"The moon will be rising soon," the werewolf thought to himself as he drifted through the crowd of writhing dancers at the club, Gothic Noire. "I'll have to find someone to fuck soon or I'll spend the next month locked in my wolf shape." The moon's nearness was calling to his soul, even through the brick walls. He could feel his eyes shifting slowly from their natural emerald green to wolfen gold.

His head lifted and his eyes glowed a brilliant predator green as they reflected the odd club lighting. The glow winked out as he turned his head, changing the the angle of reflection. He leaned against the wall in a dark corner, delicately sifting through the scents looking for his prey. His sensitive nose was overpowered by the scents. There were too many warm, sweating bodies rubbing against each other in multiple parodies of sex. The aromas aggravated his need. Standing up, stretching to his full impressive height, he moved away from the wall and drifted like smoke through the dancers and the throbbing music, his cock semi-aroused in anticipation.

"I hate being in a rush like this every fucking month," he muttered to himself as he searched. He despised the curse that required him, every damned month, to bring a woman to climax before he could cum. But nothing less would generate enough power to keep control over his changes. Trying to find someone with enough passion to keep up with his need, and appetite, every full moon was a real pain in the ass.

Not having a woman of his own was his own damn fault and he knew it, but he couldn't afford to have anyone finding out about his true nature. "Oh, hey, you're cute, and by the way I'm a werewolf; is that okay with you?" he snarled to himself in a snide half-joke. "Oh Yeah, that'd go over real well. Then I'll have another freak chasing me cross-country with a shot-gun full of silver." He smiled at his own wit, revealing the gleam of sharp incisors. "As if silver was really going to do me any harm."

A clean fresh aroma drifted through the cigarette smoke and alcohol fumes, catching his notice. He felt his cock rise to full erection, pressing uncomfortably against his snug leather pants in response. A perfume of baby powder, soap and warm frustrated woman drew his fascination. He followed the enticing fragrance to a tiny female leaning against the wall, completely alone.

Shy as most predators tend to be, he drifted past her noting the waterfall of silvery blonde locks that flowed down past her shoulders to swing at her hips. She had electric blue eyes and wore a very short leather skirt. Her full breasts were barely contained by the pearl buttons of her tight white blouse. The black lights made the lace of her bra glow fluorescent white, making it clearly visible through the sheer material.

As she shifted her stance slightly, he caught a tiny glimpse of what had to be the edge of her white panties, also glowing under the black lights. His rigid flesh pressed insistently against his stomach as he studied the context of her delicate scent. He was pleased by the definite lack of a male scent hovering near her.

"So, she's not here with another male nor has she been touched by one recently. Good!" the werewolf thought, a cunning smile curling his lips. He walked past her through the door to the enclosed porch outside.

"Now, how to corner her and get her out into the parking lot for a fast fuck ..." he thought to himself.

Heather swept her long, silvery blonde hair behind her shoulder as she leaned against the wall of the crowded Goth club. She took a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea and froze. Nervously, she realized that she could feel eyes boring into her flesh. Heather could feel someone's stare brushing like ghostly fingers across her body, lingering on her breasts and her far-too-exposed thighs. Nervously, she dropped a hand to the hem of her leather mini-skirt and tugged in a futile attempt to cover herself.

Apprehensively, Heather looked around her, seeking. But no one seemed to stand out as the source of the gaze she felt. She'd received a lot of curious looks, which she'd attributed to the shortness of her skirt and the tightness of her blouse, but this was far more intrusive, almost aggressive. She felt vaguely threatened.

"God, I should've never let Lisa talk me into wearing her clothes," she sighed ruefully. Heather pulled at the buttons of her sheer white blouse, fidgeting unconsciously. Her full breasts pushed relentlessly at the tiny pearls, opening gaps in her blouse. Her exposed virginal, white lace bra glowed brightly under the black light.

"Everything's too damned small, I'm gonna pop a button any second," she told herself. She tugged up the tops of her black seamed stockings that refused to hide beneath the hem of the leather skirt. The lacy straps of the snowy white garter belt showed every time she took a step. Perturbed and growling in frustration, Heather took a swallow of the sweet, potent drink. The harsh Gothic-Industrial music throbbed loudly, and she felt it pressing against her flesh like hands, closing in on her.

All around her people were dancing to the heavy music in slow, exaggerated movements. As she focused on the exotic costumes and heavy theatre make-up they wore, Heather realized that she still looked like an innocent schoolgirl compared to everyone else. There were people in leather, vinyl, lace, and velvets. Many were wearing considerably less and showing far more skin and cleavage than she.

Heather took a healthy swallow of her Long-Island Iced Tea and realized for the first time how strong the bartender had made it. The alcohol slid into the pit of her empty stomach and she suddenly felt light-headed.

"Maybe I should go outside," Heather mumbled out loud as she felt the alcohol hit her brain. "Thank God I didn't wear those spiked heels Lisa tried to talk me into, or I'd be flat on the floor by now."

With careful steps, Heather walked to the doorway of the enclosed outside porch. Practically no one was out there. She walked over toward a dark corner. The crisp autumn breeze blew some of the fumes away and Heather's mind cleared a little. Breathing deep, she smiled as she looked up at the clear stars, turned and promptly walked into a firm, hard-muscled body.

"Oh! Sorry!" Heather said as she looked up ... and up ... into the eyes of a very tall man. The tiny tree lights gave only a dim light, especially after the harsh glare of the club's powerful strobes. Still it was enough to let her see that he was strikingly handsome and dark. She felt strong hands grip her upper arms, steadying her from their collision. A smile touched his mouth as he gazed down at her. She could see that he had fine, if sharp features with a pronounced four o'clock shadow. Thick black lashes framed his bright, yellow-green eyes, the corners tilting up to give him an exotic, feral look. Dark brows slanted up over his deep-set eyes like wings. Long waves of lustrous black hair fell over his shoulders, like silk.

"Hi, I ah..." Heather began, and was quickly stopped by his finger pressed gently to her lips for silence. Her lips tingled where he touched them and she licked them without thinking, gazing at his faint smile.

He chuckled softly, thinking, "I wonder if she knows how close to the surface all that pent-up frustration really is?" His smile widened, parting his lips slightly, revealing a bright flash of white teeth.

"Were those fangs?" She asked herself, surprised. Then, "Oh, wait, this is a Goth club," she reminded herself. "Duh ... just about everybody wears fangs, and half the people here really want to be Vampires."

Mesmerized, she watched his graceful hand reach out to grasp a thick lock of her blonde mane, letting the silvery strands slide slowly through his fingers. His eyes followed the path of his hand; he was fascinated by her hair. She noticed his fingers were tipped in long, curved nails, almost like claws. His touch and obvious admiration started an intimate warmth that curled down into her belly.

"Beautiful," thought the werewolf, "just beautiful with those wide, innocent eyes the color of an autumn sky, hiding all that untapped fire. Those full lips and that hair ... what incredible hair." Noting how petite she really was, he realized her head didn't quite reach his shoulder.

Thinking to kiss her, he leaned forward slowly then stopped as she shied away slightly. Changing tactics, he took her small delicate hand and raised it to his lips. Watching her closely, he softly brushed his lips across her knuckles then brushed them fleetingly with the tip of his tongue. She shivered visibly, but didn't pull away.

"My God, he's beautiful!" she caught herself thinking. "I can't stop looking at him." His green-gold eyes were locked onto hers and she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise. She felt as though his eyes were reaching into hers to take hold of her soul.

"Yes, that's it, Princess" he thought, pleased as he detected the slight scent of her arousal. "A shame I don't have the time to really work on her, she has definite potential," he thought with real regret. "Damn, I hate being in a hurry, but I have to get her outside soon ...". Taking a calculated risk, he slid his hands into her hair and very gently cupped her head to hold her quiet, prepared to use his strength if necessary.

Then in a sudden move, he turned and pressed her tightly back against the wooden palisade wall. He watched her eyes widen and she let out a small cry in surprise as he drew closer and closer still. He felt her hands clench in the lapels of his leather vest. Leaning forward, he touched his nose to her ear. Slowly he inhaled and then exhaled with a soft growl. He felt her body tremble with long rippling shivers.

"Oh, God, what is this guy doing to me?" Heather thought to herself. "He feels so good, he smells so good ...". She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she shuddered under the onslaught of his touch. His body was an inferno as he pressed his length onto her.

Lightly he touched his tongue to the shell of her ear tracing the curve, then dipped delicately but moistly into the sensitive center. He exhaled softly creating a cool breeze against the damp flesh. Locked in his embrace, he felt her tremble again, uncontrollably, and draw a ragged breath with a tiny moan. Unconsciously she pulled him closer. He trailed his open mouth, nibbling lightly, along her jaw then touched his lips to hers. She opened her mouth beneath him as he swept in to stroke her tongue with his.

"Holy shit!" rocketed through Heather's cloudy mind. "This gorgeous man is kissing me and oh, Jeez-uz -fuck, can he kiss!" She could feel the firmness of the hand cradling her head and the power of his body pressing against her passionately. The aroma of leather and his potent male sexuality curled around her as she breathed deeply. She could feel his erection in the cradle of her hips, hot through the leather and heavy with intent. Mesmerized by the fierce pleasure coursing through her body she heard herself moan into his mouth.

"Good, there's alcohol in her," the werewolf thought as he tasted the Long Island Iced Tea she'd been drinking. "This should make it easier for me to take her before she's realized what's happened."

She answered his kiss with a ferocity that surprised him. "She probably doesn't realize how strongly she's responding," he thought to himself, elated. And she was responding, her natural passion blazing through her, out of control. Perfect. He deepened his kiss, slanting his mouth over hers for deeper penetration. Using care not to nip her with his sharp fangs, he took her mouth, tasting her and inhaling deeply to steal her breath as she exhaled. His body kept her captive against the wooden fence, his legs wide. With a moan, he rolled his hips and pressed his entrapped cock against her softness as he continued to kiss her.

Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he slid his hand from her silky hair down her shoulder and arm to press against her narrow waist. Carefully he skimmed his hand up her ribs. His hand closed over her breast through the blouse and he squeezed lightly, then again more firmly. With his long nails he tugged her hardened nipple beneath her lace bra and sharp bolts of pleasure shot straight to her belly. Pressed close against her, he felt the shudder that racked her body and answered it with an involuntary one of his own. He captured her soft moan in his mouth as they kissed.

"If I don't get her outside soon, I may cum in my own pants," he thought, feverishly.

Want and need coursed urgently through Heather as she pulled her hands from his lapels to dive under his vest wanting to touch him. She needed to touch him. As though in a dream, she swept her hands over the silk shirt he wore and found that he was a solid wall of whipcord muscle. She swept her hands down his back, scoring him lightly with her nails then digging in to pull him closer. She was rewarded with a growl of pleasure from him that vibrated through them both. She wanted to touch his skin, but his shirt was tucked in. She couldn't just tug his shirt out; that would be rude. Damn it!

His thumb rolled her tender nipple, straining against her blouse. Without realizing what she was doing, Heather's hips rose to meet his, pushing strongly against the heat of his erection. He almost purred in pleasure and lifted his head to look at her with heated, hungry eyes blazing more gold than green. Licking his lips, his fingers unfastened the straining buttons to her blouse. Barely aware of what he was doing, she let him. A warm hand slid inside her bra and his hand closed on her bare flesh. With a deep sigh, her spine arched eagerly, pushing into his hand. He smiled at her response.

The reality of a man's hand on her naked breast shocked Heather suddenly awake. "Oh, God, I must be drunker than I thought!" Startled in confusion and alarm, she tried to pull away only to discovered how firmly he had her pinned; his for the taking. She watched his smile grow feral as he held her there and continued with the caress. As he tugged sharply on her captured nipple, more lightning bolts of liquid pleasure pulsed down her flesh, matching time to his touch. She became aware of a slick wetness dampening her panties. Heather heard her own breath as she panted with the need that gripped her. She felt herself flutter open with the hunger and anticipation of being entered by him.

"Oh, God, I can't be doing this!" Heather thought in distress, even as her body screamed "More! Don't stop!" Biting her lip in sexual frustration and humiliation at her submission, Heather shoved him hard and rolled out from beneath him. She fastened her blouse buttons in a panic as she bolted for the ladies' room inside.

"Oh, no Princess, it's too late for running," the werewolf thought amusedly. He pushed away from the wall to give chase.

"I can't believe I let that guy kiss me like that, I can't believe I was kissing him back! I hope to God nobody saw me kissing a total stranger like that ...". Fearing to look behind her, she threaded her way through the crowd. She dove into the hall and headed past the stairs only to find a line in front of the bathrooms halting her escape.

"Shit," she said out loud. Heather felt a tug on her skirt and then was turned around sharply.

"Going somewhere?" said the man she'd been kissing. His eyes were narrowed and intent with the fever of open lust, his smile grim. He'd followed her and had caught her by the waistband of her skirt. Between one breath and the next, he imprisoned her arm in a powerful grip and she found herself being bodily shoved through a doorway and up a short staircase.

"Hey, uh, I don't know you and I, uh, normally don't go kissing people ...", she tried to protest as he forced her into the dimly lit narrow room upstairs. "There's been a mistake, I didn't mean ...".

"You didn't mean to kiss me?" he asked, his hypnotic voice slid over her like potent whisky. His eyes were slits of gold fire as his glare locked and held her own in a punishing grip. Heather could feel her self-control slipping away from her reach. He licked his lips, the sharp points of his teeth gleaming in his predatory smile.

"Not like ... not like that," she said, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. He slowly backed her into a dark corner of the empty room. The light from the solitary lamp etched his face with menacing shadows.

"Oh, God!" she thought to herself. "Oh, God I think I'm in trouble ...".

"I like the way you kiss," his voice rumbled and he pulled her closer. Abruptly, he turned and sat in the room's only chair facing her. With him seated, their eyes were on the same level. Heather could feel him reaching out to take control of her will. Her traitorous body responded with the compulsion to succumb to the cravings for his touch.

"I want you," he said harshly and tugged her closer. "I need you," he growled. His voice vibrated with unleashed passion. He released her arm to capture the back of her head, gently but firmly gripping her by the hair to hold her still. Her mouth opened to protest but his lips closed suddenly on hers in a possessive kiss. His tongue swept inside and her objections faded into a long moan as waves of hot desire washed over her.

Heather's mind cleared of all thoughts of resistance. Her tongue parried his as she returned his kiss. He moaned into her mouth as he recognized her surrender. She was lost in the firestorm of excitement sweeping through her blood, her flesh screaming in voracious desire.

She barely felt his arm close about her waist, a hand cupping her rounded ass as she was tipped forward. Feeling herself falling, Heather put her hands on his shoulders and gripped the leather of his vest. His arm tightened without warning as he pulled her down and closer. Unexpectedly she lost her balance and found herself sitting astride his lap, straddling his muscular thighs, pressed against him full length. Her soft breasts were crushed against the wall of his chest.

His hand curled into her hair. Slowly and irresistibly he pulled her head back, breaking the kiss. With a moist tongue, he laved her vulnerable neck tasting her. She closed her eyes in moaning surrender and quivered as his panting breath caressed her. She could feel his sharp fangs grazing her as he nipped lightly on her exposed throat. Her eyes fluttered closed in bliss.

Clever fingers tugged on her buttons as she was held immobile by his grip on her hair. Heather felt the front of her bra open, releasing both her vulnerable breasts to his mercy. Her nipples hardened powerfully in the cool air, her need strong to have them touched. Long nails lightly pricked her flesh as his hand closed about one full breast and then the other, measuring their voluptuous weight. She could hear his sighs of pleasure as he swept his hand over her pliant skin. Nails bit lightly into her softness and a callused thumb slid over one sensitive nipple and then the other.

The furnace of his wet mouth slid from her throat down her collarbone and onto the flesh of the breast, making damp circles. He circled downward on the delicate skin with his tongue taking possession of a nipple, sucking softly and then more strongly. His tongue flicked the nipple against his teeth, insistently shocking her with bolt after bolt of pleasure.

As heat gripped her body in spasms of greedy desire, her groaning cries were loud in her ears. She arched her back to lean into his mouth for more of his mouth as she cried out in carnal lust. He suckled strongly on one nipple and then the other, pulling on them until both were painfully erect. Her hips thrust forward by themselves and Heather was conscious only of the powerful rippling sensations engulfing her body.

He slowly spread his muscular legs between her soft thighs, irresistibly opening her legs widely. Her skirt slid up to her waist and exposed her completely. A hand splayed on the silk of her stockings then moved up to the flesh of her thigh. The hand continued up in a slow heated caress. Suddenly his palm covered her heat completely and he squeezed in possession. She moaned in fear and anticipation.

A finger lightly caressed her panties tracing the damp shape of her cleft through the snowy satin. The finger pressed deeper becoming a long slow rub against her excited clit through the pliant fabric. The smell of her willingness reached her together with the musk of his male arousal. She felt the finger worm it's way under the satin, seeking out her softness. Then he touched her flesh and she jumped.

Continuing his explorations, he slid further under the white satin, parting her soft curls. He gently stroked the tender flesh of her outer lips then dipped into the mouth of her drenched cleft. She felt the finger dive slowly into her moist depths, deeper then deeper yet to caress her trembling walls. He swirled his invasive finger to gather her dew then slid out. His mouth left her wet, exposed breasts and the sounds of him licking and sucking made her realize that he was tasting her juices.

"Delicious, Princess." The pleasure in his voice caressed her. Using the unrelenting grip in her silver hair he tipped her head forward and brought her lips once more to his. She opened her mouth under his and could taste herself on his tongue. She shuddered in reaction. He pulled away to lock onto her eyes. Passion was written across his face like pain, his breath hard, panting.

"I want to watch you as I make you cum for me," he whispered harshly. Again his finger slid into her cleft and then another finger joined the first. Her body clenched in wanton hunger to hold him within but he slid his damp fingers out again. He traced up her tender flesh to rub lightly against her clit. Heather inhaled sharply at the bolts of pleasure from his fingers as he rubbed them quickly back and forth against her. Her lips parted and thighs tightened as she began to grind her hips, wanting more.

He pulled her mouth to his for a hungry kiss but kept his eyes trained on the passion growing in hers. He dipped his finger in her once more, sliding deeply to rub her inner walls then out, then in again, then out in a slow fuck. Her wetness slid over his palm and he rubbed at her clit with a damp thumb. She slid her hips forward onto his possessing finger, wanting more, needing more, fucking herself on his hand.

Her soft cries were captured in his mouth as he slid a second finger into her, burrowing strongly to find the button deep inside of her. He pressed it with his fingertips then flicked it lightly, then again and again in an insistent rhythm. She was jolted to the threshold of a crushing orgasm. Suddenly, she was close, so close, right on the edge and let out a muffled scream of frustration that was swallowed by the werewolf's mouth.

"Yes, yes ..." he hissed as he felt her body clutching his fingers. Her hands pulled at his lapels as her hips rocked against him in mindless lust. Harder and harder, she thrust against him, encouraging him to push deeper into her. He could feel her nearness to climax.

"I want you to cum for me Princess," he whispered. "I want to feel you, I want to taste you as you cum ...". His breath came in harsh pants; he growled as her hips pumped against his fingers. She was so close, so very close. Eyes intent on her, he watched her mouth open to suck in a deep breath and hold it. She arched, stiffened then thrashed, crushing herself on his hand as a powerful orgasm crashed through her in a howling blaze. Firmly, he brought her lips down to meet his and he took her cries into his triumphant mouth.

Rapt in the throes of pleasure, she had not seen the couples that had silently come into the room. Clothing was loosened and hands roved and stroked and began to pleasure themselves and each other. Voraciously they watched the two in the chair, the elegant blonde and the rugged dark man, silently and intently. Their eyes avidly devoured the scene before them. The blonde's white panties were stark and visible in the dim light as they watched the dark man forcing the delicate blonde to submit to her own climax.

In the mirrors, her full white breasts pressed into him as his mouth took hers. They could see their tongues working against each other ravenously as though starving. His eyes turned toward them, wide-open and brilliant gold as he deepened the kiss before returning his eyes and attention back to her.

The full moon was rising. The werewolf could feel it in his bones as the moon's power vibrated through him, even behind the walls of cement that surrounded him. He had run out of time, he must take her now and damn the consequences. With the power of her orgasm singing through his blood, he could now achieve one of his own strong enough to retain control over his ability to change at will. Without her orgasm to strengthen his, the full moon would force him to shift and lock into the shape of a wolf until another orgasm brought him back to his humanity.

With the sharp tips of his nails already extending into claws, he tore the delicate silk of her panties from her soft body with one hand, pushing them into a pocket. He released her long silky hair and held her in a warm embrace. Her after-tremors still shook her. Her mouth was locked to his in complete abandon, sucking on his tongue as he ripped his trousers open to free his painfully hard flesh from its prison.

He stroked himself once, pushing the purple head forward. Slipping a hand under her firm ass he lifted and pulled her forward to impale her with the full power of his heavily erect cock. He moaned harshly as he slid into her wet depths, feeling himself stretching her walls. Her eyes opened with a small cry of surprise, shuddering as he filled her. His eyes lost focus with the pleasure as he pulled her onto his entire length and rocked her forward to take her as deep as he could go.

"My turn for pleasure, Princess," he growled, his smile savage with triumph.

He felt her body clench around his cock as she realized they had an audience. It was too late! He was firmly lodged within, his arms locked on her hips to hold her firm. He was encased in hot flesh and he needed her so he could stay human. Already he could feel his ears lengthening to points. He didn't care who was watching, he was fucking her now. He gripped her firmly with both hands and rocked himself, thrusting into her tender flesh.

Heather looked about as though awakened from a dream. Alarmed by the sight of the onlookers all around her, touching and stroking each other in a sexual frenzy, she writhed in dismay, shoving at his shoulders trying to pull away. With a snarl he was forced to capture her hands. In a harsh grip, he held her wrists behind her back with one hand. In despair she realized that there was no stopping his determined thrusts. He was in full possession of her body and oh God, her body wanted more.

His hips rose and fell driving his cock into her depths in a powerful rhythm as he fucked her. He pounded and pounded into her with deep mindless strokes. Withdrawing almost to the tip only to plunge back into her with a harsh grunt, he drove himself into her again and then again. Her body shook as he pounded into her flesh in his mad fury to bring himself to climax while there was still time. His feet were planted firmly for support as his ass muscles flexed strongly, powering his strokes. He gripped a breast and took it hungrily into his mouth, sucking at the nipple to distract her as he raced to beat the threatening moon as it swelled toward full strength in the sky.

The werewolf leaned onto her breast as he continued to thrust, deep then shallow, then deeper and stronger and harder. Suddenly, he realized that she was thrusting back. Her passion had risen, taking over her body in answer to his. Dampness slid onto his thighs from her excitement and he could hear the slaps of flesh against wet flesh. He lifted his head trapping her frightened but heated eyes as he pumped into her. Their panting breaths matched tempo as they both approached climax.

"Yes, he sighed. "Yes, yes, yes!" He felt the deep tightening pleasure in his balls and he knew he was ready to spill into her hungry flesh. He growled in lustful pleasure. He was close, right at the edge ...

She tightened around him in repeated spasms as she crested then fell into wave after wave of pleasure. A cry exploded from her lips as her pleasure took her. He jerked within her, his cock swelling to excruciating hardness. He pulled her down powerfully onto his cock, her ass tight against his flesh at the base. With a wrenching howl of ecstasy and triumph, he exploded into her depths as she shuddered around him, still in the violent grip of her own pleasure.

"Ahhhhh, yes!" he thought fiercely, as he fought for breath. "Human for another month!"

Trembling in aftershocks of carnal pleasure, he released her wrists and enclosed her tender body in a fierce hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing into him seeking comfort. Tears of humiliation and embarrassment made their way down her cheeks.

"It's okay, Princess, it's okay," he whispered gently, as he kissed her lips and then kissed her tears away. Gently, he lifted her from him and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his seed from her thighs. He helped her rearrange her clothes then closed his pants with a satisfied smile.

The werewolf sighed deeply in relief both mental and physical. He would keep his shape-changing power under his control for another turn of the moon. He could now seek his wolf form without loosing his ability to return to human form. Gone also was the fear of being lost in a far more hideous form. A form trapped between man and wolf. At least until the next full moon.

He became aware of the sounds of the others in the room and remembered the audience. The intruders were oblivious to the two of them now as they moaned and writhed seeking their own pleasures. Gently taking her still trembling hand, he led her to the stairs past a man moaning, eyes closed, gripping his lover by the hair as he pumped himself into her mouth.

Heather went into the ladies' room, now empty. She used the sink to wash her seared flesh and then fixed her make-up.

"Oh, God," she thought in humiliation as she remembered all those people staring. "All those people watching me being ... being fucked." A minor tremor shook her and she suddenly realized that he had given her the best climaxes she'd ever had.

"Two! I had two orgasms," Heather reminded herself in the mirror. She blushed furiously in confusion. And all those people staring at her, watching them ... She felt both ashamed and exhilarated. "Oh, God, does this make me a slut?" she wondered.

"Shit!" she said out loud. "I don't have any panties!"

Still puzzled over her behavior, Heather walked out of the ladies' room into the main room of the club. He walked over and handed her a drink. Desperately she took the glass, drinking deeply.

"Shit, I just chugged a Long Island Iced Tea," she said out loud. She felt the alcoholic fire go straight to her brain.

"That's what you were drinking before," he answered, a relaxed smile on his lips. He slouched against the wall. Heather looked into his lambent green eyes.

"Yes, and look what kind of trouble that got me into," she answered, blushing hotly as memories of his body scorched through her. She took another, smaller sip. He only smiled. She could have sworn his eyes had been yellow only a few minutes ago ...

The club music shifted and the sensual strains of Enigma flowed over her, stirring something within her. Violins and a heavy back beat floated around in her head. The sound of young male voices chanting threaded through the music.

"Hey! Heather, where have you been?" called a slender, dark-haired girl as she came out of the crowd on the dance-floor. "I've been looking all over for you! Did you hear? We missed the side-show going on upstairs!" The loud music and press of people closed between him and the spent blonde. He slid away in the confusion.

"So," he thought as he headed for the door, "her name is Heather." He slipped out of the club and took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. Cautiously, he made his way to a dark corner of the parking lot where he'd parked his bike.

Testing her name on his lips, "Perhaps Heather will still be around next month," he thought. He pulled the scrap of silk that had been her panties from his pocket. He had her scent now so he could find her if he needed her again. Maybe he would seek her out before the next full moon. Perhaps he would even take her as his mate ...

"Was he gone? That son of a bitch!" Heather thought as she ignored Lisa and ran out of the club. She looked about the parking lot and heard the thunder of a motorcycle revving up. "That sounds like my Dad's old bike," she thought vaguely.

Looking toward the street, she watched him, his long dark hair flying as he sped away on a classic Indian motorcycle. He was smiling as he looked back seeing her. He waved a scrap of white fabric that used to be her panties.

She never even knew his name.