Make Me Beg for It (4 page)

The two women regarded the frog waiting placidly on the sitting room carpet, Madeley with a bit of a smile, Opal with an open mouth. Miraculous enough to have her silent for a moment. It couldn’t possibly last.

“It’s a fucking frog!” Opal said at last, grabbing her friend’s arm to shake it.

“I know what it is; I found it, after all.”

“But it’s a fucking frog—in your sitting room!”

“And it talks.” Madeley laughed and threw herself down into the comfy chair. Shaking her head, Opal sat down on the settee. “He says he’s enchanted,” Madeley said.

“That right?” Opal gaped at the amphibian, who regarded her with a calm look, his golden eyes unblinking.

“That’s right.”

“Well then,” Opal said, “Make him talk.”

Madeley leaned forward. “You’re not going to refuse to talk, are you?”

“No,” the frog said.

“Fuck me with a HobNob!” Opal shouted, while Madeley collapsed with helpless laughter. “You have a talking frog!”

“An enchanted, talking frog,” Madeley managed to say finally, gasping for breath.

“I don’t think this is amusing.” The frog’s eyes appeared expressionless. Surely, Madeley imagined the angry tone to his voice.

“Well, hell! Trust me, this is funny as hell,” Opal said, leaning forward with a grin. “Can I touch him?” She reached forward to poke his side with one finger.

“Be careful.”

Opal drew back. “Is he going to bite me?”

“No . . . . It’s just when you touch him—well, you try it.”

Opal looked at her with one eyebrow raised, her brown eyes shrewdly assessing her friend. “Nothing bad?”

“No, no, nothing bad . . . .”

Opal’s eyes narrowed at her, but she turned back to the frog and touched it gingerly with her finger. “Huh. I thought he’d be slimy.”

Madeley looked at her friend as she sat up, eyes still fixed on the frog. “Did you—did you feel anything?”

“It was kind of cool. I mean, like, cold. Enchanted, eh? Maybe he’s just trained. You come from the circus, frog?”

The frog remained glumly silent.

Opal’s reaction confused her. Didn’t she get that same erotic shock?

“How’d you get enchanted then?” Opal demanded. Madeley wondered why it never occurred to her to ask that question. She looked eagerly at the frog, too.

“It’s getting harder to remember the details,” the frog said, shifting his gaze back and forth between them. “There was a woman—”

“Of course,” Opal said, snorting.

“I treated her badly.”

“Duh!”

“Stop editorializing and let him speak!”

Opal sat back with a sigh, arms crossed. “Go on.”

“She lured me to her flat, gave me a drink and when I woke up, I was a frog. She dumped me by the Thames at low tide. I think her name was . . . Juliet.”

“You think! You’d expect a girl like that would stick in your mind.” Opal laughed.

“I’m a frog. I was a man. I still have the memories of the man, but I’m a frog now. I think eventually, I’ll lose those memories, too.”

Madeley felt something tug at her heart. “That’s so sad!”

Opal looked at her under lowered brows. “Mad, don’t you be taken in by another tosser when you just booted out the last one.”

“But you heard him. Doesn’t that just melt your heart?”

Opal made an exasperated sound. “Didn’t he just say he was such a jerk that some gal turned him into a frog and abandoned him in the river? That sound like a nice guy to you?”

“I’m right here,” the frog said, stamping his little feet.

“Well, he can’t deserve to
stay
a frog,” Madeley said, shooting her friend a softer look. “We could help him and, you know, then maybe just send him on his way. I don’t know. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.”

“Yeah, don’t piss off women who know magic. Damn, I think I need to know that girl,” Opal added, tapping her chin. “Oh, all right. So what we gotta do? Kiss him?”

“I don’t know . . . .”

“Hey, froggy—”

“His name is Ian,” Madeley said somewhat tartly.

Opal smirked. “Right then,
Ian
, shall we give you a kiss?”

“You are welcome to try. Others have.”

“I like a challenge.” Opal laughed and leaned down. “Hop on over here, Ian. Lemme give you a smooch.”

Madeley felt an irrational surge of something she realized as anger when Opal, laughing, stooped to kiss the frog. Her gaze riveted on the pair of them. She held her breath, too, though she didn’t notice until she released the pent up air.

Nothing happened.

Opal shrugged. “You try.”

Madeley felt a blush rise up the side of her neck as she knelt on the floor. The frog took a small hop toward her. His yellow eyes rolled up, the black irises bright in the lamplight. She swallowed. It was a simple thing really, nothing to it. Madeley could hear the hum of the refrigerator out in the kitchen and the sound of a gentle rain beginning outside. She bent low and reached out for the cool green skin. Something electric coursed through her hands as she drew the amphibian’s face to her own. Madeley closed her eyes as she pressed her lips to his.

A spark exploded in her mouth. Once again, she saw herself entwined with the man she had glimpsed before. Madeley’s body convulsed with the sudden injection of desire. She was seated on his lap, impaled by his hot cock, her nipples erect and rubbing against his wide chest as their moans mingled . . . and she was coming, from the tips of her toes up to her chest, a wave of exquisite pleasure rocked her body and she cried out.

Opal stared at her, mouth open, eyes wide. “What the hell just happened?”

Madeley wiped her mouth and looked down at the frog, who stared at her, his expression as impassive as ever. “What?”

“What happened? It was like—” Opal paused, throwing her hands apart in a helpless gesture. “Some kind of shock!”

“I guess,” Madeley said, “I’m a little jolted.”

“No, idiot, I mean like an electric shock. I
saw
it. It was like gold light.”

Madeley shook her head. Her lips still tingled. So did her thighs. Oh, baby. What the hell had happened? “But he’s still a frog.”

“Yeah.” They both looked at him.

“Do you feel any different?” Madeley asked at last. The silence was maddening, but she had to wait until he deigned to answer.

“A little.” He looked back and forth between her and Opal.

“Well, praise little lord Jesus!” Opal said, waving her hands in the air with exaggerated motions. “At least there’s that. Mad, you got a bottle of wine? I think we need a drink. This is one crazy ass night.” She stalked off to the kitchen.

“Cupboard over the breadbox,” Madeley called out at Opal’s retreating back.

“I knew it was you,” the frog said.

“What?”

“I knew it was you. In the alley tonight.”

Madeley frowned. “I’m not sure what—”

“I saw you before. I came back.”

“You . . . wanted to meet me?”

“Why you always have red and no white, Mad?” Opal flounced back to the settee, glasses in one hand, open wine in the other. “You know I prefer white.”

“You know I prefer red,” Madeley said, her tone flat.

Opal looked at her, then looked at the frog. “Is he freaking you out? Should we put him in his box?”

“He was telling me something,” Madeley said, staring at the frog.

“I knew you were the one.” The frog blinked.

“Here.” Opal handed her a generous glass. “Drink it. You’re looking poorly, Mad.”

“What?” Her ears seemed muffled. An echo accompanied her friend’s words. She took the glass and downed half of it. “What did you say?”

“I knew you were the one,” the frog repeated.

Opal laughed and covered her mouth. “Finally, true love comes, Mad, and it’s a frog.” She collapsed on the settee as mirth overtook her.

“Shut up,” Madeley said, but without rancor. “You mean you thought I could save you? Well, that looks to be a bust, mate.” She finished the glass and motioned to Opal for more.

“I’m not sure it is.” But he didn’t say anything more, and Opal decided it was about time that Madeley heard about her evening with Phil and his lethal feet. As they chatted and drank the wine, Madeley’s gaze kept straying to the frog, who wandered around the apartment a little before returning to sit near her chair, listening but not speaking.

The clock showed 2:00 a.m. when Opal yawned and said, “Can I crash here, doll? I don’t want another minicab horror.”

“Sure. You need to use the toilet? I’m going to take a bath before bed.” She got some sheets and a duvet and left them on the settee.

Opal hugged her as they passed in the hallway. “Sleep tight, Mad. It will all look less insane in the morning.”

Madeley chuckled. “Promise?” She stepped into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Turning around to reach for the taps, she stopped short. The frog sat on the lino, looking up at her.

“Can I take a bath, too?”

Madeley’s mouth made a little ‘o’ and it took a moment to locate words. “Um, what? Now?”

“Yes.”

“With me.”

“Most certainly.”

Madeley stared. “I’m, um, I’m not sure I feel comfortable about this.”

“You don’t have to touch me,” the frog said, hopping a bit closer. “Unless you want to do so.”

She swallowed. “Um, okay.”

“And if possible, can you not put any bath salts or anything in the water? I don’t think it will be very healthy for me.”

“And not too hot either, I suppose,” Madeley said, thinking how tender his skin had felt.

“Thank you.”

After the tub had filled, the frog jumped into the water and tread at the surface. Madeley shook her head at the sight. In a million years, she never expected to be taking a bath with a frog. She shucked off her clothes quickly. Slipping into the water, she settled gingerly on the bottom, her hands resting on either side.

“All right?” the frog asked, legs waving back and forth under the surface of the water.

“S’all right,” Madeley said, though her cheeks grew warm as she gazed into his eyes. “Did you really look for me?”

“Yes. It must have been a few weeks ago I first saw you. I liked your face right away. You have a kind face.”

Madeley smiled and looked away. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“I’ve been looking a long time.”

“What were you looking for?” Madeley tried to concentrate on running the flannel up her arms, lightly soaping them.

“Rescue,” the frog said, stilling his movements to float motionless.

She rubbed her face with the soft cloth. “You were kissed before.”

“Yes.” He began to tread water again, bobbing in the water a little. “There’s always a few women with imagination and hope.”

“And reckless attitudes toward hygiene,” Madeley added. “But nothing happened.”

“Nothing, until you.”

“Why did she turn you into a frog,” Madeley asked in a rush of words. “You must have done something terrible. Slept with another woman, I expect.”

“No. Nothing so climactic. I just took her for granted. For far too long. I killed her love through neglect. And she hated me for it.”

“I thought you didn’t remember.” Madeley narrowed her eyes. “Your memory seems fine now.”

“I can’t remember a lot. I’m really not sure if her name was Juliet. But after I touched you, it came back to me. The moment where she cursed me.”

“I saw, um, something else.”

“I saw it, too.”

Madeley looked up at him. “You did?”

“Yes, that’s when I knew I was right.”

“Then afterward, her cursing you?”

He kicked off from the side of the tub and drifted past her knee. “She said I took her for granted. Assumed I had her attentions all locked up and couldn’t be bothered to notice her anymore. Thought she was part of my furniture.”

“Was she right?”

He sighed. “I think she was.”

“That’s too bad.” Madeley tried in vain to see the sadness his words conveyed in his expression, but a frog’s face was not human. “I guess she really wanted to make you suffer.”

“She did.”

Madeley couldn’t help but pity him. He might have been a jerk to this Juliet, but to be stuck as s frog! “How long have you been like this?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Well, what year was it when you last remember?”

He seemed to think about it. “2008.”

Ouch. She told him how long it had been. “Sorry, um, Ian.”

“Nothing to be done,” he said, his voice hardly audible.

“Did you ever go back to find her?”

“I didn’t go far from where she dropped me for a long time. I thought she might forgive me. But she never came back.” They were silent for a while.

“Are you getting tired?” Madeley asked at last, watching him tread water slowly. “The water’s starting to get cool.”

“I suppose.” He paused. “Did you like what you felt when—when we touched?”

Madeley felt a flush color her face. “Yes, it was wonderful.”

“Would you . . . would you want to keep me around? Even if I’m not a man, I could . . . could, well . . . I could make you feel that way.”

She stared at him. “Does it do anything for you?”

“Oh yes.”

Madeley took a deep breath. “Come here.” She reached out to draw the frog onto her belly and all at once the vision returned, ecstatic and vivid. Their bodies heaved together as he thrust into her, half-submerged, splashing the water against the porcelain. Madeley cried out as his hand closed around her breast, his tongue tickled in her mouth, and his cock slammed home in her cunt, and once more, the electric fire of an orgasm began to creep up. He lifted her knees and she was up to her neck in the water, but he didn’t stop, and she was coming, coming and crying aloud, “Yes, more . . . more!” and groaning and gasping as she climaxed again and again—

And then she was lying in the cold water with a frog on her tum, still breathing hard. “Wow.”

“Then I can stay?”

Madeley laughed. “Sure, sure.” As she dried herself off, she had a twinge of worry. What if he never turned back? What if she suddenly met a great guy? How would she explain her “pet” frog that she took in her bath? Madeley sighed. It was late.
I’ll think about that tomorrow, fiddle-dee-dee
.

“May I share your bed?” the frog asked as he followed her into the bedroom.