Page 53 of Shifted Desire

She laughs at my annoyance. “I’m just saying that I may be corrupting you in other ways, but you’re allowed to eat a fucking candy bar without feeling bad about yourself. Life isn’t a contest of how much you can deny yourself to prove your willpower. It’s meant to be lived.”

She says it so flippantly. Like it’s incredibly simple and obvious. And maybe it is for her.

There’s a painful clench in my chest as part of me, maybe the wolf, maybe a younger version of me that wasn’t fully crushed by responsibility and obligation, yearns to have that kind of mentality. To live my life for myself instead of for other’s expectations.

“It’s not that simple for me.”

Her sympathetic smile makes warmth expand in my chest. “I know. We’ll work on it.”

Gods, how much of a cliché am I? An older man chained to responsibility and work being given a new lease on life by a much younger, vibrant woman. An old man fucking his best friend’s daughter to feel something again.

It’s pathetic.

But when she laughs like she can tell what I’m thinking, I can’t find it in me to care how cliché or pathetic I am. I’m more alive than I’ve been in years, and Samantha’s the one who made that happen.

I like the way I feel when I’m with her, and for some strange reason, I think she likes how she feels around me. Probably because the sex is mind-blowing, and she’s a succubus who gets an energy boost from it. Not because I’m fun to be around.

But then why is she sitting in here with me, giving me candy and wanting to talk?

“This is my favorite,” I say softly. She blinks, confused, and I gesture to my half-eaten candy bar. “This kind of candy.”

She grins. “I’ll make a note of that, Sir.”

Right. She’s doing this because it’s her job, not because she wants to be my friend or cares beyond a surface level. It’s sad how much that thought stings.

I must not keep the disappointment off my face because she sobers. “Shit, sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be flirting right now. You make it very difficult sometimes.”

She’s misinterpreted me, but I’m too surprised by her words to correct her. “I do?”

Samantha snorts. “Uh, yeah. You do.”

If that isn’t an ego boost, I don’t know what is. My dick thickens happily.

She licks her lips and gives me a cheeky smile. “Praise kink confirmed.”

I shake my head, unable to keep the amusement off my face. “You’re one to talk.”

She shrugs. “We’re both sluts for compliments. One of the reasons we’re a good match. Though we both know we like degradation just as much.”

I get a little stuck on her saying we’re a good match and almost miss the mention of our mutual degradation kink. I clear my throat. “True.”

“Alright, better get back to work,” she says, slapping her thighs and standing.

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re going to talk about kink and then leave?”

“You said no sex right now. Besides, I enjoy leaving you worked up. The wait makes things even better.”

She opens the door and steps out into the hall, winking at me over her shoulder as she catches me staring at her ass. We both laugh, and when the door closes behind her, I realize my frustration is gone, swept away with startling ease by the sugar and, more importantly, Samantha’s company.

20

For the first time in decades, I’m not struggling to keep my temper in check and my eyes open through work as the full moon approaches.

Samantha seems to be able to sense whenever there’s a spike of need from my wolf, and we’ve gotten into a strange, but effective routine of her coming in when she feels it, fooling around, and then going right back to work like nothing happened.

Well, at least she acts like nothing happened. I don’t think there will ever be a time where I taste her pussy or have her suck me off that doesn’t leave me reeling for a few minutes.

The best days are when she lingers while I come down from the rush, and teases me or chats about whatever pops into her mind.