Page 1 of Double Shot

Chapter 1

Horngry

Klaus

Did I actually like this guy, or was I just horngry?

It was a question I asked myself a lot. Usually, the answer was a mix of the two. As a sexually active incubus, I was inclined to crave sex fairly often, and the act gave me more than just satisfaction. I needed sexual energy to stay healthy. Plus, I liked just about everyone. I loved the things that made people different, so I didn’t have all that many turn-offs.

But this guy…

“You haven’t lived until you’ve gotten high and tickled every inch of your body with a crow’s feather while dancing naked in the middle of Tirnal Park under a full moon.” He gestured with his wine glass.

I smiled awkwardly, picking at my pasta. Usually, words like ‘tickled’ and ‘body’ and especially ‘naked’ would make me extremely interested in a conversation, but something about this guy just rubbed me the wrong way.

He was kind of… smarmy. A little creepy, and not in the good way. I liked the right kind of creepy, don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t really like creeps.

And I was maybe getting the vibe that Clarence kind of… was one.

“So, Klaus,” he drawled, smiling indulgently as he leaned forward. “Niiiikolaus. Stunning name.”

“It is a nice name,” I agreed with a stiff smile. “But it’s not mine. Mine is just Klaus. Not short for Nikolaus or anything.”

“So, Niko.” He swirled the red wine in his glass and watched me over the rim with what I assumed were supposed to be smouldering bedroom eyes. “Tell me about your most recent lover.”

I blanched and had to stop myself from physically cringing back in my seat. Who asked that? I was a young, horny incubus with an admittedly terrible filter and almost non-existent self-awareness—according to my best friend, at least—and even I wouldn’t ask that on a date.

“No thanks,” I said shortly, then decided to start shovelling pasta in my mouth just to end this meal quicker.

Clarence wasn’t deterred by my brief answer, clicking his tongue as he leaned even closer over the table. “Bad experience? It’s always a shame when you feel that connection with a potential lover and yet it doesn’t align when your bodies come together in that”—he sighed, shaking his head wistfully—“erotic dance.”

The mouthful of pasta was hard to swallow, but I just about managed it. I really wished he’d stop using the word ‘lover.’

Besides, he couldn’t have been more wrong. My last hookup was an out-of-this-fucking-world hot gargoyle with a thick torso, thick thighs and an enormously thick cock. He almost fucked me through my bedroom wall. The walls were thin enough in my shitty apartment that it was a genuine possibility.

But like every other man I’d met, he hadn’t been interested in anything more. They never were. They just wanted to fuck a hot young incubus, because that was all anyone ever wanted concubi for. We were sex demons. People didn’t want romance with sex demons. They didn’t want loving, committed relationships with sex demons. They wanted sex with sex demons.

I sighed, resting my cheek in my palm as I gazed morosely at my plate, pushing the last of my pasta around. Life was so unfair. All I wanted was to be railed like the horny, desperate incubus I was and be loved unconditionally by the person who wanted to rail me like the horny, desperate incubus I was.

Was that really so much to ask for? I didn’t think so, but the universe seemed to.

Don’t get me wrong, I was eternally grateful to the universe for giving me an endless string of beautiful men who wanted to fuck me, but couldn’t the universe just make one of them fall in love with me too? Just one? I didn’t think that was greedy or anything. I just wanted one guy.

Oh Lucifer, maybe Clarence was that one guy. Maybe the universe had decided he was my one true love. My match. The mate to my damned soul. I eyed him in alarm as he prattled on about something—how he waxed his hooves, or something—while eating his roasted duck legs with gusto.

I’d really prefer it if this guy wasn’t my soul mate, universe, I thought timidly, sending that little plea out into the ether. Maybe someone who doesn’t give me an unwanted nickname on our first date…?

“So, Niko,” Clarence purred, having picked his duck legs clean of meat. Guy really liked duck, it seemed. He fished a morsel out of his long, braided beard and popped it into his mouth, making my gorge rise.

Could my real soul mate also not be a guy with a billy goat beard? Please?

“Dessert?” Clarence asked in a sultry voice, twirling the end of his beard around his finger.

“No,” I blurted in horror, then cleared my throat. “I mean… I’d better not. Thanks, though. I’m… so full from all that pasta.”

That was a total fucking lie. I wasn’t remotely full. I desperately wanted dessert. I needed dessert. My best friend Nat and I were both incapable of finishing meals without at least a little sweet treat. But was I willing to sit across from Clarence for another half hour before we could leave, just for some cake?

Maybe I’d get cake on the way home instead. Eat it in bed while on a vid call with Nat so I could tell him all about this terrible date. He’d love it. He loved hearing about my disaster dates.