Page 103 of Double Shot

For a second, my temper had threatened to boil over. And that was saying something, because it usually took a lot for me to get truly angry. I didn’t like feeling angry without a really good reason—it felt like wasted energy. I forced myself to calm down and told myself, Hey, it’s okay! It’s your day off and you’re heading out to run some errands anyway. That’s a great excuse to treat yourself to coffee you don’t have to make.

But when I got to my favourite coffee place in town, the line was out the door, which seemed to be purely to inconvenience me just a little, because this place never had a line. After about fifteen minutes I finally got my coffee, and when I turned to leave, I almost barrelled straight into another customer, who gave me a dirty look as they stepped aside. I mumbled an apology and left in a hurry.

I didn’t know if the universe had decided to mess with me today, or if I was just being clumsy and careless because I hadn’t slept and felt a little off. I was running too hot, I was irritable, and my patience was wearing very, very thin.

I tried to focus on the evening ahead as I carried out my tasks around town. I truly did have something wonderful to look forward to, because Brian was coming over, and he was staying the night, and we were going to have sex. A lot of sex. Lots and lots of sex. It was happening, there were no two ways about it.

I’d missed him a crazy amount since last week. We’d talked a lot over text, but that wasn’t the same at all. I missed looking at him. I missed hearing his deep, soft voice. I missed his mouthwatering scent—like campfire smoke and honey; warm and cosy and comforting.

Plus, the lack of sex was starting to get to me now. Not because I needed to have sex, but because… well, I mean, I did kind of need to have sex. Or at least, I needed to absorb some form of sexual energy, and my personal preference was to have actual sex. There were plenty of ace concubi out there who found other ways to do it, and I’d tried some of them in the past but they just didn’t feel the same to me.

Aside from all that, I just wanted to have sex with Brian. I wanted to be as close to him as I possibly could. I wanted to feel our bodies joined together, to feel him inside me, to know I was making him feel good.

And then I wanted to fall asleep with him, and wake up with him, and trust that he wouldn’t just leave as soon as his dick had gone down. I knew he’d never do that, no part of me doubted it, and I’d realised over the last few days that I’d never actually had so much trust in a man before.

At least the goal behind the no-sex rule had been achieved, even if it had meant living on the meagre residual energy of horny motel guests for several weeks.

I was definitely feeling the need now, especially after how close I’d gotten to coming last week with Brian’s hot mouth teasing my nipples and his finger in my ass, before we were rudely interrupted by my new landlord. Since then, there’d been a gnawing hunger inside me that never went away. The knot in my chest was getting tighter and tighter, but now it was pulsing too, throbbing with need, no longer satisfied with weak, second-hand nourishment. It was kind of like eating a meal that had been stripped of most of its nutrients. It filled the void, but it wasn’t really satiating, and it never took long for the hunger to return, even stronger this time.

I was going to gorge myself on that beautiful, hunky werewolf later. Thank Lucifer he was so big and strong. He’d have the stamina to keep up. I’d made sure to buy plenty of protein bars and other nutritious snacks for him at the grocery store earlier though, just in case he needed to refuel for energy at any point tonight. Because Lucifer help me, I was going to be draining him dry.

I was daydreaming about what I’d do to him first when someone crashed into my shoulder as they hurried in the opposite direction down the street, knocking me out of my little fantasy. I glared after them, but they didn’t even glance back to offer an apologetic smile.

I was glad I’d moved out of the city, to be honest. I’d already met the friendly elderly succubus across the street, Mrs. Tupper. She’d brought cookies to welcome me to the neighbourhood and had started telling me all about her granddaughter, before looking immensely disappointed when I mentioned that I was seeing someone.

I texted Nat to see if the Goliaths had arrived at the community centre yet and asked if he wanted me to bring him lunch. Getting to have lunch with my best friend would definitely make my day a bit better, but of course I was also hoping I’d get to ogle my big werewolf for a while too. I wouldn’t disturb him or anything, but I could still look. Very disrespectfully, of course, seeing as I’d be imagining all the filthy things I was going to do to him later.

It was a little past one p.m. when I finished all my errands, so I picked up two chicken Caesar salads for Nat and me and drove to the community centre. Nat had texted me a little while ago to tell me that Holt, the Goliaths manager, had had a bunch of burgers and fries delivered for them all to have lunch, so I knew Brian had already eaten.

The front door of the centre was locked because everyone inside was probably in their true forms, so Nat came to let me in. He gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before taking the bag from me.

“Go on, peek your head in to get your Brian fix before we eat,” he teased, setting the bag of food down on one of the tables in the centre’s little café area. It was closed today, but it was usually populated by elderly supernaturals who liked to hang out here and socialise.

I didn’t even try to deny it. In fact, I smiled and preened shamelessly before making my way over to the doors that led onto the gym floor and cracking one open. I poked my head in and blinked when I was hit with a wall of noise—specifically a chorus of farting sounds layered with jovial voices as the wrestlers yelled to each other, as well as the low hum of conversation from those sitting on the sidelines, still eating or waiting for their turn on one of the courts.

I was about to look back at Nat and ask if it was normal for pickleballs to sound like farts when they got hit, but then I noticed Brian on one of the courts, teamed up with a pale mothperson with shaggy dark hair. He was in his werewolf form, shirtless, that ripped chest on display. Those wide shoulders. The thickly muscled, corded arms and long, clawed fingers. The tight stomach and tree trunk thighs in those slutty little gym shorts.

A wave of lust hit me, so strong it made my belly cramp for a second. Brian’s head snapped up and turned in my direction, his gaze zeroing in on me with unerring accuracy. I flushed and gave him a shy little wave, desperately hoping he was just hyper attuned to my pheromones now and that I wasn’t wafting them all over the place for anyone else to pick up on.

Except I definitely was. They were pouring out of me in heavy, rolling waves, and I couldn’t do anything to tamp them down. I was too horny. The hunger had grown too strong. I was pretty sure that when I did finally get Brian’s dick inside me later, I’d hear a Hellish chorus of Lucifer’s most diabolical demons singing in thanks. It was going to be a religious experience.

Brian’s lupine face had lit up at the sight of me, so now the overwhelming lust stirring my insides mixed with sweet fondness that made me want to wrap him in my arms. He looked genuinely happy to see me. I didn’t think any other man I’d dated had ever looked at me quite like that. I was definitely a bit of a hot mess right now, because I almost started tearing up.

Fuck. I just needed some food and sleep followed by the most thorough dicking of my entire life, and I’d feel fantastic in the morning.

Brian waved back just as Nat appeared beside me, pulling the door open a little wider so he could fit his face next to mine and peer into the room.

“Why can I hear so many farts?”

“I have no idea.” I stepped back. I’d wanted to say hi to Brian and maybe give him a quick kiss, but he was in the middle of a match so I couldn’t interrupt. I’d just make sure to see him before I left. “Do pickleballs not usually sound like that?”

Nat snorted and closed the door, blocking out the cacophony of wrestler yells and pickleball farts. “Um, no. I mean, I don’t think so? I’ve never played it. Maybe they do.”

I followed him over to the table and sat, stifling a yawn and rubbing my tired face. Nat tutted and reached across to squeeze my arm.

“You look exhausted, mouse.”

“I’ll go home and sleep after this.” I smiled at him as he unpacked the food. “I’ve had one of those mornings, you know? Nothing major, but all the little things kept going wrong. I’ll feel better after having some lunch with you.”