Page 76 of Double Shot

Klaus

Forget half. I was pretty sure I was already completely in love with him.

For someone who claimed he hadn’t dated much or been in a relationship for a long while, Brian was amazing on dates. He was attentive without being overwhelming, generous without seeming like he was trying to control things or show off, and affectionate with me in public in a way that made it seem like he was actually proud to be seen with me, to be the one on a date with me, but lacking any of the gross smugness I’d witnessed too many times to count from the men I’d dated who just wanted to show me off as a wordless brag that they’d be fucking me later.

Brian was nothing—nothing—like any of the men I’d dated in the past.

The Monday after our night at the motel, he took me to dinner at a cosy hole-in-the-wall restaurant that served the best onion tortilla I’d ever eaten in my life. We were seated in one of the booths that lined the edges of the room, little alcoves tucked away under brick arches and lit only by flickering candles in sconces. It was quiet and intimate, and I could instantly see how much more at ease Brian was in a place like this. He was relaxed. He talked more and laughed a lot. He rested his forearms on the table and leaned in, which of course made me mirror him, so we were close and it felt even more like we were in our own little bubble. At one point, while we were waiting for the bill, he began absently tracing patterns along the inside of my wrist and my palm while he listened to me tell a story about me and Nat in high school.

I almost launched myself across the table at him.

That tiny, erotic touch made me almost dizzy with lust. I wanted him so badly. He was sweet and funny and so unbelievably gorgeous. Like I’d said, he seemed proud to be out on a date with me—respectfully proud, unlike all the men who’d come before him—but in my case, I was smug as fuck that I was the one who got the pleasure of his company. Who got to see him like this, relaxed and smiling that wide, devastating smile that showed off his white teeth and his cute snaggletooth and made him look wolfish, almost a little hungry, when that smile was aimed at me. And unholy shit, did that do things to me.

After he paid the bill, we got ice cream from a place run by unicorns who had apparently taken that popular saying about somewhere bright and colourful looking like a unicorn threw up all over it very, very seriously. It was brightly lit to the point of being headache-inducing. Everything was pink and yellow and baby blue. There were giant fake sprinkles stuck to the ceiling and a rainbow stripe painted around the entire room, including the windows and doors, as if someone had loaded up a giant brush and just spun in a circle with their arm out.

The unicorn working behind the counter, a girl in her late teens with pink and mint green hair and a septum piercing, was the friendliest and bubbliest person I’d ever met. Brian seemed to get a bit flustered, possibly because of how bright and overstimulating it was in here after the cool, dim quiet of the restaurant, so I took over the interaction, smiling back at the cashier warmly and telling her our orders. Dark chocolate with chilli and cherry chunks for me, banana and salted caramel for Brian. I insisted on paying, seeing as he’d bought dinner, and he thanked me with a sweet smile as he held the door open for me once we had our cones.

We went for a long, slow walk in Tirnal Park while we ate our ice cream. It was late-ish, so it was quiet and mostly empty, and the ethereal mist that shrouded the park at night had started to creep out over the grass from the forest’s treeline, like ghostly fingers trying to reach for the city just past the gates. It seemed to muffle any sounds from beyond the park, making the hum of city traffic and buzzing energy from so many people concentrated in one place feel even more distant. We were in our own little bubble again.

Brian’s wide shoulders unclenched once more, his frame relaxing as we walked side by side and talked about everything. For someone so shy, who seemed to struggle a lot with meaningless small talk, Brian was so easy to talk to. We just didn’t bother with the meaningless small talk. We talked about the big things instead—our families, our beliefs, our jobs, things we hoped to achieve in life.

I tried not to freak him out too much with that last one, because what I ultimately hoped to achieve in life was finding love. I didn’t really care about where life took me—in fact, I found it more exciting not to plan for things too much and just see what happened—but I desperately, desperately wanted someone by my side through all of it. Someone who loved me as much as I loved them. Someone whose days were always made better because I was in them. That was really all I wanted.

And maybe that meant there was something wrong with me, or that I was lacking something vital within myself. Some people would have that opinion, I was sure, claiming I needed to work on myself or grow more as a person. I didn’t think so, though. I loved myself. I was happy within myself, except for the gaping hole that I knew needed to be filled by someone else’s love. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with wanting to dote on another person, to channel all the love I knew I had into them, to take care of them and be there for them and support them when they needed it. I didn’t think it was any kind of failing on my part, as my own person, to want someone with me through life. Through all the ups and downs, through the inevitable hardships and the beautiful moments that came from them.

Probably a bit too intense of an answer for a first date though, so I kept it vague.

Once we’d finished our ice creams, Brian jogged over to a nearby trashcan to throw out our napkins. He returned to my side, and it felt like he was walking a tiny bit closer to me than before. My belly swooped, but I didn’t say anything about it. After about thirty seconds, his hand brushed mine. My heart started to pound, but I did nothing, just waited until a few seconds later, his long fingers hesitantly threaded through mine. Then I reacted—I immediately curled my fingers around his and squeezed. I also couldn’t stop the big, silly grin from stretching across my face. It was impossible to contain.

I couldn’t even remember the last time a guy had held my hand like this; in this sweet, romantic way as we walked through the park and got to know each other better. Usually, guys only grabbed my hand when they wanted to tug me down an alley or into a bathroom so they could try their luck at getting a quick blowjob. I was ashamed to admit that it had in fact worked in the past. I was far less ashamed to admit, though, that it would definitely work again right now if Brian tried it.

But he didn’t, because he was a gentleman. At least, he was being a gentleman right now, but I knew for a fact that he sometimes wasn’t, and I loved that about him. It gave me a little thrill that I’d already seen the different sides of Brian—the sweet, shy person who’d stuttered as he asked me out. The more relaxed Brian who talked with his hands when he got animated and laughed with his whole chest, then got self-conscious about it and quietened down. The fierce but capable Brian who liked to get all the tension out as Fenrir, fighting other hulking supernaturals in an underground ring, which, okay, yeah, probably wasn’t the healthiest form of therapy, and might be the definition of toxic masculinity, but it was also unbelievably hot.

And, of course, there was the Brian who fucked like a beast in his werewolf form. Whose huge hands spanned my entire waist as he held me steady for his pounding cock. Who snarled and growled and had fucked me so hard in the Cratos locker room that my teeth chattered.

Oh yeah. I really liked that Brian.

I let my mind wander for a moment as we walked, wondering if he’d ever fuck me in his human form. I didn’t mind if he wouldn’t be comfortable with that, not at all, but it would be a shame to never get to feel those big muscles bulging and flexing under smooth, sweat-slicked skin beneath my greedy hands. To never see the carved features of his handsome face grow tight and contorted with pleasure as he pumped his cock into me. It would also be a huge shame to never get to kiss him while he moved inside me, to be connected to him in multiple ways.

But I was never going to push him to do something he wasn’t completely comfortable with. And I needed to stop thinking about it right now, because I was starting to pump out pheromones, and Brian was a werewolf with incredible olfactory senses, so he’d know immediately. While ending this date with a wild and passionate fuckfest sounded utterly perfect to me, I knew that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to take it slow. He wanted to prove to me—fucking swoon—that he was interested in me, not just sex with me.

Maybe I was a little bit contrarian, because that just made me want to have sex with him even more.

Unholy fuck, I wanted to have sex with him so bad. I needed to stop thinking about it, because it wasn’t happening tonight, which was… wow, a really surreal thought to have. Had I ever been on a date that didn’t end with sex?

Oh wait, yeah. I had. Recently, in fact. Those two awful dates with Clarence.

They didn’t count, though. And I really didn’t want to ruin my mood by thinking about Clarence the Creep and his billy goat beard that had gone down the front of my shirt when he tried to kiss me. Blegh.

I lived on this side of town, so after we left the park, Brian walked me home. He held my hand the entire time. His palm was warm against mine, and I liked the rasp of the thick calluses under each of his fingers, likely from lifting weights. His fingers were long and strong and masculine. I absently rubbed my fingertips over the little scars and healing scabs on his knuckles.

The dichotomy of Brian was fascinating to me. He was so sweet, so gentle and shy, but so fierce and ferocious at the same time. Maybe the contradictions should’ve set off alarm bells, but they didn’t. I already felt completely safe with him. There was a glaringly obvious difference between men who used their strength to intimidate and men who used it to protect. Brian was the latter.

The butterflies in my belly started going completely wild when we got to my apartment building and stopped at the front step. My breathing was a little shaky with nervous excitement as I turned to face Brian and smiled up at him, and for a second or two I was surprised by the reaction I was having. I’d dated so much that I guessed the sheen of all these defining little first-date moments had worn dull at some point without me even really noticing. But now, with Brian, that sheen was back and brighter than ever. It was practically glowing. I’d already kissed him, but I was still breathless and trembling with anticipation at the thought of doing it again. We’d already had sex several times, but my body was yearning for the future date—whenever it may be—that would end with us in bed together.

It all felt new and exciting again with him.

“Um…” Brian was blushing now, shifting from foot to foot as he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. “This was really, really great.” He winced before I could respond. “Shit, that sounds like such a line. I really mean it, though.”