Page 12 of Accidental Orc Daddy

A jostle of a partygoer brings me back and I realize it is all my overactive imagination. He still stands at the bar, and I have been daydreaming about this man for well over a minute now.

A ghostly feeling of his hand comes up to cup my cheek, callused thumb stroking gently in a surprisingly tender gesture amidst our fevered contact. I can barely draw myself out of the fantasy, the vapid pulse of the lights sending my imagination spiraling.

The promise of his low rumble sends fresh shivers down my spine. Eyes locked with mine, he watches as I leave the heaving dance floor. My heart hammers as I wind a path toward the bar, every inch of skin tingling in our shared electricity.

Reaching the bar, I take an easy seat, crossing one leg over the other and leaning on the cool countertop for stability. “A whiskey, please. And make it strong,"

The next time I glance over, a woman sits close to him. She brushes his shoulder, but as soon as our eyes meet, he’s waving her off, before turning his attention fully back on me. The intensity of his gaze raises goosebumps along my arms. His gaze feels so intimate, like a hundred wisps of his hands on my body, each exploring their own area and claiming it.

And it feels so right. Gone at this moment is my promise to tend only to myself. I want this orc to do what he pleases, to pleasure me and blaze the already burning desire I possess for him.

What fresh mysteries will this stranger continue to uncover in me this thrilling night? I can only surrender to the pull of attraction and adventure, and see where this whirlwind encounter may lead us next.

All too soon, Sandra's voice cuts through the haze of wanting that has clouded my mind. "Meiko, it's time to call it a night."

I glance up reluctantly to see her and our other friends gathering their things, clearly ready to leave. With a sigh, I turn back to him.

His eyes gleam with mirth as he watches me leave.

Rising unsteadily on legs turned to jelly, I allow Sandra to lead me towards the exit on unsteady feet. At the door, I glance back to see him still watching me, lips quirked in a knowing smile.

Out in the cool night air, Sandra links her arm through mine. "Come on, dreamer, let's get you home." But my thoughts remain inside with the mysterious orc who has awakened desires I never knew I possessed.

As we make our way down the dark street, I can't stop replaying my charged fantasy in my mind. His eyes, his touch, his whispered promises – they have burrowed deep under my skin. I find myself aching with longing for what more this unexpected attraction may yet reveal. Our paths have crossed, but I feel instinctively it will not be the last time. The journey has only just begun.

CHAPTER 6

Mustaf

The sea is calm, with gentle waves lapping against the sides of the ship, the light breaks not even enough to rock my yacht. Dawn is breaking, which means that the fish have only begun to stir, and all other manner of sea creatures have just started to scurry, repeating their daily pattern of survival. This is the time when the sea is at its most peaceful, and normally it would be enough to bring a certain amount of zen into my existence.

Sighing in frustration, I rise from cool Egyptian cotton sheets, intent on getting the day started. I’m frustrated and restless from a lack of sleep, hoping that a day of sailing will be enough to distract me from my thoughts.

“Coffee, black.” I bark out the order to the first attendant I see, and he quickly scurries off to carry out my request. Absently toying with the shark tooth on my lucky necklace, I look out at the lightening horizon while I wait for my friends to awaken.

My thoughts are ashore miles away, with a group of human women, and one in particular. A server hands me my breakfast, and the warm brew reminds me of the liquid eyes that captured my attention last night.

Tiger’s eye, my mind recalls. Marbles were one of the earliest games I learned, and one of my favorites was the chocolate and umber pieces with a darker slant in the center called Tiger’s eye. That’s what her eyes reminded me of.

Why am I still thinking about her? Hours later and with coffee in my system, the taste of her mouth still has me feeling intoxicated. I’ve had a bevy of women, in more places than I can count, and all of them were practically forgotten by the time I vacated whatever building, or surface I left them on.

Yet the memory of my mystery woman lingers, making me lose sleep while dreaming what could have been. Every look, touch, and moment that passed between us last night plays like a series of snapshots behind my eyes– chances I held back on.

Even as my friends stir to join me on deck, I still find myself wondering about the possibilities she held. They’re laughing freely as they order breakfast with the crew, while I continue to nurse my coffee, daydreaming about my mystical club hopper.

“Alright, who’s at the helm?” Dragan asks, slapping his knees as he stands. The men are already outfitted in open shirts and swim trunks, ready to make the most of our little vacation.

“I’ll take a turn,” Maui volunteers as he chews. Then he ducks as Fordan lobs an orange at him.

“Nice try, island boy,” Fordan quips. “Last time you piloted, we almost ran aground on a sandbar.”

“I’ll take the helm,” I interrupt, before they can really get started. “It’ll help me focus anyway.” They shoot me curious looks but say nothing and resume their previous conversations.

Their chatter trails around me as we sail along the Maldivian coastline. It’s a glorious day, with sunshine, clear skies, and turquoise waters, but my heart and head lay elsewhere. I should be joining in on their jokes and laughter, enjoying soaking up some much-needed sun, yet I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I missed out on an incredible possibility last night.

Why didn’t she linger? All the women I’ve shown even the slightest interest in have always lingered, hoping to capitalize on any chance. She was different, though. My instincts told me as much from the moment she moved into my orbit.

Then why didn’t I pursue her? It’s uncharacteristic of me to pass on an opportunity, whether in business or romance. So what made me hold back? There was something bittersweet about her countenance that spoke to me and told me not to rush. That there was something important here, something beyond a simple flirtation.

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