Page 17 of Hot Summer's Prey

Along the Cliff are the old caves. Nearly a hundred years ago, humans used them for some sort of smuggling trade, but now they’ve fallen into disuse. Inside one is where I keep my human clothes and the tools of my trade when I am here.

I spot an abandoned towel on the beach and snatch it up. Teresa shivers hard, even underneath my jacket.

She is talkative as we make our way to the beach, joking often about me being a serial killer.

“Just promise you’ll give me the best fuck of my life before you kill me,” she jests.

I don’t like the idea of killing her, but I promise the first part.

A sinking feeling fills my belly as we get closer to the cave. I know I shouldn’t be doing this—getting lost in a human whose pleasure I cannot reap for magical means—when an entire ecosystem relies on me.

But I cannot help feeling there is something tied between us. It’s not every day a human discovers me on the beach just after a transformation—what’s more is that I didn’t act on the opportunity to seduce her there and wipe her memory.

I swallow hard, leading Teresa over the rocks using the light of the full moon, careful to make sure she doesn’t slip. To take her pleasure will be its own reward. She giggles and stumbles into me, finding excuses to touch. The nudibranch-dog struggles to get over some of the rocks, so she happily takes the creature in her arms. With her wrapped in my jacket and the stolen beach towel, the sight so adorable, I feel a pang in my chest.

A few moments pass in silence as we trek across the soft sands, comfortable yet full of tension.

“Why do you think you’re forgettable?” she asks.

So much for comfortable silence.

“Are you looking to prove me wrong?” I ask with a cocky grin.

“I genuinely don’t know how I’d forget this interaction,” she says plainly, giving the nudibranch-dog an aggressive pet. “Cute guy, cute dog, mysterious locale in the middle of the night…”

If only.

We reach the edge of the water. I turn to her, pull her in my arms.

“If you don’t want to get wet, I can carry you. The tide’s too high—there’s no other way.”

She barks out a laugh and says sarcastically, “Sure you can carry me. You’re fit, but not that kind of fit.”

I give her a kiss and a smile before stepping into the water. I feel my skin shift, ready to transform back into my natural form. It itches to hold it back.

“Hop on,” I offer, sitting back against the rocks so she can sit on my shoulders.

“You believe this, Slugger?” she asks the dog in an incredulous voice.

“If you want to swim with me, I won’t stop you,” I shrug, winking at her as I slide away.

“Wait no! Come back,” she whimpers.

A tickle runs down my neck at the whine in her voice. I like it too much. Just as much as I’m going to love having my head between her legs. I watch her fingers as she slips them along each foot to take off her shoes. Fancy. They’re teal like oxidized copper, with three straps reaching to the ankle and a copper-colored toe. She loops the straps together before motioning me over.

With a grin, I hold my back to her, hands ready to help her on. She steps over my shoulders slowly, afraid to put all her weight down. As soon as she’s mostly over, I pull her legs and settle her more stably against my neck and shoulders. She yelps in surprise, one hand shooting down to grab at my forehead for support. I wrap my arms around her thighs, giving them a squeeze.

“I’ve got you,” I assure.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters. “You can’t keep getting better.”

The compliment sends warmth through me. I tread across the water to the cave entrance only just visible in the full moon.

“Calm down, Slugger, we’re okay,” she murmurs to the nudibranch-dog as he squirms against her.

He too wants the water. It’s a good thing she’s holding him tight, or she’d be in for a surprise. Maybe. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if the Lantern Witch’s magic over him works the same way my own transformative skills do.

My bottom half has completely transformed at this point. I’ve lost the battle with my biology. With Teresa’s silky-soft thighs warming my neck and cheeks, with the scent of her literally on top of me, I was too distracted to hold it back. My sifon, too, perks to action. Teresa threads her fingers between the hairs on top of my head—for support, but to me, it feels divine. An unusual feeling as the hairs tug at my scalp. All I can think of is how I will worship her, the sounds I can’t wait to extract from her, the wetness between her legs I wish to drown in.

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