Page 17 of Demon of Dreams

But that wasn’t even what I was staring at, not truly. No, what had really caught my attention was what the two men were doing. Because I knew what was making that slick sound, now. It was the greasy man, down on his knees, with the lumberjack’s cock in his mouth.

The greasy man paused for the briefest second, flicking a glance in my direction. The lumberjack’s hand was tangled in his hair, and he tugged on it, bringing the man’s gaze back to him.

“Did I tell you to stop?” he asked, his tone emotionless.

The greasy man cast an angry look first at the lumberjack, then at me. But a second later, he went back to sucking off the lumberjack like I wasn’t even there.

“Good boy,” the lumberjack said, and the greasy man’s cheeks turned pink. He looked pleased in spite of himself.

I just stared, not able to process what I was seeing. This wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a fantasy. It was really happening, in front of me, right now. Chills and heat washed across my body at the same time.

I was so embarrassed. For myself, for the lumberjack, and definitely for the greasy man on his knees. But at the same time…

At the same time, I wanted that.

Wanted it more than I’d ever wanted anything. To be in that man’s place. To be down onmyknees, sucking off the lumberjack, sweet humiliation running through me. I wanted to be the one bringing him pleasure.

Wanted to be told I was good.

The lumberjack didn’t seem bothered by what was happening at all. If anything, he seemed amused. He stroked the greasy man’s neck and looked directly at me.

“Are you next in line?” he asked, his voice like honey over gravel.

I came on the spot.

Hands-free, which I hadn’t even known was possible. I hadn’t quite tucked myself away before opening the stall door, and the tip of my cock was still poking out of my boxers, my jeans still loose around my hips. Ropes of cum splattered onto the floor.

“If you’re going to join us,” the lumberjack said, “you’ll need to get on your knees. You’ll get hard again soon enough.”

I pushed past them and ran out of the bathroom, the lumberjack’s amused laugh echoing behind me.

Shoving myself back in my jeans, I made it to the front of the Balsam Inn. I turned in a circle, wondering what to do. I couldn’t go back into the bathroom. I didn’t want to go back in the bar either. But I couldn’t stay here.

Vesperwood.Just up the road, on the right. You can’t miss the entrance. Well, if you’re meant to see it, that is.

It was all I had. I started down the road, settling into a steady jog. It was freezing, literally, and another inch of snow covered the ground. Wherever I was going, I’d better get there fast.

At first, I worried about getting hit by a car. The road wound up and down in the rocky terrain, and there was no shoulder. But after a few minutes, I began to wonder when the last time was thatanyonehad driven down the road. There were no tire marks in the snow. For all I knew, I was the only one out here for miles.

How far away was this place, anyway? Tom hadn’t actually said. Had I passed by those trees already? Were they still up ahead? And what had he been getting at, with his ‘if you’re meant to see ‘em?’

A thunderclap went off in the sky above, a crack followed by a low boom. Thunder in a snowstorm. I hadn’t known that was possible either. Maybe it was a car coming up the road, or a truck backfiring, or—

Fuck.

It wasn’t a thunderclap at all. It was the same sound I’d heard last night, outside of Red’s Motel. And sure enough, when I looked back, I could see a dark figure on the road behind me, its cape or smoke or whatever it was swirling against the white blizzard. As I watched, wings stretched out behind its back.

It saw me at the same time I saw it, and it came for me.

Oh, fuck.

I sped up. I should have just stayed at the Balsam Inn. Or in the bathroom. Or back in Kelsey’s car—I should have just been an awkward third wheel with her boyfriend. Any of those situations would have been better than this one.

A sick feeling of dread filled me any time I looked at the monster. I wanted to shriek. To cower in terror. To disappear.

I couldn’t let it catch me. Couldn’t let it touch me.

I’d been jogging before, but I was outright running now. It was dangerous. Forget cars—the road was slick enough now that every few steps, my feet slipped sideways. It was an open question, whether that thing would catch me or if I’d fall and crack my head open first.

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