Page 5 of Love in Unexpected Places

He pulls out and I lick at his cockhead, gazing up at him. “Do it again,” I challenge, opening my mouth wide, sticking out my tongue for him.

Growling, August grips the sides of my head, thrusting back into my mouth. He fucks my throat, moving my head up and down to meet his thrusts. I relax my throat and take it, getting more turned on my how he’s using me. I reach around and slide a finger back into him, pressing past the ring of muscle.

Cursing, Augusts shoves into my mouth three more times before he stills and my mouth is flooded with his come. I swallow, loving his salty taste.

Slowly, August slides his dick from between my lips and I chase it, wanting more of him.

Dropping beside me, he faces me and kisses me soundly, his warm hands framing my face. When we’re had our fill, we separate and stare at each other.

And burst into laughter.

He speaks first when he catches his breath. “I really did just want to talk. I feel like I haven’t met anyone interesting in years.”

“We can talk now. I’m sorry. I wanted you when you sat at the bar. I’m just glad we were on the same page.”

He blushes and I love the contrast of how he is when he’s not fucking my throat.

August breaks the short silence, running a thumb over his bottom lip. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I’ve never done this before either.”

“Really?” he asks, voice going high pitched. “But you’re so … and I saw so many … flirting … I figured one person would have caught your eye.”

I breathe a laugh. “Yeah. You.”

That coloring his of cheeks deepens and he drops his head. “Wow. Okay. That’s probably the best compliment I’ve gotten in years.”

Sliding up on the bed, I put my back to the headboard after I adjust the pillows. I tap the spot beside me and August slides up as well. We face each other. “So, you’re a songwriter that likes to write on napkins. Tell me more about you.”

“Well, I’m August.” I give him a deadpan look and he snickers. “I’m thirty-two. I’ve been traveling the world since I got my first royalty check about eight years ago, so Idon’t have a home. I have a few childhood friends, but no one close. No family, since I’m pretty much married to my work.”

“Why no home?” I ask.

August stretches his legs out, resting his hands over his sexy belly. “I’ve not wanted to stay in one place for too long. I get wanderlust. I might need to slow down soon, since I feel like there’s something telling me to put down roots. Just don’t know where, ya know?”

I nod. I do know. Like him, I have no family either. Dino shifters are rare and we don’t tend to stick together after we reach maturity. My parents are somewhere close to Canada I think, but we don’t speak often. Twice a year if I remember to call for their birthdays. It’s not abnormal for our kind, but it does get lonely.

“I’ve been here for about five years,” I tell him. “It’s a really nice place to live. Low crime rate, good places to eat, good company,” I say with a wink. “It’s not usually this busy. It’s …” I don’t want to keep thinking about people wanting to take pictures of me. It makes my heart race and my hands clammy.

In all the years of dino shifters, we’ve never been caught on camera. As the only species of water dinos, I should have been safer than land shifters but here we are. Land shifters are more likely to be seen, as they don’t all live in rural areas where they can shift with ease and without prying eyes around.

August shakes his head. “Yeah, it’s crazy here. It seems like a quaint area with a nice vibe. Those people wanting to take that photo for profit are … that’s insane. Good tips for you, though, right?”

I give a forced chuckle. There’s no way he could know he’s talking to the person that is the creature in that video.

“Tell me more,” August prompts.

“Okay, well, I’m twenty-nine. Been bartending for a few years. I’m from a nearby town but moved here when I wanted something different from my accounting job.”

“You’re an accountant?” August’s eyes are wide.

Laughing, I nudge his arm with my elbow. “Don’t look so shocked. I was an accountant, yes, but I got bored with it. Not enough interacting with other people. I can talk to people all day as a bartender. It’s a good time.”

We talk throughout the night, laughing and joking. After a while, we drift further down the bed, no longer sitting against the headboard, but lying down, facing each other. We talk for hours, conversing like old friends. August is a very interesting man. There’s something about him—his calm demeanor, his thirst for knowledge, and his open curiosity—that draws me to him, making me want to know more.

Eventually, the lull between our answers get further and further apart.

I don’t even notice when we fall asleep.

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