Page 69 of Stags

Sometime after lunch, he went out looking for her scent again.

He didn’t know why.

But he couldn’t manage to fight it, so he simply did it. But now, there had been so many deerkin out there, so much fucking, so many scents, that he couldn’t find her trail back to the Center anymore.

They’d had another run in the morning, he realized. There was always one on Friday, two on Saturday, and then one Sunday morning.

Then, he suddenly did find her scent, on a tree stump, mixed with another scent, a male scent, a buck scent.

It made him howl.

Before he even could stop it, he’d thrown back his head and howled into the afternoon sunlight, howled out his pain and displeasure that she would let some other man into that pussy of hers.

But of course she would.

That was why she was here. She was in some heat or whatever, because the deerkin were in season, and obviously, she wanted to be fucked by a male of her own species, probably lots of males of her own species. She was a little preykin slut that he should not waste his time on—

Even though he never thought things like that about women.

Didn’t even get it, in fact. He had said this to other men before, that he didn’t understand why men would not want a woman who was eager to have sex.Being in a relationship with a woman who isn’t interested sounds frustrating,he would say.

I agree,his brother had said once.I’m not into it, either, but I think the allure is that, like, she wasn’t interested in anyone until you or something, like you make her interested, because you’re so good at sex.

Well, she wouldn’t know if you were good or not if she hadn’t had sex before you, would she?

I guess not.

So, the idea is more that you should just have someone who doesn’t know what good sex is,he had said.

And he and his brother had both laughed at the idiocy of other men.

But now, this, it was different, because he got it now. He wanted her to himself. He didn’t want anyone else to have her. He just wanted it be to her and him and no one else. He wanted her to want him the way he wanted her, and that was exclusively. And… and…

He followed her trail back to the Center.

This time, he went right up to the courtyard and inside.

He followed her scent over the carpet, looking like a crazy man, because he kept putting his nose on the damned floor. He followed her scent to an elevator bank, and then he figured he was screwed, because there was no way he’d able to find the floor where she’d gotten off.

Except he did.

He scented it.

And then went down the hallway to a room, which must be hers.

He stood there, in the hallway, outside the room, shaking his head, angry with himself.

But at this point, he’d come this far, hadn’t he?

He knocked on the door.

The door opened and there she was, wrapped only in a robe, her hair wet. She was startled. “I thought you were my room service,” she said.

“Sorry,” he said.

“How did you find me?” she said.

“I tracked you,” he said.

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