Page 6 of Swipe Right for Orcs
Ovivia raises an eyebrow, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. “Who have you blackmailed into going on a date?”
Rolling my eyes, I pull out my phone and open the app. I find Fairlie’s picture, the one that caught my attention in the first place, and hold it out to her. “I downloaded that monster dating app. Her name is Fairlie, I matched with her last night, and we talked almost all night. She agreed to dinner and drinks.”
Ovivia’s eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, and I can’t help but feel a smug satisfaction at her reaction. She sucks on her lip so hard her tusks pierce the skin, and she licks the blood away like it’s the nectar of the gods.
“Was she drunk or blind?” she finally asks.
“She was tipsy, which is why I’m going to message her now and check on her,” I say, shooting her a glare.
“That hot and wants to date you? No fucking way,” she teases.
“Fuck off,” I snap, pocketing my phone. “And stay away if she comes here. You’re not meeting her until she’s ready and I’m confident she’s the one.”
“Fine, buzzkill,” she mutters, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “I have to go to the clinic anyway and schedule the visit for my heat. It’s coming up, and I don’t want a repeat of that one time.”
I wince at the memory. We were new to town, still living out of a cramped hotel room. Ovivia had gone into heat unexpectedly, and in our desperation, we called in someone from the black pages to help. It ended in disaster—Ovivia lost control, and the girl… well, let’s just say it didn’t end well. Now, she checks into the monster clinic for the two days her heat lasts. It’s safer that way.
“Okay,” I say, my voice softening. “Let me know if you need anything. If it hits early, just tell me. I’ll take you in or we’ll find someone to help, and I can monitor.”
It’s not something we talk about much, but it’s a necessary precaution. Orcs aren’t shy about sex—it’s as natural as breathing to us. Back home, our village celebrations often ended in wild orgies, something I never took part in since I was too young. But even now, the thought of someone else touching what’s mine fills me with a possessiveness that I can’t quite shake.
I turn away, heading back to my bedroom to get dressed for the day. My thoughts linger on Fairlie as I walk down the hallway, my fingers already itching to send her a message. What if she’s different? What if this could actually go somewhere?
Me: Good morning, pretty girl.
My heart skips a beat when her reply comes almost instantly.
Fairlie: Morning, sexy orc man
A grin spreads across my face. She’s blunt, no nonsense, just like she was last night. It’s refreshing, in a way, to meet someone who doesn’t dance around words.
Me: Still blunt, even sober, I see.
Fairlie: Oh! I thought we were just saying obvious things about the other.
I can’t help but chuckle. This woman is something else—sharp, witty, unpredictable. She keeps me on my toes, and I’ve only just met her.
Me: You’re a funny human, Fairlie.
Fairlie: Humor and kindness are free, Osric. More people should try them.
Me: Isn’t that the truth.
Fairlie: I have a student teaching session today, so if I don’t respond here, text me! 815-721-7399.
I pause for a moment, exit the app and quickly put her number into my contacts. My fingers hover over the screen for a second before I type out a text:
Me: It’s Osric. I’m off to get ready for the day, too. Just wanted to check in on you. Are we still on for tonight?
I set my phone down after sending the last message, a small smile still playing on my lips. Fairlie. I can’t wait to see her in person and see if everything online is the same.
But as the minutes tick by, I start to feel that familiar gnawing at the edges of my mind. It’s taking too long for her to respond.
It’s too early to jump to conclusions. She’s probably just busy with her student teaching session. But the thought nags at me anyway. What if the idea of going out with me finally sank in, and she’s second-guessing it?
The clock catches my eye. It’s been a while since that protein shake, and it’s not cutting it anymore. Maybe some steak and eggs will help take my mind off things. I get up, head to the kitchen, and pull a thick steak from the fridge. The sound of it sizzling in the pan is comforting, the aroma filling the small space as I crack a few eggs into another pan.
I plate everything and sit down at the table. The food looks good enough to distract me, but my mind’s still on Fairlie. I pick up my fork and knife, cutting into the steak, the juices pooling on the plate. The first bite is satisfying, but not enough to quiet the doubts creeping in. I push them away, focusing on the meal, hoping she’ll reply soon. But as I finish up, the silence from my phone is all I can think about. She hasn’t responded. Maybe the reality of going out with an orc was too much, after all.
