Page 28 of Fiends and Familiars
“Is that what putt-putt is? Not that I totally understand the idea of mini golf either. Tiny golf clubs and pea-sized golf balls? Do we have to play the course on our knees?” His little sideways smile made me weak in the knees.
“It’s eighteen holes of putting—which is why the putt-putt name. They’ve got obstacles and the courses have themes. It’s kinda cheesy, but fun.” I elbowed him playfully as we walked to the car.
“What does the winner get?” He hesitated before opening my door.
“Well, if you sink the last shot with a hole-in-one, then you get a free soda. We keep score, but that’s just for fun, unless you’d like to suggest a friendly wager, that is.”
He opened the door, his arm easing out from under mine as he placed a hand on my back. “I’m always open for a wager. Winner gets…?”
The heat of his hand seared me clear through my coat. I slid into the seat and debated whether I should suggest that the loser bought hot dogs and soda, or whether the winner got oral sex. I knew which one I wanted the most, but I’d just met Ty and didn’t want to commit myself to giving a blow job just yet.
“A kiss.”
“Just a kiss?” He held the door open, his smile so damned sexy.
“Just a kiss.” I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “For now. I reserve the right to change my mind later.”
He laughed, a deep throaty sound that shot heat down right between my legs. Then he closed the door and walked around to climb in the driver’s side.
The drive to the putt-putt course was only about twenty minutes. He asked me about my day and I went into great detail as tales of insect infestations, rats, and naked badgers made him laugh. I loved the sound of his laugh. By the time we pulled into the parking lot of the mini golf course, I was ready to suggest we head to a hotel.
But instead I tried to compose my raging libido while he walked around to open the door for me.
Hole In One mini-golf was a go-to entertainment venue for the folks in Accident. It was outside the wards, so the owner’s customer base was more human than not, but the fact that the owner was a shark shifter meant he was open to shutting the park down for “private parties” where gnomes, or minotaurs, or pixies could party without fear of encountering humans. The place had originally been owned by a human husband and wife team who’d sold it to Antwan and retired to Florida five years ago. It was off one of those rural routes that was just far enough out of town to be somewhat isolated, but near enough that it was easy to pop over for a game. Antwan had planted a few dense rows of evergreens outside of a tall stockade fence so looking into the course from outside was pretty close to impossible for anyone without wings or some super leaping skills. It kept the curious humans out when folks with wings and horns were playing.
Today the course was open to the public and we weren’t the only couple who were here at seven o’clock on a Monday night. A group of six teenagers were sipping sodas and arguing over who was going to get which color ball. An elderly couple were already on the course, carefully planning each stroke. Two men were arguing over their scorecards and calling each other duffers.
Ty walked up to the counter and blinked in surprise when he saw Antwan. I giggled, knowing everyone had the same reaction when they first saw the sharkshifter. He was built like he should be a bouncer outside a rowdy club, with shoulders so wide I sometimes wondered how he got through a doorway, and a bald head that gleamed a warm brown in the artificial light of the course.
“Two?” Antwan glanced over at me and smiled. “Addy! Nice to see ya girl. How’s the rat-and-bat business going?”
“It’s keeping me in meat and potatoes.” I reached out and put my hand on Ty’s arm. To Antwan’s credit, he didn’t even raise an eyebrow.
“Well, game’s free for my favorite witch.” His grin stiffened a little as he glanced over at Ty, and the implication was clear. Mess with my friend, and you’ll know what it feels like to have a Great White bite your leg clean off.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my club.
“His favorite witch?” Ty and I walked over to where the colored golf balls were. He didn’t sound jealous, or the least bit worried about the nonverbal threat he’d just been handed. I liked that. Jealousy was such a pain in the ass to deal with, and I wasn’t one of those girls who was turned on by two guys duking it out either.
“We’re all his favorite witches,” I told Ty. “All seven of us.”
He picked up a bright yellow ball and handed it to me. Had he known this was my favorite color, or was this just a lucky guess? As I took it from him, my fingers brushed his and I caught my breath.
“Seven? Your coven?” He picked up the red ball and it took me a second to realize what he meant.
“Oh no, my sisters. We’re all witches. I’m the second youngest.” I wasn’t sure if his type of fae had family units or not, and it seemed a bit rude to ask, so instead I shot him a cocky grin and strolled over to the first hole, placing my yellow ball on the X. “Get ready to lose, hound-boy. I’ve been honing my skills at mini golf since I was five, and I’m gonna beat the pants off you.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” he teased.
I tapped the ball and watched as it rolled up and down the fake green hills, weaving back and forth until it bounced off the backstop and into the hole.
“Booya!” I put my hands in the air. “Beat that one, buddy.”
He didn’t but came close, sinking the red ball in two strokes. We spent the next hour smack-talking, and flirting. Ty resorted to trying to distract me by running his hands down my waist to my hips, or whispering naughty things in my ear. It worked, but in the end I still won the match.
“Winner gets a kiss,” he whispered before turning me around and dipping his head.
His lips met mine, soft, warm, and gentle. Time seemed to stand still, then I moved into him and wrapped my arms around his neck. His tongue touched the seam of my mouth, asking even though I could feel from the tension in his body that he was fighting to hold himself back. I opened for him, and everything caught fire. His tongue licked mine and we pressed together, practically devouring each other on the eighteenth hole of the putt-putt course.
