Page 14 of Marked By Feral Monsters
And we've just lost something vital.
Time.
We haven't lost everything, though. She exists. She's out there. And we may not be allowed at her place of work, but knowing where she'll return will have to be enough.
We take a few steps down the street toward our parked SUV. And that's when I spot them.
Panties.
Small, white, cotton, simple panties.
The guys scent her, but don't understand why. She's not anywhere nearby. I lean down and pick them up. Their eyes collectively light up when I pick up the pair and hold them close to my nose. Dry now, but at one point recently, they were soaked. They smell like apples and autumn and pussy.
My dick presses against my zipper. Knox rips them out of my hands.
I laugh into the night sky.
Fuck. Okay, mystery girl. Game on.
Lily
My teeth grind when the blaring alarm on my phone goes off, jarring me out of a fitful sleep. My hand smacks out, and the phone slips off the end table, the beeping continuing out of reach, muffled by tossed pillows and blankets. I want to scream, but that's just more noise on the pile. Reaching over the side to silence it, I accidentally roll over and off the bed, landing with anoof.
Yeah, this all tracks.
I feel even worse than last night. There's a heavy ache in my bones, rattling from the inside out. Unsettling and churning.
It's just a job, I remind myself, not for the first time since I serviced those werewolves. They tipped me well. They tipped me insanely well, actually. Probably because they felt bad for me. I did such a terrible job they knew I wasn't getting any other business.
Last night before I left, I told Eli I needed to leave early and was taking today off. His answering wince was all I needed to know—I looked like shit. Misery was etched on my face, which was ridiculous.
It wasn't as if my fiancé left me for another woman. Again.
No, this time it was complete strangers.
It can't just be that, but I keep going over the night in my head, repeatedly, trying to figure out what I did wrong, orwhy I felt so attached and empowered with them, only to get crushed when they walked away. It's got to be more than just a potentially shitty blowjob that has me all tied up.
It's wondering whether I made the right decision in starting this job. Breaking out of my shell, trying something new. If beige walls and office planners really are better suited.
It's this gnawing uncertainty that I leapt too quickly—I reacted, and I never react.
I'm a planner. And planner's plan. What business did I have trying something so crazy as to perform sex acts in a monster's pleasure house?
Before last night, I was getting by okay. I was ready to take Eli up on his job offer, but Ihadto try the lower deck, just once. Anonymous oral sex, what could go wrong?
I refuse to believe that whatever happened in that little room last night is responsible for this strange knot of anguish tightening in my chest, but I really was okay before I went down there. A little sad. A little anxious.
But I was okay.
Now I don't know what to do.
At least my parents are away on a cruise, and I can afford to take today off from work to lick my wounds.
Besides, when I got home from work last night, I realized that not only had my soaked panties fallen out of my bag, but any of the monsters I work with, or regulars who I serve at the bar, could recognize my scent if they found them. I'm already too mortified to face anyone today. That was just the fucking cherry on top of my night.
I'll be okay tomorrow. Probably.
I just need to stop asking myself,why did they stop after two?
