She smiles. “Good.”
We decide to actually do yoga, since Bree’s stream doesn’t start until afterward. We told Jack we’d be getting dinner and drinks with some of Arthur’s yoga friends, and he just sighed and said he’d eat leftovers.
I chew on this image of Jack at our house alone as we head into the studio. All during the class, I watch Bree stretch out in front of me, her curves on full display in her tight spandex. It’s a sight to behold. The guilt weighs on me as much as I long to lick her, to splay her out in front of me and sink my cock into her. Especially now that I know what’s inside her, how she’ll get bigger and rounder with our fawn, there’s drool pooling in my mouth.
Jack
I knew something was strange when Bennett said he was going to yoga with Arthur again. Bennett’s the kind of satyr who lifts when he goes to the gym. He does the minimum amount of cardio, focusing on strength training.
Bennett and yoga don’t go together.
As I eat, I’m curious what restaurant they went to for dinner. Which of Arthur’s many friends are these?
Bennett shared his location with me a few years ago when I was trying to find him on vacation, and it’s still on. I tap and pull it up, expecting to see downtown. The studio is close enough that heading downtown for food makes the most sense.
Instead, his dot is hovering in a building to the east, by the highway. When I zoom in, it looks like an apartment building. There’s a street view, and sure enough, it’s a two-level complex with a dingy parking lot.
What is he doing there?
Maybe they’re eating dinner at someone’s house. I decide to call him with an innocuous question, like where he left the iron, to get a sense of what might be going on.
The phone rings. And rings. And rings.
No answer. That’s weird. Instead, I decide to call Arthur, who never has his phone on silent. It drives me crazy because he’s always getting calls and text messages so loud that we all jump out of our skins.
The phone rings again. Nobody answers.
Now I’m worried. Did someone kidnap them? Are they being held against their will?
Without thinking twice, I grab the keys and head out to my SUV, setting my map to take me to Bennett’s dot. Then I drive.
Eleven
Jack
My thoughts are going a million miles a minute when I pull into the same dingy parking lot as on the street view. Sure enough, I spot Arthur’s car in the lot.
So he’s here with Bennett. They weren’t dragged away by kidnappers—they came of their own accord.
What is inside this apartment building?
After parking, I get out of the car and try to pinpoint Bennett’s dot. There. It’s one of those two apartments across the way, first or second floor. How do I know which is which, though?
I expect that I’m overreacting. It’s probably just a dinner at a friend’s house, maybe some board games. I do wish I’d been invited, though.
Is that part of the reason I’m here? Simple jealousy that I wasn’t included, yet again?
No, something is off. I know it in my bones.
I head upstairs to the top-floor apartment and knock on the door. After a few moments, I hear footsteps on the other side, and the door opens.
It’s a very, very old human woman. She squints at me when I appear.
“What is it?” she demands.
“Sorry, I’m at the wrong house,” I say, backing away. “Looking for someone else.”
She cups a hand over her ear. “What?”
