Page 22 of Heimlock

“Where’s my phone?”

Priscilla reaches into her purse and tosses it. My hands fumble and it slips, falling to the floor. Picking it up, I see four missed calls from Fynn. I’ve been here for six hours. There are no words to express how I feel about this discovery.

“Um, bye,” I mutter, staggering down the hallway.

She says nothing.

The flight back home is terrifying. Flying with one good eye, in the dark, close to passing out … hindsight will say it’s a stupid decision. Fynn would’ve come to get me, but then he’d know. He’d confront her. Others would know.

No one can know.

Landing in front of the house, I shift back into bi-pedal form and drop to my knees. Digging my claws into the grass, I grit my teeth, pounding down every emotion threatening to make everything worse. This is no time to be soft; it’s time to grow up. So what if I had sex? It’s just sex. Technically, it’s not my first time. It’s so far from my first time that I can’t consider the number of times.

It’s my first time with a woman, but so what? She enjoyed it; Fynn said that’s important. I just drank too much vodka.

Exhaling sharply, I push myself to stand. I need to grow up. It was just sex. No big deal. By the time I’m turning the front door handle, everything is quiet inside my mind.

Fynn’s sitting on the couch, drinking a beer. He bolts upright, worry etched into the lines of his face. “Where in the Hells have you been?” He eyes my disheveled appearance, growing suspicious.

Giving him my best smile, I wink. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Fynn returns my grin. “So you had a good time? But couldn’t send a text? I was so worried.”

“Nah, it’s fine. We had a good time.” Looking away to hide my wincing, I walk toward my room. Desperate to close the door and sob into a pillow. “Thanks again for fixing me up.”

I’m almost at my bedroom door when he calls out, “Will you see her again?”

“Probably not. I don’t like the shape of her nose.” Vomit burns my throat. I swallow hard. Not yet.

“Already picky?” he teases.

“Something like that.”

Locking the door behind me, I slide to the floor, holding my head in sweaty hands. Focus on my breath. Swallow the vomit. Again and again, I choke it down.

It’s fine.

It was just sex.

It’s no big deal.

8

Present Day

The beautiful female Elf riding my cock moves like giving me pleasure is her sole goal in life. My instincts fixate on her bouncing breasts and the generous curves of her hips. She’s raking claws down my chest, but don’t ask me her name — we didn’t exchange them.

As my fingers dig into her ass, my mind trails elsewhere. I have to be at work in an hour, and this one-night stand is lasting longer than anticipated. She was supposed to have been gone two hours ago.

It’s time for this to be over.

When I’m about to cum, I flip her over and begin thrusting into her at a vicious pace. Increase the size of my cock just enough to feel the pressure of her walls clamping around my shaft. She clings to my headboard with long nails, arching her back when my thumb finds her clit. Barely making a sound, I pump into her until her body tightens.

As soon as she cums, I let myself have the release.

Almost immediately, the high from pleasure disappears.

“Wow,” the Elf purrs, stretching out like a sphinx, sweat slicking her slim body. “I’m so glad we had time for round three.”