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The coach house was mine again, and I knew myself just that little bit better than ever before.
There was something about a girl in a skirt in a hardware store.
"Need some help with—"
"I'm good, thanks," I said automatically, for what seemed like the hundredth time. I was up on my toes, reaching for the rough cut walnut four by fours overhead, and I twisted to deliver a perfunctory smile to whatever male employee had marked me as damsel in distress of the hour.
My smile froze in place at the sight of moss green skin, bright white tusks tipped with gold, and black eyes with a vivid ice blue center.
The orc's nostrils flared as our eyes met. He was dressed in a T-shirt tight enough to test the construction of the seams and a baggy pair of jeans with the cuffs rolled up. He wasn't nearly as tall as Khell, but he was even broader and charmingly squat. Or maybe the charm was the way those pointed ears stuck far out from the sides of his head.
I hadn't seen another orc since Khell left the cottage, and there was a giddy relief in my chest. I'd started to wonder if I'd made Khell up, and now here was proof otherwise. If this orc existed, so did mine.
He cleared his throat and stepped back, eyes flicking up and down my body. Orc bait, I remembered Khell saying. Was this orc about to—
"Sorry." he grunted. "Didn't realize."
And then he turned tail and hustled as quickly down the broad aisle as his bulky frame allowed.
Hmm. Maybe not such bait after all. I was an odd mix of relieved—he wasn't Khell—and disappointed. Did I have something on my face, or…
Oh.
I remembered the flare of his nostrils, the widening of his eyes, and my cheeks flushed with heat in the aisle. It'd been almost a week since I’d left the cottage. The same amount of time I'd spent with Khell, I'd now spent away from him. And still, that orc was able to smell Khell on me. How long would that last?
I chewed on my bottom lip and wondered if I cared. I hadn't been thrilled with arousal by the new orc. It'd been more like the comfort of seeing something familiar. My time with Khell'ar had taken my fascination with orcs and replaced it with an obsession for one in particular.
I still felt his claws digging into my ass at night, his tusks scratching their way up from my breasts to my throat, his cock pumping inside of me.
"Hey, honey, you need any—"
"I'm good!" I squeaked out, jumping in place and remembering that I was not in the dungeon of the cottage, waiting to find out what Khell had planned next for us, but in an aisle of my favorite hardware store.
I pressed my thighs together, ignored the older man who'd come to see what a young woman in a skirt was doing in the lumber aisle, and rose up on my toes to grab what I needed.
CHAPTER 19
Khell’ar
"This the last of them?" Rafe asked, nudging his boot against the boxes I'd set by the front door of the apartment.
I grunted, my back to Rafe, checking in each door to be sure.
"You're getting even chattier in your retirement," he called to me.
I grunted again and then stiffened as he started to chuckle. Raphael, or Rafe, was a fellow—formerly fellow, I corrected myself—MSA employee, and the only one of my non-orc friends who would cheerfully help me move from one apartment to the next. Orcs were out of the question for the time being. If any of them knew about me mating and then letting Sunny walk away without knowing the truth, they'd beat me into the ground and tell me to stay there until I was ready to try sprouting again.
All Rafe had said when I’d explained why I'd left MSA was a thoughtful, "Huh."
"Wanna get a hot dog on our way to your new place?" he asked, stacking the boxes and lifting them all at once. Rafe was tall and wiry, with pristinely carved muscle, but I had no doubt we were evenly matched in strength. In truth, he probably had me beat. Gargoyles had the strength of their stone forms, even when they walked in their flesh.
Rafe paused, shifting the boxes into one arm and reaching up to fuss the dark curls atop his head with the other, one eyebrow raised, waiting for my answer. I'd seen him eat before, and I knew “a hotdog” was really a stack of them, plus a half-dozen sides on top of that. Aside from their muscular strength, gargoyles also seemed to have exceptional intestinal fortitude.
"I'll eat," I said, forcing out something other than a grunt.
"I'll take it," Rafe said with a nod and a grin.
I surveyed the small apartment a final time. I didn't have any particular attachment to the space. I’d spent more time between the gym and MSA appointments than I had here. I'd already picked out a couple gyms near my new apartment in Ravenswood and started to scout for some trade work. I had more than enough savings, which meant plenty of time to search, and I'd taken a month to month lease, just in case.
