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With quick movements, I tug my cock out of my jeans and line it up with her tight entrance. I whisper her name into her skin and move my hips to plunge in—
“Fuck!” I cry out as I wake up with a start. It takes me a moment to get my bearings and I can almost feel Mona’s slick heat moments away from gripping my cock. I close my eyes, trying to cling to that feeling, but it slips away as I come to my senses. Early morning light filters in through my bedroom curtains and the birds outside my window sing with annoying enthusiasm.
I untangle my legs from the sheets bunched around them and grab my phone from the bedside table to check the time.7:15. This is the second morning in the past week where I’m torn from sleep by some unseen force. If I had any doubts that these dreams weren’t normal, this erases them. I’d bet money that Mona’s alarm goes off at 7:15, so she must be the reason they stop. Which begs the question—why am I a participant in her dreams?
Knowing that she’s the source of these shared dreams makes it easier to swallow what I do in them. Because the things I do…I’dneverforce myself on someone. It should make me sick to think about, but the beast inside me delights in it.
She’s admitted she enjoys the dreams. They’re not nightmares, which makes me doubt they’re linked to a magical curse. So what are they?
My cock twitches with unfulfilled need. Closing my eyes, I take it in hand and stroke it, remembering the look on Mona’s face as she came. It should feel wrong, fantasizing about taking her like that now that I’m awake, but that doesn’t stop me from coming with a shuddering moan as I think about fucking her on that sink.
After a long, cold shower to wash away my filthy thoughts, I resolve to put more effort into figuring out the source of the dreams. I did a half-hearted search through my sparse collection of arcane tomes, but know someone who might have the answer. I just hope he can keep his mouth shut about it, because I don’t want everyone knowing my business. Especially considering the intimate nature of the magic.
I dial his number and the phone rings a few times before he picks up.
“Max? What’s wrong? Are you okay?!”
I should’ve texted. “I’m fine, everything’s okay! Can’t a kid just call his dad for a chat?”
“Hah! If it were one of your sisters calling, sure. But the only time I hear from you is when there’s an issue with a job or you’re hurt.”
My heart sinks at my dad’s view of me. It’s accurate, though I wish it weren’t. I think about calling all the time, but don’t know what I’d say. Plus, I know that he’d hear how lonely I am and try to convince me to move back to the city. But I can’t go back and I can’t tell him why. Because then my whole family would know how much I screwed up, and the thought of that makes me want to die.
“I know, I’m sorry. I love talking to you. It’s just…I’m awful on the phone.”
“You don’t have to explain, honey. I’m just happy to hear your voice. We’ve been missing you around the house and the office. You’re welcome to come back for the weekend anytime. Or come back and stay for longer!”
“I miss you all, too. But things here are going alright. I’ve got a job that I’m close to wrapping up. Hopefully just another night of surveillance to confirm everything and then I’ll be done.”
“That the one Maggie helped you with? The cheating wife?” Dad’s tone tells me his brain has switched into business mode, but I don’t mind. It’s easier to manage than concerned parent mode.
“Yeah, though it’s more complicated than that. It wouldn’t surprise me if the guy she’s cheating with is up to something illegal. Or at least into some weird shit. If I had more time, I’d look into it, but you know how it is. Gotta focus on the paying jobs. I have another one lined up starting next week digging into a candidate for the Moonvale Paranormal Council. Mostly a formality, but if there're any skeletons in their closet, I’ll find them.”
“Glad to hear things are going well. Moonvale’s the perfect place to build Pearce Investigations. I’m proud of you for diving right into things. I remember how hard it was to set up in a new community when I first started out. But luckily you ended up with your mother’s charm instead of my nerves.” His voice grows warm and reverent, the way he always sounds when he mentions her.
“Thanks.” I swallow down my reflexive discomfort at the mention of taking after my mom. I love her with my whole heart, but sharing her succubus nature hasn’t exactly been the boon my dad makes it out to be. If I could erase my demonic nature and be a full witch like him, life would be so much easier.
Shame follows quickly on the heels of that thought. Mom has always gone out of her way to show me how loved and cherished I am. I don’t wish I weren’t her son—just that I wasn’t plagued by the infernal blood she gave me.
I clear my throat, pushing those hurtful thoughts aside to focus on why I called. “I ran into something while I was on the job.” I hesitate, attempting to sound casual so I don’t draw his suspicion. “Have you ever heard of magic that causes dream-linking? Someone at the local monster bar mentioned sharing dreams with another person. From what they said, it sounded like they were being brought into the other person’s dreams. I told them I’d ask around and you’re the magical expert in the family, so…” I release a tense breath after making it through the question without mentioning myself.
“Hmm. Not off the top of my head, no. But I’m happy to dig through my books and see what I can find. It’ll give me something to do other than sit around and wait for your calls.” He punctuates his words with a melodramatic sigh.
“Ha ha, I get it. I’ll call more. But seriously, thanks. I feel bad for the guy. Apparently, he’s not sleeping well.” Shit, why am I giving him more details? The more I say, the more likely he is to figure out I’m talking about myself.
“I can imagine! I’ll get on it so he can get some rest. I remember when your mom used to come into—”
I clear my throat, interrupting whatever he was about to say. I don’t need to listen to a story about my parents’ sex lives. “Right, thanks! Say hi to mom for me.”
“She’s down in the basement working on the remodel, but I can go grab her. I’m sure she’d love to talk to you!”
“That’s okay, don’t bother her. I gotta go anyway.” As much as I miss her, I don’t want to spend the next twenty minutes hearing details about how they’re redoing their sex dungeon. My parents met during a sex cult summoning gone wrong—dad stumbling into it thinking it was a normal coven event and mom the succubus summoned—and haven’t kept their hands off each other since.
Dad chats a few minutes longer, updating me on the latest happenings with the rest of the family. When I hang up, the sudden weight of the homesickness I’ve ignored settles in my chest, threatening to crush the breath out of me. Moving away and starting over was my choice. But damn, I miss them.
* * *
Tonight’s the night.I’ve tailed Lydia back to 613 Poppy Lane and watched her go inside. I’ll get a few clear shots of her with Mr. Johnson and the rest is up to my client.
