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I was trembling, on the knife’s edge of coming. I wasn’t surprised that I had such a hair trigger after four long years of nothing but sex toys and my own hand.
“Uh-huh.” Larkin stroked Cora’s back like an evil villain as they both watched us. Even the little dog looked like she didn’t believe a fucking word of it. “And Holt was just giving you mouth to mouth, right? Or mouth to dick—”
“Enough, Lark,” Holt snapped, appearing flustered as he twisted around on the couch to face the windows again.
With horror, I looked toward them too. Oh my god, had everyone seen us going at it on the couch?
But when I looked down at the arena, I realised all eyes were glued to the wrestling match currently taking place. A beefy guy with big wings and stony grey skin—he looked kind of like a gargoyle—was swinging a burgundy-skinned demon around by his tail.
The demon was dressed as a sexy nun.
When I remembered that they actually were a gargoyle and a demon, a bark of hysterical laughter left my mouth.
Holt was sitting closer than before, and he looked over at me immediately with a concerned frown. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just—” I let out a slow breath. “Processing, I think.”
“We can go hang out in my office,” Holt said quickly. “To talk. About… stuff.”
Larkin snorted behind us, making my face flame red.
“No, it’s okay.” I shook my head. As much as I wanted to get back to what we’d just been doing, a part of me felt like I needed to watch. I needed to let it truly cement into my brain that all those people down there—and the two people in this room with me—weren’t human.
I was literally the only human here.
“So, um…” I scrubbed my cheek and nodded down at the ring. “Those guys are… a demon and a gargoyle?”
“Incubus,” Holt said huskily, back to sounding a little nervous, like he thought I genuinely might pass out again. “They don’t really like the term demon. But yeah. That’s Nunhallowed Pound—the incubus—and Bedrock Biff Clawstin.”
“They’re boning,” Larkin piped up from the couch behind us. “I walked past Biff’s dressing room last week and it sounded like they were ripping each other to shreds. But in, like, a sexy way, you know?”
I nodded absently, even though I didn’t know, and tentatively asked, “And, um, what’s High Lord Crossbody?”
“A fae. Well, a royal fae. His mom is the queen of the Spring Court. There’s some, uh, family tension there, because he left to do this instead of staying to be a prince.” Holt jerked his chin in Larkin’s direction. “Lark’s a fae too. Not a royal one though. Obviously. Look at him.”
A fae. A fairy? As in the sweet, delicate little things that floated around being all graceful and ethereal? Larkin was one of those? Wide-eyed, I slowly looked back at him. He shot me two finger guns while chewing open-mouthed on a fistful of pretzels.
“And does everyone have, um… powers and abilities like you do?” I turned back and asked Holt. “You know, like your emotion-piggybacking thing.”
“Not all of us, no.” He shrugged. “Some are just different species. Not, like, magical beings or anything. Like Corey. He’s an orc, but he doesn’t have any special powers or anything. Well, except being gigantic and ridiculously strong.”
“And coming, like, a gallon when he nuts,” Larkin added. “Apparently. So I’ve heard about orcs. Haven’t had the pleasure yet.”
Holt rolled his eyes and ignored Larkin. “Fae can fly, obviously. Vampires… well, you know the deal with those. Incubi and succubi… I’m sure you’ve heard stories about them too. Um… oh, ailyns like Axel are pretty rare. Lampyrs are common, though—the true shapeshifters. Hold on, let me find one so you can see what they actually look like…”
He leaned forward to peer down into the arena, so I did the same. But my spine went ramrod stiff when I felt Holt’s hand creep onto my upper thigh and squeeze.
My half-hard cock jerked in my pants, stiffening back up in a rush. Holt’s long fingers massaged my thigh as he pointed to someone below.
“There. The big group to the right of the stage, with the kind of yellow-green skin and white hair?”
I tried to focus, following the direction of his finger to see a cluster of people just as he’d described. Their features were somewhat bland and nondescript aside from the unusual skin tone and pointed ears.
“I see them.” I nodded, trying to sound normal as Holt’s palm stroked, dipping down between my legs to my inner thigh. My knees automatically opened wider until my right one pressed against his. “Um, so, why do you call them true shapeshifters?”
“Because we’re all technically shapeshifters.” Holt’s voice had grown a little huskier. “We can all take a human form to blend in. We call them our human skins.”
I vaguely remembered hearing him hiss something about skins to Larkin last night after realising I wasn’t his stripper.
