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Music filters through the walls of my bedroom. As thick as they are, I don’t normally hear such things, even with my enhanced hearing. But the live music is a much higher decibel than normal day-to-day noises, or the chef’s music playing through the speakers of the kitchen.
My skin prickles and I know she’s stepped inside my home. Most likely wandering around with her shifter friend. Mingling with other guests and filling the rooms with her scent. Perhaps dodging advancements from others.
That final thought is what pushes me into action. Faster than the snap of a finger I finish adjusting my accessories and secure my mask. With a quick glance at the mirror, I note that the mask provides just enough anonymity to bolster my confidence. If I manage to make a fool of myself tonight, I could simply try again. She would be none the wiser.
Ignoring the logistics of her being able to sense my presence and most likely my scent, I stroll with confidence from my rooms and head toward the ballroom.
At least Keith helped to quell my thirst. Now I should have no issue at all around my guests.
Around her though? It’s hard to say how long I will last before my desire wins over my control.
The moment I hit the ballroom her scent envelops me.
It’s fire and petrichor. Mouthwatering. My hair stands on end and a low growl forms in my throat.
Fuck the pleasantries with guests. I need to get to her. Now.
I just hope she is ready for me.
Hungry Bitch
Ginger
With the elegant little masks covering all of our faces, it is impossible to tell who was who. But the sight of the room when we enter is what finally has me relaxing.
While masks are all in place, it is obvious this is a para-exclusive event. Orcs let down their glamor, and shifters adopt their half-shift forms. Witches and warlocks flick their magick here and there to impress potential bedmates. Unlike in the towns where we live, this place is where we can be free to be ourselves.
For the first time in weeks, I actually feel comfortable. I huff a sigh of relief, even as my stomach clenches a little with anticipation. Of what though? I’m already in the door.
“Aren’t you glad I dragged you along with me?” Lexi whispers in my ear.
A tall waiter with glowing yellow eyes and thick forearms offers us a tray, which we happily pluck two flutes from. After giving me a once-over, the waiter winks at me and licks his lips. “Oh yes. Very much yes.”
Laughing at my near whimper when the waiter walks away, Lexi does... well, what Lexi does at these types of events and I try very hard not to be offended. “Alright, Ginger Snap. You go chase someone with dangly bits and I’m going to go find a warm pussy to bury myself in for the night. Yell if you need me.” She doesn’t even give me a chance to respond before she slaps my ass and dives into the crowd of waving bodies on the dance floor. I should be mad at her blatant abandonment, but that’s nearly impossible when standing next to a hottie like her makes it hard to catch my own fun for the night.
My stomach growls loudly, and I wince, hoping the ebbing music is enough to cover the sound. However, since this is a room full of paras with super sensitive hearing, I really shouldn’t get my hopes up. Though, they all probably tune that kind of thing out so they don’t hear all the hungry stomachs.
Or farts. That is when things get really awkward.
“You know, I hear there is a terrific buffet in the other room. Perhaps we should get you something before you begin to eat the guests?” The deep baritone rolls over my shoulder and tickles across my skin, sending shivers down my spine and the sensation makes me close my eyes for a moment. He moves closer to my ear, “Unless that’s your preference?” He nips at my ear and I nearly melt into a puddle.
I hold out my hand in offering. “Well then by all means, please show me the way.”
He moves to my side in a quick elegant motion. Even with my two-inch heels, he still towers over me by nearly a foot. Granted, being five feet and seven inches is rather short in the para community. Still, the height combined with the sleek suit hugging his fit frame, and the locks of raven hair dusting past his shoulders hits me in all the right places. Then his scent carries to me and my stomach does flips.
When his hand touches mine, it shoots electricity up my arm and I swear it doesn’t stop until a tiny zap hits my heavy-beating heart. It’s him. But how? Why? What does it all mean?
We move to an adjoining room, and my thoughts all halt as my mouth begins to drool and my eyes nearly pop out of my head. Every food imaginable lies across tables for the guests to pick and choose from. There is even an entire section dedicated to desserts. And in the far corner? A fucking chocolate fountain.
Seriously. I have died and gone to foodie heaven.
The man releases me to offer a glass of wine in exchange for my empty champagne flute. “I apologize for my rudeness. I am Victor.”
Smiling, I take the offered drink exchange. “It’s lovely to meet you, Victor. I’m Ginger.”
When we swap glasses, he brings my free hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss on my knuckles. Ignoring the tingle from his touch, I take a sip of the smoothest malbec I have ever tasted. This place, these people, this wine... this is how I want to live. I want to savor things in life.
With his lips still pressed against my knuckles, he looks up at me from heavy lashes. The gleam in his eye is molten and I nearly spit my drink out. Instead, I manage to swallow it down. Hard.
