“Because I’m not you,” I said loud enough that the guys’ focus shifted to me. More quietly, I added, “I have enough guy issues without adding to them with random sex.”
Her brows waggled. “Sex is never random.” She let go of my arm and, as I swayed into a stand filled with cloaks, walked up to the guys.
Dammit. She had the crystal, and I wasn’t going to get anywhere without it. I heard her giggle, and a deep voice murmured. It did something to my insides that I didn’t want to examine, and heat flushed straight through me.
I turned and fought my way through the cloaks, deeper into the booth.
To my horror, Kiko and the guys followed me into the maze of display racks. When I glanced back, the Satyr met my eyes, and her grin was purely predatory.
Who ever thought Satyrs were creatures of peace and love? Now that I thought of it, my books hadn’t painted them that way, either. But although my borrowed Satyr craved a party, my temporarily disabled Riley knew it would be a big mistake.
I retreated past cloaks in every color and texture imaginable, as well as silky-soft but distinctly unsexy garments designed to be worn close to the skin. For warmth, not looks. Maybe if I dressed in those, the guys would be so turned off they’d leave me alone.
I aimed for the rear of the booth, and arrived to see a partitioned area with what appeared to be changing rooms. From her perch behind the back counter, the booth’s owner raised a brow at me.
“Did you wish to try something on?” she asked.
The changing rooms looked to be the only safe haven in this storm. So yes. Yes, I did. I grabbed a few things off the closest rack with no attention to identity or sizes and ran along the rooms. Chose the one at the very end, and ducked inside. Latched the door behind me, and sank to the rustic bench within, clutching the garments to my chest.
Even Fang seemed frozen as we hid there, hanging on a precipice that was not of my making.
“Back again, I see?” I heard the owner say.
To my horror, I heard Kiko reply. “Won’t be long.”
“Same price,” the merchant insisted.
A few moments later, a male voice murmured from distressingly close. The next booth, in fact. “Not much room.”
“We’ll just have to huddle, then,” the Satyr purred.
Fuck. And she’d been here before? I held the clothes a little closer and moved away from the walls. I’m sure a black light would reveal a distressing quantity of bodily fluids.
When another sexy male voice growled, “No problem, beautiful,” it reverberated clear through to my core. I clenched my knees together and gritted my teeth. Could I bolt past them? Not likely. No way all three could fit with the door closed—their party had to be spilling out into the narrow aisle.
I was stuck here. Listening.
The words ceased, but what came from them left little to the imagination. I’d never appreciated how sex sounded—the soft smack of lips, the slithering of tongues soon giving way to groans and moans, and small noises in which wetness and friction played significant roles.
Kiko’s scent drifted over the top of the booth walls, powerful and compelling and totally decadent. And matched by my own.
I could have stood all that—maybe—if it weren’t for the final gift Kiko had given me. The energy generated by their lust pummeled me like a living thing, until I writhed beneath the undergarments, rubbing myself on the edge of the bench. It was similar to being a Dragona on cycle, and yet, not—sharper, more intense in the moment, but every bit as desperate for something hard—other than furniture—between my legs.
But much as I panted and moaned along with them, I wasn’t a Satyr. Sex, for me, mattered as something more than a meal. And so I hugged the clothes to my chest as my pelvis ground against the bench, and I climbed with them to paradise.
With them, but alone, I gasped and shattered. I breathed heavily as the guys laughed softly and Kiko sent them on their way.
Fang finally moved. I’d rubbed myself to completion on a bench in the presence of Havoc’s pet. My face couldn’t possibly get any redder.
After a bit, there was a tentative knock on my changing room door.
“You okay?” Kiko asked.
I really didn’t know. But when I stood up, I did feel stronger. I might not be Satyr, but the energy had helped.
The door swung open to reveal her satisfied smile. “That was—delicious,” she said. “How was it for you?” Her eyes gleamed.
I pushed past her. Handed the rather crumpled garments to the merchant with a murmured “Sorry, they didn’t fit,” and kept right on going.
