Page 37 of Zombies, Satyrs and Vampires, Oh My!

“I hope so. I mean I already feel like I know you.” I slowly skirt my way around the piano. But I keep my eyes on his face. “I know your voice and your hands and your mind.” I take a seat on the bench next to him.

The warmth of his fur-covered legs is instantaneous and all I can think about is snuggling and watching a movie.

His hands are hovering above the keys, his forearms blocking most of his lap.

“Is this okay? That I’m sitting with you?”

“Yes,” he says. But his body is practically vibrating with energy.

“Would it make you feel better if I took off my shirt? I mean my tits for your uh… tat?”

He chokes on a laugh. “Harriet, you are a revelation.” Then his arms are down at his sides and there it is.

“Holy fuck,” I say. Then I wince. “I’m sorry, I was trying not to have a reaction.”

“It’s impossible not to,” he says.

“It’s so hard and big.” I stare at it. I mean it still looks like a man’s dick, it’s just like supersized. “Like really, really big.” The mushroom-shaped tip is easily the size of a fist. The shaft itself is stout and thickly veined. I shift on the piano bench because my girly parts are definitely taking notice.

“Yeah.”

“Was it always? I mean when you were the other way, were you… shit, I’m making a mess of this.”

“You’re doing fine. Yes, I was always on the well-endowed—have to wear a magnum sized condom—side of things. But after the transition, I’m left with this.”

“Wow.” I look at his face, his handsome, handsome face. “I really will show you my boobs if it’ll make you feel less exposed.”

“As much as I’d love to see them, I don’t think that would help my current situation,” he says.

“Jace,” I whisper.

Our faces are so close now and I want to lean all the way in and press my lips to his. But I don’t want to take advantage. I mean as comical as the situation might sound, he’s been on the receiving end of some bad behavior by human women.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask.

He growls and leans in, gripping my chin and placing me just so, to where our mouths meet. Despite the aggressive sounding growl, his kiss is soft.

“Is this who you ghosted me for?” a voice comes from the open doorway. “The freak who can’t put his dick away?”

I look up to see that saber-tooth tiger guy standing like the Hulk. He’s breathing fast and his shoulders are all knotted up by his ears and I’m realizing that’s what bothered me about this guy. He has no discernible neck. I mean I’m sure it’s there somewhere. And obviously his neck, or lack thereof, is not relevant at the moment.

Pretty sure Chris was probably a beefed-up frat boy before his transition.

I stand up, but Jace grabs my wrist. “Did you follow me here?”

Chris comes closer, his lips curl up and a strange, shrill whining sound comes from his throat. The light glances off of his fangs, drawing attention to them.

“Stand up, dick boy. Come fight me like a real man,” Chris says.

And I, being the ever-helpful girl that I am, laugh. Hysterically.

Jace squeezes my wrist.

“Oh, is he serious?” I ask. Then I look up at Chris again. “Are you serious?” I shake off Jace’s hold and walk around to the front of the piano.

“Harriet,” Jace says, his tone full of warning.

I nod, but I keep my eyes focused on the big kitty cat who’s got his whiskers in a twist. “Listen, we had coffee twice and that’s me being generous because the first time didn’t really count. We are not in a relationship. I did not ghost you. I’m just not interested.”