by JC Holly
The chat with Bobby after Conway had left had been brief, but had garnered a few hints as to the identity of the attackers. As well as the accent clue, Bobby thought he might have heard a name as they were running away. Sharon. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start.
The more interesting clue was the most vague. Bobby, his voice low because he didn’t want to mention it out loud, mentioned that he got a feeling from two of the men. Their scents were covered by perfume, he’d said, but there was a sense of something “different” about them. That generally meant shifters, demonic blood, or some ability with magic, and since a shifter could instinctively identify another, that left only two possibilities. It at least narrowed the field a little.
As he turned back to his beer, a shiver went up his spine, bringing his attention to the doorway to his right. There was nobody there. He frowned and turned away again, only to catch someone’s entrance in the corner of his eye. It was Mica, the guy from the previous night, as well as the park that morning.
If Mica had spotted him, he didn’t show it. Instead he walked past to the far end of the bar, where the bartender was polishing a glass.
“What can I get you, cutie?” she asked, a smile on her face.
“Whatever beer you have will be fine.” The man sat. “I need something to take away the taste of three hours in an art gallery.”
The bartender chuckled and fetched him a bottle, then headed off to another patron, a swing in her hips that hadn’t been present earlier. Suddenly Jerry’s own feelings toward the man didn’t seem so rushed. It appeared Mica had quite the effect on all kinds of people.
Alone, Mica’s smile shifted to a neutral expression, and he sipped his beer while he took in the bar.
There wasn’t much to take in. Jerry had been going to the bar for years, and had never seen it more than half-full, and at that time it wasn’t even near that. Other than them, there were seven other patrons. All were male, and it was clear that none of them interested Mica.
The same couldn’t be said for the others, though. More than a couple of them had cast glances Mica’s way, and it wouldn’t be long before at least one of them approached. Jerry wasn’t a jealous man, and certainly not when he’d not said so much as a single word to the object of his desire, so he sat back and watched with interest.
Sure enough, after a couple of minutes a blond man Jerry knew to be a bit of a hit with the guys strolled over to Mica.
“Hey,” the man said. “You new here?”
Mica nodded, not paying much attention to his admirer. “Came in last night.”
“Well, if you want to see the sights, let me know.” Blondie thrust out a hand. “I’m—”
“Not interested. Thanks.”
Blondie’s expression shifted at the interruption to one of mild anger, but as Mica smiled so did Blondie, his irritation instantly dissolving. “Hey, no worries. Have a nice evening.”
Jerry smiled, too, then spun back to face the bar as he realized. He hadn’t meant to smile. If anything he’d found Mica’s control over Blondie to be a little disconcerting. As soon as he’d seen Mica smile, though, he couldn’t help himself.
There was clearly something different about the man. Strangely, though—especially given the spate of attacks—It didn’t worry Jerry. It just made him want to get to know the guy a little better.
“Hi.”
Jerry jumped a little at the voice, which was closer than expected. He turned to find Mica sitting down on the stool beside him.
“I’m Mica,” he said. “I figure a good way to avoid the attention of the local populace would be to attach myself to a big guy like you.”
Oh, you can attach yourself to me, all right. Right on the end of my—
“Jerry.” He held out his hand and smiled. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. And that’s not a pickup line.”
“The park, this morning. You were running, and I was at the fountain with a friend.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “That’ll be it.”
“And the night before.” Mica raised an eyebrow. “We passed each other.” He leant closer. “Honestly, I had a hard time getting you out of my head.”
Jerry felt a little knot of worry disappear. So he’d had the same reaction. That meant Jerry wasn’t a creep. He was a little surprised by how upfront Mica was, though. He’d seemed more…subdued, judging from what Jerry had overheard in the park.
“So, you’re new in town or you don’t go out much,” he said. “I know most of the locals.”
“In a city this big?”
Jerry shrugged. “Been around a long time, and worked the door on more than a few clubs.”
“I see.” Mica shifted on his stool, his knee grazing against Jerry’s. “I’m new. Came in last night, in fact. Maybe you could show me the sights.”
“I’m sure your friend has that covered.”
He smiled. “Those weren’t the kind of sights I was thinking of.”
“Oh?” Jerry could feel the lust coming from the man. “And what sights were you thinking of?”
Mica slipped a hand from the bar and onto Jerry’s thigh. “Well for a start I was thinking of getting a look at your cock.”
Chapter Five
Mica let the suggestion hang in the air, and watched Jerry’s expression carefully. Not everyone liked it when he got straight to the point.
It was odd, when he thought about it. When he was going about his day-to-day stuff, he was so laid back he was practically asleep. When he was horny, though, he almost became another person. And that person only had one thing on his mind.
Jerry’s eyebrows raised slightly, but it was barely noticeable. He glanced to either side, then licked his lips and leaned in.
“Only if you promise to suck it dry.”
Mica let a slow smile take over his face, one he knew was oddly contagious, and nodded. “Bathroom?”
Jerry drew himself to his full height. “Now.”
The size of the man combined with his order sent a chill through Mica. Normally he liked his men a little meeker, but not being in charge for once certainly held an appeal. He followed behind him, and noticed more than one envious glance in his direction from the other patrons.
Once inside the bathroom, Mica was expecting them to head into a stall and lock the door. Jerry had other ideas, though. Instead he turned around on the spot and began to unfasten his belt, there in the middle of the small mirrored room.
“What if someone comes…” The rest of the question was lost as Jerry’s pants slid down to reveal his cock. “Holy fuck.”
To say Jerry was well endowed would be an understatement. He had to be eight inches long, and he wasn’t even fully erect. As he pulled it free and began to stroke, it slowly grew further, thickening as it lengthened, ending at easily ten inches. Mica’s mouth began to water. He didn’t even want to think what it would feel like inside him. Depending on the man’s skill, it would either be the worst day of his life or the best.
For now, though, that wasn’t an issue. Mica dropped to his knees on the bathroom floor, his foot surreptitiously holding the door shut, and ran a finger along Jerry’s length.
“Would you look at that…” As he reached the tip, he squeezed gently. “I don’t know if my mouth is big enough.”
Jerry moved forward a step, bringing his cock closer. “Let’s find out.”
It was clear who was in charge. Mica nodded once, then opened his mouth, his tongue poking out. Jerry moved closer still until his cockhead rested on Mica’s tongue, then pushed forward. Mica took the first few inches without moving, then gripped Jerry’s shaft and began to suck softly. Jerry seemed to relax, which Mica took as a good sign. Slowly he began to take more length until he could physically take no more, then bobbed his head back and forth, letting the thick cock slip in and out of his mouth.
“That’s it,” Jerry murmured, his eyes half-lidded. “You’re a good little slut.”
Mica almost stopped in surprise, but on
second thought he could hardly argue the point. He was blowing a stranger in a bathroom. Besides, hearing Jerry say it kind of turned him on.
As always happened during any sort of sex act, Mica started to gradually feel more and more energetic. The few aches and pains from all the walking he’d done earlier in the day began to fade away, leaving behind a sense of mild euphoria in their place. As the sensation built, so too did Mica’s speed, and within minutes he was hard at work, sucking, stroking, and squeezing like it was the last cock he’d ever taste.
Jerry certainly enjoyed the ride, that much was plain. His breathing had become shallow, and a soft growl reverberated around the room. He was like a wild animal, barely held in cage of a human form. That thought turned Mica on even further, and he shifted one hand down to his own pants, and began to stroke himself through the fabric of his pants.
It wasn’t much longer until Jerry began showing the signs of being close to orgasm. Mica was hovering on the edge, too, and worked feverishly on both Jerry’s and his own cock. He came with a cry that was muffled by Jerry’s cock, and felt a warm wetness spread through his boxer shorts. A moment later Jerry pulled back and began jerking his cock hard.
“Open your mouth,” he said. It wasn’t a request.
Mica did as he was told and opened wide, just as Jerry came hard. Thick gouts of warm and salty semen hit Mica’s tongue, lips, and face, as the hung stranger worked every last drop out, his fist almost a blur on the end of his cock. Mica closed his eyes and took it all, too caught up in his own euphoria to even care if someone barged into the room. Let them look.
Jerry sagged and let out a long breath, then shook his head vigorously. “Wow.”
Mica licked his lips. “Good?”
The big man laughed. “I don’t know what you did, but I haven’t come that hard in a long time.”
Mica shrugged. “I get that a lot.”
* * * *
Jerry hadn’t been flattering Mica. The encounter in the bathroom had left him feeling both elated and drained. Elation could be explained away with the reasoning that it had been a while. The tiredness, though, was a head-scratcher. Shifters didn’t get tired from something as simple as sex. It took a hell of a lot of effort.
Even so, after they had cleaned up Jerry had handed the guy his number before leaving. If it turned out to be nothing, he didn’t want to throw away his chances with Mica, after all.
He arrived back at his house just as the sun was setting, but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He had two sets of questions he needed answers to. The most pressing was related to the attack on the shifter in the clinic. As much as he wanted to spend some quality time with the Internet, researching what Mica could be, Bobby’s attackers were still out there. After a quick shower and change of clothes, Jerry was back in his car and headed to the seedier side of town.
The roads were quiet that night. So quiet that when his phone rang he nearly jumped out of his seat. Half expecting Mica, he answered the call without checking the ID.
“Hey.”
“Where are you?” Conway asked.
“Heading into a pool hall I know the owner of. Sometimes he hears things about local action.”
“Bobby’s out of the clinic.”
“Good.” I’m surprised you cared enough to check. “Is anyone watching him, in case he’s attacked again?”
“Snow said he had it covered. Sounds like they’re opportunists, though. I doubt they’d try anything on someone who was expecting them.”
“True.” Jerry took a left and found himself in a line of traffic. “If I find anything out, I’ll call.”
Conway grunted a thanks then hung up, leaving Jerry with his own thoughts again. Unfortunately those thoughts kept veering back to Mica on his knees with a mouthful of cock. Jerry sighed and lowered his head to the steering wheel.
“Focus.”
He wasn’t usually so obsessive, especially over something as minor as a blowjob in a club. It was like the guy had some sort of spell over him. Jerry frowned and straightened.
“Huh.” He chewed his lip. “That’d explain a few things.”
The traffic began to move forward, and with a supreme effort he managed to switch his brain’s tracks back to Bobby and his assailants. Just in time, too, as two turns later he pulled up outside the pool hall.
The place was named Crow’s, after the nickname of the owner. Rumor had it that he’d earned the name by plucking someone’s eye out. It was almost certainly a lie, but it kept aggression to a minimum. On the premises, anyway.
The first thing Jerry noticed on entering was the smell. That was common, given his supernatural senses, but in some cases it wasn’t a good thing. Right then he’d have traded anything for a human nose again. Stale booze, sweat, and a bathroom that hadn’t been cleaned since the place opened conspired to knock Jerry to the floor. He fought back the urge to throw up and headed to the bar.
Crow himself was in his usual place, leant against the back wall behind his counter. He nodded once, his lank black hair dropping over one eye.
“Been a while.”
Jerry nodded back and sat on the least filthy stool. “I couldn’t stay away any longer.”
Crow snorted. “It’s the ambience, right?”
“That, or the watered-down drinks.”
He cracked a grin. “Speaking of, what can I get you?”
“Vodka, straight.”
Jerry took the drink once it was poured and turned to admire the décor. The only clean spots were the places people sat, and thus transferred the dirt to the seat of their pants.
Eight pool tables lay in regimented rows of two, each with a low light sat over the top. Three of the tables were in use, and every man eyed Jerry right back. He wondered whether it was suspicion of a new face, or if they were deciding how much he was carrying in his wallet.
A glass thudded onto the bar behind him, and all the men turned back to their games, eager not to piss off Crow.
“So, what are you really here for?”
Jerry turned back to Crow, then leaned forward. “You hear about the attacks on shifters?”
The man glanced about the room, then nodded once. “Nothing specific, though.”
“Anything you have.”
“There was someone in last night,” he replied, his voice quieter. “Bragging about ‘taking down a bear’. Thought he was talking about hunting at first, but it became clear what he meant the more he drank.”
Jerry felt heat rising in his core as his animal instincts kicked in. “Description?”
Crow pulled a cardboard beermat from a pile to his left, then scratched down a few brief notes about what the man looked like. He slid it toward Jerry. “Here. He was sat over in the back corner, near the jukebox. Think he was the last person to sit there.”
Jerry glanced at the mat, then tucked it away. “What do I owe you?”
Crow shook his head. “Shifters make for good customers. Get the guys attacking ‘em, and we’ll call it even.”
Jerry nodded and slapped Crow on the shoulder as he stood, then made his way to the back of the room. The jukebox made for a good cover, and he bent over it, studying the track list as he took in a deep breath through his nose.
A maelstrom of scents assailed him, and it took a good minute to sort through them, discarding those that were of no use. Underneath the usual bar smells, he pinpointed a strong perfume that could have been the one the attackers used to mask their scents. As well as that he picked up hair gel, and shifter blood. The latter had him fighting back a snarl. It was Bobby’s blood.
Chapter Six
Mica woke from a slightly better night’s sleep than last night to find Molly stood in the doorway, this time without breakfast.
“What was our cardinal rule?” she asked, her eyebrow lifted.
“Huh?” Mica rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“The number one rule of our friendship, Mica.” She waited a moment, then sighed. “When one of us gets laid
, we tell the other.”
Mica pulled himself up onto his elbows and yawned. “I didn’t get laid.”
Molly walked into the room and sat on the corner of the bed. “Well you got something.”
“True. How did you know?”
“A friend knows.” She slapped at his foot through the covers. “Tell.”
What was there to tell? He’d finally talked to the guy he’d been thinking about for two days, and ended up blowing him in a bathroom. It wasn’t exactly the heights of romance.
Still, it had been a hell of a good time, he had to admit. And he had every intention to call the guy at some point that day to arrange a meet up. Whether that meeting would involve coffee, lunch, dinner, or a motel room and a bucket of lube, he hadn’t yet decided. A large part of him hoped it was the latter, though.
“His name is Jerry,” Mica said after Molly hit him again. “It’s the guy who was jogging in the park, actually. I struck up a conversation in the bar.”
“Uh huh. And how long until someone’s cock was in someone else’s orifice?”
He shrugged. “Five minutes? I wasn’t really counting.”
“Yeesh!” Molly rolled her eyes. “If I move that fast, I’m a slut. If a guy does it…”
“Nah, I’m definitely a slut. No question.” He grinned. “Difference is I don’t give a fuck.”
“That’s true. I should learn from you. So, did you get his number?”
“I did.”
“And will you use it?”
“Probably. Any suggestions?”
“There’s a coffee shop a couple of blocks from here that’s awesome. They do great gelato, too.”
“Jelly-whuh?”
“Ice cream.” Molly laughed. “You really are a hick, aren’t you?”
“I prefer to think of it as having simple tastes. Bread, milk, cocks the size of tree trunks…”
Her eyebrows raised once more. “Jerry’s big, huh?”