Chapter 8 Bea
His kisses are like heroine
“Stay right there. Don’t move.”
Zaxon stands from the bed on wobbly legs, but still manages to swagger towards what I assume is the bathroom, giving me an excellent view of his granite ass. When he disappears through the door, the light illuminating from within, I take the reprieve to catch my breath.
Did that really just happen?
The deliciously soar wetness between my thighs says yes, yes it did fucking happen, and you loved it. Can’t argue with that. I did love it. But as the moments tick over and my heartrate slows and my brains comes back online, I begin to question if it should have happened.
I’m working, he’s an employee where I’m inspecting, not quite a conflict of interest but very much toeing the line of appropriate.
I can’t turn back time and stop it from happening though.
All I can do is move forward and try to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Just be professional. I can do that. Right?
When Zaxon returns_still butt naked_with a cloth in his hand, I’m not so sure I can be professional. There’s something magnetic about him. Something that pulls me to him, and no matter how much I know I shouldn’t, I want to let it.
To make the frog in my throat even bigger, he leans down and cleans up the mess he made on me. Thoroughly and gently wiping every speck of sticky cum from between my legs, on my stomach and glasses, smirking as he does.
I, of course, am stunned stupid and lie there staring at him like a wax figure. Before he returns to the bathroom with the rag, he places a soft, but still toe-curling kiss on my lips.
I manage to sit up and pull my dress back down around my body while he’s gone, but still can’t seem to use my legs, or my brain.
So, I force myself to focus and think, staring at the comforter on the bed, figuring out its pattern and color.
Blue and grey marbling, like stone. Cute.
Feels like organic cotton or rayon. Something silky soft without being slippery like actual silk.
I never understood silk sheet or pajamas, they’re so slippery. One wrong move and your ass is on the ground wishing you bought cotton.
“Are you okay Bea?” Zaxon asks, pulling me from my cotton versus silk sheets internal argument.
He’s sitting next to me, still naked, softening cock hanging between his legs, still massive and impressive. Why can’t I stop looking at it?
“You keep looking at my cock like that and I’ll take it as a sign you want another round.”
Immediately I jerk my chin up to look him in his smiling face.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You can look at me whenever you want Starfish.”
Ughk. Why does he have to be so sweet and call me Starfish and make me all gooey inside?
I hate gooey. I always make fun of the sickeningly sweet couples.
I’m practical, organized, meticulous, and professional.
Yet with Zaxon around, I find myself curious.
Curious about carnival games I always bypassed, and ice cream flavors I wouldn’t normally try.
Being reckless enough to partake in lude acts in a public place and letting him fly me back to his place for…
well the best sexual experience I’ve ever had.
“I…should probably get back to my room. Still have more to inspect tomorrow.”
Yeah, I’m a fucking coward, so what?
I’m confused and brain fuzzy and don’t really know what to do or how to handle it.
Every sexual encounter I’ve had in the past was thought out and planned, all expectations were laid out on the table ahead of time.
Whether it was a casual encounter or would lead to more.
This time I was unprepared. I know I wanted it, but I don’t know how much I want, if I want more, if he wants more, where this is going.
Okay that’s partially a lie, I know I want more.
I still want to know what his cock feels like deep inside me.
The unhinged raw need I feel to know that sensation is frightening.
Overwhelming even. I need space to clear my head and think.
Which I can’t do with a naked smiling Zaxon pressing kisses to my temple.
“No problem. I’ll walk you back.”
Damnit, he’s even sweet and understanding about me running away.
Zaxon slips his pants back on, hands me my discarded purse, and leads me to a door that opens to the hall. He keeps a casual touch on me the entire walk back to my room. A hand on my hip or shoulder, even holding my hand like a genuine couple.
At my door he kisses me one last time, which I do not deny. His kisses are like heroine. Addictive and mind numbing. And like any good heroine addict I can easily see myself becoming dependent on his kisses to survive.
~
Morning comes faster than I want. I didn’t figure anything out last night while I tossed and turned in bed, except a few x-rated fantasies I’d like to play out with Zaxon.
My morning starts with a knock on my door and I groggily grumble as I roll out of bed and zombie walk to answer it. I don’t even check the peep hole to see who it is, because whoever it is, is getting their ass chewed out for knocking on my door so goddamn early.
“Good morning, Starfish.” Zaxon’s perky face and wide smile greet me, and I stare at him through narrowed squinting eyes because I forgot to put on my glasses.
“What are you doing here?” I ask completely bypassing morning pleasantries because, who can be pleasant when their sleep is interrupted?
“It’s nine o’clock. I thought you might want to sleep in a little this morning, so I waited before knocking. Were you still in bed?” he asks, smirk growing bigger.
“Maybe. Stop smiling so much,” I grumble trying to see him more clearly. He’s holding something. “What are you holding?”
“Breakfast.”
He holds up the ‘breakfast.’ I think it’s in a bag but without my glasses I can’t see shit.
This is ridiculous I’m getting my glasses.
I stumble back to where they rest on my nightstand and return wearing them and finally able to see, to find Zaxon setting up his offered breakfast on my dining table.
Bagels, cream cheese, bacon, blueberry muffin, cup of coffee—ooh coffee.
I lunge for the paper cup first and remove the lid, inhaling the life-giving bean juice. Zaxon chuckles and holds up a tiny creamer cup for me questioningly.
“Yes please, and sugar.”
I make my coffee and eat the bagel with cream cheese and bacon before getting dressed for the day. All the while Zaxon watches and smiles, all casual calm like he didn’t completely derail my entire sex life last night.
How am I supposed to enjoy anything anymore, now that I’ve had gargoyle tail sex? I imagine he’s ruined me forever, expect maybe if I were to have gargoyle cock sex. That’d probably top tail sex.
And now I’m thinking about his cock and looking at his cock. Okay, I can do this. Just act normal. Inspect the next area on my list and go about my day. Yeah, sure okay. Easy.
Except it’s not easy. Zaxon is even more flirty today than he was before. That tail of his is constantly circling my calf and stroking, teasing. His hands are more friendly and so not professional.
“Okay so next thing on my list is the Casino.”
We just finished checking the bowling alley and movie theater. There was an excess of popcorn on the floor and a few sticky spots but otherwise the seats were in good condition and facilities handicap accessible with a variety of seat styles and sizes for all species of monster.
Zaxon tried to convince me to watch a movie while sitting on his lap, and although it was tempting, I said no. That’s just asking for trouble. I’d probably end up back in his bed on my back for the rest of the day and get no work done at all.
“Sure thing. It’s on the next floor. Are you a gambler? Seems like your kind of sport. Lots of rules and math.” Zaxon leads me towards the elevators brushing his wings against my backside. Again.
“I never said I liked math. Actually, I hate math. And most gambling relies on luck, which I do not rely on,” I state plainly.
“Okay then. Not even blackjack?”
We enter the elevator and join a small group who look like they’re all heading to the casino as well. Midday cocktails in hand and tentacle, wearing sparkling tops and hopeful expressions. I doubt all of them will be leaving smiling. Statistically they’re more likely to lose than win.
“How about a little roulette?” Zaxon continues trying to convince me to participate again. “All you have to do is pick a number. No math or skill required.”
“No. The odds are too low and again relies on luck.”
“But it would be fun. Even more fun if you win. Just one number?”
Zaxon steps close and sandwiches me between him and the mirrored wall, wrapping a wing and an arm around me. Tongue poking out to lick at a gleaming fang.
“If you lose, I promise to give you a consolation prize. It’ll probably be better than winning.”
His gaze grows hazy, and I can only imagine the things he can offer as a prize. As a matter of fact, he listed them for me last night. Fingers, tongue, tail, and cock. All are better than winning money at gambling or rather trying to win money at gambling, but really only losing money.
The tip of his tail circles my ankle and the touch reminds me of other places it stroked with expert precision.
My cheeks heat and Zaxon eyes the color as it stretches down my throat and chest. I can feel my nipples puckering under his gaze.
The tipsy girls giggle behind Zaxon and remind me we’re not alone.
Right. We’re in a public place and there’s people watching. I may have recently discovered I like to watch and be watched, but not by strangers in an elevator. Clearing my throat, I stand straighter and look ahead at the doors waiting for them to open.
Zaxon chuckles, and although he doesn’t resume his advances, he doesn’t withdrawal his hand or tail. Not until we exit the elevator on the casino’s level.
The floor is covered in a low pile carpeting with a pink palm tree pattern, similar to the sea turtles in the lobby and hotel room halls.
A clear path through the tables and slot machines is outlined in the carpets design leading from area to area.
Thankfully, unlike Vegas, there’s no smoking on the casino floor here.
The air smells of coconut sunblock and hand sanitizer. Still better than cigarette smoke.
Sounds of ringing slot machines and cheers from craps tables echo through the space. I may not be a gambler, but I enjoy people watching and a casino offers plenty to watch.
Pulling out my notebook and pen, I begin tracing my way around the casino floor.
Zaxon lets me lead and stays a step behind me, allowing me to focus.
I stop abruptly and hear muffled noises behind me from people running into Zaxon’s massive body as he too stops suddenly, protecting me as I kneel and finger a loose string in the carpet.
For a minute I think he’s forgotten about his consolation prize offering, that is until we make our way to the roulette tables and Zaxon’s stoic shielding evaporates in his excitement.
“Alright Starfish. Pick a number, and we’ll see what prize you win.”
I really don’t want to gamble but I just know he won’t let me hear the end of it until I do. So, I pull a five dollar bill out of my purse and trade in my bill for a colorful five-dollar chip.
“What number have you picked?” Zaxon presses in close behind me, leaning over my shoulder and sneaking a kiss to my cheek.
My thoughts momentarily scatter at the casual affection, but quickly realign as the dealer calls for bets. I slam my single chip down on number eleven.
“Ooh, eleven. Good choice. Is it unsportsmanlike of me to say I hope you lose?”
I don’t tell him that I wouldn’t mind losing and cashing in on his offer far more than winning any money. The dealer spins the little white ball, and it circles the rotating roulette wheel.
Not eleven, not eleven.
“Double zero,” the dealer announces as the ball finds it home settled in the green double zero slot. A round of grumbling moans echoes around the table. No one bets on double zero.
“Well, looks like you’re a winner little Starfish,” Zaxon whispers in my ear and I swear every part of me tingles at his low tone. “You’re welcome to collect your prize whenever you like.”
“And what exactly is my prize?”
“Anything you want sweetness.”
“So, if I said I wanted an uninterrupted day of inspecting—”
“That is not a prize,” Zaxon interrupts as I’m asking to not be interrupted.
“Maybe not to you.”
“My kinda prize involves nudity, and my roof top balcony at night under the stars.”
That sounds like a much better prize than what I came up with. Maybe I should let him choose my prizes from here on out, because apparently, I lack the imagination to pick the best one.
“How about for now we just keep checking the casino.”