6. Talon
TALON
I couldn’t stop thinking about Wren all day. His pretty eyes. His laugh.
After arriving at the shop to him just smiling with Wick, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I mean, who could? He dazzles.
Then his abs on display? It’s too much.
I rush home because I need to be in my animal form. My griffin roars to be let out. Mostly because he thinks I’m keeping him repressed, and he’s right.
As soon as I walked through my door, kick off my shoes.
I rip my clothes off and stomp through the house, naked, to get to the back door.
I stop before heading outside again. It’s still as humid as a wet blanket and I need to drink some water before I let my griffin take over.
As soon as I have a few mouthfuls in me, I head out. I don’t even bother locking up.
My griffin demands attention, and I run to the open field behind my house. It’s my safe place. The one place where I’m the one in charge.
The animals in the woods can tell I’m in a mood. They’re loud as I run. I drop to my knees and shift.
It’s always the lion that comes out first, my paws stamping the ground while I wait for my head to shift to my eagle face.
My wings come last, but they’re my favorite.
They snap open, and my lion tail whips in the air.
The wind ruffles the feathers on my head and I lift my face to the sky.
The humidity isn’t so bad when I’m a griffin.
Or maybe I just tolerate it better this way.
I screech out the loudest sound I can muster, needing to let go of all my frustrations. Too bad I’ve done this to myself.
I stalk to the middle of the field before taking flight. I know I should have alerted the council before doing so, but I need to fly. Hex is hidden behind the protective wards, so I shouldn’t be seen unless something’s wrong with the wards, hopefully all’s well.
It doesn’t take long for my animal to settle.
I probably kept him inside too long, but I like having control.
When I’m spiraling, he’s usually more calm.
I should probably trust him more, but it’s always complicated to shift when I’m spiraling because then I can’t separate my thoughts from my griffin thoughts.
While my griffin and I are on good terms, and I do have control, sometimes it’s hard not to just let the animal take over.
And my goodness, I want the animal to take over sometimes, just so I don’t have to think.
Maybe I’ll take up meditation. That’d probably be helpful.
But I stop myself from trying new things because new things mean not knowing how to do something, and I hate not knowing how to do something.
Which is also another reason why I don’t talk to people.
I really do need to learn how to not be so standoffish.
It gives off the wrong impression. I want friends, but I don’t trust myself.
I don’t trust people not to have an ulterior motive.
I know the reason I feel that way is because of how I was treated in the past in the Fae lands, but I haven’t lived in the Fae realm for well over a decade.
I don’t know what my hang up is. Maybe I should make a list of ways to improve myself.
Yes. That’s a good idea. I also know this is my griffin coming up with the idea of self-improvement.
He always wants to do things opposite of what I want, and I usually suppress him.
I want to sit at home and read, but he wants to socialize. Absolutely not.
I fly around to my heart’s content, going high above the trees. Kids getting out of school point at me and I don’t find their attention irritating like a certain Fae’s attention.
Damn it, I just need to let my guard down for once and talk to him. Extend friendly words. I’ve never done anything like that the entire time I’ve been in Hex. People would think I had a brain exchange with someone that’s outgoing.
I chuckle to myself. Wouldn’t that be something?
The sun starts to set and I just play on the air, watching the clouds slowly change colors until the sky goes dark.
It’s time to go home and wind down for the night.
Hopefully, dreams of Wren won’t dance in my head.
I don’t need my mind on the pretty Fae. I just need him to stay on his side of the bakery and everything will be just fine.
After a quick dinner, I settle into my favorite reading chair in my second bedroom and try to read the next installment of my favorite fantasy novels.
Unfortunately, every time I come across a Fae character in this book, all I can think of is Wren.
His grin and his pretty green eyes and his bright smile and his magical laugh and those fucking abs.
I never thought about the saying of washboard abs as a thing until I saw his this afternoon. They are glorious and I want to run my fingers up and down them just to feel him tremble under my touch.
What is wrong with me?
I slam my book shut and toss it on the coffee table. Well, that’s ruined. At least until I get myself under control.
Maybe a quick release will help, and I need a shower, anyway. Might as well kill two birds and all that. Grumbling to myself, I push to my feet and strip on my way to the bathroom.
Funny enough, I prefer to be naked at all times, but polite society and all that requires me to wear clothes. My brain says that absolutely no nudity outside of my house or when I’m shifting. No one wants to see me naked.
I start the water and wait until it steams before stepping into the shower. My inner griffin always loves the heat. Honestly, I like the way it feels, too. While outside, it’s nasty humidity, but inside with my hot lava shower, I’m happy and content.
I scrub shampoo through my hair and special beard shampoo through my beard because I want my beard to look good if I’m taking the time to trim it and make it acceptable.
I use face wash and exfoliate as well, then scrub off whatever grime has gotten on my skin throughout the day.
Sometimes flour gets matted into my arm hair, and that’s just not a good look.
The longer I’m in the shower, the more I think of Wren, and my cock takes notice. I can’t ignore it. I rinse the soap from my body and put conditioner in my hair, because I do love soft hair.
I stroke from chest to happy trail and just tug at my pubic hair at the base of my dick. Just teasing myself.
What would Wren do if he had me naked?
I don’t know why I ask myself the question. It’s inappropriate. He’s my co-worker, and I shouldn’t think of him in a sexual way. But every time I close my eyes, I see a flash of his smile, and in my head, he flirts with me.
If I really think about it, it’s not at all like the Fae that used to flirt with me in the Fae lands when I was younger.
It’s much more charming, and it feels authentic instead of joking because there’s a difference.
I stroke my cock. Once. Twice. Until I force myself to stop thinking about the Fae.
It’s just wrong. He thinks I hate him. I don’t, but I can’t let him know I’m interested because no one’s ever actually interested in me if the past is to be believed.
I growl at the empty bathroom and tip my head back under the stream to rinse out the conditioner. I can’t bring myself to touch myself anymore at the thought of Wren, because I just can’t. It’s wrong, inappropriate. I just can’t.
I wrap my towel around me and turn off the water. In that order because I get so flustered. I dry off enough so that I’m not dripping everywhere as I wallow on my way back to my bedroom.
Why can’t I just be normal and talk to him? Or anyone?