5. Easton

Chapter five

Easton

F UCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

I collapse onto the driver's seat and lay my head on the steering wheel as my cock strains against the zipper of my slacks. Slowly, my breathing returns to normal as I close my eyes and try to think of anything else but the scent of that woman.

Pickles–fuck, too phallic…

Dusty libraries–with tables I can lay her down on and spread her legs wide open…

Muddy hiking trails–I can chase her down and then rut into her…

Fuck, none of this is working.

My hands are practically shaking. Luckily, Samuel's number is on speed dial. He picks up right away. I don't give him a chance to even say hello.

"Come get me."

"What's going on?" he says calmly. Though if I know him, he's probably already walking into the weapons room to select some assistance in digging me out of whatever mess I've gotten myself into.

He's good like that.

"I don't know. I met a girl and now I can't–"

Samuel laughs. "Did she poison you? You probably deserved it."

"Fuck, Sam, just come get me."

He sighs. "Fine, fine…but I expect to hear the whole story. Every fucking detail."

He hangs up, and I close my eyes for a moment before looking back up at the shop.

It's not even two, but from where I'm parked, I see the lights go off in the building. The woman walks out, then slowly and carefully squeezes her giant belly into a little Toyota, before slowly pulling away from the curb.

The sight of her brings it all back. It's as if her scent reaches across the road, through my car windows, and surrounds me.

MINE.

MINE.

MINE.

MINE.

MINE.

MINE. The word echoes on repeat inside my head. I'm being pulled like a dog on a leash.

I slam a frustrated hand against the steering wheel. I've been down this road before, but never this bad. Anger wells up inside me at the lack of control I now have, but it's like watching my body move from the passenger seat. The pull of this woman is just too strong. I push the button to start the car and pull in behind her, following this woman–my mate–home.