“If I do something embarrassing at this party, this is me apologizing in advance.” She bites her lip as we make our way to the gondola.
“What on earth could you possibly do that would embarrass me?”
I’m going to kill Briarlee.
I leave Daphne alone with her for all of fifteen minutes to help Brooks jump his truck, and when I get back, she’s blasted off her ass on fairy wine. Briarlee knows she’s in trouble when she sees the look on my face as she pushes the cup against Daphne’s lips up high, encouraging her to drink every last drop.
“Hi boss man!” Her face splits into that manic little smile of hers. “Daphne is just doing a little tasting of my special batch.” She winks at me, as if I’m in on something. “By the way, did I tell you that I love what those pants are doing for you?” Briarlee giggles as she floats up just out of my grasp.
“Fairy wine? We’re trying to have a nice night, not have a meetup at the fucking moon.” I grab Daphne’s hand and pull her close.
“Did you even tell her what she was drinking?” I sigh, realizing that maybe I’m coming off as a little controlling. If Daphne wanted to get absolutely blasted, that’s her prerogative. I don’t get an answer as that little fairy asshole zips out of Killy’sand into the night.
So many of human’s misconceptions about monsters aren’t true, but fairies meddling in human affairs obviously is the one exception.
“Did she tell me what?” My date hiccups and leans against me. “I think this wine is really strong?” She has a moment of clarity before her eyes glaze over again. Her fingers pull on the fur near my hips as she steadies herself. “Hey, even with that hack job of a haircut, you’re really handsome, okay?”
Even though I can feel my heart flutter at the compliment, I’m worried about what the rest of the date will hold. Fairy wine, when consumed by non-fae folk, has a wide range of efficacy. Chances are, given how small Daphne is, we’re in for a long night.
“Daphne,” I mutter, pulling her into one of the worn leather booths. “You might feel a little strange soon, but I want you toknow that whatever happens, I’ve got you, okay?” I stroke the back of my hand down her face and she…licks me. I think my heart stops.
“Okay.” She smiles so innocently.
“Let’s get you a water,” I say after a deep breath. “Stay here.”
My very inebriated date just giggles, leans back against the booth, and throws her head back with a sigh. I’m mad at myself for thinking about how sexy the move is as I stomp over to the bar.
“Hey Harley, can I get a water…and do you do coffee? Maybe a coffee would be good.” I throw a few bucks up on the counter in a show of good faith.
“Water I can do, but if you want coffee, you’re gonna have to make your way down to Ted’s—I’m not making any fucking coffee,” she grumbles.
“I mean, yes, that’s fair—I’m just asking because Briarlee got my human date fairy-wine drunk.” I lean against the bar, trying to keep an eye on my swaying human.
“Briarlee was in here?” She looks up from the water she’s filling in her hand and seems absolutely pissed.
“Yeah, you didn’t see her flying around your own bar?”
“That fairy asshole must have used glamour magic on me after I banned her for the season!” The gorgon points behind me to a polaroid of the pot-stirrer flipping the bird.
She passes me the plastic cup of ice water and leans over the bar. “If you see her in here again, let a monster know, won’t you?”
“You’ve got it, she’s on my shit list too,” I say before spinning back around. There’s a small group of young human women, obviously tourists, behind me in line for the bar. Their eyes go wide, and one whispers in her friend’s ear, and they both break out laughing.
“Nice pants,” one says before pushing past me to get Harley her drink order.
I shake my head back and forth, confused about all the commotion about the damn sweatpants.
When I get back to the booth, I hand Daphne her water, and given how much she’s leaning, decide it might be better to sit next to her rather than across from her.
“That’s the last time I wear these damn pants. I don’t understand the big deal about me trying something new,” I tell her, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I mean, I like them, what can I say?” She looks to her left and right, and leans in close. “And remember when you told me you wore pants so that no one would see your dick?” She raises an eyebrow and looks down. “Gray sweatpants aren’t really gonna effectively hide your thunder.”
That’s when her hand trails up my knee to my inner thigh. The world stops spinning in that second, and I can barely stop her before she grabs my cock through my pants and gives it a squeeze.
I, a full-grown snowman, shoot my load right then and there. I even fucking groan and shudder as I do.
Luckily for me, right at that exact moment someone puts “Come On Eileen” on the jukebox. Everyone else is singing aboutyou in that dressand not the cum stains that I’m sure are evident now on my jersey pants. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that I taste the iron in my blood. Using every last bit of willpower I have left, I take her hand gently off my manhood and back onto her own lap.
