Nodding, his mouth goes back to mine, kissing me feverishly as he grabs my shorts to tug them down.
I help him, then work at the button on his jeans. He kicks them off, lifting my leg, and sliding his hard length through my pussy lips.
He groans, doing it again.
I reach between us to guide him inside me, and he slides right in. We moan together, and I find his mouth again,while he thrusts into me slowly, his fingers digging into my thigh, holding me in place.
“You feel so good,” he says.
“So do you,” I add. “Go faster.”
He moves faster, his mouth going to my neck and nipping at my jaw.
“Oh my—Gus, that feels so good. I think I’m going to—”
I don’t get the word out before the orgasm hits me. It’s intense, and I feel it through my entire body, a swirl of warmth settling in my chest. I hear Gus moaning out his release too, riding out his pleasure.
His forehead rests against mine as we catch our breath together, sweat covering our skin. The windows are open, but it’s so hot that it does nothing to help.
After a moment, I say, “You can sleep in my bed with me, if you want?”
Gus smiles and kisses the tip of my nose. “I would love that.”
Chapter Twelve
Wade
Theskyisbrightwith stars, the only light for miles. It’s the way I like it. I prefer when it’s dark, when it’s quiet, when no one is bothering me. When the world is asleep, I can lie here and be peaceful.
Only it isn’t exactly peaceful because laughter is coming from inside the house. Daisy’s cheery laugh floats through the open windows, and Gus’s follows. Dinner was good, but not enough to make me want to stay after.
I’m happy he’s enjoying himself, I guess. Really, I think he’s being stupid. There’s no point being friendly with this girl when her family is the one who did this to us. She’s as guilty as Agnes is. She says she didn’t know about the curse, but how can that be true? We saw her here all thetime. She, like us, wasn’t born when the curse happened, but she was around enough to know something.
And it’s the same thing with that safe. Gus tells me he’s certain she’s trying to help get it open… but why doesn’t she know the code? Wouldn’t Agnes have left it for her? My grandfather left all sorts of things for my father for when he passed, this way he was prepared for his passing.
See, this curse is a mess. I don’t know what happened and where it went wrong, or if it’s supposed to be this way, but it’s only been us three stuck here on the farm.
Our grandfathers and fathers were fine to roam around and do as they pleased. Maybe it was done on purpose so the town wouldn’t notice something wrong? They didn’t get stuck here on the farm like we are. We are the ones who have suffered the most, and it’s why I’m so angry all the time. We didn’t do a damn thing yet we’re paying the harshest price.
It isn’t fair.
Rhett is already in the coop, probably working on laying his egg. It hurts like a bitch, but we don’t really have a choice in the matter. It just happens. Every damn day. Well,most days… when I’m in an especially foul mood, they don’t come, and I have a massive stomach ache all day until the damn thing finally pops out of me.
I shift, resting my arms behind my head as the horses move around in their stalls. I swear those things never sleep, and sometimes I wonder if they’re people too.
When we’re in chicken form, we can’t communicate with each other outside of looks or nodding and shaking our heads. It’s a pain in the ass, but it’s easier to be in chicken form.
Human form drains us. Makes us tired. And eventually, we shift back automatically. Some days we can’t handle a full eight hours of human form. Other days it isn’t so bad. And the closer we get to the property line, the harder it is to stay human.
“I’m going to take whatever good I can get.”
It’s those words that keep replaying in my head. Don’t know why since I don’t agree with it. What’s the point in enjoying something if you know it’s going to go away? If you know it’s going to end, why bother? You’re only goingto miss it when it’s gone. It’s only going to hurt more later on.
Though, that mealwasreally good—which is exactly the problem.
The meal was good, and now I’m thinking about it. I could go back in there and have another—but one day I won’t have that choice. And who the hell even knows what’s going to happen to us since she’s selling the farm, according to Rhett. What’s going to happen when someone buys the place and realizes it comes with chickens they can’t get rid of? What then? They going to kill us and eat us for dinner? That’s what I would do.
This is all so ridiculous.
