Page 23 of Moth to a Flame

Pick them up, put them in my pocket, return them to her when she wakes up like a normal person handing back a normal object that fell out of some normal pants. The adult response.

I crouched. I picked them up between my thumb and forefinger like they were as poisonous as the flowers in her greenhouse. The lace was soft, which I did not think about. I folded them once and tucked them into my pocket. I’d give them back to her…or toss them into the laundry downstairs before she woke up.

I opened my door as quietly as I could and snuck past her room. At the stairs, the bond pulled painfully again, but I ran down and ducked back into the kitchen before it felt like someone was sticking a hot poker into my side. Unfortunately, it seemed the laundry room was out of range for now. The light fabric in my pocket weighed heavily on my mind, but my stomach also growled, so I decided to stay put in the in-bounds kitchen.

My senses were immediately assaulted by dried plants.

They were everywhere.

Every cabinet I opened was stuffed with either wrapped bundles or jars packed with, you guessed it, plants. After looking through what felt like every single one, I came across a cabinet near the refrigerator that held mostly boxes of crackers, dry pasta, and instant ramen. Not exactly breakfast-worthy.

I closed the cupboard and opened the fridge. She had to have something in there.

The little light clicked on, and I couldn’t help but laugh at what I saw. This woman clearly took girl dinner to be a lifestyle choice. Her fridge was basically all Coke Zero, cheese, and butter. A little digging revealed some expired tofu and a few sad pieces of fruit. I took out an overly soft plum and bit into it, the sickly-sweet juice dripping down my chin.

Good, but not enough.

I kept searching.

I was rummaging through a low cabinet when a flare of heat shot through my stomach.

No—not my stomach.

I spun around to find Lucia staring down at me.

“I guess that shirt was a little too small for you…”

Her eyes were locked on the sliver of skin between the top of the sweatpants and the too-short shirt she had given me. The hunger in her eyes was enough to get my blood pumping, but being on my knees as she looked down at me had me shifting to hide my now half-hard cock.

The bond only made it worse. The desire wasn’t just in her eyes. It snaked down into her stomach and then through the bond to me.

It also didn’t help that she was in a pair of tiny shorts that showed off her soft thighs and a tank top—which she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra beneath. Okay, my cock was a little more than half-hard now, especially as I watched her nipples tighten under the thin fabric, and the magic between us was practically on fire. It took very little imagination to picture her in the scrap of fabric still hidden in my pocket.

It was just like last night when she’d touched my face, but now there wasn’t a nice old lady present to douse the heat. It was just me, kneeling in front of her, my antennae going haywire as they picked up her scent in the air. It had me picturing looking up at her like this in a very different context.

Could you blame me? I’d been alone on the road for a very long time—that or surrounded by six brothers whose cryptid nature led to various levels of hygiene. Compared to that she was a goddess, and something told me if I was good enough, she’d glow for me again just like in the greenhouse. I wanted to grab one of those creamy thighs, pull it over my shoulder, and⁠—

“Sorry!”

She squeaked and ran out of the kitchen like a cat-bat out of hell.

I stood slowly, trying to tuck my hard-on into the waistband of my boxers, when I heard a very judgmental meow.

Mugen was sitting on the counter, staring right at me and smirking in a way an animal shouldn’t be able to.

“Don’t judge me, dude.”

He flapped his wings, hovering closer to me and rubbing his face against my arm.

“Yeah, yeah. We friends now? You going to stop attacking my antennae?”

A responding meow that definitely wasn’t a yes.

He half leapt, half flew to the top of the fridge and toyed with the cabinet door next to it. The door smacked shut again, held closed with a child lock of some kind.

I struggled with it longer than I wanted to admit but finally opened it to find a container of cat treats.

“Oh, I see. Think I’m a sucker, huh?” As I peered farther into the cabinet, though, I noticed it also contained tins labeled “tea,” and my eyes immediately focused on a few jars of gorgeous, golden honey. I glanced back at the dark creature, and he cocked his head.