Page 93
“Oh.” She seemed pleased by my answer, beaming at me. “So, what do you say?”
“Uh… I… sure,” I said distractedly, not really knowing what I’d just agreed to.
“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands, looking beyond excited, which made me a little nervous. “I really do think you’ll get along fabulously, and I would just love to see you settled down and happy, Daniel. Lucifer knows you’ve kept an old succubus well-fed over the years with all that”—she coughed delicately—“energy coming from your house, but I do think it’s time, dear. And I’m sure your mother would just love to get all dolled up for a wedding…?”
I paled, taking a reflexive step back. I wasn’t sure which part was making me feel more nauseated—the mention of marriage, or the fact that the sweet little old lady from across the street had just informed me that she’d been feeding on my residual sex energy all this time.
No, I was sure. It was definitely the former.
“I should probably go get ready for work.” I flashed her a brief smile as I backed away. “Got a show tonight.”
“Alright, dear. Good luck in your show!” she called after me as I turned and walked quickly back to my house.
Once inside, I stopped and looked around blankly, breathing kind of hard. That uncomfortable feeling was still crawling through my gut, and I didn’t fucking like it. I was really pissed off and I didn’t know why.
With a huff, I slammed the two cups down on the coffee table and stomped over to the window that faced Rafe’s house. Frowning, I peered through the slats of the blind, trying to see into his living room. There was no one in there. Probably because he was still upstairs. Having passionate sex with donkey dick guy.
Well, fine. Fine then. That was fine. I didn’t even care.
I shoved open the window just in case I’d be able to hear anything better from here, but it was quiet next door once again. My mouth flattened into a grim line.
Just as I stepped back, I heard another shout come from his house and stiffened instantly.
“Just get the fuck off me!”
Okay, no, fuck this. Something was definitely wrong. He sounded distressed.
Those weren’t sex noises. Mrs. Tupper had been wrong. Or lying. Now I was angry at myself for letting her convince me they were, just because she’d wanted to keep me out there to try and set me up with her damn granddaughter for the millionth time. There was no other car on Rafe’s drive, and of course he wouldn’t be having sex with the billy goat creep he and his friend had laughed about. I didn’t even know why that had popped into my head.
Had someone broken into his house? Were they trying to rob him and he’d woken up and caught them?
Turning, I ran for the door, but skidded to a halt when I noticed the key sitting on the edge of my TV stand. I’d forgotten to return his spare key after using it to lock up when I put his drunk ass to bed.
Snatching it up, I ran into the hall and grabbed the baseball bat from the closet, then sprinted out of the house and across my yard. My heart was pounding as I tripped on the steps of his front porch, but a second later I was jamming the key into the lock.
“Rafe!” I bellowed as I burst into his house, baseball bat poised and ready to beat the shit out of whoever was hurting him.
I came to an abrupt halt when, instead, through the door to the kitchen, I saw Rafe alone. Naked. Squatting. His balls dangling directly over a bowl of bright red sauce on the ground.
And a pumpkin jutting out between his hips.
All the fight drained from me, replaced by utter shock as I slowly lowered the baseball bat and stared at him in disbelief.
Not even disbelief. I just couldn’t quite process what I was seeing.
Rafe gazed up at me, his face flushed and damp with sweat, expression one of abject misery. He looked close to tears.
“There’s a pumpkin stuck on my dick,” he croaked.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Doctor Otticker Sexlie Richard-Regina Customer Service
Dan
“I can… see that,” I slowly said.
After a few seconds of silence, I propped the baseball bat up against the console table in the hall, seeing as there was apparently no danger to Rafe except, evidently, himself. Clearing my throat, I took a hesitant step closer.
