More Than a Hotline Fling

-31-

Damian's POV

The morning after I teased three more orgasms out of June and ignited a second one in me, I woke up groggy with no idea what the time was. A parking cone erection lodged in my underwear, and I laid in an empty bed. Sweet humming mixed with soft swishes and running water from the kitchen alerted me to June's presence. Rolling over, Bullet's crate was empty but familiar whines from the kitchen gave away his location.

Sitting on June's feet and begging for food.

My eyes half-closed, I dragged my feet over to the bathroom. The emotional weight of my conversation with June about the blackmail pictures lingered heavier in my mind as our case progressed at a snail's pace.

"Fuck! Bullet, get off my feet!" rang out from the kitchen, followed by a clang of a dropped utensil.

I chuckled, but my amusement was short-lived.

The bathroom floor tiles chilled the soles of my feet. I grumbled inaudibly as I relieved myself, then turned on the shower. The same chill numbing my feet bit into my ass cheeks when they hit the bench. In the all-white space I used to relax and collect my morning thoughts, I closed my eyes and sighed.

Under the soft water sprays from the shower, a quiet hiss broke out.

Wait, hiss?

Clearly, I imagined that. Blurry white walls and morning incoherence worked against me. I blinked.

A second, "Sssss" sounded on my left.

Time slowed as my eyes dropped in its direction, to a wound-up coil of slicked, iridescent black scales. Giant, bulging, white and black, beady cat eyes glinted at me.

Oh no. No, no, fuck no!

My heart stopped in my chest, flatlining as every shower drop pinpricked me. Breathing and blinking took a back seat. Every muscle locked into stillness and the damp air gripped my skin. In a whoosh of panic, part of my soul slipped out.

Now I know what an exorcism feels like.

Or I just shit myself.

"Fuck!"

The second tongue flick did me in, shooting my ass off the bench. With a sharp smack, I landed on the floor. Pushing my heels in cycling movements, my shower was too, too fucking small. My legs stayed bent with my back to the glass wall.

"June!"

The hairs on the back of my neck and forearms raised with goosebumps as the black snake's eyes tracked my scuttling movements with slight head shifts. Hot steam swirled between us but my skin chilled, ten degrees cooler with each tongue flick in my direction.

It tasted my fear.

"June!"

Soft toenails and footsteps rushed into the bathroom and the door flung open with a bang. Bullet entered first, stopped in the doorway, and tilted his head.

So much for man's best friend.

My feet shot out and I pushed my ass into the corner farthest away. "Not helpful!"

I curled myself into the smallest space that my frame occupied, shifting the glass wall under my weight. Water splashed off my ankles as the snake drew back into its own corner, winding into a tighter coil.

Oh, fuck. It's going to strike and I'm going to die, naked, in my own damn shower.

"Damian?" June's giggles barely registered under the pounding beats in my ears, let alone being processed by my fear-gripped brain. "Why are you showering with Ella?"