Lust and Other Drugs by T.J. Nichols - Mytho 1

Author:T.J. Nichols - Mytho 1 [1, T.J. Nichols - Mytho]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

EDRA FLOPPED onto his bed and it creaked beneath him. Somewhere in the apartment block, someone was listening to music that really needed to be turned down. Above him someone was having sex---the rhythmic grunting was a giveaway. He closed his eyes and pulled his pillow over his head. The sounds became more muffled but didn't go away.

Maybe he should've just let Jordan kiss him.

That would've been weird. He barely knew the man, but knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't mind getting him out of his clothes and checking out his slinky underwear. But he wasn't going to lick just anyone's mouth. That was something that was saved until later. Humans kissed first. He checked his phone again.

Jordan hadn't replied to his text, so he'd probably incinerated that idea.

For a brief moment, he considered taking the Bliss himself. While red wasn't his favorite kind, it would do. He could lie here and be swept away on a tide of pleasure---except he didn't like getting swept away, and there wasn't enough Bliss in the bag to even nudge him toward pleasure. He liked being involved or watching others succumb.

Jordan probably didn't trust him to just watch.

He was a mytho... little more than an animal to most humans. That he could shift into an animal didn't work in his favor.

Yet it was Jordan who stepped close. It was Jordan who wanted the kiss.

Edra swallowed. Nope, he couldn't even imagine kissing him... not yet anyway. He shoved his hand into his pocket and ran his fingers over the plastic bag of Bliss. But he couldn't even be bothered getting himself off to erase the tension and unsated lust.

Great. Now he was broken.

The noise above him stopped, but music still filtered through the walls. He really needed to find somewhere nicer to live, but he needed a better job for that, and mythos didn't get better jobs. They were supposed to be grateful to have any job.

He curled up like a dead bug, missing what had been home. He'd had a house, a partner. Everything.

He should be grateful he'd survived with few side effects and that he passed, so he had an easier time among the humans. But no gratitude bubbled up. He had nothing and no one.

Would one kiss have been such a price to pay?

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