Bite Me! - You Know I Like It (Spooky Boys #1)

by Fae Quin

Right now, my body composition was almost eighty percent righteous indignation.

I was a five-foot-nothing ball of rage. I ran on plant fuel and sarcasm—even dragging a thousand-pound chain of trauma behind me, I still only weighed about five pounds soaking wet.

I’d been touched by unfriendly hands so often it was always my first thought.

Not that I was really much of a goth anyway, other than my obsession with all things fanged and furry and my tendency to wear weirdly erotic Dracula themed items of clothing. They were campy. I liked it.

Looking at Blair Evans was like staring into the sun. Too long, and I was sure he would blind me.

Blair was a hurricane, a storm, a natural disaster. Beautiful and world-shattering, with the power to rewrite the future and repaint the past.

Despite everything, Jeffrey was a good brother.

Maybe somewhere, far, far away, another me had died. But I hadn’t. And I was going to fucking live, no matter what it took.

Something bad had happened there. I could feel it in my very bones.

God, I probably should hold a grudge. I should hate Blair on principle for what his mother did to my family. I should loathe him.

Elmwood had a variety of residents, but werewolves tended to cause the most trouble. I knew them all by name.

I’d never had something that was just mine before.

“You’re a fucking badass. Even though you look a bit like a wet rat right now and people say black cats are kinda unlucky. That’s okay. I’m kinda unlucky too.”

He was so fucking pretty I wanted to crush him like a petal between my fingers. What the fuck. What the fuck, Richard?

I needed to get the fuck out of here before he noticed me. If he caught me off guard like this I was bound to do something stupid. Like yell at him—or ask politely to sit on his dick, which would lead to some rather awkward shifts at the diner.

God played favorites, and Richard was clearly loved.

hated a lot of things. But I hated myself most of all

There was no way with hands and feet like his that riding his dick would be anything other than a religious experience. Praise be, Richard and his monster cock.

I’d read an article once on Apple News that talked about a lady who’d married a roller coaster. Maybe I could marry a pair of boots? Boots would make a better husband than a roller coaster.

Angsting could wait until there were no cute boys to ogle.

In a way, his resting bitch face was starting to become comforting to me.

I couldn’t tell if I was offended or relieved.

God, Richard better not sparkle like Edward fucking Cullen or I was going to have to do something drastic. Like burn the city down.

Did I want to be Richard’s chew toy? Fuck yes.

Richard was a cocoa wielding, flannel wearing, sex machine who may or may not be undead.

Richard smiling was—god—it was the most beautiful thing in the world. I was soooo fucked.

God, was it fucked up that I wanted him to spoil me more? I wanted him to watch me, to give me all his attention.

Richard gave me hope, and hope was a dangerous, dangerous thing for a person like me to have.

It was a Russian roulette of fuckery.

Death by sexual frustration. What a way to go.

Either something was seriously wrong with me, or I was in love with Blair Evans.

Rejection tasted like hot cocoa, pine trees, and spring rain. For the first time in my life, the night’s familiarity was a prison and not a comfort. And I trembled with the realization that the loneliness I’d felt before coming to Elmwood would be nothing compared to the loneliness I felt when I left

Maybe I should’ve been more freaked out that he clearly wanted to suck my blood. But hey. I was actually pretty fucking flattered.

“God, Rich. You could kill me and I’d say ‘Thank you.’”

What a lame-o. I loved him.

Call the kissing police because someone had clearly robbed the fucking bank.

“Rich, I’m pretty sure you could quite literally bite my dick off and it would still be the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

I was sure at this point I had to be leaking all over my frowny-face boxers. I didn’t even care. They were frowning anyway, what did they care if they got a little precum on them?

All my life I’d sat in churches’ hallowed halls but I had never felt as spiritual as I did in that moment with his attention on me.

“Can I come on you, sweetheart?” Richard asked, so politely I nearly wanted to laugh.

I just spluttered an awkward apology and side stepped around him like a gay-penguin.

Just looking at his shoulders made me want to climb him like a spider-monkey for real.

We hadn’t known each other long and yet it felt like I’d been waiting my whole life for someone like Richard to come along.

“S’okay, baby. Just be sweet to yourself, okay?”

“You can never really tell if someone’s lost just by looking at them anyway.”