Page 40 of Lessons with the Mothman

My lips quirked and I ducked my head, staring at the gold pelted fingers wrapped around my wrists. "Both, but I don't think he's punishing me through the study or anything like that."

Elias nodded slowly. "Your work is too good to be impeded."

Don't swoon, Victoria, I warned myself. "What are we going to do next?" I asked, my voice embarrassingly breathy.

"Bar, library," Elias said, pointing at us each in turn.

"You know what I meant," I said, and my breath caught as our hips brushed. When had we stepped so close to one another?

Elias's wings flared out at his back, and I imagined he was shielding us from view. "You'll see," he said. My lips pursed in irritation—categoricallynota pout—and Elias's grip on my wrist suddenly tightened, snapping me against his chest, his soft fur collar and hair so smooth against my cheek as he hissed in my ear, "Don't look at me like that, or I'll put you over my knee right here and show everyone what a cock hungry little whore you are."

I staggered, gasping for air as he released me, his stride smooth and long, carrying himself away too fast for me to go crawling after him, begging him to follow through on the threat. "Email me," he shot over his shoulder.

How doesThursday the 5thsuit your schedule for our next meeting?

- Vic

I've beenhard since I emptied into you. I need a better offer than next week.

- E

"Okay, who the hell are you fucking?"

I startled, my head jerking up from my phone to gape at Lyle across the table from me. "No one— What?"

Lyle's eyebrows rose. "I've known you for years. You've never been this horny. Not even when I was inside of you."

"Lyle," I hissed, searching around the library, but everyone was deep in the stacks and he hadn't spoken very loudly.

Lyle smirked. "Is it one of your interview subjects?"

I sighed, shaking my head as I lowered it down into the crease of the book I'd been failing to focus on ever since opening Elias's email. "No. Why? There isn't— Are people talking?"

"No! No, no, nothing like that," Lyle said, gentling his tone to reassure me. "I just think other species are better in bed than humans and figured you were reaping the benefits."

I looked up from my book. "Why do you say that? Or think that? Can you?—"

Lyle lifted his chin and stared down his nose at me. "I'm not participating in your study. It's not…" He mouthed the name, "Stanton?"

"God no," I huffed, falling back into my chair. "You know this isn't any of your business, right?"

"Did you meet someone at Nightlight?" Lyle asked, head tipping.

I laughed. "Lyle, no, st?—"

But it was too late. Lyle's lips parted in shock and he leaned forward, slapping his hands to the table and catching the attention of a few students browsing the shelves.

"It'shim," Lyle breathed.

And even though that was too vague a statement to really confirm or deny, I flushed warm. I'd given something away as Lyle had said "Nightlight," probably. Not in my face, but some flicker of arousal at the mention of Elias's bar, the thought of him.

We were both silent for a long stretch, staring at one another, my eyes narrowed in warning, Lyle's wide in some kind of surprise or fascination or delight.

"I'm going to ask this, and I want you to remember that it's me, not your family or Brett or any of those types, and that there's no judgment?—"

"Lyle, you're pushing it," I said flatly.

"Did you pay?" he whispered, leaning in close.

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