Page 12 of Love is Trash in Hallow's Cove

“Totally understand. Thanks again for dinner. I hope you find someone to, uh, feed from. Have a good night!” My words come out in a rush as I open the door and step out into the night air.

They seem to know better than to argue, giving me a gentle wave. “Goodnight, Hayley.”

My mind replays my dinner date and subsequent embarrassment at misreading their interest the entire walk back to the bodega. Now that I know what Tryzx was looking for, a lot of their comments and behavior that I chalked up to a cultural difference make more sense. By the time I’m climbing the stairs to my aunts’ apartment, I’ve accepted my reality.

I’m not going to find anyone in Hallow’s Cove. I’m not going to get any monster action, either.

I want it too much.

Aunt Betsy found love when she wasn’t looking for it, and I’m beginning to think that’s the key. She wasn’t trying to be someone other than herself. She wasn’t stuffed in her tightest dress and putting on a flirty persona meant to attract a partner. She was just living her life, existing as her authentic self, and that’s when love found her.

God dammit. I hate it. I don’t want to wait around for love until I’m almost sixty. Aunt Betsy is a badass and seemed happy on her own, but that’s not the life I want. Iwant a family to share every up and down that life brings my way.

After giving a TED talk to myself in the shower about how I need to stop pushing so hard and focus on having fun while I’m here for the next four months, I get ready for bed even though it’s only a little past nine.

Sleep doesn’t come, though, despite feeling drained by emotions. There’s a dull curl of arousal in my belly that hasn’t fully gone away since my almost hookup with Tryzx. Must be an after effect of being touched by a lust demon.

I almost chastise myself for not embracing the moment and having wild sex with the demon, but I stop before I go too far down that mental path. I shouldn’t be so down on myself five minutes after resigning to be authentic. I am who I am, and that person is someone who doesn’t want casual sex.

Though, that doesn’t mean that person isn’t horny.

I shove off the covers and head to the closet, where I keep my mostly unpacked suitcase, digging around in the inner pocket for my vibrator. I couldn’t bring myself to put it in my aunts’ nightstand alongside where they keep the collection of toys they didn’t bring with them on their trip. Once again, I wish they had a guest room I could stay in, because masturbating in the bed they sleep in is a little unappealing.

I almost change my mind, but it’s been a few weeks since I touched myself and I need to get over that hangup since I’m not hooking up with anyone any time soon.

I slip back into bed, and tug my sleep shorts down off my hips and let my legs fall open. I close my eyes, pretending that I’m somewhere else as I switch on the wand to the lowest setting and it rumbles to life. I’ve used this toy so many times that I think I’ve conditioned myself to get more aroused from that sound alone, and I sigh as I bring it between my thighs.

I let my mind drift, trying to land on a mental scene that will get me off. I could watch porn, but often the scenarios I come up with in my head do a better job of turning me on than seeing some big dicked beefcake plow into a woman while she pretends to moan.

At first, I imagine that I’m putting on a show for some dommy woman as she tells me I’m not allowed to come. It makes my pussy clench, but after a minute, I can tell it’s not going to work. I need something different.

As if it was just waiting for an invitation, Jake’s face flashes across my mind. My clit throbs and pleasure intensifies as I remember him looking up at me from the floor and that moment where he smiled at me. Then, when he said he’d do anything I needed. It’s weird, because the guy clearly doesn’t like me. If our interaction at his shop, and the bizarre moment where he threw his muffins on the floor while staring at me weren’t bad enough, I’ve caught him multiple times in the past week hiding from me when he notices me nearby.

God, he’s so strange. But I guess so am I, because thinking about Jake is making me hot. Between imagining all of his bulk pressing me into the bed, and the gold flashof his eyes when he looked at me intensely, I’m on the verge of coming.

I wonder if he’d get so into things that he wouldn’t be able to control himself. I wonder if he’d shift into his hybrid form—whatever that might be—and sink his teeth into me as his cock grew larger inside me until it became almost too much of a stretch to handle.

I turn my vibrator up to the higher setting, letting out a soft moan as I imagine it’s his tongue between my thighs. Fuck, I’m really close. I’m going to come.

My body tenses for an amazing orgasm and…

The vibrator dies.

“No!” I groan, flicking the switch a few times in a feeble attempt to get it to turn back on.

Dammit!

I dig out the charger, but when I plug it in, the little flashing charging light doesn’t come on. I move around the apartment, still pantsless, trying to find an outlet that will magically make it work. But after three attempts and a lot of cord wiggling, it’s clear it’s busted.

All my calm resignation from earlier vanishes, and I let out an angry shout, tossing the vibrator and charger on the couch. I tug on my shorts, then pick up the offending objects and storm downstairs and back into the alley to throw away something that was supposed to make me feel good for the second time in a week.

“Fucking piece of shit,” I grumble as the wand and charger collide against the side of the dumpster as I hurl it inside. The loud clang makes me wince, and I hurryback inside before anyone comes out to ask what the hell I’m doing.

Feeling defeated, I go back upstairs and stare at the ceiling, replaying my shitty day in my head until I finally pass out.

Chapter six

Jake

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