Prophylaxis - 3. Chapter 3

When I was a kid a loved going to the dentist. It's not because I was one of those annoying brats who never got cavities and liked to suck up to adults, either.

It's because our dentist's office was quiet. So, wonderfully quiet.

Maybe quiet isn't the right word.

It was clean. It was at Dr. Blacknam's office that I learned that cleaning works for leftover emotional crud like it works for dirt and bacteria. So, if something is clean it doesn't set off my empathy triggers. If it's disinfected I just get a soothing hum from it. If it's sterilized it's totally, blissfully silent. Going to the dentist was like going to the spa. Also, there was Dr. Blacknam himself. He was a genuinely gentle and kind person without any hidden anxieties eating at him. When he put on his gloves and mask I could hardly sense him at all unless he happened to touch me.

I loved the dentist.

“You did great, hon.” I smiled, handing the pig-tailed girl a sticker.

Little Emma took my hand without prompting, I snagged her chart with the other and let her lead me down the hall toward the waiting-room, her mother following behind us. Emma let me go when she spotted the waiting-room door.

There was the waiting-room door and then a few feet from that was the half-door that led to the receptionist area. The idea was the patient would go out to the waiting room and then go to the front of the receptionist's window. We would go to the half-door and could see the patient through the back of the receptionist's window and hand-off the chart to Maricella and give any final instructions to the patient.

Emma hopped over and knelt next to the door, in front of a fishbowl full of cheap crappy toys. She dug through it with obvious excitement while her mom waited impatiently. The little girl finally decided on a silver plastic ring with a hot-pink flower. I collected my high-five from her and let them to go out to the waiting-room. I went the other direction to the receptionist's side and handed her the child's chart.

“Maricella, we're good for six months.” I said to her.

I peeked around the wall to look into the waiting-room, my patient and her mom were standing in front of Maricella's window.

I gave them a little wave and smiled. “You have a good day! Remember to brush those back ones, Emma! Fight the sugar-bugs!”

Emma gave me an adorable gap-toothed grin and waved bye while her mom smiled indulgently.

“Thanks so much, Doctor, I don't know how you do it.” Emma's mom sighed. “Before we came here she had to be sedated by the pediatric dentist just for her check-up.”

I smiled, “Oh, no, Emma's a good girl. She probably just needed to grow up a little.” I gave them a friendly nod. “Well, have a good one!”

I walked back to my office which was next to the break room. I squirted some hand-sanitizer into my hands and rubbed vigorously.

“Heya, Lori.” I said without turning around.

“Ugh, how do you do that?” My assistant leaned against my door-frame. “I've been here five years and I haven't once been able to sneak up on you, it's creepy.”
I just smirked and gave myself another squirt of hand-sanitizer.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Out, damn spot?”

“Cleanliness, godliness, blah blah blah.” I said and plunked into my chair.

“Anyhoo, your three-o'clock is in room two. Consult. Sounds like thirds. What me to get P.A.s?” She asked, hands in the pockets of her lab coat.

“Sounds good. Thanks, Loralei, I'll be along.” I told her and turned to my computer to double-check the name of the patient. I didn't recognize the name. It was either a new patient or someone the other doctor in the office had seen.

“You got it, boss-man.” She said and turned on her heel, ponytail bouncing as she went.

I felt the subtle buzz in the air as I walked toward room two. I'd felt it often enough to know what it meant. Something a little more than human was in my op chair. Non-humans or humans with a little extra something special didn't always put off the same vibes as regular humans. Sometimes when I was out and about the zing could be painful if I walked past something supernatural. Here in my clean little office with all my disinfectant, as well as a few other tricks I'd learned to settle down my empathy, it was dampened and easy to handle.

Supernatural creatures have dental needs too. They tended to be the same problems as the regular humans. I once gave a root canal to a Wendigo. He gave off creepy vibes but was surprisingly nice.

I never let on that I knew they were anything other than human and I never did anything that I thought would reveal what I was. If they noticed they didn't say anything.

This particular buzz was one I could identify, especially since I'd felt it so intensely a few weeks prior when I'd worked on Chrissy. I knew it was a werewolf, but I didn't expect a werewolf I'd recognize.

I certainly didn't expect Guy to be sitting there, fiddling with the paper napkin hanging under his chin.

“Mick?” His eyes widened when he saw me. “You're a dentist?”

I guess he wasn't expecting to see me either.

I stared at him stupidly for a moment. I think if he hadn't looked so shocked I would have just turned around and walked out. Instead I walked in and did my pretendiest that everything was normal.

“Hi, I'm Nathaniel Miklas. So, you're having some problems with your wisdom teeth....” I paused and looked at his chart then made significan eye contact. “William?”

He blinked and grinned at me. “William is a family name. My grampa is William, my dad is Bill. I go by my middle name, Guy. Does that make sense,” it was his turn for eye contact and raised brows, “Mick?”

I sighed. “Some people call me Mick since my last name is Miklas. Nate or Nathan too.”

“That doesn't explain why you...” He trailed off as Lori bustled in with his x-rays and I held his eyes and put a finger to my lips.

No one in the office knew about my work on the side. I'd rather keep it that way.

Guy definitely needed to have his wisdom teeth extracted. I was a little surpised he hadn't had them out already since two were horizontally impacted and he was twenty-four. They were causing a lot of pressure on the other teeth. Couldn't be comfy.

Lori assisted me with charting and then wandered off to help wash and sterilize instruments. She shut the door behind her.

“I'd suggest seeing an oral surgeon to have your wisdom teeth out. We can make a referral.” I said cheerfully, stripping off my gloves and washing my hands.

Guy groaned. “Agh, not again.”

I patted my hands dry on the paper towels. “Again?” I asked as I removed his napkin, careful not to touch him.

He looked at the closed door and then spoke quietly. “Because of... what I am, my wisdom teeth keep coming back. It doesn't happen right away. It takes a few months until they start to bother me. I can usually go nine or ten months before I can't stand it anymore.”

“Well, that sounds less than fun.” I commented.

He slumped back in the chair. “It happens. I'm not the first to have this problem. It's just a pain. Especially since I'm not based in Chicago anymore. It's inconvenient to see the pack dentist.”

“They have their own dentist?” I ask, tossing my mask in the trash and removing my safety-glasses. They had little cartoon pictures of dancing teeth on the frames. The ladies at the office got them for me last Christmas. I loved them. Don't judge me.

“Like I said, things like this happen. I'm just glad my teeth have always been pretty straight.” He said.

I imagined werewolf' orthodontics. Would they have to keep redoing the braces? That would be both sucky and expensive.

I thought about what I knew about werewolves. I looked at his chart. There was a fluorescent orange sticker on it. ALLERGY – SILVER NITRATE, AMALGAM

“Hmm, so what happens when you have contact with silver nitrate?” I asked him.

“Uh, I'm not sure. We just have a general sensitivity to silver. A cut with a silver knife takes extra long to heal. Touching silver is irritating to the skin.” He said as I pulled up the armrest so he could get out of the chair.

“What if a little piece of silver gets stuck in the body?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not a lot. It just sits there and is irritating. Eventually the body puts a little ball of scar-tissue around it. Then it doesn't hurt anymore.”

I pursed my lips, thinking. “Do you think it would be alright if I called the pack's dentist? I have an idea, but I wanted to run it by them. Be sure to leave your number with our receptionist and I'll get back to you. If you know how I can reach the pack dentist leave that info with her too.” I gave him my friendly-dentist smile and turned back to write in his chart.

Guy stood. I expected him to walk to the door. I didn't expect him to take two big steps and grab the counter to either side of me, trapping me between his arms.

Shit, I was all in dentist mode and forgot who I was dealing with, a werewolf I'd left with blue balls two weeks ago.

“We still have unfinished business, Mick.” He growled.

I flinched, at least he wasn't touching me yet. I could feel his irritation and desire trying to get through to me, but I was at work and my defenses were high there. As long as he didn't touch me skin to skin I could ignore it. If he wasn't so damned good-looking things would have been easier.

“I'm sorry I got you excited then left you in the hall.” I said meekly, glancing at the door. “Let's not do this. You'll squick my assistant if she comes in right now, and she might clock you with the op light if she thinks you're harassing me.”

Lori was the protective type. It was cute. She was also way too observant. If I could feel the flush in my cheeks she would see it and very likely draw some conclusions. She was always trying to get me to date. If she saw me all blushy with hot Guy all up in my business, I'm not sure if she would knock Guy out or just shut the door quietly after giving me a thumbs-up.

“Then later.” He growled. “See me later.”

His desire was beating out his irritation now. As much as I didn't want to be alone with an annoyed werewolf, I really didn't want to be alone with a horny one. That had ended... distressingly last time. I tried desperately not to remember how his hands felt on me, his tongue in my mouth, his... fuck I was thinking about it. I leaned back as he leaned in. Don't touch me. Don't touch me. Dammit.

“I don't think that's a good idea.” I tried to keep from squeaking.

“See me later or I'll be in the parking lot waiting for you at closing-time everyday until you do.” He said with a frown.

Fucking pushy werewolves.

I heard Lori and our hygienist, Melissa, laugh about something in the hall, then the sound of the autoclave clacking closed so it could be run. Shit, they were done with the instruments.

“Fine. Fine.” I hissed. “I'll meet you at the Village Inn on Highway six at six-thirty tonight. You know where it is?”

He nodded and grinned. I gave his chest a little shove. Ooh, pleasantly muscley. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the thought. “Now out. And like I said, be sure we have a contact number for you.”

He backed off and I sighed in relief. He was hot-stuff, sure, but I was at work. I have a no groping policy at work, very firm. If he had stayed there looming over me, looking all broody and intense I'm not sure I'd have been able to keep my hands off him. I didn't want to have to write myself up for fondling a patient.

Besides, I knew he wanted to fuck me. I just wasn't sure if he wanted to eat me afterwards, and I don't mean 'eat' in a nice blow-job euphemism kind of way.

I was suddenly alone in the op and I sagged against the counter. I washed my hands again and hurried to my personal office. I was definitely not going back into room two again until it was thoroughly cleaned and disinfected. Lori would have to snag the chart for Maricella.

I was going to need a lot of hand sanitizer tonight. I could tell.

***********************************

I didn't dilly-dally after work. I got home and started my nightly routine. It was just a bit more rushed than usual since I would be meeting Guy.

I stripped off my clothes, tossed them in the hamper, then hopped in the shower. The water was deliciously hot, I loved my new water heater. I soaped and rinsed twice, once with antibacterial soap and once with rosemary soap. A fast shampoo and I was clean, at least on the outside.

I dried off quickly and pulled the lid from a wooden box tucked on a shelf. Inside was a long glass dish filled with blue-green liquid. Its lid had a seal that made a quiet pop as I removed it and set it aside. There was only one object in the dish, I pulled the short knife from the watery liquid and let it drip for a moment. The knife was a single piece of metal, with no wood or plastic for the handle. I rinsed it and shook the water off. I think it was supposed to be a throwing knife or something, but it worked well for my needs.

I had a convenient dispenser for rubbing alcohol on the sink. I took a cotton ball from the cup next to it and pumped some alcohol onto the cotton. The alcohol left a cool wet path on my wrist. I didn't waste time, pressing the blade to the damp flesh and giving one smooth hard pull. The sting of the alcohol hit me before the blood had a chance to well up. It followed quickly, enough to trickle but not enough to drip. The blade was sharp enough to cut but too dull to do much damage. I learned quickly that razor blades were a terrible choice. Those things were sharp as hell. I didn't want to slip and need stitches or worse. All I needed was a shallow cut with a little blood. Enough to hurt, enough to pop my endorphins just a little. The stinging alcohol helped boost it. I'd figured out the alcohol trick just a few years ago.

As I watched the blood seep slowly I focused on the pain from the cut as well as the fear the blood and pain evoked. I pushed back feelings of shame and guilt that tried to stick their noses in. They weren't helpful.

Maricella had been worrying over something when she came into the office this morning. It had stuck to me when she'd brushed past me in the hall at work. It had sat on my skin all day, an annoying tingle.

I set a finger on the cut and pressed, sending a little shock up my arm. The cloying tingle of Maricella's worries faded then disappeared.

The sting of every injection I'd given that day also left me. The hygienist's feelings of insecurity about her weight, the heavy sadness from my nine-o'clock patient whose wife had died the month before, the embarrassment from my one-o'clock that had been fifteen minutes late, and the dull ache from my two o'clock's migraine all slipped away. I let them go happily.

When I was alone in my own skin, I stopped pressing. I took a deep breath and let it out. I often wished I could just stay like this, empty and alone inside of myself. It was one of the few times I knew my thoughts were my own. Right now I knew my thought and feelings were mine, not someone else's.

But tonight I didn't have time to enjoy it.

I rinsed the blade and put it back in the blue-green sterilizing solution, replacing the lids. I washed my wrist and dried it carefully, applying pressure until I knew it wasn't going to bleed anymore. I opened a drawer and snagged a leather cuff. I'd had it made specially for me. When I put it on it looked like a wide leather cuff. It had a few small buckles and straps. I hoped it didn't make me look like a pretentious douche, but whatever.

I wore it when I didn't have long-sleeves. People get weird if they see someone with a cut-up wrist. Things get awkward. The other useful thing about the cuff was that I could clip inserts into it. If I had a fresh cut, I could snap in a strip of soft cloth. I could also put in a piece that had short dulled pins sticking out of it. If I needed a shot of pain I could press on the wrist band and the pins would poke me. It was usually enough to keep me from drowning if I needed to escape someone's emotions.

I was witness to an accident between a car and a bike several years ago. When I tried to help I was nearly crippled by the pain from the injuries of the guy on the bike. I ended up being unable to help at all. The E.M.T.'s had tried to take me to the hospital because they thought I'd been in the accident.

I had the cuff made after that. I don't go out without my wristband unless I'm on an empath job or going to work at the dental office.

I snapped in the cloth and the pins. I gave it an experimental squeeze to make sure it was settled well. Perfect. It was comfortable when I left it alone and it hurt when I put pressure one it.

I yanked a brush through my hair and held my bangs out of my face with a plain barrette. Boys can use barrettes too, so fuck off. I don't like having my hair in my eyes and I don't like it too short either. When I had empath work I slicked it back with gel. Otherwise I had several plain headbands and barrettes I could hold it back with.

I threw some clothes on and I was on my way. I didn't put on my usual herbal lotion and I left my little juju bag. I needed to have my senses about me, not be numbed. The lotion and the bag of herbs and stones would dull my empathy. I didn't want Guy to catch me by surprise again.

I snagged my keys and locked the door behind me.

********************************

Guy picked the booth I would have picked. It was in a corner in the back. It was also under an air vent. The air vent was a nice bonus since it would make it more difficult to overhear us. If I still smelled yummy to him, hopefully the good air circulation would keep Guy from getting too frisky.

He stood when he saw me. It was a gentlemanly gesture that left me feeling uncomfortable. I slid into the booth, sitting opposite to the spot he'd vacated. I expected him to sit back down where he'd been before. Instead he slid in next to me.

“Hey!” I hissed, scooting flush with the wall.

He smiled at me. “I don't want you getting spooked and taking off before I get a chance to talk to you.”

I shooed at him ineffectually. “I'll listen, go to your own side.”

He shook his head.

I was about to argue further when the waitress approached us. Her bright smile lost a little wattage as she saw me smooshed against the wall glaring at Guy.

“Dr. Nate! Everything ok?” She said, eyeballing Guy.

I straightened and smacked on a smile. “Just fine. I think we're ready to order!” I chirped.

Guy blinked and scrambled for his menu, quickly finding what he wanted and relaying it to the waitress. She bounced off to give our order to the kitchen and get our drinks.

“She a patient of yours?” He asked.

I shook my head. “If she was I couldn't tell you, it would be a HIPAA privacy violation.”

He looked sheepish.

I smirked. “But she's not. I just come in here pretty regularly. It's the cleanest restaurant in town.”

He looked at me oddly. Whatever. Doesn't everyone choose their restaurants by how well they eradicate lingering psychic vibrations?

Restaurants usually weren't bad anyway as long as they weren't too busy. Bars weren't great. I avoided clubs like the plague.

I scooted back to the wall.

“So, how's Chrissy doing?” I asked. I'd planned to send Saul Thorpe an email to see how his daughter was faring. Maybe Guy could fill me in.

He seemed unprepared for the question. “Oh, I think she's doing well. It was surprising how quickly she's been recovering. She's seeing a psychologist every other day. Mr. Thorpe is keeping a close eye on her, just in case Benton wasn't the only one scheming.”

“Benton?” I asked as our waitress set our drinks in front of us and then puttered off again.

“He was the one that was threatening Christina.” He said.

“Oh, right. I just saw him, I didn't hear her say his name.” I stuck my straw in my Sprite and took a swig.

Guy looked immensely curious, I was impressed he was able to keep from asking questions about my session with Chrissy.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about, Guy?” I turned sideways in the booth to face him, pulling up one knee and setting my foot on the seat. Yeah, bad manners, I know.

The tips of his ears turned pink and I hid a smirk by taking another sip of my drink. I relaxed a little. It was hard to feel threatened by a blushing dude. It also didn't seem like he was going to jump on me any second, that helped. I felt excitement and nervousness as well as determination swirling through him, nothing that made me want to flee.

“I...” He bit his lip and continued. “I'm really sorry about what happened in Chicago. I really have no excuse for my behavior. I thought I could handle your scent. And then we stopped at the hotel, and then I was thinking about your mouth on my...”

He paused, blushing brighter. Shit, now he was just being cute.

“And then when you ran... I wanted so badly to catch you.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I'm sorry if I came on too strong.”

“It was a little... intense.” I conceded, resting my chin on my knee. “Part of the reason I ran was because I wasn't sure if I was going to end up with a hand-job or my throat ripped out.”

Guy cocked his head to the side and looked confused. “You thought I was going to hurt you?”

“You were talking about me like I smelled like your favorite pastry and you kept on nipping me. When I tried to talk to you it seemed like your wolfy-side was in control. I don't know enough about your people to know if you're dangerous in that state.” I explained.

“Oh, damn.” He sighed. “This is embarrassing. I wasn't going to hurt you, I swear. I'm so sorry.”

I nodded. I didn't know if I wouldn't be freaked out if I was in the situation again, but I was willing to accept that Guy hadn't been planning on painting the hotel with my blood. Good to know.

“You know it's freaky that I smell yummy to you. And to that other guy in the warehouse.” I grimaced. It made me feel like a giant cookie.

“It's not just the two of us. You should smell that way to most of us. I'm not sure if the alphas are susceptible.” He looked thoughtful.

“What do you mean when you say I smell good? Like food, or perfume, or what?” I asked.

When he leaned in to me my relaxation vanished and I was pushing myself into the wall again.

“It's hard to describe.” He tipped his head and nuzzled the hand on my knee.

I yanked it to my chest protectively.

“It makes my heart beat harder and my skin feel warm. I want to pull you close and cover myself in your scent, wrap it around me and wallow in it.”

His fingers wrapped around my ankle and slid up my calf.

“Hey!” I yipped. “Hands, Mister! Hands to yourself!” I pushed at him with my foot.

“But I want to touch you so much.” He crowded toward me. “Just a little? Please?”

“Alright. That's enough of that.” I said sternly, I was not going to get groped in the Village Inn.

I grimaced and kicked my foot back under the table. Then I did I little move I learned when I was about five. I let my body go loose and slid under the table. I crouched low so I wouldn't bonk my head. I scooted up onto the opposite bench just as our waitress arrived with our food. I got myself situated and glared at my dinner companion.

Our waitress looked more amused than concerned with my little trip under the table. After we assured her we didn't need refills on our drinks we were alone again.

“Are you sure you're thirty?” Guy asked me. “The last person I saw do that was my niece and she's seven.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, you caught me. I'm sixteen. I'm the dental equivalent of Doogie Howser.”

“Yeah, you're a dentist. I didn't see that coming.” He said.

“And I didn't expect to see you in my chair.” I countered.

This was exactly why I didn't do empath work around home. I preferred to not work in Iowa at all. Most of my work ended up being in Chicago or Minneapolis. Sometimes I was called down to St. Louis or around Kansas City. I'd been further, but I tried not to work any closer to home. I liked my regular life separate from my empath work.

“You don't live in Chicago?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I just got transferred. I finished my training and certification and was assigned here. My area is most of Southeast Iowa.”

“What do you do?” I asked, cutting a piece of my chicken-fried steak. Mmmm, gravy. Yummy.

“I'm a guardian. I'm here for protection and guidance for the pack in the area.” He said, chomping a fry.

“What, like a cop?” I wondered. I felt much more comfortable with a table between us.

He shook his head. “Not exactly. Usually, it's helping people work through problems like a therapist. Sometimes it means acting as a mediator. Sometimes it is a bit like police work, if the problem is serious enough. Most of the time I will be helping pack with problem solving and dealing with issues.”

“Sounds complicated.” I said as I squirted ketchup on my hashbrowns.

He looked vaguely horrified that I would taint my hashbrowns with ketchup. I took a little delight in stirring them around to mix the ketchup in while he was watching.

He pulled his attention away from my supper. “It can be, but I really love it. You have to have a psychology degree and quite a bit of training. There's even an exam you have to take to get certified as a guardian. There's continuing education too.”

I groaned. “I hate continuing ed. I hope it's more interesting than what dentists have to do.”

Guy grinned. “I hope so, too. I haven't had to take any yet. I was still just a junior before this. This is my first post as a full guardian.”

“Have you been busy with the new job?” I asked.

He shrugged. “There's always someone who needs help. It can be hard being what we are. Fitting in with regular society while still being a part of your pack is a balancing act. And we always have to be careful that pack secrets are kept from the regular world.”

I sucked on my drink. “Yeah, you're awfully free with the info when you're talking to me, though. This is more detailed than the briefing I got for the the Chicago job.”

His ears burned again as he paused, hamburger halfway to his mouth. “Well, I got permission.”

“Oh, so I can get the info I need to work on your teeth?” I asked.

“Uh, not exactly.” He looked at his plate like his pickle held life's answers. “I actually called the new Beta after I saw you.” He peeked up at me and his gaze was intense. “I got permission to pursue you.”

I dropped my fork with a clatter. Fuck. I thought he said he didn't want to eat me? My mind was filled with visions of Guy chasing me through the woods, running me down like a rabbit. My heart hammered and my eyes went wide. Was it some kind of sick game the werewolves played? Did they find a human target that they found interesting, then they got permission to 'pursue' them? Did I get a head start? God, I hoped I got a head start... and a bazooka.

I didn't even realize I was out of the booth until I felt a sharp pain in my wrist. Guy had grabbed my arm to stop me and caught the cuff. The sharp sting helped calm me down. He wasn't going to kill me in the middle of the restaurant. Murder and pancakes don't mix. Well, I don't think they do.

I yanked my hand free. “I thought you said you didn't want to hurt me.” I hissed at him.

He blinked at me stupidly. “What... I don't!”

“But you just want to 'pursue' me?” I said, trying to keep my voice down. “And when you chase me down and catch me, what, we have tea and crumpets?”

I stalked toward the register. They'd have to find my ticket so I could pay. I couldn't wait. I was so out of here.

“Wait, no!” Guy followed at my heels. “Pursue doesn't mean that!”

He stopped behind me, tugging at my shirt-sleeve, trying to get me to turn around. I ignored him. I'd be contacting the Alpha when I got home. This was bullshit.

“It means I want to date you! I want to woo you!” He ended with a distressed shout.

I froze. Our waitress was in front of me at the register. She looked from me to Guy and then back again. A huge grin spread across her face and her eyes sparkled.

She leaned over and stage-whispered. “Go for it, Dr. Nate. He's hot.”

I groaned and glanced around. Every eye was on us. There were even a couple of guys from the kitchen that were leaning out to see what the hubbub was.

I would never be able to show my face in that restaurant again.

I ended up letting Guy come back to my house. That didn't mean I would let him inside. Oh, hell, no. But he was certainly not done talking to me and I was certainly done being gawked at. I was also terrified of what kind of encouragements our waitress would give to Guy. If there was one thing I didn't need, it was an encouraged Guy.

“You.” I pointed to my porch swing. “Sit there.” I ordered.

He sat obediently. Good, wolfy.

My lot was pretty big and the house was set back from the street. There were plenty of trees and bushes to block prying eyes and ears. As long as we stayed relatively quiet, no one should be listening in.

I stood in front of him, fists on my hips.

“Ok, now what the fuck are you talking about?” I asked shortly.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and leaned back on the swing. He looked nervous and I could feel it.

“I told you. I want to date you. I got permission. I had to since you aren't pack. You're now designated as one pursued. That connects you to the pack and gets you certain protections and lets you know more about us.” His hazel eyes looked so earnest it was hard to keep pushing him away.

But he didn't realize that he was barking up the wrong tree. Hell, he was in the wrong damn forest.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You seem like a nice person, Guy.” My eyes slid up his legs and thighs to his chest and broad shoulders then to his handsome face. “And Christ knows you are definitely nice to look at.

“But I am not the type of guy you date. I'm not dating material. I'm not boyfriend material, especially not for someone like you.

He stiffened. “Someone like me?”

I grunted. “Yes. Someone like you. You are a helper. You are a combo cop/therapist/knight in shining armor. Sir Guy-lahad.”

He frowned. He didn't think I was funny. I thought I was funny. Maybe it was the delivery.

“Anyway, you deserve some sweet normal person that you can have a sweet normal relationship with. Then you can get married and have sweet normal babies. I am so not that sweet normal person. I don't date. I just don't.” I finished.

My dream was that he would sigh softly and say he understood. He would nod sadly and go to leave. Maybe he would give me a wistful parting kiss. And I would never see him again. I would make copies of his x-rays and send them to his new dentist.

Yeah, that's not what happened.

Goddammit, werewolves are fast. Guy was on me in a second. His arms wrapped around me as he pressed his cheek to the side of my neck. I tried to push him back, but it was like shoving a boulder. My panic settled down a little as I realized he wasn't doing anything but hugging me. I'd been glomped by a werewolf.

He whispered into my throat, raising goosebumps down my skin. “I told myself I was willing to let you go. If you told me you weren't interested, if you didn't want me.”

I gave his shoulder another experimental shove. Nope, still not moving. His feelings of affection and protectiveness tried to burrow into me, I fought them off.

“And that's what I told you. Not interested.” I grumbled. “Now, please stop smooshing me.”

He shook his head, making him nuzzle into my throat. I fought a shiver. God, that felt good.

“No.” He said. “You didn't. You told me you think I'm a good person and you find me physically attractive. Then you tried to tell me you aren't worth dating. You tried to convince me that I'm too good for you. Then you put yourself down.” I felt his warm breath on my skin. “You like me, and it's ok for me to like you.”

Shit. He was going to go psychologist on me. I should have seen this coming. Later he would make me talk about my feelings or something. No fucking way.

“I just said that so you wouldn't feel bad when I rejected you!” I yelped as he kissed behind my ear. “I don't like you!” I stammered. “You're ugly and you smell bad!”

“I think you like me.” He whispered in my ear.

The affection was still there, brushing against me. But I felt the rising tide of his desire and tried to brace myself against it. His hands slid down my back to cup my ass. He pressed himself tight to me and I knew the moment he noticed my erection because I could feel him smirk against my neck.

“I know you like me.” He said, pulling back to look into my eyes. “And you're safe with me. I won't hurt you. I promise.”

Yeah, fucking right. I'd heard that kind of line before.

He kissed me, pressing his lips gently against me. His tongue slipped in, stroking against mine. He pressed harder, seeking then caressing and I was lost. I'm a sucker for a hot kiss, and I let myself fall into his passion.

I groaned into his mouth and my hands pulled him closer instead of pushing him away. He grunted in satisfaction and pressed me to the wall behind me. I rested my weight on one leg and threw the other around his. Guy grabbed it above my knee and pulled until we were groin to groin, grinding against each other.

If this kept up I was going to fuck him right here on the porch.

“Fuck, ahh.” I moaned as he nibbled my neck. “Inside, Guy. Let's go inside.”

He grabbed me around the waist and half-carried half-dragged me into my house. The door opened directly into my living room. My bedroom was to the right. We didn't make it to my room. The couch was closer.

We fell onto it in a tangle. He rolled on top of me, kissing me hard. I shoved his shirt up as he popped the button on my pants and pushed them down, leaving me in my boxers with my pants trapping my ankles. My fingers skimmed up his side and over his chest. He had just enough muscle to give definition and a sense of mass and strength. His skin was hot, like he had a fever. I couldn't remember if he was this warm when he'd had me up against the hotel room door. I dragged my thumbs over his nipples and he groaned, his grip on my knee tightening. I grinned and did it again.

His mouth caught mine and it was my turn to thrust my tongue past his lips. I wanted to devour him, I didn't know if the feeling was mine or his and I didn't fucking care. I dragged my short nails up his back and he arched, rubbing against me. Damn, he was pretty with his dark hair mussed and his eyes half-closed, breathing hard. I freed his pants' button and tugged the zipper down, wanting to feel his hard length in my hand. I felt his hot flush of pleasure like silk in my mind as I wrapped my fingers around him through the cloth of his undies. Felt like boxers. I approved. He groaned and started pushing my shirt up my stomach.

I slammed the brakes on my horniness, grabbed his wrist and yanked it back down. He looked puzzled and tugged again. Even with my hold, he was pulling my shirt up again. Dammit, he was strong.

“Wait.” I said as the fabric inched up. Shit, it was getting too close. I smacked his arm. “Wait, goddammit.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can take your pants off, but losing your shirt makes you shy?”

I gritted my teeth. “If we're going to play, then it's either with my shirt on or in the dark. That's the rule.”

Guy's eyebrows came down and I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“Why?” He asked, letting go of my shirt.

“It doesn't matter.” I said, tugging my shirt safely down to my waist. “So, what'll it be? Shirt on, dark, or are you going home?” I knew I was kind of being a dick, I just couldn't bring myself to feel very bad about it. I hated this conversation every time I had it.

Guy frowned and I could tell he wanted to argue. He didn't though, smart boy. Instead he stripped off his own shirt and slid himself down my body. God, he felt good against me.

“Shirt on.” He said, smirking up at me. “I want to see your face when I make you come.”

I had wilted a bit when I'd fought for my shirt, but his words made my cock twitch and harden. I sucked in a breath as he wrapped his lips around me through the fabric of my boxers. God, his mouth was so hot. Jesus, I thought he might kiss me a little or grope me or something. Impatient bugger went straight for the dick. Not that I was complaining, no sane man would complain when someone is extra eager to suck his cock.

I could feel the heat of his breath and tongue through the cotton. He nuzzled me and grinned as he caught the waistband in his teeth and tugged. I helped out by lifting my hips so he could pull them down. But that's me, I'm a helpful sort.

He quickly tugged off everything I had on from the waist down and tossed them carelessly out of the way. His impatience was fucking adorable. I looked into eyes that had bled to green. He knelt between my knees and regarded me as his palms slid up my knees and thighs. My breath hitched as one hand wrapped around my length and the other cupped my balls, rolling them gently with his fingers. His hand around my shaft moved up, friction pulling on my skin deliciously. His thumb swiped over the head, smearing the slick precum and making me moan. His fist slid back down my length as he leaned forward. My balls tightened as he licked his lips and I felt a puff of his breath against my sensitive tip.

My fingers gripped the cushion as I felt his tongue, hesitant at first, swipe once over the head of my cock as his hand gave me a squeeze.

“Jesus.” I stuttered.

“Close.” He said with a smirk and licked me again. “But not quite.”

Then he moved his hand away and swallowed my length in one smooth movement. My hips bucked and I let out a strangled grunt. He choked a little as I thrust upward and caught him a little deeper in his throat that he'd expected. He swallowed, his throat tightening around me. My chest tightened as I gasped.

He pulled back up slowly, suction hollowing his cheeks. When he reached the tip, his tongue swirled my head once then he was quickly going back down again, pushing to take all of me. He seemed to find a rhythm, pushing himself to take me deeper on each downward slide until his lips hit my body at the base of my cock each time. I wasn't going to last long, it felt amazing.

“Guy, oh fuck.” I moaned and he hummed around me and increased his pace.

His hand lifted and rolled my balls as his mouth kept moving. Then, the hand slid back, sneaking between my ass cheeks. My hands unclenched from my couch's cushion and my grip transferred to his shoulders, digging into the muscles. I felt a touch against my asshole, pushing without entering. It circled my hole, then tapped against it in a firm staccato. Electric pleasure shot from my ass to my cock and back again.

It's polite to let the person sucking your cock for the first time know when you are about to erupt so they don't have to swallow if they don't want to. I wanted to flip off politeness, grab him by the back of the head, push my cock deep, and jizz down his throat.

I controlled myself and was able to gasp out a warning. “Guy, I'm going to fucking come.”

He hummed again and quickened his pace further. Looked like Guy was a swallower. Yay. The knowledge bumped me over the edge. My nails dug into his shoulders as my head fell back. My orgasm was hot and electric, Guy swallowing around me sending little shocks up my cock and into my balls.

When I was finally able to lift my leaden head from the back of the couch and open my eyes, Guy was grinning up at me. His elbow rested on my thigh, his cheek resting in his hand.

“Well, that was fun.” His voice was deep with an edge of a growl to it.

I grinned back. “Definitely.” I sat up and tugged him to me, kissing him as deeply as I could, enjoying the taste of myself on his tongue. I pulled back. “So, do I make silly faces when I come?”

Guy's eyes darkened. “Not silly, more like amazingly erotic.”

I gave him a quick kiss on the nose. “Well, that's good. Nobody wants a goofy o-face.” I sat up a little. “Now sit back, baby, it's my turn to see your face when you come in my mouth.”

I was confused by a tiny flare of disappointment from Guy. I focused my attention to where my skin was touching his and looked closer at the feeling. An image flickered for a just a moment in my mind. I was on my hands and knees with Guy behind me, thrusting hard and fast into my ass. My cock twitched and started to harden again. Down, boy. That was so not happening tonight. He would have to be happy with a suck off. I wasn't ready to let him fuck me. I had fought against screwing around with him at all and failed. I could at least have some control over how far this went.

He let me push him back against the couch and strip him the rest of the way. He threw one leg up on the couch seat, his other foot rested on the coffee table. His knees fell open, exposing himself to my eyes. His uncut cock was long and thick, curling slightly to point at his flat belly. The bush around his base was short and neat. He manscaped, how nice. I was momentarily distracted by the irony of a werewolf keeping himself trimmed tidily.

I crawled up and laid against him, bringing our lips together. I had a moment of disappointment that I couldn't feel his skin against mine with my shirt on. I pushed it back. I'd rather see him than have to turn off the lights so I could lose my shirt. I felt his hand slide up the back of my thigh to grab my bare ass. I nuzzled into his neck, nipping and sucking. His grip tightened, pulling me flush against him. I licked his collarbone and bit his shoulder. I felt his cock throb where it was trapped between our bodies.

His fingers tickled the base of my spine just below the hem of my shirt.

“I won't pull it up.” He said. “But can I feel underneath? I want to touch you.”

I nodded and his hand slid under my shirt and up my back. I arched into his touch, grinding my groin against him. He groaned, his other hand going to my hip, holding me against him. Fingers tickled up my spine then back down, tracing my vertebrae. He rubbed my lower back then higher again.

“You feel nice.” He murmured as I kissed across his broad chest.

I wriggled against his erection. “You feel pretty damned nice yourself.”

He groaned, his grip spasming against my hip. I leaned up and let myself slide back until my knees hit the floor. I kissed and licked across his nipples then down his stomach. He let go of me, hands falling to his sides.

I paused until his eyes focused and looked down at me. I grinned and held his gaze as I stuck my tongue out as far as I could and dragged it wetly from the base of his cock to the tip. I caught a pearl of precum there and slurped it from the slit. He shuddered.

“Mmmm, Guy-lollipop.” The grin was still on my face. “Yummy.”

He looked like he was about to say something. Before he got the chance I dropped my head forward and tried to swallow down as much of Guy's cock as I could in one movement. His words transformed into a choked grunt. I sucked as I pulled partway off him then slid down again, trying to get down further on his shaft with my lips.

I know I have plenty of faults. I try to accept them, change them, or ignore them. I also have a few talents. One I take pride in is being a grade-A cocksucker. I once had a boyfriend who told me he thought I could suck the chrome off a hubcap. He looked pretty damn happy when he said it, so I took it as a compliment. It was one area where being an empath was handy. It was like cheating. I could feel when I hit the right spot with my tongue, or if I needed to back off on the suction. It was really almost masturbatory. I could feel the pleasure as my own if I let go enough.

So, I knew when Guy wanted me to suck his balls and just how hard to do it. I also knew he liked it when I let myself slurp loudly as I sucked down the length of his shaft then up again to twirl my tongue around the head. I wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and squeezed gently. I moved my fist to follow my mouth as it pulled up then sucked back down. He was well lubricated with my saliva and my hand slid easily, adding a twist on the way back toward his body. I moaned around him as I felt myself tighten in bliss. He was close.

I felt his fingers running aimlessly through my hair.

“Mick. Oh, fuck, Mick.”

I tried to hum encouragingly. I twirled my tongue up the long ridge on the underside of his cock and upped my pace, sucking him faster. His hips began to rise and fall in time with my motions. His breaths started to stutter and I felt his cock jerk then become impossibly hard. He came with a curse and a groan and I swallowed as fast as I could.

Nice boys swallow. I try to be nice.

When I thought I had gotten all I was going to I pulled my lips off him with a pop. He shivered and groaned, oversensitive. I couldn't help a slightly sadistic smile. Okay, I'm sort of nice, sometimes.

I liked that small reaction I could get from a man just after he came. That feeling of too much too soon on flesh that was way too sensitive, making their breath hitch and their body jerk. On myself it felt wickedly delicious, but I've had several lovers who accused me of masochism.

I snagged my undershorts as I heaved myself back up onto the couch next to a recovering Guy. He panted as I dabbed at the white smears on my stomach and the tip of my cock, then I leaned over to wipe off his shin.

He blinked at me, eyes still glassy. “Did you... again?”

I dropped the boxers back on the floor and curled into his side. “Yup.” I snuggled his arm around my shoulder. “Empaths are easy.”

He snorted and his amusement wrapped around me like a cool puff of wind. He rested his feet on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankle. Contented relaxation poured into me and I let it, it was better than Thorazine. His fingers stroked idly up and down my arm, slipping up and stopping at my sleeve then back down again. If I were a cat I'd have been purring.

Unfortunately, a post-coital buzz can't last forever. I could feel him starting to think too much, like a murmur of muted conversation in the next room. I leaned over and kissed his wrist as it petted my arm, then ducked out from under his. I sat up and stretched. When I wasn't touching him I felt a little more myself. I stood and tugged on my pants. I snagged his clothes from where we'd flung them and tossed them into his lap. Subtle, that's me. But it seemed more polite than telling him to put on his damn clothes and get out.

I was starting to feel a little sick. This was a bad idea. This was always a bad idea. I walked stiffly to the bathroom and got myself a drink or water in the little plastic cup I keep above the sink, rinsing the lingering bitterness from the back of my tongue. I heard rustling movement from the living room. I hoped when I turned Guy would have slipped out the front door.

No such luck. When I turned, he was walking toward me. At least he had his pants on. His shirt was in his hands. His wide chest taunted me, begging me to measure him with my hands and remind myself how warm and firm he felt. I set down my cup and stepped out of the bathroom. I didn't want him to block me in there. I shook my head. I'd just sucked him off willingly, he wasn't likely to jump me. I was just being stupid. I didn't take the step back, though, in fact I took a few more steps forward and met him in the middle of the room.

I let him reach forward and stroke my cheek. With the touch came affection chased with a little confusion and worry. Also, he was thinking way too fucking hard for me to be comfortable. I could almost see the question mark twirling above his head. I needed to shoo him off before he started poking questions at me to see if he could knock some answers loose. He wanted to figure me out. Unfortunately, I wasn't in the mood to be figured.

I pushed myself up and caught his mouth with mine. Hard to ask dumb questions with my tongue in his mouth. Ha, so there. I didn't feel quite so clever when his arms wrapped around me and pulled me close as he hummed happily. I let out an embarrassing squeak as he squeezed just a little too tight. He eased off immediately and murmured an apology.

I stepped out of his arms and looked pointedly at the clock.

“Well,” I started lamely. “I have patients in the morning, so...”

He blinked at me dumbly and looked at the clock. It wasn't that late. I wasn't very good at this, but dammit I was tired and I needed to wipe down and disinfect the couch and probably some of the floor too. Then I'd need to give myself another shower and a moment with my little knife just so I'd be able to settle down enough to sleep. I should probably get my clothes in the washer while I was thinking of it.

“I guess... I should go then?” He asked.

I nodded sagely and gave him a bright empty smile. He tugged his shirt on over his head. I walked to the front door and stood next to it while he pulled on his shoes. He stepped to me and leaned over to drop a careful kiss on my lips.

“I'll call you tomorrow.” He said. “I want to see you again.”

“You want to be my boyfriend.” I fought a grimace. “I don't want a boyfriend, Guy.” I gestured at my couch just waiting to be scrubbed down. “That's about the best that I can offer you. I know you want and deserve more than a quick and dirty suck-and-fuck.” I rested my head back on the wall. “Or, in our case, suck without the fuck.”

He caught my chin with his fingers and tugged it down to make me look at him. His mouth pressed to mine hard and fast, catching my breath in my chest. When he pulled back my lips tingled with heat.

His voice held a low growl. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

He slipped out my door, his steps silent on the wood planks of my porch.

He was going down the steps as I sucked in a breath and stuck my head out the door. “You're not my boyfriend!”

He didn't turn around, just waved a hand at me dismissively. “Tomorrow.”

I huffed and clenched my teeth. If this kept up I was going to need a mouthguard just for Guy-related bruxism, grinding my teeth to dust.

He was pursuing me. Shit.