RYC 15

In the meantime, I inhaled nicotine deep into my lungs. I felt like I could finally breathe after exhaling a long stream of smoke. My stress vanished in an instant, and the irritation that had briefly flared up disappeared along with it.

Ding-dong.

When I opened the door at the sound of the bell, it was room service, as expected. After signing and leaving a tip, I sent the bellhop away. With the cigarette still in my mouth, I pulled the cart inside myself and prepared to drink the wine. Doug would probably want to go at it one more time when he came out. If so, I planned to just settle for oral. I enjoyed sucking each other off, too.

Getting moderately drunk would be better for the mood and make it easier to get him to pull out quickly.

I had prepared myself at home beforehand, but that didn’t make penetration feel any better. It still felt like there was a foreign object inside me and it just hurt, so I intended to make sure he didn’t put it in again today.

Damn bastards, insisting on putting it in no matter what.

Irritated, I inhaled and exhaled the cigarette smoke, placed the wine glass in a suitable spot, and took out the corkscrew. As I drove the screw into the cork with force, I suddenly heard the sound of music.

It was Doug’s ringtone. I instinctively looked down at the phone Doug had left behind.

Hannah Reynolds.

Pop.

The cork escaped the stifling wine bottle with a sound of liberation. The sweet yet refreshing scent of red wine spread to the tip of my nose. However, I couldn’t savor it comfortably.

The person on the other end might be a simple sex partner, just like I was. But as far as I knew, Doug was gay. There was little chance he had transitioned to being bi without my knowledge. The name on the phone was unmistakably a woman’s.

For a while, I stared blankly at the phone that continued to ring. After ringing for some time, the bell finally went silent. Listening to the faint echo lingering in my ears, I picked up the phone. My brow furrowed instinctively at the unpleasant feeling of snooping through someone else’s phone.

He really is a simpleton.

The password was the same as before. Unlocking it in one go, I skimmed through the recent history. There wasn’t much to look at. After scrolling a few times, the conclusion was immediate.

Click.

At the sound of the bathroom door opening, I put the phone down and poured the wine. Glug, glug, glug—the distinct, clear sound echoed in my ears.

“Oh, you haven’t finished your cigarette?”

At those words, I realized I had simply been holding the cigarette in my mouth. Pretending nothing was wrong, I tapped the cigarette, and the ash, which had reached its limit, collapsed under its own weight. Seeing the long gray body that had been resting heavily between my fingers just a moment ago now snapped in half and lying prone gave me a strange feeling. Before putting out the cigarette, I brought it to my lips one more time and took a long drag.

Doug walked out with a large towel wrapped around his waist. The contours revealed beneath the towel made it clear that he was wearing nothing else. I indifferently shifted my gaze to Doug’s face and offered him the wine.

“Oh, thanks. Shall we toast?”

I lifted my glass and lightly clinked it against his, as he wanted. Perhaps he was in a hurry, as Doug gulped down the generous amount of wine in one go without even savoring the aroma. He set the glass down and looked at me, as if waiting for me to drink.

A hollow laugh escaped me because he was so transparent.

Then again, that simple side of him was what I liked.

I merely moistened my lips and set the glass down. As if he had been waiting, he pulled me into an embrace. Our lips touched, and I just accepted it. While I was wondering how far I should let him go, the phone rang at the perfect timing. Doug reached out with an annoyed expression while peppering my face with kisses. The phone, which he touched with his fingertips, slid and fell onto the carpet.

“Ah, what the…”

Muttering irritably as he picked up the phone, Doug froze. The way he hesitated and glanced at me was unusual.

“Uh, hold on a second.”

I shrugged as if telling him to do whatever he wanted. I silently watched as he hurriedly answered the call and hid in the bathroom.

“…Yes, that’s right… Yes… What? No, that’s not…”

I could hear fragments of his voice as he struggled through the conversation. I leaned against the window, took out a new cigarette, and lit it. A frown naturally etched itself onto my forehead. After exhaling a long stream of smoke, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. When Doug finished the call and came out, I was smoking with an expressionless face.

“Ah, sorry. It was something urgent.”

Even as he apologized, he kept avoiding my gaze. I inhaled the smoke deeply and slowly let it out. Before the silence could give birth to suspicious doubts, I spoke first. With a smiling face.

“Was that the woman who called earlier?”

For a moment, he looked as if he might faint from shock. A bewildered silence followed.

“What?”

To him, who could barely manage to squeeze out those words, I spoke in a casual tone.

“The call that came while you were washing. Hannah Reynolds.”

Doug, who lacked even the brazenness to skillfully deflect the conversation, stammered, his face flushing red, not knowing what to do.

“You… you answered? Miss Reynolds’ call?”

“It kept ringing.”

“So, so? What did you say?”

At his reaction—pale and restless—I asked back.

“What do you think I would have said?”

“Stop joking!”

Doug snapped, but that only made him look more cornered. I reassured him in a nonchalant tone.

“Don’t worry, I told her you were a male prostitute.”

“Cough!”

At that moment, he began to cough violently. I quietly smoked my cigarette, waiting for his seizure to stop. Only after a long while did Doug lift his eyes, red from tears, and shout at me.

“Are you crazy? Why would you say that?”

I calmly exhaled the smoke.

“Why? Should I have said you’re Doug’s ex-lover and current sex partner?”

“Dammit!”

Doug exploded in frustration and kicked the sofa. I silently smoked the rest of my cigarette, watching him pace the room, letting out meaningless roars, hitting the wall, and banging his head.

After a while, unable to calm his excitement, Doug collapsed onto the bed, panting from exhaustion. Only after he had settled down somewhat did I finally speak.

“It was a lie.”

Doug stared at me blankly with glazed eyes. I brought the nearly finished cigarette to my lips and said,

“I said it was a lie. Surely you didn’t think I was the kind of tactless person who would arbitrarily answer an unattended phone and spout nonsense?”

“…Hah.”

Doug let out a sigh of disbelief, his breath hitching. He seemed completely exhausted. He slumped his shoulders, buried his face in his hands, and remained silent for a long time.

“…How did you know?”

Eventually, Doug asked in a lifeless voice. I answered as I put out the finished cigarette.

“A call came while you were washing. The name Hannah Reynolds popped up.”

Desire Me

“Dane?”

“Yeah, the bastard who smashed your head with a fire extinguisher.”

Grayson Miller’s life goal was to meet his fated mate, just like his Papa and Daddy had.

However, despite dating countless people, he hadn’t found the right one.

He even sought out a renowned Sorcerer, who told him his fated mate was someone ‘with large breasts’ who was connected to ‘Fire.’

Though skeptical, he pondered how to make a connection. Then, at a Pheromone Party he attended, a sudden fire broke out.

While toying with Omegas and spreading his Pheromones, he lost consciousness under the control of a Dominant Omega’s Pheromones.

Upon waking, Grayson realized his fated mate was at the fire station and, asking his father for a favor, got hired as a parachute recruit.

But from his very first day, he found himself in physical altercations with the firefighters who saw him as a threat, and he became particularly entangled with that Dane Striker fellow…