Jacob hadn't seen them coming.
He broke into a cold sweat every night they came in. He wanted to know what he did to have his past crawl out of the woodwork after 9 years to bite him in the ass.
It wasn't fair.
His heart had palpitations. And he knew it wasn't just fear. He knew that every time he saw them, his groin lurched.
He had set to fucking every girl on the stage to forget his past, some multiple times.
But here his past was, sitting at table no. 5, smirking and devouring his form through ocher eyes.
He felt foolish now; it didn't matter how much pussy he popped, his past could always come back. It didn't matter how satisfied he was with being normal, his past would always come back.
He should be mad at those inhuman fuckers, pissed even, as he knotted his tie.
He took a deep breath.
His anger was coming back.
It felt uncontrollable.
He didn't want to shift again.
He didn't want to go to dinner either, but there was nothing he could do. He was done running. It got him nowhere. Absolutely no where.
At least she hadn't walked in.
He would have puked and fainted, like a night where he consumed too many Jack n' Cokes.
He had shifted to the point of hating her. Especially after he left. He didn't know if he hated her for how she played them, or for the fact that she had him.
Because he was long over the fact he was bi.
There was nothing like a good pair of tits.
But there was also nothing like a big, thick dick.
He'd admit it if you asked, but he didn't broadcast.
But never before had he felt the razor sharp butterflies he felt when putting on his shoes for tonight's date.
This was something new.
He was going to get laid tonight.