My nails are between my teeth like a conduit for the thoughts turning over in my brain. I don’t really want to go on my own, like I’ll be perceived as some weirdo human tourist.
He pauses a moment as he gathers a breath. That hint of a smile in his voice deepens as he suggests, “...I've got a coupon for two, if you like.”
Fuck. He knows the way I think. I feel weirdly soft and melty and warm under my bra, and that's a new symptom of horniness for me. Maybe we’re accidentally mate bonded or whatever, but I really like that he seems to know me, that he sees the little details that would go unnoticed by someone who cared a little less.
I stop short of telling him that of all people to get cosmically tangled up with, I’m glad it was him. That might be a little too genuine an emotion to have on company time.
8
The rest of the workday, I could barely think about anything but my not-date with Khent.
Because it wasn't a date.
It was more like after work drinks with some coworkers, totally platonic, a hundred percent about the group morale and departmental bonding. Except that it was just the two of us. And it would be inter-departmental. And there would be no bonding.
I was looking forward to it because I was ready to not look at my vibrator for a week. Maybe two weeks. To not constantly wonder if I was coming down with a regular human fever, or if it was just another flare up of the Blood Fever whenever my skin started to heat.
I'd thought perhaps he was just coping with the Blood Fever better, but this was totally the reason why. And if it worked on me too, then maybe getting through this would be a lot easier.
Clearly whatever these holistic practices were, they worked. As far as I could tell, Khent didn't seem nearly as affected by the Blood Fever as I was. At least, for as much as I was constantly pressing my thighs together, I hadn’t noticed him strategically angling a hard-on away from me. Which maybe was something I might have been on the lookout for after that video. Just professional curiosity.
After a few short emails (to my personal address, not my work one) we decided to meet in the lobby. I pressed the elevator button maybe a dozen times on the way down.
We took separate cars, of course, with me following him from the more metropolitan part of the city, to a part that was surprisingly surrounded by lush green park land.
The name of the place is in Orcish calligraphy, sort of blocky and sweepy at the same time. I think in a college ceramics elective I learned something about how Orcish calligraphy is done with a square of dyed clay repeatedly dipped into an herbal tea between letter strokes. We'd done a little unit on kneading the dye into the clay and trying to inscribe our badly made creations with the technique, but it was surprisingly difficult to manage.
Khent was waiting outside as I walked up the building steps. He held the door for me, and Evil Overlord, if that didn't make me shiver and warm again. No matter, this would soon be easier. There would be no more clutching my hands to myself to avoid climbing Khent like a tree. Or really, more like a boulder. He was definitely more boulder shaped.
As soon as we stepped inside, the quiet of the building washed over us. It was mildly humid and warmer than it was outside.
“Do you think I could write this off as a work expense?” I whisper to Khent, standing in line at the - spa? Sauna? Spauna? “What's this place called?”
He chuckles low in his throat a moment. “You couldn't pronounce it.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”