A Tentacled Dream Come True Ch. 03

"Alice?" Though she was looking right at him, she barely registered him fumbling to tuck himself back in his pants -- or trying to -- as he reached with his other hand, and she jolted as it came in contact with her arm. This was not Shawn. It wasn't that asshole she'd run away from, finally extricating herself from a relationship she came to recognize as toxic. He had no place here, much less a memory of him!

"Rafe!" she managed to whisper, feeling lightheaded. Her hands found his wrist, and she held onto it, grounding herself with the feel of his warm skin under her hands.

This was most definitely not Shawn. Rafe was kind and considerate. He wasn't the kind of douche who'd browbeat you into giving him a BJ before forcing your head down when you got tired of it and needed a breather. She tried to focus on Rafe, forcing the memory of how Shawn had tasted and smelled out of her consciousness.

She hadn't been interested in dating since she'd escaped her hometown. And with plenty to fill her time like work or reading or figuring out how to live on her own, a boyfriend, much less someone like Shawn, had been at the bottom of her list of priorities.

She had been afraid of the idea of dating again and was sometimes surprised that she'd agreed to go with Rafe in the first place, but things had been working out well so far. Why did Shawn's stupid ass have to haunt her at this moment, when she was ready to move the fuck on?

"Alice?" Rafe whispered frantically, squeezing her arm.

"Just... give me a minute, ok?" she whispered, still clutching his arm. "It's... it's not you, really. I... I need some air."

It was almost comical how quickly Rafe sprung to his feet, his cock straining against hastily-arranged boxers as he took a step to the nearest window, sliding the glass panel aside before he returned to her side, brushing several locks of hair from her forehead. He cupped her face for a moment, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. She felt the frantic beat of her heart in her ears and had to remind herself to breathe.

For a moment, Shawn's leer came to the forefront of her mind as she stared at Rafe's concerned face. But as she stared at her companion's eyes, she found comfort in these dark depths.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked.

"Stay with me."

With obvious tentativeness, Rafe pulled her into his arms. She did not resist, and pressed her forehead against his shoulder, feeling his hand slide up and down her back. She wiggled up against him so that their chests were pressed together, hip against hip as she draped her legs across his own.

He was quick to take the hint, and embraced her more tightly, burying his face against her hair.

"I'm sorry if-" Rafe started to say, but she shook her head.

"You didn't do anything wrong. Really. Just hold me, please?"

His embrace tightened, and she let out a small sigh of relief and satisfaction, feeling her heartbeat gradually return to a normal pace. She inhaled the scent of his skin and soap, nuzzling her face against his throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

This was Rafe. Her Rafe. Comforting her, making sure she was at ease, even though he'd been plenty ready to...

It was her that broke the embrace, and she slid off his lap. As she sat back, he rested his hand on her knee, as if afraid to break physical contact. Almost shyly, she tugged the hem of her shirt down so it obscured her most private bits. Though she was no longer afraid, her panic attack left her shaken, as it always did, and her hands still trembled slightly.

"What happened?" he asked gently.

"Panic attack. I've had them before, it just takes a bit of time to get over one." She looked down at the fabric of the couch next to her leg. "I want you, believe me. I truly do."

"Don't worry. I believe you." He lifted his hand to stroke the side of her face, and she leaned her head into it. "Would you like to stay here tonight?" he asked.

She did not relish the thought of going home and spending the night by herself, so she gratefully nodded.

o0o

I got a negative comment on my last chapter of this story because the reader hated Anne Rice and apparently took offense at me mentioning it. I'm good with concrit and suggestions but it's pretty silly to dislike someone for them liking a certain author or not.

I liked Anne Rice a lot as a teenager and thought her writing was so cool and edgy, and I can see why she was so popular, but as I got older the issues in her writing became clearer to me. That didn't mean I couldn't still enjoy or respect her work -- at least some of her earlier work -- I liked the first four or five Vampire Chronicles books, and the first book of the Mayfair Witches was fun for me to read because I like family sagas.

Ms. Rice made mistakes and had hard points in her life as we all do, and she passed away before I finished this chapter. Say what you will, but there is much to enjoy, and learn, from her, regardless of whether you like her or not.

RIP Anne Rice. (1941-2021) Regardless of what became of your writing, you were definitely a highlight of my teen years.

Almost can't believe it's been over 2 years since the beginning of the pandemic. I can tell you that as an overworked essential worker, I'm sick of that shit. Please take care of yourself and one another, support workers' rights, and support Ukraine, the Uguhurs, the innocent citizens of North Korea, and any other people or groups that are being targeted, oppressed, and harmed.

Normally I try to keep politics out of my messages, but I think it had to be said. Let's hope 2022 (and onward) is better than the last couple of years.

-CultofStrawberry/StrawberryCatBeans