The next day, I get a text: "I need the ring back. Fuck. I'm sorry. We can't do this again. I love him." I knew what this was, and I'm not surprised she didn't. She texts an address. It's six stops on the Red Line, and then another mile's walk because that part of town doesn't like "the noise".

She shows up to the door after the first press of the doorbell, and I'm hit with that same lilac and honey smell. I fight to keep from reacting to it — the pure sense memory of how good she tasted making we want to take her right here. Right now.  
  
Neighbor and husband she loves be damned.

"Hey! Come on in!" She says, her voice edging on sharp.  
  
The smile she's wearing is different from the one she wore when I cradled her in my arms after.  
  
When she was content.  
  
This one is wrong. Fake. A lie I saw on her face a decade ago.

I shouldn't be here.  
  
What the fuck are you even doing, Kam? Hells in Heaven, you know better. "Don't stick your tail where it doesn't belong." It's a maxim for a reason.  
  
The couch I'm sitting on — sorry, the "chaise", as she's so quick to correct me — costs more than I take home in three months.

The water she hands me is infused with cucumber and ginseng. There's exactly three ice cubes. Everything here is so... perfect.  
  
Too perfect. The kind that only artificial things can be. None of this is her. None of this is the Tiana from last night.  
  
I feel the weight of the ring in my pocket.

"Thank you, for last night," she says in a quiet voice. "I'm... well, it was—"  
  
"—Maybe," I cut in, and then pause for a moment to take in a deep breath. "Maybe it's best not to talk about it."  
  
"Right. Yeah."  
  
We lapse into an uncomfortable silence, her guilt and my nerves sucking up the oxygen.

She talks first again. "Um, you came over here for a reason?" It's not accusatory. There's tears in her voice.  
  
"Right, yeah." Fuck, this sucks. I stand up and fumble around in my pants until I'm able to snag the ring on a claw. I lift it out, and it goes tumbling onto the teak flooring.

It rolls and then stops midway between us.  
  
Neither of us steps towards it.  
  
"You should pick it up," I say. I mean it sincerely, I think; but it comes out low and husky, and my tail flicks of its own libidinous accord. She catches the movement.  
  
Her face goes scarlet. "Oh..."  
  
She takes a step.

Tiana doesn't break eye contact as she moves, her hips swaying far too much. She keeps staring as she sinks to her knees. She whispers her transformation phrase while looking me dead in the eyes.  
  
We're doing this. Here. In her home. Neither of us can help it. Neither of us can stop, so I pounce.

God, it's better this time.

I swear she tastes sweeter as I envelop her up to her waist. She thrashes harder, groaning as my muscles contract tight around her. Fuck, she feels so good in there.  
  
It's so right. I feel so amazing. Nothing could—  
  
"Hey, hun? Can I ask you a question?"

"So these blinds you wanted. The contractor say—" His words die in his throat as he sees me. "You." There's a lethality to his words that I don't love.  
  
I swallow dryly, wracking my brain. What do you say when your tentacles are plowing a guy's wife in an interdimensional void space?  
  
"Hey."

From deep within me, Tiana has an earth-shattering orgasm. I feel it, too. It's every measure of restraint to not moan.

"Where's Ty?" Rory asks. His muscles are tensed, like he's preparing for a fight.  
  
"She had to go run an errand." Within me, Tiana comes undone again. "You know how it is."

Rory deflates. "Yeah. I keep telling her that she's put in her time, that she doesn't have to keep doing this. Someone else will take over, but she..." he trails off.  
  
Tiana fucks herself harder against my tentacles. "She's insatiable," I sigh.  
  
Rory lets out a dejected laugh. "Tell me about it."

I hang around and have a beer with Rory before I excuse myself. You're not really supposed to drink and consume. The ecstasy of it can make you woozy, forgetful.  
  
I'm halfway to the Red Line when I remember Tiana's still in there. I duck into an alleyway, and let her slip free.

"Wow..." she breathes, eyes half-lidded. I want to be mad about how close a call that was. How we really can't do that again. But all I can think about is what she looked like on her knees.  
  
And all I can do is hold her close, knowing we absolutely will do this again. 

And again. 

And again.