The ring burns in my hand the whole way home, growing heavier and hotter. I can't bring myself to put it in my pocket because of an overwhelming and completely irrational fear of losing it. The further I walk, the more paranoid I feel, certain I'm being followed, equally certain that someone is after the ring.
By the time I get to my apartment, I practically run up the stairs, bolt down the hallway, and fumble with the key in the lock until I'm inside. I slam the door shut behind me, jamming the bolts in place. I pant for breath, back braced against the door, ring clutched to my chest.
After a few moments, my heart rate slows, and I push away from the door with a shaky inhale. I look at the ring in my hand and let out a low, uneven chuckle. Silly bitch, what's your problem?
The ring makes a solid clunk sound as it lands on the side table near the door. I stop only a few steps into the room and snatch it back up. Even just leaving it unattended in my locked apartment feels too much like inviting someone to steal it.
It warms and grows heavier in my hand again. Once more, just like that wild moment in the alley, the urge to press it to my lips hits me hard. It's almost as if the ring wants me to put it in my mouth. Which is freaking ridiculous because rings don't want things. Especially to be sucked and licked like a lollipop.
What the fuck kind of jewelry inspires an overwhelming oral fixation?
Incubi jewelry, that's what. Shit. I should have just left it in the alley and let Jaerinn find it for himself. If he wasn't already there. Watching me. With those creepy—ha, no—alluring glowing amber eyes. Always watching from that dark corner, shrouded in shadows I'm convinced aren't natural, obscuring his features except for those glowing amber orbs, like pools of yellow light, intense and hot as the sun.
Jesus. I shake myself and squeeze the ring in my hand until the edges cut into my palm. When had I started to have such intense thoughts about Jaerinn?
Oh come on, Clara, says that betraying small voice. When haven't you?
Okay, yes, he's hot; of course he is, he's a fucking incubus. I giggle at the thought of a fucking incubus because literally what else are they gonna do? It's all they were spawned for and while I keep a careful distance, I'm not immune to their charms.
I found that out the hard way. So hard.
Wake up Clara! I realize I've been standing the in middle of my living room, ring pressed to my lips once more, gazing off into the middle distance. I don't even know how long I've been standing here. I look at my phone. Five after four. Jesus. I've been standing here for ten minutes drooling on Jaerinn's ring.
Fuck my life.
YOU ARE READING
The Ring
ParanormalClara is just your average human working in your completely non-average supernatural tavern. She holds her own and enjoys her regulars, who mostly behave themselves. But one regular in particular has done nothing but stare at her for almost an entir...
