Martin Marty Beakman finds himself entranced by a bearded, cloaked stranger in a coffee shop, Raymond. Although he feels like a stalker, he returns again and again until he eventually figures out a pattern. When Marty is confronted by his brother Matthew regarding his actions, he admits his attraction to someone he’s never even spoken to. After his brother encourages him to change that, Marty follows Raymond in an attempt to do just that. Instead, he sees something almost unbelievable…Raymond removes his cloak, spreads wings, and flies into the night. When Raymond, out of the blue, contacts Marty online, will he give in to his desire to learn more about the guy? Or, will the strange sight the evening before keep him from seizing the opportunity?
More From A Paranormal’s Love
The soft shuffle of the bearded stranger’s steps drew Marty’s attention. He watched the guy move closer toward him, stopping to stand at the pick-up counter. Marty really wanted to hear the man’s voice and swiftly struggled to find something to say.
“Hey, man,” Marty finally called. “Nice trench. Is it waterproof?”
A dark pink, kinda pointy tongue swept over the man’s bottom lip as he turned to face him. Marty’s cock twitched in his slacks. Damn, when was the last time he wanted to suck someone’s tongue? Not to mention, never, never had he ever been attracted to a lean male with a beard…but here, he was practically panting for the stranger.
“Thanks,” the stranger responded. “And, yeah. It’s waterproof.”
The man’s soft tenor belied his rough exterior…and caused a bead of pre-cum to ooze from Marty’s shaft. The stranger’s wide nostrils flared slightly. He reached up and slid his sunglasses down his nose just enough to reveal dark, dark brown eyes. There was no mistaking the lust filling the man’s gaze.
Marty found himself responding to that look. He started to rise. Ideas of where he could take the smaller man to peel off that coat and explore the body underneath flipped through his quickly lust-fogging mind. How would the man’s mouth taste? How would his beard feel against his own chin?
“Here’s your double caramel macchiato, sir,” chirped the barista, setting the drink on the counter near the man’s elbow.
The man started, parting their gazes. After a soft thank you, the stranger grabbed his cup, flicked his once again sunglass covered gaze toward Marty, and hustled from the room.
A stab of disappointment swept over him. What the hell just happened?
His brother settled next to him, a cup of coffee in hand, drawing his attention. “His name is Raymond Patterson,” he revealed. “And you’re right. He paid with an American Express black card. I hear ya gotta be loaded to qualify for one of those.”
“Then, why the hell does he dress like that?” Marty wondered out loud.
Matthew shrugged. “Ya got me.” Bumping his shoulder, he suggested, “Why don’t you go find out?”
“That’s a damn good idea,” Marty stated. He rose. Determination to figure out this attraction between them mixed with hope that he wasn’t too late to figure out where the guy went.
His brother followed him out the door. Once outside, Matthew gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “Once you track the man down and fuck him through the nearest mattress, get some rest.” He winked. “You can tell me and Logan all about it in the morning. I’ll be at the Cranston job to fix the electrical.”
Marty smiled and nodded. He knew he owed his brother an explanation and tomorrow would be soon enough to figure out what to tell him. Right now, he wanted to track down the man who piqued his—and his cock’s—interest.
Tossing his nearly empty cup in the garbage, Marty started jogging in the direction he thought the man—Raymond, according to Matthew—had gone. He peered down each alley as he passed them, his gaze searching the gloom for the shape of a man.
He’d just about given up hope when a figure in the distance caught his attention. He was already across a field at the far end of the alley. As he watched, he disappeared into the trees.
Confused about why Raymond would be heading into the forest in the middle of the night, Marty hesitated a few seconds to follow. Deciding he didn’t want to wait two weeks to get another chance to talk to the stranger, he booked it after the man. The long stride of his six foot four frame ate up the distance.
Marty squinted, peering through the gloom. Thinking he spotted movement through the trees, he hurried on. When he saw the flap of a cloak between trees, Marty knew he was on the right track.
Drawing close, Marty saw the man had stopped. Relieved, he slowed to a walk and sucked in great lungfuls of air, trying to catch his breath. He swallowed a couple times, working moisture back into his throat so he could call out a greeting. He didn’t want to startle the man.
To Marty’s surprise, just as he was about to shout, Raymond slid out of his trench coat. His jaw sagged in shock at the black body revealed to him. Just as he’d imagined, the man’s body was leanly muscled, shown off to great perfection by the loincloth the…man…wore.
A loincloth?
Continuing to watch, Marty just held in his gasp of shock when Raymond spread his arms. Skin—attached all along the underside of his arms—stretched in voluminous folds down the sides of his torso suddenly stretched taut by…ribs? A pair of skin covered ribs, jutting out along the man’s torso? The man’s legs were far shorter than any person’s Marty had ever seen, making Raymond look shockingly disproportionate.
Wait? Is that a tail?
Marty squinted through the gloom, trying to confirm what he thought he saw.
With his coffee mug clutched in one gloved hand and the cloak tossed almost carelessly over his shoulder, Raymond lunged forward and up…and he went up and up. His arms moved, making the folds of skin flap and catch the air like…wings!
Marty leaned heavily against a tree as he watched the man he’d been lusting after fly—fucking fly!—away. He had no idea how long he stood there, the tree supporting him, staring at where the man—Oh God, he’s not really a man, is he?—had disappeared.
Finally, the evening chill snapped Marty out of his stupor. He turned away and started back through the trees but not before he glanced once more over his shoulder.
