Page 2

Chapter two

Jake

I love Hallow’s Cove late at night. The bustle of Main Street during the day fades into something much more calm. It’s the perfect time to do a little dumpster diving.

It never ceases to amaze me how many perfectly good things people in this town throw away. “Broken” electronics that can easily be fixed. Brand new clothes with the tiniest mark on them that comes right out when you use the right stain removal techniques. Hell, one time there was an entire birthday cake still sealed in its plastic clamshell. Sure, the horn on the unicorn decoration looked like a dick, but it was delicious.

I should probably be angry about how wasteful the citizens and visitors to Hallow’s Cove are, but I’m reaping the benefits, so it’d be a little hypocritical to care.

I’m getting started late on my dumpster rounds tonight since Gabe’s game ran a little longer than usual. I’ve tried asking the stubborn gargoyle to change our D&D night to anything other than the night before trash pickup day, but I’m “not coming consistently enough to warrant changing the meeting time.”

The whole reason I skip game night a lot is because of said meeting time, but I can’t tell the group that. I don’t tell anyone about my nocturnal secret because dumpster diving is illegal, and I don’t know if I can trust even my closest friends to not narc on me.

As I leave the warm glow of the gaming store, I slink into the shadows when I’m sure the coast is clear. Ducking behind the dumpster next to the shop, I shrug off my backpack and strip out of my clothes. Gabe would be pissed if he knew I was getting naked outside his shop, but it feels silly to walk back to my place just to drop off my stuff. I’ll circle back here when I’m done with my reconnaissance.

The wind tonight is bracing, but I only feel it for a moment before I shift into my raccoon form. Like a lot of other shifters, my raccoon side—who I’ve named Beans—is almost a separate entity living in my head alongside my regular thoughts. But unlike some other shifters I’ve talked to, our thoughts are often exactly the same.

We agree on pretty much everything. We both love digging through trash, we both love to eat, and we both are tenacious when motivated. Sure, Beans tries to eat some things that aren’t advisable for my constitution, but whatever. Aside from some occasional digestive issues, I can rely on that side of myself without worrying he’ll mess things up .

Or at least, I thought I could.

Things tonight start out fine. I make my circuit of each shop’s dumpster and trash cans. Beans accidentally topples over the bin outside the cafe, and we have to flee before eating any of the muffins we found in there.

Come back for them.

Beans’s thoughts are rarely strong enough to be an internal voice separate from my own, but he cares so much about these muffins that he needs to make his wishes known. I soothe his frustration by mentally agreeing that I’ll get them later. They did smell delicious.

We get to the dumpster between my shop and the bodega next door, and that’s when things go sideways. Usually, I don’t bother checking that one out in raccoon form since it’s so close to home, but Beans makes a beeline for the dumpster.

Smells good. So good. Need. Need it.

I can’t help agreeing with my raccoon. Something out here smells incredible. Like nothing I’ve ever scented.

I climb up the side of the dumpster, letting Beans’s nose lead the way. Before I can even scan what’s inside, Beans leans in and grabs something pink, holding it between his paws in triumph. When he brings it up to his face, it’s like I’m struck by lightning.

Yes. Perfect. Mine.

The all-encompassing thought startles me back into my hybrid form, and I tumble off the edge of the dumpster onto the hard pavement below, a flash of pain accompanying the shock of what’s flooding my mind .

The pink fabric drapes over my face as I lie there prone, and my cock surges to life. I inhale greedily for a long moment, the fabric impossibly soft against my skin and the heavenly scent and sense of rightness overwhelming any sense of self-preservation.

A light in the apartment above the bodega flicks on, and finally my brain comes on board enough for me to scramble out of sight behind my shop.

Dumpster diving is bad enough, but being caught outside my neighbor’s window completely naked with a hard cock is grounds for arrest.

In my hurry, I trip over the stack of crates I have by the back door, making an ungodly racket as I do, but I punch in the code and get inside, slamming the heavy door shut behind me.

Shit. What the hell was that?

I look down at my hand, only to realize with a distressing jolt that I left whatever caused the frenzy back in the alley.

Beans claws at my mind, desperate to go back for it despite the commotion we caused. For the first time in my life, he’s so insistent that he forces the shift. I’m barely present in myself as I turn back to my raccoon form and he takes over.

Need it. Mine.

I dart back into the alley on all fours, weaving past the jumbled mess of crates and heading toward the pink beacon next to the dumpster. The side door to the bodega opens up and light spills out into the alley, but Beans doesn’t care.

“What the heck is going on out here?” a warm, feminine voice mutters. I don’t have time to look at the source as Beans grabs the pink fabric and makes a break for it before whoever is speaking can stop him. He scurries across Main Street, fabric in his mouth.

“Hey! Come back here!” the woman shouts feebly after him, but he doesn’t care now that he has his prize. At least he’s not dumb enough to lead her directly back to our place.

We make it back to the game shop and after a brief internal struggle, I manage to take control again. I shift back to my hybrid form, panting from the exertion.

“What the fuck, Beans?” I mutter. He doesn’t reply in my mind, far too fixated on what we’ve retrieved.

I look down at his prize, opening up my fist to find a pair of lacy pink panties balled up in my grip. My dick leaks at the sight, and while Beans is usually silent when I’m aroused, he’s chanting “ mine ” over and over in the back of my head.

It’s a good thing the woman from the bodega didn’t follow us, because how the fuck am I supposed to explain that I stole what I presume is her underwear? Sure, it was in the trash and therefore fair game, but I don’t think that’ll matter. People in town already think I’m a weirdo. I don’t need to add panty stealing creep to that.

Against my better judgment, I bring the panties back up to my nose. My cock bucks, throbbing with need as the incredible musky scent washes over me again.

I tear the panties away from my nose and shove them inside my backpack, dressing quickly before anyone discovers me out here. There are a lot of shifters in Hallow’s Cove, but public nudity is very much frowned upon for those of us who have genitals that aren’t covered by fur or hidden inside our bodies when we’re not aroused.

Despite the bracing wind, I’m still hard as a rock beneath my joggers. I pull my hood up over my ears as I head back home, sticking to the shadows between streetlights in case my neighbor is still outside. Thankfully, she seems to have given up on finding the critter that nabbed her underwear, so I make it back to my shop without incident, going in through the storefront rather than trying to negotiate the toppled boxes out back or risk going through the alley again.

As soon as I make it upstairs, and into my living area, Beans is running around in my mind, begging for another hit from the panties. I wish I didn’t feel the same way, but I want to experience the thrill of their scent again, too.

Making sure the blinds are closed in my bedroom, I shuck my pants and retrieve the panties from my backpack. There’s the faintest voice in the back of my head, not Beans, my raccoon side, but Jacob, the responsible, upstanding man who warns me when I’m about to do something stupid or wrong. Right now, he’s whispering that I shouldn’t sniff the panties again. Telling me it’s creepy and weird and wrong. That I should take them back out to the dumpster, or better yet, burn them so there’s nothing left to tempt me.

Too bad regular Jake and Beans are far louder. With a pained groan, I bring the delicate fabric back up to my nose, letting out a shuddering sigh as the scent washes over me. Before I can think better of it, my tongue darts out to lap at the gusset and though it’s faint, the taste is just as incredible as the scent. My cock begs for attention, the tip wet and ruddy against the softness of my stomach.

I’ve eaten pussy before. Sucked a few cocks, too. But nothing in the universe can compare to the primal taste and scent infused in these pretty pink panties. It’s making my mind simultaneously fuzzy with lust and crystal clear with the knowledge that something is instinctually right and mine. It’s that potent combination that has me fisting my cock with one hand, pumping it in rough strokes as I hold the fabric over my nose and mouth at the same time.

It doesn’t take long before my orgasm approaches. Fuck, if I were at all in my right mind, it’d be embarrassing how little time it takes. There’s no mind left though—only need as I stroke my throbbing cock and lap at the lacy fabric until I come, thick white ropes jetting out of my dick like a fountain as I shudder through my release.

With a feeble groan, I collapse down onto the bed beside me, my body weak and limp in the aftermath of my orgasm. It takes all my energy to tug my shirt off over my head and use it as a makeshift cum rag so I don’t get jizz all over my clean comforter.

I lie there, stunned and more than a little confused by the events of the past hour. After a few minutes, my stomach rumbles, and Beans makes his presence known again after being silent while I had my frenzied jerk sesh.

Muffins .

I huff out a weak laugh. “No fucking way, dude. We’re not going back out there tonight. With my luck, you’ll find something else that’ll make you lose your mind.”

Beans grumbles, but doesn’t seem chastised at all. Instead he repeats his new favorite thing to say— mine —as I realize I’m still clutching the panties.

“I’m never going to be able to look my neighbor in the face now,” I mutter to myself, scrubbing my non-panty holding hand across my beard.

We haven’t even met yet. According to Brooks, my friend and local produce hookup, she took over running the bodega a few weeks ago while her aunts are out of town. I haven’t needed to stop in since I keep a stockpile of essentials at all times, and I’ve been busy with projects, so I didn’t think much of it.

Now, though?

How the fuck am I supposed to go get paper towels or some shit like that, knowing about my deranged behavior? What if I’m around her and Beans flips out again and tries to steal her panties right off her body? And what the fuck does it even mean that I’m feral for her scent?

There’s only one solution. I’ll have to avoid her until she leaves.