Page 18 of Tentacles for Christmas

Rowen Finley was meant to be my guy.

Now to convince him. I didn’t think it would take much work, based on how eagerly he’d clung to me before saying goodnight. Still, Rowen needed things to be slow.

A coffee was slow, right?

Walking past the marina, along the path Rowen showed me the night before, I took in the trees clinging onto the last of their leavesbeside evergreens filled with chirping birds. A pair of squirrels paused on their chase up a thick trunk to chitter at me.

Even the wildlife was in a good mood, the lake rippling with a light breeze. I tugged my scarf tighter as I rounded the corner to reveal Ship Shape.

Sipping the macchiato I’d made myself, because my caffeine habit was in full force due to my job, I ambled past the shop built into the hill using the movable pier. It seemed like a cool way to block the water entrance while still enabling Rowen to pull boats in and out. I wanted to ask him more about the business. Honestly, I wanted to know everything about Rowen. He could probably read me a manual on fixing a boat motor and I’d be riveted.

Approaching his houseboat, the sound of lake water lapping and birds chirping covered anything else. There wasn’t much traffic noise from the road, being Sunday morning, but I could pretend we were in the middle of nowhere. Maybe Rowen would want to try more kissing, since neither of us had work. I’d be down for some over-the-clothes petting if he was willing.

When I reached the boat, I had to pause. Did one climb onto someone’s houseboat and knock? I’d had neighbors in the marina call out hellos, but no one had knocked on my door besides Eddy, but he used to own the boat and was my boss. I could call out for Rowen, though after sharing a kiss, I didn’t think it would be too intrusive to try his door.

A groan from Rowen’s place had me stopping with my foot on the edge of the walkway. The side window was open, despite the chill in the air, and it sounded like Rowen was in pain.

Making my way towards the window. I peered past the fluttering curtains to an image I couldn’t quite comprehend. From my angle, I could see the top and side of Rowen’s head, his hair a mess and obscuring part of his face. He looked to be grimacing, his jaw tight.

His eyes were screwed tight as he groaned again. But that wasn’t what had me frozen.

The sheets were half-off, revealing Rowen’s muscular arms and pale upper chest…fading into red arms.

“Tentacles,” my brain helpfully supplied. That was impossible. The coffee must not have hit my bloodstream yet. Was I dreaming?

His human hands were stroking one of the tentacles and I realized his grimaces and groans were actually pleasure, not pain. Maybe Rowen had some type of sex toy? One that covered his lower half. His legs were probably just hidden under the sheets.

“Cam!” He cried out, throwing his head back on my name and his body stilled.

Did he need help? Maybe what I’d reinterpreted as pleasure was actually a monster attacking him. And I was standing here watching. My dick was hardening in my pants, my body heating in inexplicable arousal, while Rowen was begging me to help.

“Rowen?” I called out, not sure what I was hoping for in response. Maybe a request to call the police or some type of explanation. Instead, the tentacles I hadn’t noticed teasing his nipples flicked them as Rowen moaned again.

My dick twitched, clearly reading the action as an impending orgasm. I could only gape in shock and Rowen grunted out a command, “Cum for me.”

The tentacle in his hand pulsed as a white fluid seeped out between his fingers. Rowen’s body twitched and I gasped at how beautiful he looked. I was intruding, not just on some kind of kinky moment, but he hadn’t given me permission to look in his window and watch him get off.

“Fucking fuck,” I muttered, stepping back onto the dock with a stumble. Rowen’s latte spilled over my fingers and I hissed at the slight pain from the hot liquid. Bending to set his cup and my empty on the pier, I stood to run away. “Holy fuck.”

“Cam?” I heard distantly, glancing back to find no one there. Rowen hadn’t seen me in the window. He might not have even heard me. I just needed to get out of sight before he came outside.

Making it to the far side of the shop, I heard the sound of bare feet slapping on wooden planks had me turning to find Rowen running up the dock in nothing but a pair of plaid boxers.

“Cam, wait!”

Rowen’s pale skin was on full display, no tentacles in sight, when he caught up to me. My first thought was that he had to be so cold, the temperature hovering around freezing as the sun slowly rose over the lake.

“How are you not shivering?” I asked, not running further because I was worried he’d gotten frostbite or something.

“Can we,” Rowen asked, pausing even though he wasn’t panting like I was. Despite my confused and concerned state, I couldn’t help appreciating his broad shoulders, a smattering of dark red hair across his chest. Rowen was muscled in the way men who used their hands for a living were. His stomach was soft, a happy trail leading to thin fabric, which was his only barrier to the temperature.

Shaking my head, I cleared my wandering thoughts and narrowed my eyes. “Can we do what? Put more clothes on?” I snarked back incredulously.

Rowen rubbed his beard and looked down at my feet. “Can we go inside and talk?”

My head buzzed with overstimulation, so I took stock of my senses. The birds were still chirping, the lake still creating a natural white-noise, and I wanted answers.

“Fine,” I conceded. “But only because I don’t want you to die and come back to haunt me.”