Frosting and Fur(in-Progress)

Chapter XI: Hackles

The American Diner was a small establishment able to seat thirty people comfortably. Tucked away at the very edge of Queens, the diner benefitted from Long Islanders and true New Yorkers alike. It wasn't fancy, but it was nice and cozy. Nyssa smelled the promising scent of well prepped food from the parking lot.

D'Angelo held the door for her, offering an opportunity to get another whiff of his pleasant cologne and a hint of his natural musk. He'd been a little down during their most recent phone calls. Clearly there were things on his mind. When he asked her to join him for a night out, Nyssa didn't need to oversell her eagerness. Angelo made her laugh and something about his cool energy soothed the wild things inside of her.

On impulse, she stopped in the foyer and kissed his cheek lightly. His eyes lit up and his sudden excitement sent a shock through her body. She moved to his lips and kissed him with much more passion. Angelo took hold of her waist and pulled her in close, causing their bodies to mimic their lips. They leaned into each other, the thought of him making her skin tingle.

A predatory rumbling filled her chest.

God, I want this man.

The couple kissed, their tongues exploring one another. D'Angelo's hand made its way down the small of her back until it reached her ass, where it rested, a gentle cupping weight. He gave her a light pinch and she playfully nipped his lip. He jumped, startled by the feel of her teeth. He might have moved away, but Nyssa held him tight. The coppery taste of his blood danced across her taste buds, taking over her thoughts. The desire to have him inside her was an all consuming thing.

The vibration of the phone in her back pocket jarred them out of it. Nyssa stepped back, needing some space between them. Staring into his bedroom eyes, she wanted to take him back home and peel his clothes off.

Fuck, it's like I'm in heat. She shook her head.

"I'm going to answer this," she said, struggling to tear her gaze away from his eyes and ignore the eagerness between her legs.

"I'm going to," he looked her up and down, running his tongue across his lovely lips, "get us a table so we can get something to eat."

Nyssa smiled and gestured for him to go ahead without her. She fished the phone out of her back pocket.

"Hello?"

"Nyssa, it's the Merigone Massacre!" Yaya answered. She sounded as if she were bouncing up and down.

"What? Yaya calm down." Nyssa could hear Zaneb in the background saying the same thing. "What the heck are you talking about?"

Nyssa watched D'Angelo through the foyer's glass doors. He laughed with the hostess, but his eyes kept returning to Nyssa. She blushed and gestured for him to give her one moment.

"The Merigone Massacre!"

"I got that part. What's that have to do with anything?"

"Remember I said D'Angelo's book felt so real it made my skin tingle?"

The mention of tingles made Nyssa think of lying down with Angelo, bodies hot and excited. Down, girl.

"Yaya, spit it out! I have to go."

"D'Angelo knows, and, when I say knows, I mean really knows. Slaves to the Moon is about the Massacre of the Fisher Coven, but he changed the names. Shut up, Zaneb!" Yaya moved away from the phone for a moment. "He changed the names, Nyssie. The Fisher Coven is House Merigone! And he doesn't just talk about it, he knows details... stuff the public doesn't know."