Focus and fight the urge

You focused and **** the lewd thoughts out of your mind. This isn't right, you keep telling yourself.

"Grace, I don't think you're in the right mind here." You were thinking about pushing her away, but you couldn't manage to do that without touching her breasts, and losing yourself to their softness. Keeping your mind clear was difficult enough already.

"But... I love this..." Grace opened her eyes and frowned in confusion. She kept moving forward. "I would love to taste you, for you to taste me... Aren't you going to satisfy our desires?"

"Grace, this is wrong..." It was harder for you to look away from her huge assets as she came closer. You stood your ground by leaning against the wall, but deep down you knew that it wouldn't last much longer.

"Not even a kiss?" She looked at you like an innocent puppy, with her eyes glistening with a hungry light.

Her lips were so close that you could smell the cherry flavor from her lipstick. There was a special aroma emanating from her that made you want to devour her, literally. You tried so hard to fight against the urge. You didn't know how long had passed, but you might proudly say that you'd won.

"No... That's not how it works." You replied as calmly as possible.

"Well, that's your loss..." She gave you a wicked smile before she finally backed down.

It was at this moment that the bell above the front door rang again. Someone came in.

"Grace? You here?" A male voice came from the main hall.

"Yes! A minute!" Grace quickly put her clothes back on. "Maybe you'll change your mind next time... James..." She whispered in your ear before she ran out.

You felt relieved the moment Grace went out of your sight. What's wrong with that girl? What's wrong with me? You were so sure that if you had loosened up, even for a single moment, you would have fucked this girl in every way possible. But why?

The talking voices outside were getting louder and clearer. Someone's coming. It seemed that you could only think about that later.

"Hello! I'm George, the owner of the shop and Grace's brother." A man with dark hair, dressed in blue, came to the shelves and greeted you kindly, reaching out his hand. You could tell from the wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes that he was much older than Grace, probably in his 40s. "James, is it? Nice to meet you. We don't have many customers, especially not a newcomer."

"Yeah, nice to meet you, too." You shook hands with him gently.

"So, you're looking for folklore and history, right? Not many young people like to learn about the past these days. What is it?" He took a glance at the book you were holding in your hand, "‘Tales of the Wolves'. The founding of this town. I've read it for 4 times."

"Do you believe the story?" You asked.

"Nah... It's a good story. Some of it might be real, but wolves are ferocious animals, not some super sentient or humanized beings." George laughed while shaking his head, "Still, the town's people seem to hold onto this legend tightly. Almost everyone loves wolves."

"You're not from here?" You frowned at his statement.

"Not exactly. I settled in this town around 10 years ago. Let's just say that the local legend hasn't grown on me yet." George smiled gently, "So, are you going to borrow the book? You can return it whenever you want. It's not like anyone else would like to read it."

"I was just going to ask. Thanks."

"Hey, would you like to have dinner with us tonight? My wife would definitely like to meet you, and my sister speaks highly of you." George leaned against the shelf with his arms open. "I'm good at cooking beef and fish. You're gonna love it."

Grace... The image of her cleavage and her weird smile flashed in your mind. It would be awkward to have dinner with her after what happened.

"I'm not sure. I came to the town with a friend. I don't know if she wants to come or if she has other arrangements for me." You replied uncertainly.

"It's okay. We're living just upstairs." George smiled casually and gave you his card, "Here. You can call me if you decide to come."

"Thank you."

"Alright, I should stop bothering you now. Enjoy your reading." George waved his hand and walked away.

You were all alone again between these fragile shelves and old books. You stared at the card in your hand, with George's name and phone number scrawled in a messy yet friendly handwriting. He seemed to be a really nice guy, but you were not so sure about his sister.

With the private time you thought about what happened. It wasn't like the time when you were compelled by Olivia's vampiric gaze. You didn't feel like being commanded by someone else, but rather being driven by some kind of primal arousal to act. What exactly caused this? Something supernatural was definitely behind all this, yet you had no clues.

You couldn't get the answers by merely thinking, nor from the book. But time flew by, and there was a date waiting for you. You took the book to the counter. Grace was nowhere to be seen, and George was sitting there quietly. He scribbled your name and the date in the ledger for your borrowing and gave you the same warm smile before you left.

As you pushed open the door, the bell above it rang once more. The sharp, clear sound seemed to have brought you back to the real world after a wild dream in the book shop.

You met Fran at the Orchid Garden restaurant on time.

"I thought you're going to show up in that nice dress you're talking about." You noticed that Fran was still wearing her same old blue dress.

"Nah. They said it was reserved for another customer, and she happened to come to the shop this morning to try it on." Fran gave you an easy smile. "I heard that she is the daughter of a local millionaire. Well, I'm not going to compete with someone that rich."

You had researched the town before you came, and you knew that there weren't many millionaires living here. The only one you knew was Leonard. His daughter... Could it be a coincidence?

"The lady you're talking about... Does she have long black hair? About 5-foot-3 tall and slim? Probably accompanied by a middle-aged man or an old man?" You asked.

"Yeah? Pretty much that... And the old man, too. How do you know?" Fran looked at you curiously for a few seconds, and she quickly realized why you were asking. "Wait, is she your client's daughter that you were talking about? The one who was missing and returned by herself yesterday?"

"I think that's her, Shannon Smith. Did you notice anything strange about her?"

"Well, not much. Except..." Fran paused briefly, as if she was recalling the details. "The dress she bought couldn't cover a small scar on her left thigh, so she just shoved it in the box and left without putting it on."

A small scar on the left thigh? The scene where you desperately cut the werewolf's left thigh with a piece of rock flashed in your mind. Shannon came back to the mansion naked yesterday. Usually you would assume that she had encountered a terrible criminal, but another possibility came to your mind.

Could it, for God's sake, be a coincidence? Or was she the werewolf that attacked you that night?

You were thinking about that throughout the rest of the lunch. Fran looked at you worriedly, but she didn't interrupt. She knew you were thinking about something important and that was enough for her to leave you be.

When you finished your lunch and were about to leave, you received a phone call from an unknown number. You paused for a second, but picked it up anyway.

"Hello?"

"Hello... Is this Mr. James Wilson?" A young girl's voice came through.

"Yes. Who is this?" You haven't heard of this voice before.

Ah, Mr. Wilson. I'm Sherry, uh... Sherry Smith. We have... sort of met in my father's mansion..." Her voice was a little shaky, like she was scared.

"Smith... Oh, yeah, I remember you." The young redhead girl who was peeking at me behind the door? She's Leonard's younger daughter? You knew only a little about her, and you didn't expect a call from her at all. At least not at this time. You were curious.

"I overheard you talking to my father about werewolves or something. I have something to tell you about it... Can you meet me at the cafe on Maple Street at 3 this afternoon?"

This afternoon, huh? The clinic was about to open this afternoon, and you wanted to get the rabies vaccine as soon as possible. If you were going to meet Sherry, you would have to postpone your vaccination to tomorrow morning.