Just a Coffee
Sam was holding her coffee, trying to warm up, she fucking hated being cold. As she was getting ready to head out, a homeless man bumped into her, causing her to spill her drink on herself.
Yelping she brushed herself off. “Hey, are you alright?” She grabbed his arm, ignoring the way her panties felt tight and damp. She was more concerned about the fact she had dowsed him in coffee. “C’mon, let me get you a coffee.”
Great, just great! He’d gone and touched her, and she doubled the offense - even now he could sense the way his incubus instincts had affected her. Why did it always have to affect humans this way! Other species seemed perfectly able to deal with the wave of heat his body naturally put out, but humans were particularly affected.
But then she did the unexpected, and offered him a coffee. “Please,” he grunted, glad for the heat she reflected back to him now that they were touching, “Let me. I owe you one for your trouble.”
He pulled out a crumpled $10 note, and tugged her to the counter, plunking the bill on the wood to demand the clerk’s attention. He refused to think on just why he would care whether or not she knew he could afford the coffee - he was dressed as a bum, after all. He was blowing his disguise. But then, somehow right now it didn’t matter.
She reached out and wrapped her hand around his, not really caring where the money came from, just oddly wanting to touch him. Once they got their coffees, she tugged him to a table. “Stay and talk.” She gave him a grin and took a sip of her coffee.
“I’m Sam.” She offered her name with a smile. Now that they were sitting, she could adjust herself, and rub her legs together for some friction. “I just got off and you look like you could use some company, handsome.”