The memory of the man—dragon or whatever—hung heavy over me for the drive to see Luther's friend. It wasn't as if I'd forgotten about it, but suppressed it into the back of my mind, putting it into a file of my childhood imagination.
But once it'd been unlocked, and opened, it thundered into me like lightning. I'd never truly forget his piercing golden eyes or the span of his midnight wings behind him.
When no one noticed him, and my grandmother didn't take me seriously, I chalked it up to my imagination. A nightmare. Little did I know that he would follow me into my adult life, slamming me with dreams of s****l encounters.
I hadn't had the heart to tell Luther that I'd somewhat enjoyed his lure. His kisses before he took what he wanted. The charm of the man sent needles down my spine.
