Introduction
He does eventually meet Maxwell Sharaf a hot brown-skinned god who he’s willing to have sex with to forget about his ex. After a night of passion, David leaves Max’s house before he wakes up, he loves what happened last night but he can’t seem to forget about his ex. He’s walking on the streets of New York when he gets shot in a robbery gone wrong. David dies.
But he doesn’t stay dead for long because he comes back to life but not as he was before. He finds out that he has super speed, super strength, and other supernatural abilities. He unconsciously goes to Max’s house because something is drawing him closer to Max. When he tells Max what has been happening to him Max explains that he accidentally turned David into a werecat. And Max is a werecat himself, a direct descendant of the goddess Bastet.
Max also tells David that he’s his mate and the beast within him wants Max. Max and David spend more time with each other while Max teaches David the basics of being a werecat. At the same time, some people want David dead because he’s not supposed to be a werecat, but Max and his family try to protect David and Max and David prove time and time that their love is stronger than any outdated law.
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About Author
Emi Captain
Chapter 1
David
Dancing and partying are my life, I’ve been in love with cheerful events since I planned my best friend’s birthday party when I was seven. People read novels and watch movies to escape reality. I host and attend parties to escape reality.
It doesn’t have to be a party. Maybe a room with loud music and food or alcohol like a club, club culture has been a part of me since I was sixteen, how did I get in those clubs underage? I had connections then, that’s all I can say.
I’ll be damned if I go to a corner to cry about stupid shit like being cheated on. Like I said, I party to escape reality, I drink, I dance, I listen to music to escape whatever has gotten me down or whatever evil wants to get me down and I’m not going to be crying over a bunch of loser traitors whom I trusted for years.
I wanted to surprise my boyfriend, Ryan by getting him dinner. I booked a table for the two of us, I wanted to surprise him because I thought that’s something a loving boyfriend would do. I went to his apartment expecting to see him doing push-ups or something but I caught him naked on the bed being fucked from behind by my best friend Elijah.
They tried to apologize but I yelled at them to just leave me alone and I stormed out of his apartment. The tears were coming out, they were about to burst out but I didn’t want it to. I hate crying I fucking hate it, it’s weak, it’s pathetic and I’m not going to whine because my best friend had his dick in my boyfriend’s ass.
I decide to go to the club, to have a drink, to dance, to find a hot guy to fuck and forget about Ryan and Elijah.
“Whoo!” I yell at the top of my lungs as I dance with a lot of thirsty shirtless gay guys, some are skinny, most have abs and one is a chubby guy whom I respect so much, I might just fuck him, I’ve never fucked a bear before. But not yet, dance now, fuck late. I need to get my energy up.
My parents didn’t migrate here for me to whine about boys, they wanted me to have a future. I didn’t get admitted to NYU for nothing I also worked hard for all I got. Yes, I did fall in love with Ryan, yes I stupidly thought I was going to have a future with Ryan, guess I was that stupid.
I met Ryan Freshman year at a party - because yes I had to go to my first party at college and I stained my white shirt with a strawberry punch and he took off his shirt and gave his shirt to me. And I had a feeling that he didn’t give me the shirt in the name of helping me but he just wanted to flirt with me.
He then asked me out, while shirtless and of course, I said yes, he was this hot god with a six-pack, nice grey eyes, short auburn hair, a sharp jawline, nice biceps, and a beautiful smile. His smile could be in all those toothpaste commercials. So yes I was compelled by his charm and beauty and I allowed him to take me out to dinner, I allowed him to kiss me before I walked into my room, I allowed him to ask me to be his boyfriend, I allowed him to buy me gifts, to fuck me, to tell me that he loved me, to trust him, to have sex with my best friend.
I feel like a fool but I try not to feel that way because I’m not supposed to think this much at a club, it makes no sense to cry in a club. Like my Latinx sister Camila Cabello said. “Ain’t no crying in the club.”
Fuck him and fuck Elijah! He’s whom I’m angry at the most and honestly fuck him. We’ve been best friends since we were kids and we’ve both dreamed of going to New York, I’ve had his back countless times just for him to stab me in the back by fucking my boyfriend.
Fuck him!
I dance to Charli XCX’’s song from her new album. I love her, I love music, I love dancing, I love this magical gay club. I try to look for a guy to fuck. It seems like everyone wants to have sex with the cute Mexican American guy. But I don’t want to fuck them all, I don’t like orgies or threesomes. I might be a party guy but I am still a fucking romantic and I fucking hate it. I hate it so much. I’m not a big fan of having sex with strangers.
But I am going to be a fan of that today.
“Baby, please I’m sorry.”
Oh hell no, how did he find me? Why is he here? And how is he everywhere at once? He’s everywhere at once. How?
As if having one Ryan Shipman wasn’t enough, I’m seeing four of them. I take a step back.
“Stay away from me,” I say as I move backwards. Am I hallucinating? It makes sense since I had too much to drink. Drunk or not I do not want to see him.
“Whoa!” I accidentally step on someone and the person is probably going to beat me up. I turn around to apologize but instead, I stand in awe of the angel standing before me. And no, it’s not Ryan I don’t think of him as an angel anymore. I think of him as a demon. But the guy standing in front of me is beautiful.
“Are you okay?” he asks with a smile. This man’s beauty is beyond explanation, only poets can write about his beauty, I can’t.
His skin is golden brown, his eyes are light brown I think he has those type of eyes that glows when the sun hits them, his hair is in a buzz cut, he’s a bit taller than me, has a diamond-shaped face and beautiful round lips I want to kiss right now. This man is a god.
“Hello? Are you still there?” he giggles and I think he knows I’m staring at him because I think he’s super hot.
“I’m-” I gag which means I want to throw up.
“Oh, okay, let's go.” He says as he quickly takes me to the toilet to spill my guts out.
I rush into the bathroom stall not caring if anyone is in there, thank God no one is, it’s empty and I throw up in the toilet.
“Ohhh.” I moan as I continue to spill my guts. Ugh, this is embarrassing, I finally found a guy to have sex with and I’m throwing up like an idiot. I’m sure he’s already gone. I wipe my mouth with my hand but I have to wash my face and wash my hands. I’m going home as soon as I leave this bathroom. Maybe my sadness has won and I’m going to be crying on my bed.
I flush the toilet walk out of the stall and head toward the sink but I stop when I see that that hot guy is still here.
“Oh,” I say covering my mouth with one hand and opening up the tap with the other. “You’re still here.” I begin to wash my face.
“I wasn’t going to leave you here,” he says with an adorable smile on his face. I don’t say anything. I just look at myself in the mirror. “Rough night?”
“The worst night. I caught my boyfriend cheating on me.”
“Damn, I’m sor-”
“With my best friend.”
“Damn! That fucking sucks.”
“Tell me about it.”
“But why would anyone cheat on you, you’re so fucking hot.” I give him a look and he raises his hands in surrender. “It’s true,” he says and I continue to stare at him. I look him up and down.
“Why do I have a feeling you’ve been staring at me since I got here?” I ask and he doesn’t answer he just puts on a creepy smile on his face and he waggles his eyebrows. Not only is he cute but he’s also the funny type, I don’t want to laugh, I don’t want him to make me smile.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say.
“And you came here to-”
“Find a guy to fuck to get over my ex.” I shrug.
“Oh, that’s straightforward.”
“You know what they say. If you want to get over someone you have to get under someone else.”
“Hmm, can I… be that someone else?” He asks me giving me a side eye. I just look at him. “Or not, you don’t have to, but if you do we can go to my place and have some fun.”
“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” I ask putting my hands on my waist.
He snorts. “Do I look like a serial killer, do you genuinely think I’m a serial killer?” He asks and I look him up and down. And nope, he doesn’t look like one, serial killers usually look like incels and this guy is not one. He’s too hot to be a serial killer.
“Okay fine,” I say walking out of the bathroom, he follows me.
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About Author
Emi Captain
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