Killer Queen

by Serene Franklin

  Bryan held up his fist, which I bumped with mine. “There’s my Mac. I missed you, dude. When are you going to tell him?”

  “Right now—well, whenever he gets home.”

  Bryan sat up, and I went to stand, only to be pushed back down. “Hold up. I dig your gusto here, but please go shower and shave first. Eli is too polite to tell you you’re a mess, but I meant it when I said you looked like shit.” The corner of his mouth lifted into a half grin, and his eyes shone.

  “Fine. I’m using your electric razor, though.” I jumped up with renewed spirits. I wasn’t under the delusion that my confession would change Dove’s mind, but I hoped it would allow us to be able to move past the horrible place we were in.

  “By all means,” Bryan said as the door opened.

  Eli and Prince had returned from what I guessed was a short run, given the color on Eli’s cheeks. I changed my course from the bathroom to the front door and planted a giant kiss on Eli’s cheek. “Thank you,” I said to him before running for the bathroom, dodging Bryan as he tried to grab me. I locked the door behind me, taunting Bry as he demanded I unlock it. Yeah, it was good feeling like me again.

  I’d waited for about two hours before Dove came home. His eyes widened when he saw me sitting on one of the island stools with my arms crossed, angled toward the door. “Hi,” he managed, voice tight and uncomfortable.

  I wasn’t deterred. I knew this was what I had to do, and nothing could shake me. I’d already had my heart broken; all I could do from here was heal—and hopefully fix my friendship with Dove in the process. “Hey, kiddo. Do you have a minute? There’s something I’ve needed to say to you for the past few weeks.”

  Unlike the first time I called him that, he seemed almost happy at the nickname. He nodded and took a seat at the stool next to mine that I motioned to. “I want you to know that what I’m about to say isn’t an attempt to sway you one way or the other, and I apologize if it upsets you.”

  His forehead creased, though he nodded again and remained silent. “That day you told me you wanted to end our arrangement was one of the worst days of my life. I was too fucking blind and ignorant to realize what everyone around me already knew. Grams got through to me, and it hit me hard that what I felt for you went beyond normal feelings for a friend or fuck buddy.” His back stiffened, and I licked my lips, determined to lay it all out for him. “I came home with the intention of telling you that I might be in love with you. It was brand new, so I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. Now I am. I haven’t been in love before, but I know this has to be it—you’re it for me, Dove.”

  I flicked my gaze down at my shaking hands for a moment, clenching them into fists. When I looked back up at Dove his cheeks were flushing, and he stared back at me, his eyes burning me up. “I’m so fucking gone for you,” I admitted, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat and brushed my nose, willing myself not to cry. I wasn’t trying to guilt him with an overly emotional display. “I respect that the same isn’t the case for you. I hope we can get back—”

  The screeching of the stool across the floor cut me off. Dove was up and walking past me in a flash. He looked mad as hell. I got up and took two steps toward him before I stopped myself. He spun around and pinned me from across the room with those pale, crystal-blue eyes. His chest heaved, and his lips parted. The air in the room felt charged. I half expected him to come at me with his fist clenched—then he did. He charged me; only instead of punching me he jumped up, and wrapped himself around me. My hands were on him just as quickly as his lips crashed against mine. He worked his hands through my overgrown hair as his tongue worked its way into my mouth, claiming me. Too caught up in the moment—in him, I forgot to breathe. I pulled back on a gasp, enjoying how his lips had gone from their usual pink to a deeper shade. He rubbed his cheek along my freshly trimmed jaw, and I thanked Bryan for going all “dad” on me and forcing me to shave.

  “Is this really happening?” he asked, his eyes closed and forehead resting against mine.

  “I think that’s my line.”

  He laughed, though it came out more like a shudder. “I mean it. Tell me this is real.”

  I tilted his chin up, and he opened his glassy eyes. “I love you. This is very real for me.”

  His lips trembled as a few tears stained his cheeks. “Say it again.”

  “I love you, Dove.”

  “I love you too, you fuckin’ dope,” he said before he kissed me again.

  I matched his ferocity, and spun us around to set him on the counter. I brushed the backs of my fingers over his dampened cheeks and smiled. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mac. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was wrong, and I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” Fresh tears fell from his eyes, and I pulled him against me again. “Don’t let go—not yet,” he whispered in my ear, his arms wrapped tight around my neck.

  “You kidding? I’m never letting you go now.” I picked him up and carried him down to my bedroom, gently laying him on my bed. I lowered myself over him, thrilled when I felt his hands on me, pulling me closer to him.

  “I want you,” he rasped before he bit my earlobe. “I want you so fuckin’ bad.” He worked a hand into my jeans, cupping my balls and stiffening cock.

  I shuddered and rutted against his hand. I pushed myself up so I was straddling his hips, and took off his shirt and then my own. I ran my hands over every inch of exposed skin I could find, mapping his body and committing it to memory. My fingers stilled when I reached the button on his jeans.

  “I haven’t been with anyone else,” I said, my voice thick with a consuming need for him.

  He kissed my fingertips then smiled. “Neither have I.”

  I nodded, a tear or two finally falling from my eyes. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d needed to hear those words, though Dove seemed to know how important they were. He sat up then brushed my tears away with his thumb before he kissed my closed eyes. My hands skimmed up his bare sides until I had his copper curls between my fingers. I closed the short distance between us, kissing him gently and without any urgency. We lay back down and shed the remainder of our clothes, enjoying the feel of skin-to-skin contact.

  When I finally entered him, it was slow and somehow so much more than just sex. For the first time in my life, I made love to someone. Our fingers were entwined and our lips never separated as we moved together in a slow rhythm. Dove bit my bottom lip, moaning against my mouth as he came. Two more deep, measured thrusts, and I was spilling into him as my orgasm rocked through me from my toes to my fingers locked with Dove’s.

  We panted, our short breaths mingling, and I couldn’t help but smile. I had Dove back. In a way, I had him for the first time. I knew what it felt like to lose him, and I was determined to never let that come to pass again. I kissed him again then slowly pulled out and lay down next to him. He rolled toward me, resting his head on my arm, and was asleep within minutes.

  We had a lot to talk through, but it could wait until morning came. I was exhausted, and clearly Dove was right there with me. Pulling him closer, I kissed the top of his head and let myself drift into the first peaceful sleep I’d had in what felt like years.

  A few days later, I called for a family dinner and requested that Grams make the trip over for it. Dove and I had had plenty of time to talk through our feelings, and things couldn’t have been better. I wanted to introduce him to my family as my boyfriend. My partner. It still sounded crazy to me, but in a good, exciting way.

  Dove had called Eve the morning after we made things official. I heard her happy scream from across the room, and had received a threatening text from her moments after they ended their call. She’d promised me bodily harm, potentially resulting in the loss of life if I broke his heart—the same thing I’d send to any guy dumb enough to try to date my baby sister. I sent her a snarky reply to rile her up, though I had every intention of sitting her down and reassuring her that I was serious about her brother.

  I
sat on my childhood bed, leaning back on my arms as I watched Dove. He stood in front of my closed door, eyeing my huge Jean Grey poster. “What’s up?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

  I sat up, reaching an arm out for him. He came to me and sat in my lap—something he’d started doing a lot. I liked it. A lot. “What’re you thinking?”

  “I shouldn’t have cut my hair. I knew how much you loved it. I was being a stubborn arse.”

  “You did what you thought you had to. It’s all right now. Besides, I like the short do. It’s cute as hell, and now”—I ran my fingers through his soft, loose curls—“I get to do this whenever I want. If you want it long again, you can grow it back out.”

  “Do you have any idea how long I’d been growing it out?” he whined.

  “Hopefully a long-ass time. I want to be around when it’s that length again,” I replied with a wink. He smiled, though it faded faster than I liked. “What else is bothering you?”

  “You love Jean Grey,” he said dejectedly. He motioned to his hair, sighing. “I don’t look like her anymore.”

  Uuf. Be still, my heart. “I didn’t fall for you because you looked like a fictional character.” He narrowed his eyes at me, quirking an eyebrow. “Fuck, okay. So I was super attracted to your hair in the beginning. Cut me some slack—I love your feisty ass now. Besides, you still look like Jean Grey. Uncanny X-Force volume 1, issue nineteen-point-one: The Age of Apocalypse. Jean Grey has the exact same haircut as you do right now, and I’m being honest when I say that I like it better on you.” I snuck a quick kiss while he flushed and laughed.

  “Jaysus, you’re such a nerd.”

  “But you love it.”

  “I love you.” He held the back of my head while he leaned in to kiss me. He drew my bottom lip between his teeth, gently tugging and making me moan for more. My hands skimmed under his T-shirt, toying with the line of hair leading under his waistband.

  “Do you love me enough to go as Jean in her classic green and yellow bodysuit for my Halloween birthday bash? A guy only turns thirty-two once.”

  “I’ll consider it if you keep kissing me until your parents get home.”

  My answer came in the form of a smile before I grabbed his waist, flipping us so Dove ended up on his back on the bed. I gave him exactly what he’d asked for, and I vowed to myself that I always would.

  Epilogue

  Dubhlainn

  One Month Later

  It was the morning after Mac’s birthday, and my fuckin’ head felt like it was going to explode. Unlike the holy show of the last time I’d gone to a club with Mac, this time I’d had fun. Too much fun if the knocking in my head was any indication. I’d known in the moment that I was overdoing it—I just hadn’t cared. I wore the fuckin’ bodysuit, and even padded it and did my makeup. Turning it into a full-drag look gave me never-ending confidence, which contributed in me getting fuckin’ mangled. The main cause for my hungover state? Mac. He’d surprised me by wearing some spandex of his own—he went as Cyclops. His muscled body filled the suit out bloody sinfully. I couldn’t keep my hands off of him, and since he was the birthday boy, everyone had been buying him—and me by extension—shots.

  I don’t remember how we got back to our flat. I blacked out way before then and woke up when Mac was stripping me of my suit and completely unsexy padding. He hadn’t seemed to mind. He took me for a ride then we passed out in a drunken, sweaty heap of limbs and spandex.

  A bang followed by cursing in the kitchen had me grinning. I sat up to find painkillers and a glass of water on the nightstand. My grin widened, and I took the tablets before pulling on some pajama pants and one of Mac’s zip-up sweaters. It was far too big on me, which made it perfect for the dip in temperature.

  The first thing that caught my attention in the kitchen was the absence of music. The second was my fella at the open fridge, slightly bent over in nothing but his kex—looking like the fine thing he was with that gorgeous, round arse on full display. The third thing I noticed was that there was a large blanket draped over the living room furniture—and some of the kitchen chairs were missing.

  “What’s going on out here?”

  Mac spun around, and set the milk on the counter next to two bowls of Froot Loops. “Oh, great—you’re awake.” He closed the distance between us then gave me a quick peck on the lips while he groped my arse. He pulled back, eyeing his sweater hanging off of me. “I must say, I really do love it when you wear my clothes, although I cranked the heat up, so you might get too hot if you don’t get naked.”

  “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

  He hummed, grinning wolfishly down at me. “You’ll come to see things my way soon enough.” He kissed the tip of my nose then walked back over to the counter. “To answer your question, I got up early to make breakfast, only to find that I’d forgotten to buy groceries. You made me a list before class yesterday, I know, I know. I’m sorry. I hope Froot Loops are okay for now—we can go out for lunch or supper if you want to.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “This is perfect.” This is us. I didn’t need anything more than this.

  Mac’s bright smile made him even more handsome. He poured milk into each of the bowls then handed me one. “How’s your head?”

  I groaned. “Good call with the painkillers this morning. Thank you.”

  “I figured. Which is why I built us a cozy blanket fort to block out the light.”

  “A blanket fort?”

  He stared at me blankly then nodded toward the living room. “Do you not build blanket forts in Ireland?”

  “I can’t speak for the entire country, but no, I never have.” I looked at the living room again, and noticed that the coffee table had been pushed aside. It stood to reason that the kitchen chairs and stools must be supporting this blanket fort.

  “Good God. Okay, move it along, kiddo. Get in there.”

  Mac held my bowl for me while I knelt down, lifted one of the edges of the dangling blanket, and crawled under. I was shocked to see he’d set up a dim lantern and padded the floor with the blankets and pillows from my bed. Remembering he was waiting for me, I reached back out and took both bowls, handing one back to him once he was inside sitting next to me.

  He took a bite of his cereal, while I was too transfixed by how something so simple could feel so… intimate. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s great. It feels like we’re in our own little private world. I’ve got everything I need—you even brought the cribbage board and a deck of cards.”

  He smiled at me again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and I hoped he’d never stop showing me that smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

  We finished our breakfast while chatting over our friends’ antics last night. Mac had invited Taylor, who also showed up in full drag as Diana Ross. The secret was out to everyone that I was a drag queen, though everyone was nothing but supportive.

  “You’ve got some great friends,” I said, settling between Mac’s legs. I was turned toward him with my arm around his neck and my legs bent over one of his.

  “They’re pretty awesome dudes.”

  “What about Blake?”

  “She’s an awesome dude too. ‘Dude’ knows no gender in my vocab,” he replied with a smirk.

  “Of course you’d say that.” A thought suddenly occurred to me. I was sure I already knew the answer, but I still needed to ask him. “Do you usually spend Christmas with your family?”

  “Yeah, Christmas is a pretty big holiday for the Buchanan clan. Cousins, aunts, and uncles come out of the woodwork and all that. Why?”

  “I was thinking about going home this year. My granny is getting older, and I’d love to see her again. I’d… also like for you to meet her.” I held my breath waiting for his reply.

  “You want me to come to Ireland with you next month?”

  “Aye, I do. I understand if you can’t or would rather—”

  He literally
pinched my lips closed and chuckled. “Don’t be silly. I’d love to go with you.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t hide the joyful lilt in my voice, nor did I want to.

  “Of course.” He said it like it was the most obvious answer. “You’re my sexy prince and my killer queen; you’re everything. I’ll gladly go anywhere with you.”

  I kissed him fiercely, ready to push him down and tear off my clothes—just like the bastard said I would. Damn him.

  “Wait,” he said seriously. “Does this mean I get to be introduced to a horde of new people as your ‘fella’? Because that was pretty awesome last night.”

  I cringed as memories of me completely langers came flooding back. I’d done just as he’d said, and told anyone who’d listen that Mac was my fella, or sometimes even my handsome fella. My embarrassment melted away when I saw that he was still smiling, not in a teasing way, but completely serious.

  “Aye. I’ll make sure everyone on the Emerald Isle knows yer mine.” I played up my accent for him, knowing it was a guaranteed way to get him going.

  Mac flipped me onto my back, attacking me with kisses and caresses. He unzipped my sweater, and flicked his hot tongue over one of my nipples, making me moan in pleasure. As he slowly worked me over, I greedily pawed at him, wanting more. He gave me everything I wanted and more—he always did. Every day with Mac guaranteed laughter and shenanigans, and I couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow held for us.

  Also by Serene Franklin

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to all the usual suspects, and Clare. Dove wouldn't have been as Irish without you.

  About the Author

  Serene Franklin lives in Halifax (Nova Scotia, not California), but has fallen in love with Chicago through research and writing. She has a political science degree, and—more importantly—an adorable and mildly irritating Goldendoodle named Tai.