The Elixir Maidens: Scarlet

by Kate Hill

  Panting, they withdrew from each other simultaneously. Andrew flopped onto his back, his broad chest heaving in time with Greg’s.

  After a moment, Greg asked, “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “How did you get such callused hands.”

  “Do they bother you? I know it’s not the most pleasant feeling --”

  “Actually it is.” Greg took one of Andrew’s large hands and caressed the rough palm. “I love it. It’s just that I know the only way for us to get scars or calluses is by silver.”

  “Yes. I built up the scar tissue myself with a chunk of silver. I hate wearing gloves, so my hands would keep blistering and healing, over and over again, when I worked in the forge. This toughened them up permanently.”

  Greg raised an eyebrow. “Talk about dedicated.”

  Chuckling, Andrew said, “Strange you call that dedicated after what you gave up for your art.”

  “I didn’t give it up,” Greg snapped. “It was stolen from me. There’s a difference.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t mean to get angry.”

  “No, I shouldn’t have been so insensitive.” Andrew caressed Greg’s face. “May I spend the day here?”

  “Yes,” Greg replied, then wished he hadn’t spoken in haste. How could he sleep in the same bed as Andrew? What if he had one of his nightmares? How could he explain such fear to a man he scarcely knew, even if he did seem wonderful?

  “Good.” Andrew drew Greg into his arms.

  Resting his head against Andrew’s chest, Greg listened to his heartbeat and felt his breath gently fanning his hair.

  “Andrew, you said you had no plans for the holiday?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Would you like to spend it with me and the Maidens? Richie has a suite here at Burgundy Peak. He wanted a kitchenette so he can cook for his girlfriends, but it comes in handy for making Christmas dinner. We’re just going to eat and hang out.”

  “I’d like that,” Andrew said. “Thanks.”

  “Okay. Tonight we have a performance from ten to twelve, so we’ll meet at Richie’s around two.”

  “Great. That’ll give me time to go home and check on my forge. We’d better get some sleep. We’ll have a full night ahead of us.”

  Greg forced a smile. There was no way he’d get any sleep today.

  Chapter Two

  As the day wore on, Greg fought to stay awake while Andrew slept peacefully. In spite of the intimacy they’d just shared, he wasn’t yet ready to trust Andrew with his greatest vulnerability -- the nightmares that left him screaming like a terrified child.

  Still, today was Christmas and he needed to get some sleep so he’d be fresh to celebrate with his friends after the Maidens’ show downstairs in the club. Why had he agreed to let Andrew spend the day? He’d been all set to leave. Greg should have just let him go, yet he liked the sensation of this warm, powerful man asleep beside him.

  Shit, he’s handsome, Greg thought after turning on his side to better study Andrew. His eyes were closed, further accentuating his rather thick lashes. The tips of his fangs were visible through his slightly parted lips and he breathed quietly in a slow, steady rhythm. Covered to his waist, his gorgeous body was half exposed, the muscles of his broad-shouldered torso well defined even when relaxed in sleep.

  Though he dressed and spoke like a modern vampire, there was still something old-world about Andrew. Something incredibly primitive and masculine that sent a ripple of delight through Greg. Not only that, the man seemed sincere, a rare quality in anyone, young or old.

  Greg yawned and slipped out of the bed. He pulled on his robe and silently left the room. Barefoot, he walked to Richie’s room. After taking a moment to discern by scent that his friend was alone, even though the lingering aroma of his earlier female companions remained, he knocked.

  A moment later Richie opened the door. Running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair, he growled, “This better be good, Greg.”

  “Can I sleep on your couch?”

  “Another nightmare?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s up?” Richie said, then sniffed the air. His eyes widened. “You have company, or had.”

  “I still do. An oversized medieval armorer is asleep in my bed.”

  “Did he give you trouble? Need help getting rid of him?” Richie took a step into the hall, but Greg grasped his arm.

  “No. I asked him to stay.”

  Richie looked disgusted. “Then what the hell is the problem, Greg? Look, I had a very busy night and I need some sleep.”

  “Busy. I caught the scent of about three bimbos --”

  “Look, you knocked on my door, not the other way around. Why the hell do you want to sleep on my couch if you have a guy in your room?”

  “Because I don’t want to fall asleep when he’s there.”

  “He crazy?”

  “Doesn’t seem to be. Listen, I don’t want to risk having one of my most embarrassing moments in front of a guy I just met.”

  “You can fuck him, ask him to spend the night, but you’re afraid of how he’ll react to a little nightmare?”

  “Fine,” Greg said through clenched teeth. “I thought you would understand.”

  He turned on his heel and stalked down the hall, but this time Richie grasped his arm -- rather hard.

  “Get back here,” he grumbled. “You can sleep in my room.”

  “Thanks.”

  Richie dragged him to the bed and shoved him toward it.

  “I can take the couch --”

  “Just get in. You know what a bastard you are when you don’t get at least a few good hours’ sleep, and I don’t want to deal with that tonight.” Richie flopped on the bed, one arm flung over his eyes.

  Smiling slightly, Greg climbed under the covers. “Goodnight, Richie.”

  “Hmm.”

  “By the way, I asked Andrew to Christmas dinner tonight. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “You what?” Richie shouted.

  Greg opened his eyes and stared into Richie’s scowling face. “He has no family or friends to spend it with. I didn’t think you’d mind. I hope Ruby doesn’t react this way --”

  “You know I don’t mind if you asked him, but if you like this guy enough to have him over for a family holiday, why the hell aren’t you sleeping in the same bed with him, nightmares or not?”

  “Because I’m not ready for that kind of exposure, Richie!”

  Laughing humorlessly, Richie raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Exposure? Did you not just fuck the man?”

  “It’s not the same thing. Can we just get some sleep?”

  Releasing a low, disgruntled growl, Richie rolled onto his side, his back to Greg. Eventually he fell asleep, his breathing slow and even.

  Knowing Richie had made some valid points kept Greg awake and thinking for several moments before he, too, surrendered to sleep.

  * * *

  Andrew awoke in a warm bed, enfolded in a delicious, arousing scent.

  Greg.

  He glanced at the sexy singer stretched out on the bed beside him, a half smile on his lips.

  “Good evening,” Greg said, running his fingers through Andrew’s hair.

  “A very good evening,” Andrew replied. He yawned and stretched. “You must have woken up at sunset.” He rolled closer to Greg and buried his face in his shoulder, inhaling deeply. “Did you go out already? I’m catching someone else’s scent.”

  Actually, the scent was so strong it was as if Greg had slept with somebody else. Though they’d only just met, jealousy flashed through him at the thought of Greg wrapped in another guy’s arms.

  “I got up early and went to see Richie. That’s whose scent you’re detecting.”

  Andrew relaxed a bit, though part of him envied Greg’s Creator for the years they had already shared and the intimacy between them. To a man who had spent so long alone, these powerful emotions he f
elt for Greg unsettled him. Last night when he came to Burgundy Peak to deliver a sword, he hadn’t intended to enter a relationship. Was it possible to develop such strong feelings so quickly?

  “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra toothbrush?” Andrew asked, pushing himself to the edge of the bed. He rubbed a hand over his face and yawned again.

  “In the medicine cabinet over the bathroom sink.”

  “Thanks.” Andrew walked to the bathroom and brushed his teeth.

  He turned on the shower faucet and waited for the water to turn steaming hot.

  Greg tapped on the door before stepping, naked, inside. “How about some company?”

  Andrew cupped the back of Greg’s head and drew him close for a kiss.

  “Umm,” Greg purred, his tongue thrusting in time with Andrew’s. He tasted so good and smelled wonderful -- like woodsy cologne and musky male.

  Though Greg wasn’t especially tall, his lean body was sinewy. Andrew had felt the strength in it when they’d made love and felt it again now, with Greg’s arms wrapped tightly around him, his slender hands kneading the muscles of his back.

  When the kiss broke, they stared breathlessly into each other’s eyes. Andrew kissed him again with even greater passion. Greg licked the roof of his mouth, then sucked on his tongue, his fangs pricking it gently. The taste of blood sent their desire off the scale. Andrew’s erect cock ached and throbbed where it was trapped between their bodies.

  Reaching down, he stroked Greg’s hairless groin. Greg moaned softly and sank his fangs into Andrew’s bottom lip. The sensation spurred Andrew’s passion until he wondered how long he could control the urge to explode in orgasmic pleasure.

  “Andrew,” Greg panted. “Oh, Andrew. I want… I need…”

  “Yes,” Andrew breathed, stepping backward into the shower and tugging Greg with him. Hot water poured over their bodies that were already feverish with desire.

  Their hands curled around each other’s cocks. Andrew’s heart pounded like a mortal’s as he pushed Greg against the tile and covered his neck and shoulder with kisses, then bit deeply.

  Greg moaned, his hips thrusting into Andrew’s stroking hand.

  Growling with animal desire, Andrew lapped Greg’s blood, his buttocks and thighs taut against wave after wave of pleasure.

  You feel so fucking good, Andrew.

  You feel, taste, smell, and sound so fucking good. I want to devour you, Greg.

  You are.

  Harder. Faster. Andrew urged Greg on, and the sexy singer’s hand squeezed and stroked Andrew’s steely cock. It felt ready to burst from sheer pleasure. A few more strokes and another taste of blood --

  Greg’s teeth piercing his shoulder nearly pushed him over the edge. With a low groan, Andrew relished the sensation of Greg’s pleasure filling his mind as he lapped blood.

  Greg tore his lips from Andrew’s flesh and held his gaze. “Take me.”

  “What?” Andrew panted, the thought of claiming Greg’s sinewy body in a very human and incredibly fulfilling way nearly made him dizzy with passion.

  With a faint smile on his lips, Greg turned and braced his hands against the tile. He glanced over his shoulder with a sexy look that drove Andrew wild. Without further hesitation, he grasped the singer’s hips and eased his cock inside him, slowly, carefully. He wanted his lover to know how much he cared about him, and how much it meant that he offered himself to Andrew in a way Greg could not gain pleasure from.

  When Andrew began thrusting, Greg’s fingers clenched against the slick tile.

  “Are you all right?” Andrew asked, his heart pounding with desire, though he was ready to pull out in spite of his need, if Greg wanted him to.

  “Yeah. Better than all right.” I can feel what you feel. Don’t stop, Andrew. Please don’t stop.

  Knowing that through their psychic link Greg could share his pleasure pushed Andrew’s passion to incomparable heights. With a grunt of raw desire, Andrew thrust over and again, his thoughts linked with Greg’s so that when he finally exploded, they experienced the same moment of ecstasy.

  As if unable to form words, Greg moaned and trembled in Andrew’s embrace, his pleasure mingling with his lover’s.

  They leaned against each other, their breath slowing to normal, the hot water soothing their well-pleasured bodies.

  * * *

  After leaving Burgundy Peak, Andrew drove to his home about an hour’s ride out of the city.

  He had a spacious ranch style house, but he spent most of his time in the forge behind it. Built to resemble the forge he’d owned in England during the middle ages, it was the one place Andrew felt completely comfortable -- at least it had been until last night.

  The time he’d spent with Greg had been the best he ever remembered. A man who valued his privacy and took to few people, Andrew was surprised he already longed to be with Greg again.

  Upon arriving home, Andrew’s first order of business was to see to his dogs, Bo and Helen. Though the Mastiffs had the run of his home and access to a fenced-in yard, he disliked leaving them for longer than a day.

  When he stepped inside the house, the dogs greeted him with wagging tails and wet kisses. He patted them and took some time to wrestle with them before refilling their food and water bowls.

  After packing for another stay at Burgundy Peak, he walked to the forge.

  There he checked business calls in his office -- one of the only modern areas in the building. Satisfied that he’d taken care of his customers’ needs, he unlocked the safe underneath his desk and removed several pieces of chain mail style jewelry he’d created out of gold. After choosing one he believed would look best on Greg’s Scarlet persona, he wrapped it in a piece of cloth and stuck it in his pocket.

  Next he stoked the fire in his workshop and got down to business.

  Several hours later, Andrew held up the sword he’d been working on. A slight, satisfied smile tugged at his lips, then he remembered he was expected at Burgundy Peak.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “I hope I won’t be too late to catch the end of Greg’s show.”

  He hurried to wrap up his work, then rushed back to the house where he showered and dressed. This time he loaded his dogs into the back of the truck, since he’d arranged to rent a “pets allowed” suite at Burgundy Peak.

  He arrived at the club shortly before midnight. When he stepped into the foyer, Onan glanced at Bo and Helen and said, “You mentioned you were bringing back dogs, not ponies.”

  Andrew smiled slightly and shrugged while the dogs sniffed the security chief who rubbed their oversized heads. By the uncharacteristically kind expression on his face, Onan preferred animals to people.

  After settling into his room, Andrew was able to catch the end of the Maidens’ performance. When it was over, Greg joined him at his table with a kiss.

  “Come to my room,” the singer said. He kissed Andrew, took his hand, and tugged him to his feet.

  In the room, while Scarlet transformed into Greg, Andrew began to worry about the evening to come. He wasn’t at ease in social situations, and this would be the first time in ages he’d celebrated a holiday with even a small group.

  Greg stepped out of the bathroom wearing trousers and a silky gray shirt open casually at the neck.

  “Hey,” Greg said, meeting Andrew halfway across the room.

  Simultaneously they reached for one another, their tongues eagerly searching each other’s mouths. Andrew caressed Greg’s lean back while enjoying the sensation of the other man’s hands on his buttocks.

  “I could scarcely wait to see you tonight,” Greg said when the kiss broke.

  “Me too.” Andrew nuzzled Greg’s neck. His fangs pressed against the flesh without breaking the skin.

  Greg drew a sharp breath, his body tensing with impending pleasure. His fingers tightening on Andrew’s back, he whispered, “Wait until later. If we start this now, we’ll never make it to dinner.”

  A low growl escaped Andrew’s throat, but
he backed off, reaching down to adjust his erection. Just the scent, touch, and even the thought of Greg’s sexy body entwined with his was enough to set him aflame.

  “Well,” Greg breathed, stepped closer and cupping Andrew’s crotch, “I suppose we still have a little time.”

  Andrew didn’t protest when Greg sank to his knees, unzipped his jeans, and began licking and sucking his cock head. His hands stroked the thick shaft while his tongue sent shockwaves of passion coursing through Andrew.

  Andrew tugged out the elastic binding Greg’s hair and ran his fingers through the thick tendrils.

  Greg’s skillful mouth soon had him on the verge of orgasm. In spite of the urge to close his eyes to better enjoy the sensations, Andrew couldn’t keep from staring at Greg as he worked. His sensual lips slid up and down his cock. His tongue traced the thick vein that ran along the underside, sending ripples of pleasure through him. Andrew’s buttocks tightened, his leg muscles flexing as his hips thrust.

  “Umm,” Greg moaned softly. The tips of his fangs grazed Andrew’s flesh, then bit lightly. Unable to control the pleasure, Andrew came, his body stiffening then relaxing until he sank onto the bed and closed his eyes, a smile on his lips. He heard Greg move toward the bathroom. Only when the singer sat beside him and cleaned him with a damp towel did Andrew open his eyes and hitch up his jeans.

  “You’re damn good at that,” Andrew said, pulling Greg into his arms.

  “Washing cocks?” Greg smirked, settling more comfortably on the bed.

  “No. Sucking them.”

  “We’d better think about going to Richie’s.”

  “I’m thinking about it,” Andrew teased, his voice so relaxed it was almost a whisper.

  “Come on.” Greg stood and tugged him to his feet.

  Andrew glanced in the mirror across the room and ran a hand through his tousled hair.

  They walked down the hall where Greg knocked on the door to Richie’s suite. The scent of turkey dinner wafted into the hallway. Andrew’s stomach growled and he realized how hungry he was.

  Seconds later, Ruby, still in full drag though now dressed in a comfortable black skirt set instead of his beaded performance gown, opened the door. Greg had explained that drag wasn’t simply a job to Ruby, but a way of life.