by Mary Calmes
He shivered under me as I straddled his hips and ground my hardening cock against his carved abdomen, pushing, wanting more.
“Vy,” he rasped, unsealing our lips for a quick breath of air and then recapturing my mouth, devouring me as I coiled my arms tightly around his neck.
His strong hands were digging into my thighs as he wrapped my legs around his waist and gently bit my bottom lip before leaning back, breaking the kiss. We were both panting when he rested his forehead against mine.
“Tell me I can come back and have dinner with you tonight.”
“You can come back,” I heaved out, my body screaming at me to attack him, put him on his back, and maul him. Never had I wanted anyone as much as this man. He was so good and kind and patient and gentle and just…. Robert. “Please come back.”
“Okay,” he said, grinning at me, clearly uncomfortable as he stood up with me still wrapped, arms and legs, around him.
“Something wrong?” I teased him.
He whimpered in the back of this throat as he grabbed my ass hard in both hands.
“Thank you for taking care of me last night and for making breakfast this morning,” I whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly before I wriggled in his arms.
“Not fair,” he groaned like he was in pain. “You know I want you.”
“And I want you back,” I confessed, because I had never wanted anyone more.
“You want me, or your pheromones want me?”
“All of me,” I promised him because it was true. My hawk wanted him just as badly as my very human heart. “So come home and have dinner with me tonight.”
“Home,” he repeated as I slid down his body until I planted my feet on the floor and settled my hands on his hips. “I’ll be here.”
I lifted up to give him one more kiss. “Good.”
“WHY ARE they looking at me like that?” I asked Lou as she drank her double-chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and sprinkles.
“Because you’re you, and Robert told everyone you bend him over the bed,” she said dryly.
I swallowed iced coffee down my windpipe and thought I was going to die.
She squinted at me. “What?”
I couldn’t breathe. I was dying right there in front of her, and she was not remotely concerned.
Bells jingled over the door of Rick Souza’s ice-cream shop, Sugar Bowl, and I saw Carlo cross the floor to our table, looking like hammered shit. I myself still resembled a wrung-out old mop, no matter what Robert said. But Carlo looked worse.
He took a seat in front of his wife and chewed on his bottom lip. I had never once seen the man nervous, and it was weird to see that expression on him now. For a second, I forgot I wasn’t breathing.
“I’m sorry, Lou. Please,” Carlo entreated.
She slurped her shake.
He reached for her, and she leaned back, beyond his reach.
The tension was so thick I finally understood that expression about being able to cut it with a knife.
“Vy.”
He startled me because I was so engrossed in their drama. “Yeah?”
“I’m really sorry for dragging you to the fire.”
“What? No,” I said, banging Lou with my elbow. “I volunteered. If I didn’t go, someone else would have had to. That was my choice, Lou; I’m not a little kid.”
Her eyes showed boredom, like I was just as tedious as her husband. We both watched as she noisily slurped the end of her shake, got up, walked to the door, and left.
“Fuck,” he groaned, folding his arms on the table and then dropping his head onto them hard.
“Why is she mad at you?”
He mumbled something into his arms.
“Lift your head up. I didn’t get any of that.”
Raising his head just barely off his arms, he met my gaze with his own bloodshot one. “She’s mad because I took the kuar of her ket—and that’s how she said it by the way, her kuar, her ket—I took him into a life-and-death situation. If I want to endanger my own life, that’s my prerogative, and even though she hates it—like, really fucking hates it—she’ll deal with it ’cause she knew what I did when she married me. But to take you with me is the pinnacle of stupidity and selfishness and just… fuck. She’s so pissed at me it’s insane.”
I patted his back as he dropped his head down hard enough to make the table jostle. “She’ll get over it.”
He said something else.
“Either sit up or stop talking to me,” I ordered, trying to sound surly but unable to pull it off. I was in too good a mood; I wasn’t capable of grouchiness.
“I said at least your mate was nice to me.”
I was suddenly interested. “What are you talking about?”
“Lou made me drive my ass out to your mate’s campsite today and apologize to him for being an ass. I don’t even know when that was.”
“In my house the other night,” I offered.
“I think she thinks it was more than that one time, but whatever. I did it.”
“You apologized to Robert?”
“Yes, Robert. You have another mate I don’t know about?”
“No,” I said, coughing. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, so, I did it. He’s a lot nicer than Lou, I gotta tell you. He even gave me part of his tofu-turkey thing.”
I smiled because, yes, that’s exactly what Robert would have done: fed the belligerent hawk shifter and even listened to him if he’d wanted to rant about his wife.
“And he thinks Lou’s a shrew.”
He did not. “Uh-huh.”
Carlo regarded me intently. “So, really, you’re the top?”
I was back to coughing and not breathing and nearly passing out from lack of oxygen.
“How does that even work?”
I couldn’t have answered if I’d tried.
IT WAS a little after seven by the time Robert showed up that evening, and he looked cold standing in my doorway.
“What is it, like, thirty-eight out there?” I asked, smiling out at him from my warm house.
He nodded quickly. “Yeah, can I come in, please?”
I held my hand out for his duffel and passed him back a cup of steaming apple cider, moving aside so he could pass. After closing and locking the door behind him, I turned in time to have his lined barn coat shoved at me.
“Oh, let me get that for you.”
The smile I got in return for the teasing was dazzling.
“So it smells great in—oh,” he said, surprised, I was certain, to find us not alone.
“Ciao, Roberto,” Carlo called over to him, stirring the thick spaghetti sauce on the stove in the large stew pot. “If you wanna ditch that cider crap, I have wine over here.”
Robert pivoted to face me.
“I need you to talk to Lou before she kills me and her husband,” I said.
He nodded, sipping the cider, his eyes glinting above the rim.
“And just so you know, it’s vegetarian sauce because, interestingly enough, that’s the only kind Carlo makes. He doesn’t like meat in his sauce; he says it messes it up. So it’s really chunky, but there’s nothing with a face in there.”
He chuckled. “Okay.”
“You want wine?”
“Of course I want wine. I have to have wine; he just offered it to me.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Come on. He’s Italian, I’m Italian. We’re bonding, right?”
He was funny and good company, and because I felt that, felt close to him, I kissed his cheek. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck, and then sucking gently.
My shiver would have been impossible to miss.
“Aww, man. I mean this in the best possible way,” he growled softly. “But you crave dominance like nothing I’ve ever seen, and I am dying to show you again how good that can be.”
My gaze met his. “Are there clothes for you to change into in that
duffel you brought?”
He nodded.
“Good. Then you’ll stay here with me, if that’s okay. I mean, unless you want to sleep under the stars, which I get. It’s beautiful outside.”
“It is,” he agreed, his gaze searching mine.
“But warm under the covers with me is good too.”
It was his turn to shiver. “It’s better, actually.”
I lifted, he bent, and it was our first kiss where we met halfway.
“Vy, I’m turning on the game,” Lou called over from the other side of the house, breaking the spell between Robert and me. We had been alone in a bubble for just a moment.
I groaned, and Robert chuckled softly into my hair.
He was a really good sport. Not only did the man grab a glass of Chianti and tell Carlo how great the sauce looked and smelled, but he then went to Lou, brought her a glass of wine, which she had refused from both me and her husband but accepted from him, and flopped down beside her. I had no idea what they talked about, but as I walked into the kitchen with Carlo and kept an eye on them, I saw Lou visibly start to thaw.
Her shoulders lowered first, then the corner of her mouth curled, and finally she moved her glass from her right to her left so she could easily touch Robert. He asked questions, she answered, tipping her head back and forth like she was actually enjoying the conversation.
At dinner, she flicked her gaze over all three of us, finally settling on me and narrowing.
“Whatever I did, I’m—”
“You know what you did,” she said flatly.
I cleared my throat. “I promise to think of the ket first and not myself in the future, and I will not go traipsing off into danger.”
Her stare was really very scary.
“I will consider others and their feelings and concerns before I act. I’m the kuar and must act accordingly for the good of my ket.”
When she moved her gaze from me to her husband, I sighed in relief.
“Shit,” Carlo muttered under his breath.
“And?” she said, her voice icy.
He filled her glass with more Chianti. “And I’ll think about the ket next time, and Vy being more than just my friend.”
Robert cleared his throat, and we all looked at him.
“It’s already hard for her to let you go off and be brave,” he said softly, reaching out to put a hand on Carlo’s back. “But Vy leads people; he’s responsible for more than himself. Your wife simply wants you to keep that in mind going forward.”
He nodded at Robert and then refocused on Lou. “I’m really sorry, honey.”
Her eyes filled fast as she got up and moved around the table to take a seat in his lap.
Robert was watching them with a languorous expression on his face, obviously pleased with both of them.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, leaning close to him.
“That your friends are really nice,” he sighed.
“My town is nice too.”
“Yes,” he agreed, turning to me.
“And my house.”
“Your house is wonderful,” he agreed solemnly.
“My father too.”
“Especially your father.”
We were both quiet a moment, sitting there, before I asked him to get up and follow me.
“Whatever you want,” he murmured.
I took his hand and led him to the living room, and then I sank onto the couch and tugged him after me. Once he was seated, I rolled into his lap and straddled his thighs. Instantly, he put his hands on my ass and drew me closer, folding my legs on either side of his hips.
Staring into his deep, dark chocolate-brown eyes, I almost forgot what I was going to say. “I had to go by the jail today to check on Ed Sheridan.”
He grunted.
“He’s got a month-long stay there for what he did at Reno’s.”
Robert nodded.
“How far did you throw him?”
“He jumped.”
I arched an eyebrow for him.
“It was more a toss then a throw,” he hedged.
“A throw being more violent,” I offered.
“Yes.”
I shook my head. “That was the last straw. Ed’s done.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means he gets to be my father’s new pet project. My dad’s all about the healing power of very hard work.”
He snickered. “I’ve met your father. Poor Ed; he should have listened to his mother.”
“Yes.”
His voice dropped an octave. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“No. But I’m wondering why you said what you did afterwards to the crowd.”
“How did you—”
“Lou.”
He nodded. “Well, it’s like your father told us, the kuar has to be perceived as the strongest, the one in control, and for me, it doesn’t matter. Your pride is important to you because it has to be. Mine isn’t. I don’t give a damn who knows what or who thinks what. I don’t care what other people do in their bedroom; they care what you do in yours. You have to be seen a certain way. I don’t. I just need to be supportive.”
“You don’t have to be. The ket has nothing to do with you.”
“That’s what I thought at first. But it’s part of you, and if I want to spend time with you, which I do, then I have to make it okay for you to be with me.”
“That’s not fair to you.”
“You’re not a regular guy, Vy. You have a bunch of responsibilities, and if I can make things easier for you, why wouldn’t I?”
The way he said it, like, of course he would want to help, overwhelmed me. I clutched at him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and squeezed tight.
“Oh, I like this,” he said, chuckling into my shoulder as I buried my face in the side of his neck. “Your nice friends need to beat it now.”
“We haven’t finished dinner, and I made pumpkin pull-apart bread for dessert.”
“That sounds really good, little bird,” he drawled in my ear, which covered me in goose bumps from head to toe. “But they still need to get out.”
I couldn’t stifle my laughter.
Twelve
Robert
“HOW WELL insulated is your house?” I whispered in Vy’s ear.
I had him caged against the front door with my larger body plastered against his—my chest against his back—my hands on either side of his neck and my knee between his thighs.
“Good. Uh, the insulation is—”
His words were cut off by his gasp when I tugged his jeans and briefs hard, leaving them pooled around his ankles. Though I’d wanted to bend him over the back of his couch in front of his fireplace, fuck him until he couldn’t walk, and then carry him to bed and start all over again, I’d restrained myself.
Instead, I’d played the part of polite host, smiling and bobbing my head at random things his friends said that were supposed to be funny. They probably were funny. But my dick was hard, my boyfriend was hot, and I wasn’t in the mood for conversation.
“The reason I’m asking,” I said hoarsely, “is because I’m going to make you scream very, very loud tonight.”
“Ungh,” he moaned and then made a gasping hiccup sound.
“Do you have any idea,” I said as I stroked the tips of my fingers through his channel, making him shiver, “how gorgeous this butt is?”
“I don’t… it’s just… oh God.” He folded his arms on the door and dropped his face against them. “Robert,” he sighed softly.
He couldn’t see, couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. I had him blocked in, surrounded, and vulnerable. But instead of being scared or angry, he was pliant and relaxed. When I reached my hand around his hips, I wasn’t surprised to confirm that he was also very, very aroused.
“Your dick too,” I informed him. “It’s beautiful.” I circled my fingertips over his crown, then slid them up and down with barely there touches.
Wet precum seeped o
nto my skin as Vy shuddered and gasped.
“Do you know what I thought about when I was parked in front of your house all night?”
After making a strained sound, clearing his throat, and trying to speak again only to gasp, he gave up and shook his head.
“Well.” I chuckled. “I thought about a lot of things, actually. But one recurring theme was how I could make you feel good.” Leaving one hand still gently stimulating his dick, I used the other to roll his balls. “All the different ways.”
He whimpered.
“There are so many things I want to do to you, little bird.” I moved my finger lower and massaged his perineum. “Things I never thought about before we met.” I slid up his crack and pressed against his pucker. “I bet you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” I nibbled gently behind his ear and down his neck. “Tell me.” I tightened my grip and scraped my teeth across his sensitive skin, feeling my dick throb when he cried out. “Say it, Vy.”
“I don’t…. What?”
“Say you’d let me do anything to you.” I increased the pressure against his rosebud, pressing the tip of my finger inside, while at the same time drawing circles over his slit. “Anything I want.” I slid my finger inside his hole. “Tell me you’d like it.”
He shook so hard, I was sure he wouldn’t have remained upright if he hadn’t been propped against the door.
“Little bird?” I said as I slowly finger-fucked him and tortured his weeping dick with my thumb. “Can I do whatever I want to you?”
“Yes,” he squawked.
My balls tightened at that affirmation. He was amazing. So strong, so proud, so self-sufficient, but deep inside, where it really mattered, where the man lived—not the bird, not the kuar, but the man—there, he was all want and need. But only for me. Only I got to see that side of him. The dark part of me—the possessive, emotional animal—rejoiced at that knowledge.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” One finger became two with that question.
Vy gasped and spread his legs as far as his pants would allow.
“You want me to control you, don’t you?” I added another finger, wanting him to feel the stretch, wanting him to know I was there, using his body like nobody else ever had, like nobody else ever would.
