Owen opened his mouth to ask what the hell, then realized his state of undress. Scrambling up, he pressed his back against the headboard, grabbed a pillow, and thrust it over his groin.
“What the hell just happened?” Owen snapped, demanding this time.
Chapter Four
Xavier fought back a groan—first from the pain in his shoulder, then from the throbbing of his erection in his cargo shorts, and finally, from his unmistakably stupid decision to bite his beloved. He could feel the slight thread that had formed between them, starting the bonding process. The scent of Owen’s semen, now hidden beneath a pillow, called to him, and he desperately wanted to yank the concealment away and lick his reluctant lover clean.
Realizing he had to admit his folly, Xavier prayed his beloved would find it in him to forgive him. He removed his arm, tilted his head a bit, and looked up at Owen. “I’m sorry. I should have asked first.”
Owen frowned, which didn’t bode well, but then he asked, “What the hell just happened? Asked to do what? Stroke me off?”
“Among other things,” Xavier murmured. He slowly eased to a sitting position next to his beloved, back against the headboard. At the twinge in his shoulder, he lifted his left hand and gently probed the edges of the quickly healing gunshot wound.
“Holy shit,” Owen growled. He leaned forward and reached out a hand, but pulled it back before touching him. “How the hell is this possible? It looks like it’s a couple days old already!”
Xavier sighed, figuring he didn’t have much of a choice at this point. He decided blunt and to the point would be best, and if Owen went screaming for the hills…well, Catlin could tell him where Owen lived.
Turning to stare Owen in the eye, Xavier stated, “I’m a vampire, Owen. I bit you, drank your blood.” He paused and pointed toward his wound. “It helped me heal.”
“God, not you, too,” Owen grumbled. “Was it something you and Catlin drank that has you talking like that?”
“What?” Confusion flooded him. “What’d we drink?”
He watched, stunned, as Owen slid off the far side of the bed. Keeping his back to Xavier, Owen stripped the pillowcase off and used the fabric to wipe at his stomach. Seconds later, he made movements that clearly indicated he was closing his jeans. Finally, he turned around. Owen crossed his arms over his naked chest and glared at him. “Yeah. Vampires? Drinking blood? What the hell?”
Well, it looked like Catlin had tried to explain…and from the incredulous look on Owen’s face, he didn’t believe a word. Okay, he’d have to prove it. Slowly, Xavier rose from the bed. Yes, his shoulder hurt, but blowing this would hurt even more. Even now, the exquisite taste of his beloved coated his tongue and Owen’s blood sang through his veins, giving him strength. He could do this.
“You don’t believe vampires are real, even though I just sucked the blood from your neck?” he asked, cracking a smile. Owen slapped a hand over his neck, his eyes widening. Xavier allowed his eyes to haze slightly, just enough where he knew a red glow started to dominate his irises before returning his eyes to normal. Then he lifted his left hand, back of his hand facing the other man, and extended his claws. Finally, he grinned widely, something he almost never did when not in the safety of the coven’s mansion, and showed off his fangs.
“How the hell are you doing that?”
Xavier hated how pale Owen became, but could see no other way around it. “It’s what I am, Owen,” he stated. “I’m a vampire.”
Owen’s eyes narrowed and he held up a hand. “Is this something you should be telling me?”
And here comes the kicker… “You are what a vampire calls a beloved. My beloved.” He swallowed hard and mentally crossed his fingers. “That means you’re my soul mate. We are connected, Owen Hanson. That’s why I can tell you.”
For several long moments, Xavier watched as a gamut of emotions crossed Owen’s face, from disbelief, to amazement, to confusion, until he finally seemed to settle on irritation. “Oh, hell, no!” he snapped, his cheeks flushing. “You’re talking about…about…what the hell does that even mean? What does any of this mean?”
Concerned about the racing of the man’s heart that Xavier heard pounding in Owen’s chest, he spread his arms to his side and slowly started rounding the bed. “Easy, now. I know this is all a shock. It would be to anyone.”
“A shock?” Owen snapped. “It’s unbelievable. Ridiculous!” He pointed a finger and snarled, “Catlin is one of the most level headed people I know. How did you get him to go along with this?”
Before Xavier could come up with an answer, a knock at the door interrupted them. “Shit,” he muttered, suddenly remembering what caused the commotion to begin with. He crossed and yanked the door open to reveal Peter. He took in the human donor’s concerned expression and asked, “Have they located Seth?”
Peter nodded. “They’re speeding home. I was told to stay here, out of the way, and…uh…” He paused and nibbled his lip.
Xavier lifted a brow. “Yes?”
“I’m supposed to report to Toni about what happens with Owen,” Peter mumbled self-consciously.
Knowing safety depended on secrecy, Xavier had to convince his beloved to not only complete the bond but of the importance of never sharing what he’s learned. He nodded. “The situation isn’t ideal,” he commented, “but I’ve waited a long time and I’ll make certain to find a way to make it work.”
Peter looked past his shoulder, his mouth opening and closing, as if struggling with a response.
Xavier placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. All will be well.” Maybe if he said it enough, it’d be true.
Although he nodded, Peter didn’t really seem convinced. “Sure.”
Xavier opened the door wider and leaned into the hallway, listening. Only the soft murmurs of Catlin and Gallo reached him, telling him the other vampires had left. The sharp pain in his shoulder made him straighten. He hated being injured and felt bad he couldn’t assist his coven master in locating Seth. He prayed his friend would be okay. Seth was a good man and good for Adalric.
In the meantime, he had his own troubles to deal with. He returned his focus to Peter and asked softly, “Will you ask Catlin if he’s willing to share how he learned about the paranormal world?”
Peter nodded. “I’ll ask him.”
“Thanks.” Meeting a beloved—or in Catlin’s situation, because his significant other was a shifter, a mate—was a personal thing, and as Xavier turned away from the doorway, he wondered if Catlin would agree. Seeing Owen’s gaze slide from his bare chest to the floor reminded Xavier that accepting that paranormals existed wasn’t the only thing his beloved needed to deal with.
Xavier decided a change of subject to take the pressure off the man, even a brief one, was in order, and so sat on the bed. He turned and presented his back to Owen and, glancing over his shoulder at him, commented, “I know the slug didn’t break any bones. I’d feel it if it did, but how’s the exit wound look?”
The other side of the bed dipped, and Xavier tried to control his body’s reaction at having his beloved so close. Yes, he’d gotten Owen off, and his body strained for the same completion. Fingers gently probed his flesh. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and closed his eyes, biting back a moan when Owen slid that same hand down the muscles of his back.
“I still can’t believe how healed you are already,” Owen said, awe filling his tone.
Xavier wondered if the man was aware of gently rubbing his side with his thumb. Instead of drawing attention to that, he commented, “Your blood helped. That was why Toni was trying to get me to drink from Peter.”
He’d never actually fed from Peter before, and though he was flattered, it felt like a betrayal to even consider it with his beloved not far away. It didn’t help that he hadn’t fed in almost three weeks. He was an old vampire, and could normally get away with that easily, but getting shot had botched his ability to wait.
Guilt flooded him
at that realization. Had he pushed Owen too hard too fast? Probably. He really shouldn’t have drunk from him without permission. It had been over two centuries since he’d done that.
Owen cleared his throat. “You really drank my blood.”
At those softly spoken words, Xavier twisted a bit and looked over his shoulder at Owen. “I did. I apologize for not asking permission first. I was a bit…out of it.”
Snorting, Owen’s eyes narrowed as he shook his head. “I fucking shot you, Xavier.” Then the man grimaced and actually flopped onto the bed and ran a hand over his face. “Fuck! I shot you! How can you want to have anything to do with me? Shouldn’t you be insisting Catlin kick me out of the house?”
In for a penny… Xavier turned slowly and lay back down on the towels someone had spread across the comforter…probably Peter. A glance down showed the wound on his chest had stopped bleeding and scabbed over and from the feel of the towels on his skin, so had the exit wound. He mirrored Owen, then turned his head to look at the man, pleased to see his beloved staring right back.
“I don’t want to freak you out,” Xavier murmured. “But I’d forgive you for just about anything.”
“Why?” Owen asked, uncertainty filling that one word.
Sighing, Xavier looked him in the eye and stated, “Because you are my soul mate, my beloved. I have been waiting to meet you for four hundred years.”
For a second, Owen looked confused, then he blanched. “Are you saying you’re four hundred years old?”
Xavier smiled and winked, trying for levity. “I hope you like older men, handsome.”
Owen turned his head and stared at the ceiling. For just a second, Xavier thought Owen would deny him. Relief flooded him when his human admitted, “I really couldn’t say. I’ve never done anything with any man.”
Just to make certain they were on the same page, Xavier slipped his hand into Owen’s and dared to slide his fingers amidst the man’s. “But you’re willing?”
For what felt like the longest five seconds of Xavier’s life, Owen remained quiet and unresponsive. Then he tightened his grip. “Yeah. I think I am.”
Chapter Five
Owen couldn’t believe he’d just agreed, but something about this guy, as odd as Xavier seemed to be, called to him. He’d realized it weeks ago. He’d fought it like he always did, and he was so damn tired. He wanted to feel a man holding him down, touching him, fucking him.
He wanted it all, and Xavier seemed more than willing to give it to him.
So what if the guy thought he was a vampire. So what if he had some weird eye and nail condition. And so the hell what if he liked to bite and drink blood? Owen remembered all too well how those teeth and hands had felt on his body.
His cock slowly started to fill, shocking him. Owen couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a boner twice in one night. Arousal, excitement, and trepidation filled him at the prospect of giving in to his most hidden desires, spiking his pulse.
Xavier levered up on his good arm to peer down at him. His smile lit his eyes for a couple seconds, then he lay back down with a soft hiss. “There are many things to explain,” he said.
The man’s grunt of pain reminded Owen of Xavier’s injury and he grimaced, shoving to a sitting position to stare down at the man. “Damn. Should I wrap this?” he asked, indicating the wound.
Shaking his head, Xavier stated, “It’ll be healed in a day or two.”
“Holy shit,” Owen whispered. “How is that possible?” When Xavier frowned and opened his mouth, Owen realized what he’d asked and held up his hand. “Vampire, right?”
“You still don’t believe me, do you?”
“Look, it’s not that I don’t believe, it’s just…” He stopped and shook his head. “Okay, so I don’t believe. That’s just quite the pill to swallow, ya know?” He paused when someone knocked on the door. “Yeah?”
Catlin opened the door and stuck his head into the room, and after taking in them on the bed together, met Owen’s gaze. “You doing okay? Wrapping your mind around everything? You’re not gonna freak out again, are ya?”
“Freak out? I didn’t freak out,” he snapped, indignation filling him.
“Uh, yeah,” Catlin replied. “Ya did. Now then.” He moved his focus to Xavier. “I already tried to tell him about vampires, but he didn’t really believe me. He thought I’d had one too many beers.”
“Well, I drank his blood and he still doesn’t believe me,” Xavier commented with a sigh. “Showed him my claws, eyes, fangs. Not sure what else to do. Told him I was over four hundred years old and he thinks I’m nuts.” Looking at him, Xavier’s lip curled in a wry smile. “At least he’s still talking like he wants me to fuck him.”
“Well, that’s something. He’ll believe in time,” Catlin responded.
Owen rolled his eyes. “Seriously, guys? I’m right here.”
Xavier chuckled. “Oh, I know you’re right here, beloved. I long to explore every inch of your body.” His tone lowered with each word he spoke, his brown-eyed stare boring into Owen as if trying to read his soul. “I want to lick and nip your skin, find all those spots that make you whimper and moan. Your blood sings to me, and I can’t wait to revel in its taste.”
Shuddering, Owen licked his lips and swallowed, trying to get moisture into his suddenly dry throat. His dick throbbed in his jeans and he barely managed to swallow his groan.
Catlin snickered. “And that’s my cue to leave.” Before he did so however, he said one more thing…something that gave Owen pause. “Be sure, Owen. Because once you do this, there’s no going back.” Then he tossed something on the bed between Xavier’s legs and shut the door behind him.
Looking down, Owen picked up a tube and flushed upon reading the label. Astroglide. “Uh.” He tried to get his brain to function as he thought about what Catlin expected them to do with it. He tore his gaze away from the product and managed to ask, “So, what does he mean about not being able to go back?”
Xavier wrapped his longer, more slender fingers around Owen’s hand where he held the tube of lubricant. “It means, if I fuck you, it will complete the bond between us. We will be forever tied together, and I will be able to have no other but you.”
Owen stopped at that, but only for a second. What the hell did it matter? It wasn’t like he’d gotten laid in years. He was too busy working or taking care of his son’s problems. Thinking of Nate finally got his brain functioning. What would his son think? Would he be happy for him? Upset? His son was an adult now and often encouraged him to find someone to make him happy.
Will this do it?
For once, Owen was willing to try. He lifted the tube they both held and cocked a brow. “You gonna show me how to use this?”
Xavier sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly, shuddering a bit.
Frowning, Owen asked, “Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“Oh, I’m definitely up for it,” Xavier growled, palming his crotch.
Owen flushed at the blunt statement. Having always been with women, he wasn’t used to that kind of blatant display. “Uh, y-yeah,” he stuttered, his gaze riveted to the thick erection filling out the man’s pants. “So it would seem.”
He hadn’t even seen the guy’s dick, yet, and he wondered how the hell it would fit inside him. Oh, shit. Am I actually going to go through with this? But instead of shrinking his own erection, his asshole actually tightened and his heart beat faster…from excitement.
Yeah, I’m definitely doing this.
“Guess we ought to get naked, then.”
“Direct, aren’t you?” Xavier commented, but he still unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks.
Did guys do it another way? Damned if he knew…Owen rolled off the bed and toed off his sneakers, then shoved down and off his jeans and socks. He stood silently in his boxer-briefs and chewed his lip as he watched Xavier kick off his own clothes and push them off the side of the bed. Except, the other man didn’t leave his underwear on…and
he sure as hell didn’t have anything to be ashamed of.
The man had lean lines, smooth muscles, and bronzed skin. He wore his black hair cut short, silver at his temples giving away his advanced age along with fine lines around his brown eyes and wide mouth. Laugh lines, Owen acknowledged. His long, lean fingers wrapped around an impressive, slender, maybe seven or eight inch dick.
“Damn.” His gaze focused on where Xavier stroked his shaft.
“You’ll need to take those off, Owen,” Xavier all but crooned, fire lighting his eyes.
Slowly, Owen nodded, then tucked his thumbs into his waistband, pulled them away from his erection, and pushed them down and off. Xavier swept his gaze over him slowly. The man’s lust-filled expression so hot, so carnal, Owen shuddered, and when his soon-to-be lover focused that heated look on his cock, he twitched. A bead of pre-cum oozed from his slit.
Holy shit! When was the last time someone looked at me like that? Never!
Xavier lifted a hand. “Come here,” he ordered.
A shiver of anticipation shot down Owen’s spine, settling like fire in his balls. He lifted a leg and crawled onto the bed, all too aware of the way his harder-than-nails dick swung back and forth with each movement.
To Owen’s surprise, Xavier wrapped his arms around him and pulled him down. He found himself tucked up against the taller man’s side. Xavier gently stroked his skin, causing goose bumps to break out in the warm air of the bedroom.
“Normally, I’d be much more dominant,” Xavier commented. “But today, we’ll have to do things a bit more sedately.” Owen almost did something stupid, like asking why when the scabbed-over bullet wound was a dead giveaway. Fortunately, Xavier winked and added, “Don’t worry. In a few days, I’ll fuck you through the mattress and really show you who you belong to.” He leaned down and nipped Owen’s shoulder before whispering hotly, “Or into the wall, or over a desk, or against a garden trellis.”
Owen moaned at the images Xavier’s words painted in his mind. His dick ached, and his hips jerked, thrusting his cock along the smooth skin of Xavier’s hip. The man’s long-fingered hand on his hip stopped his movement.
Changing Owen’s Mind Page 3
