Mitch grimaced as he reached down, spreading his legs. He stopped his hand just shy of his hole. Just because he’d liked the gargoyle’s tail inside him while he was fucking him, he sure didn’t like the after sensations.
And that was with a very thin appendage.
Sighing, Mitch pushed to a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He thought about how they’d left it as he rubbed his hands over his face. Mitch didn’t like how guilty he felt.
After leaving the bed and going to the bathroom, Mitch had rested his hands on either side of the sink and hung his head. His brain wasn’t even remotely online, and he didn’t know what to say to the big male. Having his prostate massaged, pleasuring him in the heat of passion, was one thing. Thinking about it afterward, Mitch felt a little queasy.
In his mind, Mitch knew that there was nothing wrong with enjoying bottoming. His buddies were all strong, manly guys, and he knew they all did it for their lovers. He rubbed his stomach as tears burned the backs of his eyelids.
Shame burned through him, but not because he’d just had a tail up his ass. No, it was caused by how badly he felt for walking away from Kardamon, leaving him in his bed. The gargoyle had given him the greatest bliss of his life, and in return, Mitch had essentially denied him.
A soft knock on the bathroom’s door had pulled Mitch out of his self-recriminating thoughts. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to head out, Mitch,” Kardamon had told him, his voice quiet. “I—”
Mitch had kept quiet, uncertain how to throw the gargoyle a bone.
“I understand this was a lot for you this evening. I’m going to give you time to process.” Kardamon cleared his throat, then added, “But don’t think this is the end. You are my mate. We’ll figure this out.”
Before Mitch had been able to come up with a viable response, the quiet thud of booted feet indicated the gargoyle was moving away from the door. A few minutes later, he’d heard the thud of a door closing and after that, the rumble of an engine starting. Mitch turned on the water and splashed his face, feeling so damn alone and uncertain who he could talk to about it.
In the bright light of day, Mitch knew who he needed advice from—his friends.
Picking up his phone, Mitch refused to second-guess his decision. He needed help. He got that. Dialing Andre’s number, Mitch waited for his buddy to pick up.
“Hi, Mitch,” Andre greeted, his tone a little rough. “What’s up?”
Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, Mitch winced. He wasn’t certain when the last time he’d woken before eight-thirty on a Saturday morning was. Still, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep even if he’d wanted to.
“I need, uh, need to talk.” Mitch fought the thickness in his voice. “Can you guys come over?”
“Yeah.” Andre instantly sounded much more awake. “Yeah, absolutely. Want us to bring breakfast and coffee?”
Realizing he hadn’t even told his friends that he’d moved, guilt flooded Mitch. “Uh, breakfast, sure, but I have an epic new coffee machine I’m just dying to try out. Uh... and I’m not at the dorm.”
“You’re not?” Andre quickly followed that up with, “Where are you?”
“You know the two-bedroom cottage I looked at the other day? The one you snuck Kardamon into?”
“Sure.” Andre sounded a little leery, his tone taking on a concerned note.
Wanting to dissolve the notion that he was still upset about that, Mitch hurried to explain. “Well, I bought the place. I got the keys and moved in yesterday.”
“Well, shit! You bastard,” Andre cried, his annoyance clear. “What the fuck?” Before Mitch could come up with a platitude, Andre continued, “Forget it, man. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Mitch offered his heartfelt thanks, then hung up.
Figuring his buddies would be pretty damn quick, if for no other reason than to get there to give him shit, Mitch rose and started cleaning up.
True to his suspicions, Mitch heard a vehicle turn into his driveway just before nine. Wearing only a pair of jeans, he carried a cup of awesome high-end coffee, not even bothering to wait for their knock. After Mitch had opened the door, his brows shot up, and it felt as if ice formed in his veins.
It wasn’t his friends.
Mitch watched as a suit-clad driver exited the black town car and round the hood. Reaching the offside back door, he opened it. From the vehicle appeared not only Mitch’s brother—Nicholas—but also his father—Baltus Lindson.
While discomfort filled him, Mitch ruthlessly forced it down. He refused to show weakness in front of his estranged family. Just because he knew it’d irritate his father, he left the door open and headed into his home.
Since Mitch still hadn’t moved the rest of his furniture from the garage, he crossed to the kitchen bar and leaned against it. He saw a shadow reach his front porch first, so brought his coffee cup to his lips. In the midst of taking a drink, Mitch watched his father, a briefcase in hand, lead the way into his home.
Nicholas closed the door behind the pair, telling Mitch the driver remained outside.
Mitch guessed the guy was also a bodyguard.
At least they don’t think I’m a threat.
Sweeping his gaze over Mitch’s half-dressed form, an expression of annoyance flickered over Baltus’s features. It was there and gone swiftly enough to be replaced by a smile. “That coffee smells good, Mitchell,” his father stated. “How about a cup?”
Mitch just managed to keep a straight face. He wasn’t certain if he would have curled his lip in disdain at his father’s use of his full name—he hadn’t used it since he’d left for college. The other option was shock upon hearing the man’s cordial tone.
Just what the fuck is going on?
Whatever it was, his father definitely seemed to be taking a new approach at getting Mitch to do what he wanted.
“Sure, Dad,” Mitch replied, pushing away from the counter. He rounded the bar, glancing his brother’s way. “You want a cup, Nick?”
If Nicholas caught on that Mitch was using his shortened name on purpose, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, his slightly taller, broader brother nodded. His dark eyes held a gleam of... something, but it’d been so long since Mitch had been close to his brother that he had no hope of deciphering it.
“Sure.”
As Mitch pulled a pair of mugs from the cupboard, he glanced between the men. “Still take your coffee with a dollop of creamer, Dad?” He glanced Nicholas’s way. “And you like it black, right?”
“That’s right, son.”
Nicholas simply nodded.
After pouring coffee into the mugs, Mitch put the carafe back on the warmer. He placed the mugs in front of each man where they stood on the opposite side of the bar. Then he turned to his refrigerator.
Mitch pulled out two canisters of creamer—one vanilla and one pumpkin spice—then turned. After using his hip to bump the fridge door closed, he crossed his small kitchen and placed them on the counter before his father. As he watched, the man picked up the pumpkin spice and poured a bit into his coffee.
Baltus even hummed appreciatively as he set the creamer down.
Picking up his mug, Mitch took a sip and waited. He wondered if his friends would arrive soon. That would be an interesting altercation—his stick-up-his-ass father meeting his down-to-earth, friendly buddies.
“So, getting into real estate,” Baltus commented after taking a drink of coffee. “Was that your boyfriend’s idea?”
Mitch felt his eyes widen. “Wh-What?”
Baltus gave Mitch a smile that could almost be considered fatherly. “I really wished you had told us you were gay instead of... running away from home and wasting all that money by enrolling in some Podunk town’s college.” He shook his head, his expression one Mitch had never seen—regretful? Smiling again, Baltus told him, “Your mother and I never would have disowned you. We would hav
e supported you. You’re our son.” His lips curved into a slight frown. “And disowning a son for being gay is so gauche. Hell, in this day and age, it’s actually good for business if used correctly.”
Having no idea where any of his father’s words were coming from, Mitch felt his tongue tie. He had no response. Glancing at Nicholas, he saw his brother lift his left brow in silent question.
Except, what the hell is the question?
“Look,” Mitch’s father began again. “I understand this is probably a shock to you. We haven’t spoken in so long.”
That was the way Mitch liked it, too.
Baltus leaned down, then straightened, revealing the briefcase he’d been carrying. He set it on the counter, then opened it. From within he pulled a manila envelope before placing it back out of sight.
“You must know that your mother and I only wanted what was best for you, and we still do.”
“And here it comes.” The words were out of Mitch’s mouth before he could help himself. Seeing his father’s eyes narrow just a smidge, he crossed his left arm over his chest as he brought his coffee mug to his mouth. Before taking a sip, Mitch stated, “Is this where you tell me real estate in this area is good for rents, so my choice to buy shouldn’t be to live here, and how I should move back home and—”
“No, no,” Baltus cut in, actually sounding amused. “Not at all. This is where I say I’m very impressed with your choice of partner. I’d never ask you to leave him, but I do want to meet him.”
As Baltus had been speaking, he’d opened the envelope. Pulling out several photos, he lined them up on the counter. “It’s only right that I meet my future son-in-law,” he stated, pointing at a picture. “Especially one who works at Night Wingers, Inc.”
Mitch frowned. “I’m sorry?”
Night Wingers, Inc.? What the fuck is that?
Baltus’s smile turned sly. “Oh, don’t play coy with me, son.” He tapped the pictures, drawing attention to them once more. “Just because you didn’t want to talk to us didn’t mean we didn’t keep an eye on you... for your own safety.”
In other words, Baltus had had someone spying on him.
Just fucking great.
Drawing closer, Mitch finally looked at the pictures. His jaw sagged open. Unable to hide his shock... or embarrassment, he felt his cheeks heat.
Not only were there several pictures of Mitch driving his Mustang through the gargoyle estate’s front gates, but there were several of a much more private nature. The first was of the back of a huge trench-coat clad, white-haired male who was heading in the back door of Mitch’s cottage. Mitch spotted Aziel in that picture, too. It didn’t take a genius for him to realize the big male was Kardamon on the night his buddies had snuck him in there.
The next picture was Kardamon again, this time walking along the side of the strip club. Fortunately, his head was down, so it was impossible to make out his face. Next was Kardamon climbing into his truck, followed by a shot of Mitch climbing into the passenger side of the same vehicle.
It was the final picture that caused Mitch’s face to heat and his blood to fire through his veins. Kardamon’s truck was pulled off the side of the road. Because the brake lights glowed, hazy silhouettes could be made out even through the tinted windows. It showed Kardamon’s big body leaning over Mitch’s.
Mitch could just guess that it was the moment Kardamon had been licking up his spilled seed.
Oh fucking hell. My father must have hopped on a plane immediately following seeing these in order to be here now.
“What do you want?” Mitch whispered, lifting his gaze to his father. “What could you possibly think to gain by showing these to me?” Rubbing his bare chest, Mitch took a step backward as he shook his head. “Is this to try to scare me away from Kardamon? Are you threatening to blackmail him?”
“Kardamon?” Baltus latched onto the name. “Is that your significant other?” He waved his hand dismissively. “You completely misunderstand, son.” His smile actually appeared sincere, happy, even. “I want to welcome the man to our family. The sooner, the better.”
After licking his lips, Mitch lifted his coffee and drained the last of it. He turned back to the carafe and refilled it just to buy some time to think. Mitch even went so far as to start another pot, all the while praying his buddies would show up soon.
Mitch really needed help.
Turning back to his father, Mitch stated, “I’ll ask him.”
That was the best Mitch could do. While Kardamon claimed they were mates, they hadn’t bonded. He had no human form to present to Baltus... and Mitch didn’t know how to give him one.
“Good. You do that.” Baltus smiled once more. “I look forward to meeting him soon.”
Mitch’s phone rang, saving him from responding. Crossing to his counter, he picked up the device. It was Andre.
Frowning, Mitch answered. “You about here?”
“We’re here, but there’s some asshole in a suit outside your door not letting us in,” Andre replied dryly. “What’s up?”
“My father is here.” Mitch’s guess that the driver was also a bodyguard was right. “That must be his goon. Hold on.” Lowering the phone just a little, Mitch turned to his father. “Can you have your stooge let my buddies pass? They were the ones I was expecting when I opened the door for you.”
“Oh, is Kardamon amongst them?”
Mitch fought his desire to roll his eyes. His father’s single-mindedness never ceased to amaze him. “No. These are buddies from college.”
Just what the fuck does he want?
“Well, then.” Baltus set down his mug. “Thanks for the coffee. We’ll get out of your hair.” Picking up his briefcase, he turned and started toward the door. “I look forward to hearing from you soon.”
Nicholas set his mug down and started after their father. He paused just an instant to mouth sorry, then turned away from Mitch. The front door opened as they neared it, revealing the driver.
After his father and brother had filed outside—the driver following them—Mitch’s buddies entered. Andre, Aaden, and Aziel all had similar looks of confusion. It was Aaden who spoke.
“That was your father?”
Mitch nodded.
Aziel crossed straight to the coffee pot. “What did he want?”
“More important,” Andre cut in, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. “What do you need? Is everything okay?”
Heaving a sigh, Mitch bent over and rested his forehead against the counter. “This is all so fucked up!”
Feeling a hand on his back, Mitch sighed heavily. Once he’d straightened, he grabbed his coffee again, and started talking. He told his buddies’ everything... even the embarrassing bits.
All the while he prayed they’d be able to help him come up with a solution.
Chapter Ten
Waking from roost, Kardamon rose from where he crouched. He lifted his hands over his head and stretched. Sighing deeply, he lowered his fists to his hips and stared to the west as the last purple and pink streaks faded to black.
Hearing a noise behind him, Kardamon turned. He watched as Chieftain Maelgwn crossed the flat rooftop toward him. The gargoyle leader was followed by Second Tobias, Enforcer Einan, and Enforcer Sapian.
“Evening, Kardamon,” Chieftain Maelgwn greeted. “Sorry to ambush you first thing, but I need a few minutes of your time.” He motioned toward Sapian, who was carrying a picnic basket. “Let’s get comfortable.”
Kardamon couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared a meal with his chieftain. Concern filling him, he crossed to them, watching Einan spread a picnic blanket. Once that was done, Sapian set the basket on it.
“Have a seat and relax,” Maelgwn ordered. He even smiled. “This isn’t all bad. Really.”
Nodding, Kardamon settled on the blanket, his back to a roof lip. Seeing as his stomach growled, he grabbed the basket and opened it. He spread out over half a
dozen large, plastic containers, then pulled out the hard plastic plates and utensils.
As Kardamon did that, the other gargoyles settled around him. Chieftain Maelgwn began opening the containers, so Kardamon passed out the plates. Tobias placed a massive thermos onto the blanket that Kardamon hadn’t even noticed, just as he spotted the tin mugs lining the bottom of the basket.
“Wow.” Kardamon glanced around the group. “I suddenly feel like I’m in the dark ages again.”
Chieftain Maelgwn chuckled. “Right? All we need is a campfire.”
“Times are infinitely better,” Sapian countered as he grabbed a breakfast burrito from one container. “Like refrigeration and indoor plumbing.”
Tobias laughed. “Not to mention modern medicine.”
Kardamon grabbed a burrito for himself, then a sausage, bacon, and cheese english muffin sandwich. “So,” he began as he grabbed the ketchup. “What’s this all about?”
“We had a visit from Mitch today,” was his chieftain’s surprising response. “It seems you’ve run into a snag that is now impacting the clutch at large.”
“What?” Kardamon clamped down on the ketchup tube in surprise, nearly squirting the stuff all over. He managed to ease his grip before he did more than create a massive puddle on his plate. After he’d set the ketchup down, he dipped his sandwich in it. Before taking a bite, Kardamon glanced around the group. “Please, Chieftain. What do you mean? I actually thought I’d made big strides with Mitch last night, so—” He paused and shrugged.
“We heard... sort of,” Maelgwn told him, giving him a reassuring smile. “Your man is open to bonding, just not to fucking.”
“Tough spot,” Tobias offered in commiseration.
Einan cleared his throat. “Too bad it’s not the other way around. There’s a work-around for that.”
Kardamon chewed thoughtfully as he took in the head enforcer’s slightly flushed green countenance. “Uh”—he swallowed swiftly, so he could finish—”what are you talking about?”
Channeling the Womanizer’s Lust Page 8
