Chapter Four #2
I get out of the car, a little bothered that Elliot didn’t hear my car in his driveway. But that doesn’t deter the goofy smile that I know he loves despite his constant denial.
Hitting the doorbell makes Mickey finally pay attention to someone other than Elliot. It’s hard, I know. He barks up a storm.
“Yeah, yeah, I would have loved it if you had opposable thumbs too. You could have helped me with chores,” Elliot says as he swings the door open.
Mickey barges out from under him and demands pets while complaining.
“Be careful what you wish for, bud. Elliot is lying. He’ll make you do all the chores if you had thumbs,” I warn the poor guy. Elliot tries to fight a smile.
Mickey barks some more, moving his large body between my legs.
“Well, he needs to pay for his food and board some way,” he says.
I laugh, and Elliot lets himself smile. He looks lighter, happy. I hate to bring up the topic that would make him decidedly unhappy and worried. Maybe after dinner?
Herding Mickey in, I close the door behind me. He rushes inside, giving me a moment with Elliot.
I pull him in, and he comes in easily enough, getting on his tiptoes seeking my mouth just as desperately as I crave him. Electricity zings through me when I have his lips on mine, his body wrapped around me.
Mine.
I push him against the wall, my tongue sliding into his mouth. He groans, the sound traveling to my very core. My world narrows down to his smell, his taste, his fingers grabbing at my hair and clutching my T-shirt, his heat against me. I don’t want this to stop. I don’t ever want him away.
“I’m quitting my job,” I announce when we come up for air.
He laughs, the sound musical. “Which one?”
“All of them.” I nod and chase his mouth again.
He smiles against my mouth. Then pushes me away.
“I’m not taking responsibility for two jobless men,” he declares and walks out of my embrace. Then follows Mickey.
“But I do have opposable thumbs that are great for chores.” I walk after him, appreciating the view a little too much.
He flops down on the couch. Mickey leaves his spot beside the window and lies down on his feet. “I’m going to have to see some proof. How about getting dinner ready, and we’ll go from there?”
I bow to him. “Whatever you need, Master.”
His eyes glaze over.
“Oh, that does it for you?”
He blinks, coming out of the haze. “What? No. What are you making?”
I smirk but let him change the topic. It’ll be better explored in the bedroom after dinner anyway.
Washing my hands and rolling my sleeves up, I get started on dinner. Elliot joins me once I’ve lined up the veggies on the counter. He pulls out the knife and takes some of them off my hands.
“So, was it a Bureau job or a police job?” he asks as he chops the carrots into different sizes. God, he’s bad at this.
I let him continue because he seems proud to be helping. The pieces are bigger than I need them to be, so I can fix them later anyway. “Bureau. A quick one, but I had to spend the entire day in a car with Sloan, so it was not easy.”
“She’s alright,” he says, concentrating hard on the carrots as he brings the knife down slowly in an uneven motion.
His movements are careful as I mix the dressing. “Weren’t you a trained serial killer?”
His hand stops, and he trains a glare at me. “Do you want to experience how I killed?”
His knife is now in the air. I laugh. “Here, I’ll teach you.” I move behind him, my arms sliding alongside his in a knockoff Ghost imitation. I cover his palm. Bringing the carrot closer, I guide him through the chopping.
His breathing grows shallow, and his heartbeat drums in my ears. “This is so cheesy,” he complains, but doesn’t push me away.
I sneak in a kiss on his head, and a sharp smell of his lavender shampoo washes over me. “Focus, Elliot. There might be a quiz later.” I move closer until I’m plastered against him. My dick takes notice that we aren’t just cooking anymore.
His breath hitches when it grazes his ass. His hand goes lax under mine while I continue chopping the poor carrot. It’s practically mush now, and there’s no fixing it. “You seem really into the idea of quizzing. I’m discovering a lot about you today.” His voice is low, closer to a whisper.
I huff out a laugh. “What can I say? You bring out the weirdest kinks in me.” Leaning down, I pick up another carrot from the pile.
Do we need this many carrots? I bury my face in his neck, still moving the knife, albeit a little slowly, like he’ll disappear if I don’t have a reason to keep him here.
I pepper his neck with kisses, working my way up to his ear. “Are you paying attention?” I whisper.
I feel the shiver in his entire body. It makes my dick harder. It’s all in on the action. Elliot drops the knife and turns around in my arms. “We can finish this later,” he suggests.
I nod. “Yeah, let—” Mickey’s demanding bark interrupts all my nice plans.
Elliot sighs. “Right, I’ll get him food. You finish up here.” He ducks out of my arms.
I watch him walk away. Right, making dinner. That’s what we’re doing. We can continue later. I have to tell him about the new case before he's too sleepy to talk anyway. I only have one and a half hours of fully awake Elliot to do that.
Putting a spring in my step, I quickly chop all the veggies for the salad, then toss them with the dressing. I plate it and bring it to the living room, where Elliot is now sitting with the television on. “I put on the episode where we left off,” he says.
I take a second to admire his casual demeanor, but his eyes give away how much he cares. They always do.
He tilts his head. “What?”
I shake my head and walk to him. He plays the episode as soon as I’ve put the plates down. I take the remote from him and pause it. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”
He turns towards me. “Yeah?” He looks at me with a worried expression, like he’s bracing for something.
That confuses me. “Uh… So the meeting I had the other day was about a murder.”
His shoulders visibly relax at my words. “Okay?”
“A werewolf found dead in his home.” I keep my plate down too. What was I thinking, breaking the news over dinner? This was not a dinner-table conversation.
His perpetual frown gets deeper. “What are you saying, Nicholas?” His voice is low.
“They found Valmeron and Myocardiner in his system.”
His eyes go wide. “What?” It comes out barely a whisper. “How is that possible?”
“I’m trying to figure that out. But I wanted you to know—”
“I stopped. I swear it wasn’t me. I stopped after Arizona—”
Closing the gap between us, I grab his arms. “I know. Hey. Hey, I know, okay? I’ll find out who it was.”
He stands up and starts pacing the living room. “How could this even be happening? No one even knew they were murdered. How can someone copy murders that weren’t reported as murders?”
My gaze follows him as he walks frantically. “The agents are on it, and I’m spending all my time on this case. Don’t worry, I promise—”
“I need to call Sam.” He almost runs to the kitchen where he presumably left his phone.
“Of course, you do,” I say under my breath, only half-snarky. In my defense, that wasn’t the reaction I expected. Alright, he wasn’t going to crumple in my arms, letting me protect him from the world. But running straight to Sam?
I have an entire tech team on my side. What can Sam add to the investigation?
Sure, he needs to know about this because he was the other half of the Vigilante Wolf Hunter, and someone is imitating him too.
Fine, he’s known Elliot longer, and talking to him will comfort him… okay, I’m being an asshole.
Sighing, I follow Elliot and hear him talking to the man I’m suddenly jealous of.
Elliot is disconnecting the call when I reach him. He turns to face me, looking visibly calmer than he did a minute ago. “He’s on his way. Would it be alright if we discuss it together?”
He looks so hopeful, there’s no way I can say no. “I don’t mind telling him about the Bureau if you trust him to keep the secret?” I have enough dirt on him to keep him quiet either way.
Elliot nods. “He won’t tell anyone.”