Chapter 16 Seth #2
It wasn’t like the lawyer thing had been any great wound—the guy had clearly been a douche—but it was hard not to have one’s expectations shaped by little things like that.
Seth had adjusted his accordingly, and finding out he’d been interacting with paranormals for literal years without realizing seemed to confirm that he was the opposite of anything special.
And now these three were throwing wrenches into all of it, confusing the worldview Seth had built. Acting like he was extraordinary just as he was. Acting like they were glad to have Riley shackled to him by the hands of fate.
Seth stood in a rush and began searching the kitchen cabinets.
He needed to bake about his feelings or he was going to combust.
By the time Seth had laid out all his ingredients, Riley had returned.
Seth smelled him before he saw him. It was like the rich, earthy scents of the forest had come to invade his kitchen.
Not his kitchen, of course. The moms’ kitchen. Which happened to be suspiciously well stocked with everything a human baker might want or need.
Sneaky, tricky, high-handed vampires.
“I know you’re there,” Seth said when the scent had permeated but Riley had yet to show his face. It was kind of impressive, actually, because Seth hadn’t heard the front door open or any footsteps in the hall.
Maybe he’d find out he was talking to himself after all. Olfactory hallucinations or something.
But then Riley stepped into the doorway, the picture of hangdog regret.
“You shouldn’t lurk,” Seth told him archly. He immediately regretted it. Whatever secrets Riley might have kept, Seth couldn’t bear for Riley to look so horribly wounded again.
But the hangdog expression must have been mostly for show because Riley shamelessly stepped into the kitchen, like Seth had invited him in warmly rather than scolded him on sight. “What are you making?” Riley asked. “Cake?”
He sounded hopeful, and Seth raised his brows at the audacity. “No. You haven’t earned any cake.” He cleared his throat, waving at his ingredients. “I’m making orange rolls.”
Riley perked up in an instant, like Seth using his favorite flavor meant the beginnings of forgiveness. Oh God. Maybe it did.
Ugh. Seth was so weak for this sneaky boy.
“Can I help?” Riley asked.
Seth shrugged, turning away before his face could betray him. He wanted to look crushing, but he probably looked more like he was crushing. “If you like.”
He pulled up the recipe on his phone. Seth had made cinnamon rolls a bunch of times for his old bakery in Seacliff, but the ingredients were slightly different with this variation.
Orange zest and juice in the batter, more orange juice in the icing.
He’d found a manual juicer in the cabinet, and oranges on the counter, so he was making his own juice.
He didn’t want to consider that he might be trying to impress the moms. They were vampires; what did they care if he used store-bought juice?
Plus, they’d kidnapped him. One heart-to-heart with Sybil and he kept conveniently forgetting that.
Anyway. The orange rolls were going to be delicious, was the point, and Seth would get to redirect some of his aggression into kneading bread dough.
He turned to grab his first mixing bowl and yelped when he ran into a warm, hard obstacle. Riley was standing right beside him. Lurking. “Jesus!”
Riley only grinned at him, the lost puppy act well and truly set aside. “What’s first?”
“Getting you a bell.” When Riley’s smile didn’t falter, Seth shook his head. “We’re mixing our yeast.”
They got to work.
Riley was a good helper. Of course he was. He was always attentive, homed in on Seth like a fox with a rabbit. It translated well in the kitchen. The second Seth asked for an ingredient, Riley had it in his hand, fingers brushing lightly against Seth’s palm or wrist with the exchange.
And Riley—pretty predictably—seemed very pleased to have an excuse to stand right next to Seth, or directly behind him, breathing on Seth’s neck in a way that should have been annoying but only left Seth red-cheeked and flustered.
Twice, Riley had to correct Seth when he almost put in the wrong measurements. Twice.
Could he even call himself a baker?
But still, even with him suffocating under the weight of sexual tension, the familiar pattern of putting ingredients together did help lift Seth’s mood a bit. He found himself releasing some of the turmoil of the last twenty-four hours, the stiffness in his frame slowly loosening.
Could he do what Riley had suggested? Let go of we’re meant for each other and focus on do we even want each other?
The problem with that question was, of course, that the answer was a resounding freaking yes.
Because once Seth let go of the constant refrains he’d been using to protect himself—We’re just friends; he’s too young; he has an ancient monster inside him who feeds on blood and wants to claim me for a consort—then it was just…Riley.
And Riley was beautiful, and he smelled like the woods after the rain, and he was…standing very, very close. Always. It wasn’t fair, since his very presence shot little bits of electricity into the air, heating Seth’s skin and setting his nerves alight.
Good assistant or no, Riley made it very hard to focus.
Seth poured the dough from the mixture onto the flour-dusted counter, clearing his throat. “Riley?”
“Yes?” Riley answered from directly behind him, his nose practically pressed against the back of Seth’s head.
Had he been sniffing Seth again?
“Don’t you wish you’d gotten to…experiment more? Before meeting me?”
Riley didn’t even take a pause to think. “No.”
“Why not?” Seth asked as he began kneading the dough.
“I guess partly because…desire isn’t like that for me.
I don’t think about fucking random people.
I don’t think about abstract body parts or, like, isolated acts.
I think about you. Your skin and your scent and what’s under your clothes.
I think about how it would feel to touch you. To slide into you.”
Seth’s lower belly tightened without warning, and he let out a harsh breath. His voice when he spoke came out huskier than he would have liked. “That’s…intense.”
Riley’s sigh ruffled Seth’s curls. “I know. You hate it?”
Seth wanted to lie, but he couldn’t meet that raw honesty with anything but more of the same. “No, I don’t hate it. I’m uncomfortable with how much I like it. I don’t know what it says about me.”
“It says you’re my match.”
Ugh. Seth slapped the dough against the counter. See? Kneading was great for aggression. “Does it? Or do most people thrive off attention? Especially from someone who looks and acts like you?”
“How do I look and act?” Riley asked, all guileless innocence.
Punch. Knead. “Beautiful.” Punch. Knead. “Otherworldly.”
Riley had the gall to sound affronted. “Otherworldly’s a copout. You already know I’m a vampire.”
“Okay. You act like I’m the only thing you see or care about.” Seth could feel Riley’s grin, and he refused to look back and be charmed by it. “That’s not healthy,” he pointed out. Why did he have to keep telling people this? Wasn’t it obvious?
Riley huffed. “I. Don’t. Care. My life hasn’t been healthy. It’s been weird and confusing and sometimes sad.”
God, he kept tugging at Seth’s tender heartstrings. And he knew it, the little sneak. Seth focused on his dough. He was going to cross the line into overworking it at any moment, but he was afraid to stop and have to face Riley for real.
“You think I’m beautiful?” Riley asked after a moment.
Seth let out a wry laugh. “You don’t?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m…off-putting. People stare. In town.”
“People stare because you’re hot. And you can get away with off-putting when you’re hot. It’s called pretty privilege.”
“Pretty privilege.” Riley brushed his fingers softly against the back of Seth’s neck, and Seth tried and failed to control his shiver. “That’s what you have?”
Seth’s cheeks went hot. He finally lifted his hands from the dough, releasing it from his torture. “No. I mean, I get by, but you—” He coughed. “It’s different.”
And then Riley’s hands were on Seth’s hips, turning him to face Riley. He was so close, his dark eyes filled with molten heat. “No, it isn’t,” Riley said softly, his gaze drifting down to Seth’s mouth. “I can’t look at you without wanting to kiss you.”
“You’re a special case,” Seth told him. The words came out in a whisper.
“Seth?”
Seth blinked up at him. “Yes, Riley?”
“I’m going to kiss you.”
Seth sagged in place. This was why he shouldn’t have turned around. He was weak. So weak. “Okay.”
Riley’s mouth came down to claim his. Seth’s hands were useless, covered as they were in sticky dough, and Riley took full advantage. He crowded Seth back against the counter, hips pressing into him, cupping Seth’s face as he directed him exactly where he wanted him.
Riley shouldn’t have been this good at kissing already. It was ludicrous, the way he could make Seth’s knees give out like this, the counter and Riley’s broad body the only thing holding him in place.
It was the hunger that did it. The mix of appetite and restraint, the way Riley licked into him with abandon while holding his face so damn gently. He kissed Seth like he was starving for him, and Seth’s body flooded with arousal.
By the time Riley broke away to kiss at Seth’s upturned jaw, Seth was so hard he ached. He couldn’t seem to catch his damn breath. “If—If you were still wooing me,” he panted, “what would be next?”
Riley nuzzled his nose against the line of Seth’s neck, making his way to a tender spot below Seth’s ear.
“I’d be trying to get you into my bed,” Riley murmured, pressing a hot kiss to Seth’s racing pulse.
His erection was digging into Seth’s hip, and it was only the dough on Seth’s hands that stopped him from sliding his hands into Riley’s jeans and grabbing for it.
“I’d be on my knees begging to fuck you.
I feel like I’ve been waiting an eternity. Forever.”
It hadn’t even been a month since they’d met, but Seth couldn’t bring himself to snark about the time discrepancy. It had been forever, hadn’t it? He needed—God, he just needed.
“We—” Seth let his head fall back, giving Riley more room to work with as he sucked and nibbled on Seth’s neck. “We have to let the dough rise for—for a couple hours.”
Riley made some sort of hum of acknowledgment, pulling the neck of Seth’s T-shirt away so he could lick at Seth’s collarbone.
Seth shouldn’t have let his guard down. It had served a purpose, protecting him from the intensity of Riley’s desire. Now it was like staring directly at the fucking sun, and Seth was melting. Dizzy and hot and melting, like icing left out too long in the heat.
He licked at his lips, chasing Riley’s taste. He couldn’t stop the words from leaving his mouth. “Take me to your room, Riley. You don’t have to beg.”