10. Graeme
Graeme
I meant to get up. I needed to get up. But when I lifted off of Avery and slid as carefully as I could from his body, I found that getting out of bed was impossible.
I didn’t have it in me to leave my mate.
I lay there, facing him as he succumbed to sleep, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes, utterly transfixed by the sight of his long gold lashes lying on his flushed cheeks.
I’d felt the joining, the cogs whirring into place, that moment my grandfather had told me about, the one Stone had raved about, the moment I’d never believed in.
I’d felt the mating. Never in my wildest dreams, in my secret, dark dreams, had I imagined I would find my other half.
I had the most ridiculous urge to carve his name on my chest. I also wanted to lick every inch of his skin. And kiss and bite and then lick again.
Reaching for the covers, I pulled the sheet and comforter over us, tucking them around him, feeling the slight chill on his skin and wanting to make sure he stayed warm.
I might have gathered the strength to leave, it was possible, but he scooched into me, nuzzling his face into the hollow of my throat, inhaling deeply and wedging himself into my chest. I had no choice then but to wrap him in my arms and hold him tight.
In the past, other lovers had complained that I crowded them, suffocated them.
No one wanted to be clutched close as they slept; it was too much.
I had always craved it, though, giving shelter, protection, but no bed partner had ever allowed it.
Avery, my mate, my omega, craved the possession, the domination, even in sleep.
I heard his contented sigh, and I smiled like an idiot.
“You’re perfect,” I husked into his hair, rubbing my face in the thick golden mop.
I wasn’t sure when I succumbed to sleep.
The poking was annoying, had been since we were children. He knew I hated it when he tapped incessantly on my temple, and yet he did it anyway. One of these days when I killed Stone and made Gigi a widow, he was going to be sorry that he––
“Why?” I grumbled, opening my right eye—not brave enough to open both—and rolling my head on the pillow so I could see him. The only light in the room came from the gas fireplace he must have turned on when he walked in, and the soft glow from the hurricane lamp on my nightstand.
“It’s six in the evening,” my brother informed me cheerfully, giving me a nod and a grin for good measure.
He looked good in his navy Prada suit, and I had to wonder where he was off to. “You and Gigi going out?” It was Saturday night, after all, and they had a million friends to field invitations from.
He shook his head, still with the annoying smile, indulgent, like he knew something that I…I—
I jolted hard, which upset Avery, who was sleeping in my arms. He blinked several times, trying, I was sure, to get his bearings, squinting up at my brother.
“Hi,” he acknowledged Stone.
“Good evening, Avery,” my brother greeted him kindly, smiling at my mate.
“I’ll wait until you’re vertical and dressed to welcome you to the family.
But”—he tapped the Omega De Ville Prestige watch I’d bought him for his birthday in August—“it’s now five after six, and as your parents and siblings will be here in less than an hour, I thought perhaps you and my brother might want to rise.
Greeting people when you reek of cum isn’t polite, don’t you agree? ”
“What?” Avery gasped, turning to me, eyes wide. “I don’t even have—oh dear God,” he moaned, sitting up and covering his face with his hands.
I growled at my brother, who took a step back in self-preservation, still grinning like he was enjoying all of this immensely, which, of course, he was. “I told Kat to go to Avery’s place and––”
“It’s all here,” Stone informed me, “on his side of the closet, but honestly, shopping is paramount and should be on the top of your to-do list. His wardrobe is a quarter the size of yours, and I can’t even begin to calculate how it compares to mine.”
Stone was a bit of a clotheshorse, as well as whatever the equivalent was for shoes.
“He also has a cat, did you know?”
“No, I—was it brought along?”
“Of course it was brought along,” Stone snapped at me.
“And it’s not an it , he’s a he , and he’s here in the suite.
Jane had the small sitting room across the hall renovated for his food and litter box, and well, if you ask me, she’s going a bit overboard with what she’s having done, but far be it from me to––”
“We’ve never had a pet besides fish.” Was all I could think of to say.
“And they don’t count, as they don’t sleep on the end of the bed.”
“I don’t mean to be rude,” Avery interrupted, “but my folks are on the way, so could you get out so Graeme can show me where my clothes are, and then the shower so I can actually be clean and shaved before my mother shows up?”
“Yes, of course.” Stone smirked at me before he walked to the door leading to the outer suite, opened it, and kept walking, heedless of the fluffy white panther he let into my bedroom.
“That’s your cat?” I asked Avery, watching as the creature lifted his head, sniffed the air, and then made the oddest trilling noises, almost a grumble, before he quickly crossed the room, leaped gracefully onto the bed, and walked over to Avery.
“Yep,” Avery assured me, grinning. “Twenty-eight pounds of pure power.”
I’d never seen a bigger housecat in my life.
“Hi, Maxie,” he greeted his pet happily, and seeing him calm as the beast got close, then dip his chin as the cat lifted his so they could rub foreheads, made my stomach flutter.
It was ridiculous, but even if the cat hated me—as most animals, horses, dogs, birds did not like alphas—I would allow the creature to live under my roof. Avery and his pet clearly adored each other. “Is it some kind of illegal breed?”
He turned to me as the cat flopped into his lap and purred loudly, like the engine of a motorboat.
“He’s a Maine Coon,” Avery informed me, petting the cat and scratching behind his ears.
“I saved him from a hoarding situation when he was a kitten, like my second or third day as a cop, and he’s been with me ever since.
He’s not much for people, so don’t be upset if… he—huh.”
The cat rose from Avery’s lap, walked the inches between us to me, and climbed into my lap.
He was heavier than I thought he would be, but when he made himself comfortable and looked up at me, I was compelled to pet him.
His fur was like silk, and when he purred, his eyes narrowing, I glanced over at my mate and saw the delight on his face.
Yes, the cat and I were good. The cat could stay, had to stay, because having his pet here would help Avery to think of my home as his.
And who was I kidding before? What I would allow, as though the choices of what came into the house and what stayed were mine alone.
Avery was as empowered as I was; he was my mate.
“He likes you,” Avery stated happily, leaning sideways to kiss me.
As he slid his hand around the side of my neck, holding me there to prolong the kiss, parting his lips, his tongue slipping inside my mouth to mate with mine, I realized I never, for the rest of my life, wanted to wake up without this man.
Breaking the kiss, Avery leaned back, threw the covers off, and headed toward the door. “Okay,” he announced, “come help me find my crap so we can get this show on the road!”
When Avery got off the bed, Max followed him, making the grumbling noise again, and I already missed his company—what that was about, I had no idea.
“No,” I heard Avery tell the cat before I scrambled off the bed to catch up with him, “we’re setting new boundaries. You watching me shower has always been creepy as hell, and you know it!”
I couldn’t stop smiling as I darted through the suite, naked, after him.
Avery must have said a hundred times how much he loved my shower.
I, of course, was thrilled to hear it, and enjoyed watching my mate with his head thrown back, eyes closed, water sluicing over his wide shoulders, broad chest, flat stomach, round ass, and down his long, muscular legs.
All the burnished gold skin made me ache to touch.
“Get in,” he demanded, and though under different circumstances I would have bristled at being ordered about—no one but my grandfather got away with it—I heard the teasing in Avery’s tone, saw the warmth in his eyes, and immediately did as I was told.
The fact that he kissed my shoulder on his way out sent a roll of heat through my entire body.
I was already ridiculously attached.
He wasn’t in the bedroom waiting for me, so I went to check the rest of the suite, the chairs in the reading nook, and I even went out on the balcony overlooking the garden—though why he’d be out there when it was cold was beyond me. He wasn’t there.
Leaving my suite, I headed for the stairs at the end of the hall.
My home wasn’t small. The mansion measured 25,000 square feet, was built on eight city lots, and had luxuries like a media room, a game room, an Olympic-size indoor pool, and a gym and spa.
The finery—the chandeliers, curving grand staircase, polished wooden floors with marble inlays, and cavernous vaulted ceilings were merely part of its aesthetic.
Scattered about the grounds were ornate fountains, a reflecting pool, and manicured gardens.
It was a lovely house, but the cottage I owned in Portree, on the Isle of Skye, in Scotland, was my favorite.
It was small, cozy, and quiet. The sea air always soothed me, and I couldn’t wait to show it to Avery…
if I ever found him again. Where the hell was my mate?
Turning into the great room, a toy mouse flew by me, followed by Max, who looked even bigger in full running mode.