Chapter Eight
George
It didn’t take my mate long to revert to his default settings the demon side warned about. Sitting across from him at his small kitchen table, George could see Scott’s fingers were already twitching as if he wanted to straighten out George’s things. There had been one brief moment when the two men first woke up, where Scott’s hair was mussed in the most delicious fashion, and he was squirming in George’s arms trying to almost disappear under his skin as they’d kissed and rocked together, where George felt in tune with his mate.
But the moment they’d climaxed, and George murmured something about breakfast, it was like someone had flipped a switch. The officious Scott, who George had first seen at the hospital, was back, and so were George’s insecurities that had him fleeing the hospital in the first place.
Now, dressed in another smart suit that reinforced George’s belief that demons could be clothed with a snap of their fingers in either form, his hair immaculate, his phone on the table beside his now empty plate, and a laptop open, it was as if Scott had built a wall between himself and the comfortable messiness of George’s home and even George himself.
We need to address this now. Our mate’s not comfortable in our space. George’s bear didn’t understand why, and George could feel the hint of sadness in his bear’s concerns. George had set up his house as his safe space, one where he was the most comfortable. Just as he was trying to think how to broach the subject, Scott broke their silence first.
“I failed you yesterday.”
George double blinked. “You came to find me in the forest. How was that a failure? Are you regretting your decision?”
There was a pause, and then Scott shook his head. “Not at all,” he said quietly. “Back at the hospital, you asked me to help you find out about the paramedic who drugged you, preventing your shift. I was… unsuccessful.” He was looking down at his laptop keys as if they held the answer to life.
“I can find out in other ways. Request to see my records, something like that.” To be honest, George had forgotten he’d even asked Scott in the first place. “It was probably wrong of me to ask you.” Especially considering I was just making excuses for you to leave. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But I do.” The concern in Scott’s eyes struck George as his mate looked up at him. “You seemed genuinely worried that someone was out to get you. It’s my job…” Scott snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. “Sorry. My demon reminded me that bears are very protective and don’t like to be perceived as weak or needing to be looked after. What I meant to say is that as you are my blissful one, I’m concerned if you have people after you. Can you tell me more about it?”
“Perceived as weak? Is that what you think of me?” George pinched the top of his nose and then rubbed between his eyes as he wrestled any inappropriate response he didn’t want to fire back. “I… I have a family… not that I ever have anything to do with them anymore. But I have a family who think… who thought… Damn it all to hell, I don’t like sharing something like this.”
“Understood. Fine.” The tone suggested Scott was anything but fine, and George winced as he caught the pain his words caused through their bond. Scott tapped his laptop. “Just answer me this, then, my blissful one. Why is there no reference to George Maybank anywhere online? Who are you really?”
Shit. “I paid a lot of money for all references to George Maybank to be wiped from companies that hold their data online,” George said stiffly. “I am George Maybank. I legally changed my name about ten years ago, just before I moved here. My original name is unimportant, but suffice to say…” George sighed.
How the hell do I put this?
“Do you remember that spunk of mine you licked off your lovely lips this morning?” Scott’s cheeks became slashed with pink, and his nod was jerky. “If you’d slapped that into a jar instead, it wouldn’t take you long to find a buyer for it. You’ve clearly got the skills on the web.”
George watched as a myriad of emotions flashed over Scott’s face. The wide eyes, the frown, the confusion, and then, just as fast, his professional expression was back. “Are you someone important, from a genetic standpoint?”
“Not in my opinion, no. I’m just a regular bear, making a living as a taxi driver—a job I like because my passengers don’t care if I’m surly. I can work my own hours, and there’s no dress code. So long as my bits remain covered, no one complains.”
“Then why…?” Scott tilted his head slightly, his eyes glazing over, and then he frowned. “Who put a value on your spunk?”
George chuckled, tickled by the possessiveness of his demon. “Your pretty blue demon clearly doesn’t like the idea. Is he reading you the riot act?”
The blush was back, but Scott’s jaw was tight. “Neither one of us enjoys the idea that someone wants your juices for nefarious purposes. You consider me your mate. Don’t I have a right to know what’s going on?”
Scott was right, and George didn’t need the nudge he got from his bear. Pushing his chair back, George collected their empty mugs and went over to the coffee pot. “My father’s considered important in some circles,” he said slowly, focusing on getting coffee into the mugs. “Growing up, there were certain behaviors I was expected to participate in, which I didn’t because I believed them to be immoral, indecent, and unnecessarily cruel.” George closed his eyes as memories flooded his mind. “My beliefs were not well received,” he said, determined his sweet little blue demon didn’t need all the details.
“People hurt you? They physically punished you? Your family did this to you?”
George focused on counting sugars as he spooned them into his mug. Clearly his mate could get impressions through their bond the same as he could, and while Scott’s growl was cute, it wasn’t necessary. “After it was determined I wasn’t going to live the way my father expected, he decided I was to copulate with others in the clan, with the sole purpose of spreading my genetics. My father’s idea was that as I wasn’t up to his standards, behavior-wise, he would raise my son in his image instead. He didn’t take my refusal well.”
Picking up the mugs carefully, George took them back over to the table. “It’s become a matter of principle for him. For all I know, my father has since had another son of his own and has completely given up on harvesting my spunk. I don’t know. What I know is that I should never have been drugged at the accident site. There was no way I should’ve been put in a hospital and just left there. Call me a conspiracy theorist if you must, but I’ve been watching over my shoulder for years, and for good reason. Nothing that happened immediately after the accident makes sense.”
“I’ll get that information about the paramedic for you.” Scott nodded, and George noticed his fingers were twitching again. “I think you’d be safer at my house in the meantime, don’t you? Just in case someone tracks you from the hospital to here. I have the best security measures money can buy. You’ll be completely safe there.”
“I’m not sure I would fit in your place, sweetie.” The ‘sweetie’ he added to try and soften his words, but George looked at Scott’s smart suit with its sharp creases and not a stain in sight and then down at the raggy, but very comfortable, sweatpants he’d thrown on to maintain some modesty while they were eating. “I’m not exactly tidy.”
“It won’t matter.” Scott was apparently determined. “George, they drugged you. That could happen again. No one will find you at my place. I need you to be safe.”
Scratching the back of his neck, George nodded, even though his gut was screaming at him it was a bad idea. “I can join you there later if you like,” he said. “I’ve got to hunt out the papers for my insurance for my cab, organize a replacement vehicle, and things like that. Were there things you needed to do at the office today, or…” he trailed off. It’s not like he knew what Scott did all day, apart from looking like a wet dream walking in his suit.
“I’ll get my place ready and stop off at work and finish up a few things there.” Scott’s smile made George’s discomfort worth it. “I can even get some cushions to make it comfortable for you.”
“Don’t change anything on my account, sweetie.” This is going to be a disaster.