Chapter 9 Ongoing Theme #2
Oh, and they had a child on the way. Oh, and the reason George’s wife was not here to help her husband fill Cecil’s mind with scarring visual images of their sex life was because she was currently test driving the most recent of dicks.
Apparently, the mystery man, who Cecil sincerely hoped he would never meet, was on his way to becoming a permanent addition in their relationship.
Now, Jack. Jack was a nature elf. The man stood just shy of six foot, was a bit on the thin side, had pointed ears, deep-brown skin with red undertones, and short grass-green hair.
Jack, unlike George, was very single. But he was on the lookout for the love of his life.
And Jack had happily informed Cecil that he hoped that the person was into paddles because he liked being spanked.
But he didn’t want a full-on dominatrix, as he wasn’t into whipping, just a light ass reddening.
Though candle wax, ropes, possibly dildos and gags, were okay.
But no real pain, as Jack wasn’t into that.
And how did Cecil know all of this? Well, the two lovely men kept leaning over to talk to him. Because they had apparently decided that Cecil was their new best friend, and therefore, needed to know everything about them.
More so Jack. Cecil was almost positive that at one point the man had put his elbow in Benji’s food.
Cecil just couldn’t understand it. How was any of that okay? And who the hell would sit back and put up with it? Jack was so far into Benji’s personal space at times that he was practically sitting on his lap. Yet, Benji kept smiling like an idiot and giving Cecil a thumbs up.
At least, Roth had acted like any sane person would. George had stayed put the minute Roth had threatened to tie him to his chair if he didn’t cut it out. Too bad Roth hadn’t threatened anyone else.
Cecil wanted to scream. By the Gods, hadn’t these people ever heard the phrase ‘too much information’? Or just the word oversharing? Why the fuck would he want to know about someone else’s sex habits? What the hell was wrong with them?
Oh, Gods, please, someone, anyone, end this, Cecil thought with desperation. He couldn’t deal with hearing another one of Jack’s sex stories.
Wait…he had finished eating. He also had opened every ridiculous gift they had bought for him. Cecil could leave now, right?
As he stood, the conversations around the table stopped. And now they were all blatantly staring at him—motherfuckers!
Face pinched, he started to sit down again, but shot back up when Sin appeared in the doorway—a way out!
Cecil shuffled over to Sin and tentatively latched onto his shirt. “Sin, hey, big guy. We need to talk.”
“We do?” Sin asked with a grin, his eyes lighting up with humor.
“Yes!” Cecil snapped. He narrowed his eyes, just daring Sin to debate him and ruin his escape plan.
“Ye’re back early,” Roth cut in.
Sin opened his mouth to answer, no doubt to give a long drawn-out explanation as to why, but Cecil stopped him. “Yes, yes, you guys can catch up later. I really need to talk to you, like now,” Cecil said, while he started pushing Sin back out the doorway.
Sin seemed startled by his actions, but went along. And while everyone at the table laughed, they didn’t interfere.
Sin allowed himself to be pushed along, past the first door at the end of the hallway, before moving out of the way of Cecil’s hands. “Cecil, that is quite enough. I have no issue with you using me to escape, however, this is a bit much,” Sin groused.
“I’m sorry,” Cecil said after clearing his throat. “But…they are fucking insane.”
Sin let out an undignified snort, a sound Cecil would never in a million years have thought the man was capable of making.
“First, language. Second, they are not insane, they are lively. I suppose, considering what you are used to, they may seem overly friendly. But I assure you, they are all good people,” Sin asserted as he leaned back against the wall.
Crossing his arms, Cecil glared and decided to completely ignore Sin’s reprimand about his swearing. “Good people, my ass! More like perverts! Who the hell tells someone they just met that they like being spanked and tied up? Who the fuck does that?”
Sin straightened away from the wall with a frown.
“It appears I must speak to my group about oversharing and proper conversations at the dinner table. I apologize, Cecil, you must have felt very uncomfortable. I want this to be a place where you feel safe, and it seems I am failing in that matter. I really hope you give us another chance.”
Damn, why did the man have to sound so sincere? It made it so much harder for him to stay mad.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Cecil looked away. “Well…I mean…it’s not really your fault. They are the ones who did it.”
“Nonetheless, they are my responsibility, and they should be able to keep a civil tongue. It would be a problem if they talked about such things in front of those who come to us for help. Or in court.”
“I suppose, that’s true,” Cecil muttered.
Sin said nothing after that. While he wasn’t one for chatter, mostly because he usually didn’t have anyone to talk to, the silence between them bothered him. It made him feel awkward—which apparently was an ongoing theme for him today. But what should he talk about?
Well, he could ask about the box Sin was holding…a box Cecil just now noticed because he had been too focused on his plan of escape to actually pay attention to anything else.
“What is that?” He pointed.
Sin blinked, and his gaze followed down to where Cecil was pointing. “Ah, it’s a chocolate French silk pie. I bought it on my way home.”
“I hate to tell you this, but that is not going to feed everyone.”
“I am aware.” The man laughed. “There are six more in the kitchen. Usually, only a few are left at the table by this time. I would have brought all of them to the dining room if I had known everyone was still there.”
Son of a bitch, Cecil thought with a growl. He knew there was no way people could eat that fucking slowly. Those assholes had kept him trapped for hours!
Sin let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. “It appears…there is another talk I will be having with my people. It was rude of them to keep you so long for their own selfish wants.”
The man’s tone had the corners of Cecil’s lips twitching. Sin had sounded as exasperated as an adult would with an errant child.
“Well…” Sin slowly grinned, holding up the box. “In light of their actions, I would say none of them deserve a treat of any kind right now. Would you be up for having a slice with me in the kitchen?”
Chocolate—Cecil couldn’t remember if he liked it or not.
The last time he’d had any was before his mother had left when he was six.
His father never bothered with the sweet stuff.
And when he started buying food for himself, during the stretches of time he spent in the streets, he bought bread and things that would last him a while.
Candy bars and whatnot were not a necessity.
Oh. By. The. Gods. He loved chocolate! Cecil moaned around his fork. Oh, it was downright criminal how many years he had gone without it.
Fuck bread, Cecil thought. Chocolate was so worth however much it cost.
“I take it you approve,” Sin said, letting out a deep chuckle.
Narrowing his eyes, he lied, “It’s okay.” Because his mouth was full, the words had come out a bit incoherent, but he was sure Sin would understand—probably. He was not surprised by the reprimand that followed his garbled words.
“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full,” Sin stated calmly.
Cecil grunted in response as he sank his fork back in. Before shoving it into his mouth, he scooped up some cream that had managed to fall off. When he swallowed the sweet deliciousness, Sin held a napkin in front of his face.
“You have cream on your nose.” The corners of Sin’s lips were twitching.
As his cheeks heated, Cecil grabbed the napkin and rubbed his face roughly while Sin went back to eating.
Sin’s every bite was careful, not a single crumb dared to drop. Damn, the man ate just like he dressed—sophisticatedly. Though, Sin wasn’t dressed to the nines, as he usually was.
He was still wearing a dress shirt and black slacks, and his hair was still annoyingly perfect.
But his tie, vest, and suit jacket were missing, and his shiny shoes had been replaced with black slippers.
Without the jacket, Cecil was able to see the way Sin’s hard muscles bunched each time the man moved.
It was distracting and super irritating. Why the hell did Sin’s shirt have to mold to his chest so perfectly?
When a smear of cream got left behind on Sin’s top lip, the man seductively licked most of it away before wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Okay, it hadn’t really been seductively, it had been more of a quick action.
Even so, Cecil’s gaze had followed Sin’s tongue and he had found it way too hot for his own good. Meaning, little Cecil had perked up a bit.
What the hell was wrong with him lately? Lusting after a man you just met and don’t trust, and who may possibly throw you in jail, is not a good idea, Cecil scolded himself.
His hope of preventing the oncoming embarrassment rested in Sin’s hands. That hope being that Sin was too distracted by pie to notice any scent of arousal coming from him.
When the man frowned around his fork, Cecil knew he was utterly boned.
Cecil groaned—ugh, fuck his life all to hell.