Chapter 9
Peter
Peter waited while Theo vanished up the staircase, then took the elevator himself. Celeste was in front of the bar tonight, her hand resting on a glass of water with a thin slice of lime and plenty of ice.
“Peter,” she said when he walked in. She greeted him with the standard kiss to each cheek. “Should we find a quiet place to talk?”
“I’d like that,” Peter purred, and she slapped his shoulder.
“Not that I would say no, but I know who you’re here for. Don’t get my hopes up.”
He let her lead him to the playroom she used when she entertained.
It was all lilac, purple, and rose colors, soft cushions draped on ottomans and on the floor, and plenty of silk restraints.
Peter knew Celeste also kept crops and floggers in a drawer, as well as a selection of masks and other fun things.
Before opening, she’d given him a tour, showing him what she’d built.
“Should we sit?” she asked.
“This won’t take very long,” Peter said. “It’s really quite simple. I find myself in a somewhat…delicate situation.”
“Is that why you came in with one of my employees on your arm today?”
Her tone was light, but that didn’t fool Peter.
“You may or may not know that he has a bad vampire in his past.”
Her professional mask shifted. “Shit. I…he worked online by himself at first. That’s how we met. I told him he could work here. What happened?”
Peter shrugged. “It was broad daylight out, so not much. It was pure luck I ran into him though. Into Theo.”
Celeste smoothed her expression out. “Who?”
“Puck. He told me. Celeste, you know me. The vampire wanted to grab him outside the university library. I happened to be there, took him home with me.”
“Did you punch that vampire?”
“Yes.”
She sat on an ottoman. “Good. I thought you had a savior complex for a while, but maybe it’s just scary good timing.”
“Begging your pardon?” Peter looked around but wasn’t sure where he should sit. The bench was not for sitting, judging by the restraints, and he didn’t want to give Celeste any ideas, so he remained standing.
“You know I’m not a romantic, but he… Peter, I care for Theo. A lot. He started as a camboy early, and he was good. Behind the camera too. He’s smart.”
And so pretty. Sweet too. “No doubt.”
She crossed her legs. “I knew you would like him.”
“Oh, me liking him would not be a problem, Celeste. If I just liked him, I could come here once a week, and that would be that.” Peter sighed. “I told him I want his blood, that it tasted like ambrosia to me. Well, I may have phrased it differently. I made him hot chocolate.”
Celeste’s eyebrows flew up. “You made Theo hot chocolate? In the middle of summer?”
Peter crossed his arms to keep himself from pacing. “You are missing the point, Celeste.” She was also missing how good his hot chocolate was.
“The point is that you took him home,” Celeste said. “I didn’t miss that, I just thought the hot chocolate was weirder.”
Oh, the never-ending bother that came with other people’s judgment. “Forget about the chocolate,” Peter said, once more not bothering to point out how good it was, no matter the ambient temperature. “The point is, I took Theo home with me, and I want to keep him there.”
Celeste nodded along. “You know, Theo isn’t really made for this life. The camboy thing, sure. But this? I could tell during training.” She shrugged. “But he needed the job. Which is why I hired him.”
“Only to set me up with him?”
Celeste innocently brushed her fingers through her beard. “I introduced you, and nothing more.”
Peter narrowed his eyes at her. Celeste had learned to be tough where she needed to be, not just in this business, but also when people looked at her and failed to see her, really see beyond the outer appearance. Deep down, she had a stubborn motherly streak.
“At any rate, I told Theo I’d write up a contract to get exclusive access to his blood, told him I’d work something out with you so he wouldn’t lose his job here. I assume that isn’t going to be a problem.”
Celeste leveled a thoughtful gaze at Peter. “You want him to keep on working nights? Peter, you already booked the entire week with him, so you obviously don’t want him seeing other men or women. I thought you were good at contracts and all of that?”
Peter was wondering that too. He wondered whether just a bit of compulsion wouldn’t have made all of this easier, both for himself and for Theo, but that was a fleeting, dangerously possessive thought, and he pushed it far away from him.
“Theo wants his independence, and I have no desire at all to take that away from him. I will not make him a prisoner of my selfish needs, Celeste.”
“You just don’t want him to really work while he works?” The look in her eyes was sharp and her insights even sharper.
Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maybe. I don’t know. No. I mean, yes. If he wants to work, I won’t stop him. I have no right to.”
The way Celeste stared him down made Peter feel uncomfortable, so he scowled right back at her. Heavens, if this human was not intimidated by his scowl, how would Peter ever get the succubus at the office to cry?
“Mm-hmm.” Celeste tapped a finger against the upholstery of her ottoman. “As you say. How old are you again?”
“I never mentioned it because it is none of your business.”
“Not old enough then, for the wisdom to really settle in. I’m assuming me participating in this…ruse, for lack of a better term, is your favor, so fine. I’ll tell security not to let in any vampires they don’t recognize and escort him in and out, no matter what.”
Peter nodded. “That would be good. Thank you.”
“Did you tell him you had already made plans to see him tonight?” Celeste asked.
“No.”
Celeste grinned up at him, recrossing her legs.
“That’ll be a surprise then.”
Of course she was right. Oh, the bother.
Peter thought that in the grand scheme of things, it could’ve been worse.
If he’d had no idea supernaturals existed, that would be worse.
I’d be in the same position Micheal was in, having to find the right time to tell him.
Considering that, surely he cannot fault me for paying for the entire night?
Celeste pushed Peter out of her playroom. “Go upstairs and let Kira show you to a suite. I’ll send him after you. Oh, and I know I don’t have to tell you to be careful about using his real name because you’re a careful, circumspect man, but just in case, remember to call him Puck on the floor.”
“Obviously.” Peter straightened his suit, satisfied that he had put in the effort this morning to find the right tie at least.
Celest gave him another peck on the cheek. “Also, be good to him. Or I’ll cut off your balls,” she said sweetly.
Peter frowned at her. “Promise.”
“Good boy, Peter.”
She headed back to the bar with measured steps.
Peter looked toward the social rooms, but he couldn’t see Theo anywhere there. Is he still changing? I wonder what he’s going to wear.
Stifling a sigh, Peter made his way up the stairs and let the werewolf show him to a room.
It wasn’t the one they’d been in yesterday, but one similarly designed, with gold wallpaper and deep blue covers.
The lighting was low, and a selection of lube and condoms was set up alongside the refreshments.
Peter considered sitting on the bed, but that would make him look like a bride on her wedding night, and he was far removed from that level of innocence.
In addition, Peter had no intention of forcing Theo into a physical relationship, no matter what he had paid for when he’d negotiated this with Celeste.
He stood in front of the selection of condoms, his mind drifting.
I wouldn’t mind a physical relationship with Theo.
Just looking at him with his black hair and those jade eyes…
Peter could see himself enjoying intimacy with Theo.
Not in any selfish way. Selfishness got boring very quickly when it came to physical pleasure, and after a few hundred years, Peter had given up on it.
Instead, he’d discovered that the true joy was having another person there to act and react in unforeseen ways.
Getting Theo to a point of total trust, of totally falling into Peter, that would be a goal to pursue.
The door opened, and Peter turned. Theo stood there, framed by the somewhat brighter lighting in the hallway. His jaw dropped and his hand froze on the door handle.
Peter tried his hardest to smile sweetly. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you.” He glanced away for a second.
Theo collected himself, walked into the room, then closed the door behind him. He ran a hand through his wild hair. He wore a sheer shirt tonight that was beautifully revealing without totally spoiling the mystery.
“What the hell is this? You didn’t say anything about fucking earlier.”
Peter shook his head. “There’s no need to do that. I’m equally happy to enjoy your company.” He pointed to the selection of bottled and canned drinks. “There’s…soda. And things.”
Theo ground his jaw. “This is not how this works, vampire. You don’t get to come in here and pay for my time, only to then let me pretend I’m actually doing the work. And if you think your weird, possessive exclusivity extends to my body—”
“Not at all.” Peter held his hands up.
The moment the words were out of his mouth, he could feel the wrongness of them. He didn’t actually want Theo to be with other people. But he has to decide that. I cannot force him to. I’ll never force him. The bother.
“Well, good.” Theo straightened. The Theo who’d gone panicky in Peter’s kitchen seemed to be taking a break. This wasn’t him. This was…Puck. “Because I’m working tonight. What do you like?”
Theo—Puck—walked toward Peter, placing both hands on Peter’s chest and gently running them up and down, not really moving below Peter’s navel.
Peter narrowed his eyes. Perhaps this will be good. Perhaps he can enjoy this too; setting the tone, the rhythm.
“I want to be your fantasy. The faceless man you imagined taking up here. The one-time client who breaks you in. The random rich guy who leaves here satisfied and never thinks about your pretty face ever again.” And because he really had to, Peter raised his hand and ran the pad of his thumb over Puck’s cheek.
“How do you want to be broken in, Puck?”
This was a gamble. Puck might not ever have thought like that, dreamed like that at all.
The slight change in Puck let Peter know he’d been right though. Puck’s eyes darkened, and there was a minute shift in weight that had him leaning into Peter’s hand.
“Are you okay to top me?”
Peter nodded. “Certainly.”
“Then…I think you’ll want to stretch me open.”
Peter smiled. “You read my mind.”