Chapter 14 #3
He shakes his head. “No. I just got in a few hours ago and planned to fly directly on to Portland as soon as I found out where you were staying. Don’t worry—I’ll find somewhere to crash.”
I look over my shoulder at Alistair, who manages to growl and pout at the same time.
“You can stay on my couch,” he mutters reluctantly, and Manoj laughs outright.
“Thanks, but unless you have top-notch soundproofing wards, that’s a hard pass. There are some things I really don’t want to hear my boss doing.”
My face gets really, really hot, both from embarrassment and at the thought of doing those things with Alistair. I’ve had skin this fair for hundreds of years—my whole life—and yet I still hate how my face becomes a beacon so easily.
“Good point!” Alistair sounds far too cheerful. “Well, there’s a decent hotel a couple blocks from here. We can share a ride—it’s on the way to my place.” He frowns. “Did you say David has your phone now?”
“Yeah.” That’s going to be a bitch. Not just that David has my electronics, but that my accounts are compromised. I can’t even log in to my email from another computer—it’s just not worth the risk right now.
“Let’s stop and get you a burner, then. I don’t like the idea of you not having a phone, just in case we’re separated.”
Aww. Is it any wonder I have all the warm feelings for him?
Part of me still thinks this is too fast and that I should be practical, but the rest of me—and the magic—know it’s right. Alistair fits with me, and I only regret I didn’t make an effort to get to know him better sooner. We could have been together six months ago.
“C’mon, lover!”
It’s probably going to take me six months to train him to stop using that word.
Alistair’s place is nice. In a barely-lived-in kind of way. Maybe I should say it has the potential to be nice. Spacious rooms, open-plan living, big windows. Hardwood floors, high ceilings.
A lone recliner pointed at a midsize television, with a two-seat sofa off to the side—lucky Manoj opted for the hotel, because he wouldn’t have been comfortable on that.
No coffee table, but rather a folding chair placed beside the recliner with the remote and an empty beer bottle on it—and yes, the bottle smells.
It’s clearly been there for some time. A collection of flattened cardboard boxes and empty bottles and jars litters the kitchen counter, awaiting a trip to the recycling dumpster.
And there’s dust everywhere. I almost expect to see a giant dust ball roll past.
Maybe I would have been better off in a hotel too.
“Sorry about the mess,” Alistair declares. “It’s been a busy few weeks… months, and I spend a lot of time at Sam’s place, anyway. I’ve been concentrating on essential cleaning only.”
I’m about to ask him what that means when I realize that the kitchen is clean despite the clutter on the counter.
Sparkling clean. Sink, oven, stovetop—not even a water stain in sight.
The counter, underneath the recyclables, is spotless.
And the empties here don’t smell at all, so clearly he rinsed them.
No sooner do I think it than he passes me with the bottle from the folding chair in hand, headed for the sink.
Okay. This might not be as bad as I thought. He doesn’t care about dust, but there’s no mold, and I’m not allergic to dust.
“Is it okay if I grab a shower?” I ask, and he grins at me over his shoulder.
“Of course. Down the hall, first door. There are towels under the sink. I’m going to order some food—there was nothing here before I left.”
I leave him to it and go in search of the bathroom. It, too, is immaculate. If he’s willing to clean the bathroom and kitchen, I have no issue doing the dusting and vacuuming.
The hot water is amazing, and I spend a few moments just letting it beat down on me and wash away all my exhaustion. There’s a lot more to get through today.
I hear Alistair coming long before he opens the shower door, and a thrill of excitement runs through me. It’s been a long time since I’ve indulged in shower shenanigans, and right now, I want every second with Alistair that I can get.
“Well, hello,” he says, lounging in the doorway and letting all the steam out. “Does the owner know you’re here?”
Choking back a laugh, I decide to play along. “Are you going to tell him?”
His face lights up with delight, and he steps into the giant stall and closes the glass door. “That would be the right thing to do. If you’re not supposed to be here…” He shrugs and tries to look conflicted.
“Is there anything I can do to change your mind? I’ve heard the owner is a horrid man, and I’m so—” I cough to cover my laughter. “—I’m so vulnerable. I need someone to protect me.”
Alistair puffs out his chest. He’s getting way too into this.
“I would gladly protect you from the evils of the world! For I am a fierce protector.” I bite my lip.
Hard. “But if you’re here without the owner’s knowledge—and I hear he’s a wonderful man, not at all horrid—then I’m not sure I can help you.
It would be a great cost to me, you know, and while I’ve always been selfless and giving, I do need to consider myself sometimes. ”
I decide to move this along before he turns it into a three-act play. Sinking to my knees on the slippery tile, I look up at him and say, “You need someone to give to you. Let me.” Without waiting for an overdramatic bullshit response, I lean forward and wrap my mouth around the head of his cock.
He gasps. “No, wait,” he protests halfheartedly. “I couldn’t take advantage of you this way.” One hand comes to rest on the back of my head, adjusting the angle, and I huff through my nose.
Time to shut him up.
Alistair’s dick is in proportion to the rest of him, and there’s no way I can get all of him in, but I do my level best to try.
From the sounds he’s making, he appreciates it.
I give myself over to my task, using every lick, suck, and nibble to push him closer to the edge, loving the tang of precum that seeps from him, until suddenly he clenches his hand in my hair.
“Aidan,” he warns gutturally, and I take that as a sign to go deep again.
I feel the gentle scrape of his barbs against the back of my throat. He shouts, and my mouth fills with his hot, salty cum.
I pull back, spit, and as he leans shakily against the shower wall, I say, “I can take care of you like that all the time if you’ll protect me from the owner.”
“What owner?”