I huff. Beds aren’t my favorite, but I wouldn’t mind if he bent me over this one. That would be far more fun than looking at clothes.
“Sammy’s stuff should be about your size, choose some.”
Mal walks past me and leaves me alone again. I glare at the clothes. Who the fuck is Sammy? I stalk up to the rail and sniff at the cloth. It just smells clean and of strange chemicals that mimic the scent of flowers. There is the faintest whiff of young human man. I growl.
What does this Sammy look like? Maybe I should change myself into a prettier version of him so that Mal keeps me? A strange whimper comes out of my throat. I can’t do that if I don’t know what he looks like. But wearing his clothes is a good place to start.
I cast my gaze over the large collection. What the hell do humans consider stylish and fashionable these days? What will look pleasing to Mal’s eye? I have no idea.
I guess I will just have to grab whatever and hope for the best. Hopefully, this Sammy has good taste.
I’m still rummaging when Mal comes back. I’ve got as far as putting on a pair of socks that come to mid-thigh and some sort of very small underwear that is bright red and silky.
Mal coughs and his eyes darken. The scent of his arousal is heady and intoxicating. He likes the clothes I chose. My heart does something strange in my chest. I hope this human body is not giving up on me.
“Um…lets cover those with some jeans and a tee-shirt,” he says as he steps forward and starts pulling clothes out of the cupboard.
I stare at him as he dumps clothes on the bed. He wants me. Why isn’t he taking me? I’m right here. And it is not as if I can stop him.
Finally, his eyes meet mine. His bright eyes flash and he grins wolfishly. “Greedy boy. I can’t fuck you all the time. I have stuff to do.”
I cross my arms and glare. He laughs.
“Don’t pout. I’ll do you when we get back to the basement, okay?”
That thought sounds wonderful. It makes my stomach feel all squirmy. A surprised look crosses his handsome face, followed by a whole storm of emotions.
“Was that a smile, Little One?” he whispers softly.
Was it? I don’t know. I shrug and turn my attention to putting on the clothes he has chosen for me. Maybe belonging to Mal won’t be so bad.
Chapter six
Iknow what this place is. It is a restaurant. Seems they haven’t changed too much. The space is huge, echoing and filled with humans. I used to go to restaurants all the time, I know this one is not truly that large. Years locked in a small room has warped my perspective.
Mal waits calmly for a hostess to come show us to our table. He said he had a meeting. It will be interesting to meet some of his associates. Though, I wish we had gone straight back to the basement, and he was doing me right now, like he promised me.
I try to stand calmly like Mal is doing, but my body is itching to fidget. Mal made me leave my robe in the car and its absence is clawing at me. The noise of many different conversations washes over me. I shudder. So many humans. Unease trickles down my spine. All the lights flicker. The humans glance around in concern.
“Gray,” warns Mal softly as he squeezes my shoulder in warning.
I bite my bottom lip and try to regain control. The lights settle. The humans go back to their conversations and their food.
“Keep your hood up,” Mal orders.
I nod my acquiescence, even though I’m not sure he can see me.
The hostess comes over with a bright smile and she leads us to a table in a fairly quiet corner. Mal sits down and I slide onto his lap. His surprise sparks over me. His hands take hold of my hips and he lifts me up and places me in a chair opposite him. Then he sits back down. I glare at him. The hostess stares at me and then scurries away.
Mal sighs. “You are going to get me in trouble, Little One. Humans don’t know you have thousands of years on me, and that you’re the one who is the sugar grandpa.”
He flashes his bright white teeth at me. He is far too sexy to look like anyone’s grandfather. But I suppose silver hair and wrinkles, even tiny ones around the eyes, do signify maturity in humans.
“I look like I’m in my fifties, and you look,” he pauses and tilts his head, regarding me intently. “Eighteen or seventeen. Even when hidden in that hoodie.” He frowns. “Maybe you should age up a bit.”
I snarl at him in outrage. He likes the way I look. I know he does. No way am I making myself less appealing to him. He laughs at my anger and turns his attention to the menu.
A server approaches the table, takes Mal’s order and hurries away again. It is hard to sit still and not fidget. But I can do it. Soon this will all be over and Mal will take me back to the basement and give me his cock.
