Gods help us all.
Julian
“You’re sure we’re not going to get in trouble for this?” Connery asked nervously for about the five thousandth time since we’d sat down in the small library nook I’d been looking for when all hell broke loose an hour earlier.
With the kitchen already closed when we got to the dining hall, I’d made the executive decision to order in, so we were curled up in the overstuffed reading chairs, watching the crackling fire while the rain tinkled lightly at the windows. Well,Iwas curled up. Connery was sitting stiffed-backed like the chair might electrify any moment.
“For what?” I asked patiently, offering him a gentle smile.
Connery sighed. “I’m not a guest here,” he repeated. “I’m a..”
“Prisoner of war, I know,” I interrupted, rolling my eyes. “As long as you look like you’re suffering, I’m sure no one will complain,” I teased. “I can google Geneva Convention rules and find one to violate, if that’ll help you relax?”
From his spot standing guard inside the open double doors, Fang tried to stifle his laugh but failed.
“Or maybe we should go straight to torture?” I continued with a grin. “I have it on good authority that the introduction to modern history class is incredibly painful, especially if you have to give an oral report after each documentary.”
Fang didn’t even try to hide his laugh that time and even Connery broke out a small smile.
“Skipping preliminary torture and going straight to human rights violations?” Chuck’s amused voice came from the hall, accompanied by the mouthwatering aroma of spicy peperoni and juicy cheeseburgers. “Does that make this the poor kid’s last meal?”
My heart did that stupid skip-jump thing when Chuck stepped into the room, his arms laden with grease-spotted brown bags piled on two large pizza boxes.
“Finally!” I jumped up as Chuck began to lay out the food on the table. When I got to his side, he wrapped his arms around me, kissing me soundly. I struggled weakly against him, making grabby hands towards the food. “Lemmee go, I’m starving!”
The large Alpha held me tighter, nuzzling into my cheek and nibbling on the soft skin there. “Me, too, and you’re delicious.”
An embarrassed cough from over by the fire reminded us that we weren’t alone, and Chuck set me free with one more light kiss before turning to Connery. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not,” Connery choked out, but his flaming red cheeks belied his denial. “I should go back to my cell, anyway.” He sent me an apologetic look before slipping past Chuck to stand next to Fang, apparently waiting for an escort.
Chuck gave an exasperated sigh. “No. You’re my prisoner, right? So, sit down and eat with me.”
The confused look Connery shot at Fang was met with a literal shrug. The guard walked over to the table, leaving the so-called prisoner standing alone by the door.
Chuck pulled a stack of disposable plates from one of the brown bags and placed them in the center of the table, followed by some napkins. Stacking three of the plates for structural support, Chuck loaded it down with several slices of pizza, a scattering of hot wings, and finished the pile off with two of the cheeseburgers before placing it on the small table next to the chair I’d been sitting in when he arrived.
Crooking his finger, Chuck beckoned me over and pulled me onto his lap, wrapping one arm loosely around my waist. “I thought we could share?” he suggested gesturing to the mountain of food.
“Sure,” I agreed, swiping one of the burgers and taking a huge bite. “Oh, so good,” I mumbled through a mouth of juicy beef and gooey cheese. When a string of cheese broke free and sprang back to stick to my cheek, Chuck laughed and plucked it free, popping it in his mouth. I was about to suggest he let me up long enough to grab napkins when a small stack appeared in front of me.
Connery was still bright red, but he was holding a plate with a cheeseburger on it in one hand and offering me the napkins with the other.
“Thanks.” I accepted them gratefully and wiped the grease smear from my face. When he continued to awkwardly shuffle his feet, I nodded to the chair he’d sat in earlier. “You might as well sit down and eat,” I suggested with a grin. “After all, no one wants to have their human rights violated on an empty stomach.”
Getting another small smile in acknowledgement of my joke was like striking gold. When Fang finished filling his plate, he dragged a chair from the table over to join us next to the fire, settling it just a teensy bit too close to Connery’s chair. From the soft smile I caught when he didn’t think anyone was looking, I was pretty damn sure that it had less to do with Fang’s interest in the supposed prisoner not escaping and a whole lot more to do with ways he’d like to entertain the young man after the meal.
Not that it was any ofmybusiness, though.
Yeah, I could hear my roommate cackling in my head at the mere idea of me being able to keep my nosey self from interfering in their business. Just for that, she’s getting another massive dildo in the mail for Easter.
ChapterTwenty-One
Chuck
Honestly, intercepting the food delivery had been a happy accident. I was passing through the lobby when the delivery man asked our receptionist, Nan, for Jules. Digging out my wallet, I passed over cash for the tip, accepted the huge order, and headed for the small library nook Jules had asked Nan to direct the delivery man to. As soon as I’d arrived and heard Jules trying to tease Connery into relaxing, another piece of my heart clicked into place.
Making small talk and pigging out on junk food in front of the roaring fire with my Omega on my lap relaxed me to the point that I forgot why I’d gone in search of Connery in the first place. I was reminded when my cell phone vibrated in my pocket with a message from Pete.
