The image of Quintus in the throes of passion while he sank his fangs into the man’s flesh had flashed before his eyes. Scott had to take a few breaths to get himself under control and remember that Quintus was there to do a job and nothing else. He’d called Quintus’s name to get his attention, but Quintus hadn’t seemed to hear him. It wasn’t until he’d whispered in his ear that he’d gotten Quintus’s attention.
When the other man had turned and bumped into him, Scott had been at a loss for words from how good the man felt against him. It didn’t help that his scent intensified. He’d had to pretend he wasn’t affected by Quintus’s scent and had talked about shit he knew absolutely nothing about.
Something was going on between them, and Scott wasn’t sure if it would be a mistake to explore it or cut his losses. There could only be sex between them. He wasn’t willing to have a committed relationship with anyone. He knew for certain Quintus was not into BDSM, and that could be a deterrent to them moving forward with anything.
Stick to business. I’m not even sure if he’d be interested in the lifestyle.
“Why don’t you ask him?”
Scott closed his eyes, hoping when he opened them Fenrir wasn’t standing in front of him.
“Why the fuck are you showing up so often?” he asked when he finally opened his eyes.
“Stop fucking projecting so damn much.” Fenrir growled. “You’re a demi for crying out loud. I know your father taught you how to turn that shit off. It only seems to happen when you get around that cheetah.”
“Fine, I’ll work on it. Now go away,” he told his cousin who was about to leave, but Scott stopped him. “What do you think it means though?”
“What? That I can hear your crazy ass thoughts?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s never happened before. I’m sure my bearer would have been here already.”
Fenrir snorted. “Mister ‘I need to protect my babies’ would have definitely been here already.” The wolf god stared at him and smiled. To anyone, it would seem that he hated Fenrir. But truthfully, the wolf god would always be brutally honest with him. “I can’t give you the answer you’re seeking, that’s something you have to figure out on your own,” he said as he disappeared.
“Was someone just here?”
Scott turned and saw Quintus standing by the doorway to the kitchen. He couldn’t tell the other man that he was talking to a god, when most people thought they were celestial beings who protected them.
Celestial, not in the slightest. And protection, was debatable.
“Are you ready to eat?” he asked instead. “I can tell you what I would like to do with the house, and you can tell me if it’s doable.” Quintus looked at him as if he was unsure of Scott.
“Yeah, I’m starving actually,” Quintus said, coming around the counter and picking up a paper plate and then a slice of pizza.
Scott watched his every move, mesmerized by the way his body moved like a sleek cat.
“Mm, so good,” Quintus said, after his first bite.
Scott went to reach for the piece of cheese that was on the side of Quintus’s mouth but stopped himself.
“You have cheese…” He touched the side of his face, demonstrating exactly where.
“Oh goodness, I must look like a pig.” He grabbed a napkin, wiping his mouth.
“Not at all, you look like someone who missed lunch,” Scott commented.
Quintus blushed. “Yeah, it was one of those days.”
“Understandable.” Scott reached over and got his own slice of pizza. They ate standing beside the counter in silence — neither seemed to want to talk about the kiss.
“So, what’s your idea for this mini-castle?”
Scott chuckled. “First, I want to knock down the tower in the east wing. I think it’s bringing down the value of the neighborhood down?”
“I’m not sure,” Quintus said, tapping his chin as if thinking of a solution. “Maybe if you add some windows, your neighbors might not complain so much.”
“That’s a possibility.” Scott smiled. “Let me think about it.”
“I like this house, there’s a lot you can do with it.” He turned on his tablet and brought up his notes, Scott could only guess that was from both inside and outside.
