The blue diamond came to mind again, the color of Jules’s eyes. Would he like Elouan’s hoard? What was Elouan thinking? Humans knew nothing about hoards and would likely see the painstakingly gained items as some kind of strange obsession.
What happened to the hoard he’d left behind? Had his cousin taken over his rooms? Sakaris promised to keep Elouan’s belongings safe. But for what? For when?
Elouan shouldn’t be here. He should be home, confronting his uncle. However, Sakaris had been Father’s most trusted advisor and deserved Elouan’s trust, too. After all, the mage saved his life when he could have abandoned Elouan to his uncle's evil schemes. If someone so powerful had been helpless to overturn the disaster, then Elouan had no choice but to flee and wait.
He settled onto his bed, cellphone in hand to check messages from coworkers before going to sleep. No messages. Elouan flipped through the day’s photos, one of Jules donning a helmet. Another of Jules sticking a toe into the lake. Even his grimaces were charming.
Lastly, a picture of Jules lying on the blanket, using his jacket for a pillow, staring at Elouan like he’d invented flying. Elouan couldn’t help smiling, warmth flooding him. Photos were wonderful things, helping him recall happy memories. He’d give just about anything to have pictures of his father, mother, brothers, and Teron.
What would Teron think of Elouan’s current situation? What would he think of Jules? He’d tease, surely, but he always had Elouan’s best interests at heart. Goddess, Elouan missed the man.
May he and Anrai be safe somewhere—together.
No use thinking of old times, not when Elouan should focus on the here and now.
He studied the picture of Jules lying on the blanket, visualizing what his body might look like under those clothes. What would his face look like when Elouan eased into him? What expression would he wear during orgasm?
Elouan put the phone aside, opening his towel to stroke his rapidly filling cock. Jules came across as possibly never having had sex before. Oh, to be the one to give him his first taste of sexual pleasure, to make sure he received maximum enjoyment. Several friends over the years had shared horror stories of their first experiences. Jules deserved only the best.
Elouan would lay him down, kiss each newly revealed bit of him while removing his clothes, feeling sun-warmed skin, hearing each moan, feeling every shudder, each telling him exactly what Jules liked.
He’d take Jules’s cock into his mouth, lick, suck, and nibble until Jules lost his mind, burying his fingers in Elouan’s hair and thrusting wildly. To be the one to make the reserved blond lose control….
Had the passionate kiss been an indication of the banked fire within?
Elouan stroked faster, pressing behind his balls with the other hand while imagining the wonder on Jules’s face when he shot down Elouan’s throat. Elouan wouldn’t be far behind….
His entire body spasmed, pearly droplets spattering his belly. Once, twice, three times….
Elouan collapsed back onto the bed, breath coming in ragged gasps, droplets cooling on his belly. Well, damn. If he got off so well at the mere thought of Jules, what would taking him for the first time be like?
A noise outside the bedroom door caught Elouan’s attention, and he stilled, straining his hearing. Hell, even a human could hear footsteps shuffling away from his door.
Had Curtis been spying?
Chapter Nine
When he woke next morning, Elouan lay unmoving. Should he confront Curtis about listening at the door the previous night, or pretend nothing happened? Maybe Curtis was simply passing by Elouan’s room. Only, Elouan’s room sat at the end of the hallway, eliminating any reason to be there. Unless he wanted to talk, heard Elouan moan and fled.
Maybe Elouan shouldn’t say anything. If Curtis had a question, perhaps he’d ask over breakfast.
Elouan dressed in his normal Sunday outfit of sweatpants and a T-shirt and headed down the stairs. No coffee or breakfast greeted him when he wandered into the kitchen, though sunlight streamed through the windows. When had he begun expecting Curtis to wait on him, even while protesting against the attention?
He needed to do more around the apartment, like setting his alarm early so he could beat Curtis to the kitchen and have coffeeand breakfast waiting. Had anyone other than Curtis’s parents ever done that for him?
Curtis had taken Elouan in, provided for him, helped him with a job, taught him to drive, and helped him with many other skills needed for the human realm. He hadn’t thought twice about bringing a stranger into his home.
A few days later, Leon had shown up with an envelope full of documents: bank records, a driver’s license, and a birth certificate in the name of Elouan Aaron.Don’t ask where it came from,he’d said.It showed up on my kitchen table.
The sinking feeling in Elouan’s chest had to be guilt. Curtis had done so much for him. Elouan needed to be more understanding. Teron was an alpha who took no shit from Elouan, easily telling him off when needed. Omegas like Curtis weren’t as forthcoming with criticism, constructive or otherwise.
It was past time to work on being a better friend. How had Elouan shared a home with Curtis for three years without knowing of his deep-seated parental resentment? He should’ve been there, offering a shoulder. Instead, he had wrapped himself up too much in his own life to pay any attention to anyone else.
Did he ever ask about his coworkers’ issues instead of simply listening when they talked? Had he ever asked about Earl’s two boys after he’d had custody for a few days? Had Elouan ever questioned Leon about his weekend? Ever said “Happy Birthday” before the cake arrived at lunchtime? He hadn’t been a very good friend, seeing these people as temporary in his life. What if they were permanent?
He needed to do better. Somehow, Jules being in his life made Elouan want to be better. Sure, he cared about the court, but as one big entity, not individuals. Part of being king would be to know his people on a personal level, listen to them, and try to do his best for them.
How could he expect to be anywhere near as good a king as his father when he took so little interest in those around him? Not that he didn’t care about those people, he’d simply lived for a future existence for so long that he wasn’t living properly in thenow.
