Page 27

Luke didn’t know about understand. His head was practically spinning. One second he’d been peacefully doing the dishes, and the next there’d been an alluring, naked merman at his back. And then had come the flirting and the kissing, only for them both to get a very rude and sudden reminder that Syrus was not human. And now Syrus was offering to—what?—suck Luke off and steal some of his turn-a-tail-into-legs magic jizz juice?

It was too much. Luke was an ordinary guy. He had a son and what some might call a job and a very boring routine. He didn’t get sucked off in his kitchen by beautiful men with beautiful tails.

He didn’t get sucked off in his kitchen by beautiful anyone, period.

And what about the fucking teeth?

Luke carefully unmounted from his precarious position and stood on shaky legs. “I’m going to get a knife and a shot glass,” he announced.

He ignored both Syrus’s answering pout and his intent, tracking gaze. Luke determinedly thought of nothing whatsoever as he got what he needed and sliced the same spot on his thumb, wincing at the sting.

Although, maybe crying into Syrus’s mouth wouldn’t be the worst thing, if Luke could stop cutting his damn thumb on demand.

No. Don’t even go there.

Luke let the blood drip into the shot glass and handed it to Syrus before sitting next to him on the kitchen floor, his back to the lower kitchen cabinets.

Syrus took the offering graciously enough, although there was still an aggravated air about him, like Luke had offended him with his choice.

Too damn bad.

Moments later, Syrus had transformed back to human. He sat up and shuffled this way and that until they were both seated next to each other with their backs against the cabinets, their legs sprawled on the tiled floor. Despite his pouting, Syrus seemed to accept the change in mood, considering he didn’t immediately try to kiss Luke again.

Was it Luke’s imagination, or did Syrus’s feet look a little better than before?

“You walked into the kitchen by yourself,” Luke mused. He should have registered that right away, but the lack of clothing had kind of taken center stage in his brain.

“I begin to heal,” Syrus said, his tone of voice unreadable.

“And then you go back.”

Syrus made a noncommittal noise, but he shifted closer to Luke, his bare leg pressing against Luke’s jeans.

“And then you go back?” Luke repeated, turning it into a question this time.

“I have nothing to return to.”

Syrus could have been absently complaining, but it didn’t sound like it. It sounded more like he was giving an excuse for an extended stay.

“Don’t you miss the water?”

Luke would think it would be a pain, constantly having to switch into a form that wasn’t natural. But what did he know? Maybe both of Syrus’s forms felt the same to him, each as natural as the other.

“You have the water right outside your door,” Syrus said evenly. “And I must repay you.”

Well, what the hell did that mean? They’d never talked about any sort of repayment. They’d only talked about Syrus getting better and heading on his way. It wasn’t like Luke was expecting anything, other than maybe a bit of peace and quiet after Syrus left.

Shit. They had talked about Syrus leaving after, hadn’t they?

Luke swallowed hard. “Um. Repay me…how?”

“You’re the primary caregiver of a defenseless spawn, and you have no protector. I will be what you need.”

Uh-huh. Right. Sure. Syrus had mentioned something about birthers and protectors in his pod. But did he really think Luke and Colby’s situation fell under the same umbrella? Hadn’t they established that Luke was not the birther here?

Luke was too gobsmacked by it all to protest, and Syrus seemed to take that for some sort of acceptance. He leaned more fully against Luke, nuzzling his chin into Luke’s hair. “You’re weary. You must rest, Luke.”

Luke was tired. But single parenthood meant he was always tired, his unplanned nap notwithstanding. “Are you putting me to bed?”