Page 16
Story: Petty AF
“No, it doesn’t hurt,” he confirmed as he stroked my hair.
“In that case, it is very okay.” I turned my head to peek up at him, my mind filled with all kinds of deliciously dirty thoughts. “Want to try again? For research purposes, of course.”
Deaton chuckled, but his cock twitched inside me, swelling with renewed interest. “You are trouble.”
“That doesn’t sound like a no.”
“Behave,” he said, smacking me lightly on the butt. “You’re already going to be sore as hell tomorrow.”
“Fine,” I huffed and settled against him again.
I could wait, but I was nothing if not persistent.
six
~ Deaton ~
TheannualConcertonthe Square event was in full swing with hundreds of people filling Circle City’s downtown plaza.
Some had brought lawn chairs or blankets, while others posted up on the brick retaining walls. Doors of nearby shops had been opened wide for the night, and even passersby would pause for a few minutes to enjoy the free music before continuing on to their destination.
The scent of garlic, melted cheese, and vine-ripe tomatoes floated on the humid night air, while melodic guitar chords harmonized with the drone of conversation. Many of the local restaurants offered deals every Saturday night throughout the summer to capitalize on the event, but the pizza paired with a bottle of wine had always been a clear favorite.
To keep things fair, nowhere took reservations on those nights, so River and I had arrived early to secure a patio table at Giovanni’s. I knew he was nervous about being out in public, buthe couldn’t hide forever. It had been over a week since he had left his house, and the self-imposed isolation had already started affecting his mood.
Despite being surrounded by people, I still considered it a low-risk venture. He held mostly neutral opinions about food and music, and we had a semblance of privacy at our little table. Even if his mouth did run away with him, I doubted many would hear it over the din of the square.
He sat with his elbows propped on the table, idly tracing the rim of his wine glass. It might have appeared casual if not for the tension in his shoulders, or the way his gaze darted over the crowd as if searching out potential landmines.
“River, relax.” Pinching his glass by the stem, I carefully moved it aside and took his hand to stop his fidgeting. “No one is even paying attention to us.”
His fingers curled around mine, and he shook his head. “I know. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.”
I couldn’t promise that wouldn’t happen, but I’d do everything I could to minimize the likelihood. At the same time, I couldn’t blame him for thinking he might be ambushed at any moment. After all, he’d already been minding his own business when this whole mess had started.
“How do you know Joss?” he asked, his tone brisk and agitated. Though he winced, he didn’t offer an apology or take it back. “I know he’s the Warlock Regent or whatever, but at the party, it just seemed like something more.”
It was a fair question, and one I didn’t have a problem answering, but I wondered what had provoked it. “How long have you been holding that one in?”
He shrugged. “Just now. I said I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Then I started thinking about ways that could happen.” Lifting his free hand, he waved it carelessly, barely missing the top of his glass. “Typical spiral stuff.”
“Naturally,” I said, chuckling at his dismissive tone. I still didn’t see how the two thoughts related, though.
“Which made me mad because it wouldn’t even be an issue if it wasn’t for that stupid warlock,” he continued. “That made me think of the gala, and I remembered that he had greeted you first.” He paused and took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the action. “So, I started wondering about how you knew him, and the question just kind of fell out of my mouth.”
I stared at him, unblinking, marveling at the way his mind worked. When laid out like that, it made sense. It also sounded kind of exhausting.
“I actually don’t know him that well,” I answered. “I worked security at a couple of parties he hosted. That’s about it.”
“Well, you must have left an impression because he certainly remembered you.”
The huffiness in his voice amused me, as did the way his mouth twisted as if he’d tasted something bitter. “Jealous?”
His eyes snapped up to meet mine. “Obviously. And I hate it.”
It would have been funny if not for the implications of that statement. “You don’t think you were hexed because of me, do you?”
“No.” Deflating, he exhaled slowly and shook his head. “I think I was hexed because Joss is a dick.” He slumped back in his seat, but he didn’t pull his hand away. “And maybe because he wants to get in your pants.”
“In that case, it is very okay.” I turned my head to peek up at him, my mind filled with all kinds of deliciously dirty thoughts. “Want to try again? For research purposes, of course.”
Deaton chuckled, but his cock twitched inside me, swelling with renewed interest. “You are trouble.”
“That doesn’t sound like a no.”
“Behave,” he said, smacking me lightly on the butt. “You’re already going to be sore as hell tomorrow.”
“Fine,” I huffed and settled against him again.
I could wait, but I was nothing if not persistent.
six
~ Deaton ~
TheannualConcertonthe Square event was in full swing with hundreds of people filling Circle City’s downtown plaza.
Some had brought lawn chairs or blankets, while others posted up on the brick retaining walls. Doors of nearby shops had been opened wide for the night, and even passersby would pause for a few minutes to enjoy the free music before continuing on to their destination.
The scent of garlic, melted cheese, and vine-ripe tomatoes floated on the humid night air, while melodic guitar chords harmonized with the drone of conversation. Many of the local restaurants offered deals every Saturday night throughout the summer to capitalize on the event, but the pizza paired with a bottle of wine had always been a clear favorite.
To keep things fair, nowhere took reservations on those nights, so River and I had arrived early to secure a patio table at Giovanni’s. I knew he was nervous about being out in public, buthe couldn’t hide forever. It had been over a week since he had left his house, and the self-imposed isolation had already started affecting his mood.
Despite being surrounded by people, I still considered it a low-risk venture. He held mostly neutral opinions about food and music, and we had a semblance of privacy at our little table. Even if his mouth did run away with him, I doubted many would hear it over the din of the square.
He sat with his elbows propped on the table, idly tracing the rim of his wine glass. It might have appeared casual if not for the tension in his shoulders, or the way his gaze darted over the crowd as if searching out potential landmines.
“River, relax.” Pinching his glass by the stem, I carefully moved it aside and took his hand to stop his fidgeting. “No one is even paying attention to us.”
His fingers curled around mine, and he shook his head. “I know. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.”
I couldn’t promise that wouldn’t happen, but I’d do everything I could to minimize the likelihood. At the same time, I couldn’t blame him for thinking he might be ambushed at any moment. After all, he’d already been minding his own business when this whole mess had started.
“How do you know Joss?” he asked, his tone brisk and agitated. Though he winced, he didn’t offer an apology or take it back. “I know he’s the Warlock Regent or whatever, but at the party, it just seemed like something more.”
It was a fair question, and one I didn’t have a problem answering, but I wondered what had provoked it. “How long have you been holding that one in?”
He shrugged. “Just now. I said I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Then I started thinking about ways that could happen.” Lifting his free hand, he waved it carelessly, barely missing the top of his glass. “Typical spiral stuff.”
“Naturally,” I said, chuckling at his dismissive tone. I still didn’t see how the two thoughts related, though.
“Which made me mad because it wouldn’t even be an issue if it wasn’t for that stupid warlock,” he continued. “That made me think of the gala, and I remembered that he had greeted you first.” He paused and took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the action. “So, I started wondering about how you knew him, and the question just kind of fell out of my mouth.”
I stared at him, unblinking, marveling at the way his mind worked. When laid out like that, it made sense. It also sounded kind of exhausting.
“I actually don’t know him that well,” I answered. “I worked security at a couple of parties he hosted. That’s about it.”
“Well, you must have left an impression because he certainly remembered you.”
The huffiness in his voice amused me, as did the way his mouth twisted as if he’d tasted something bitter. “Jealous?”
His eyes snapped up to meet mine. “Obviously. And I hate it.”
It would have been funny if not for the implications of that statement. “You don’t think you were hexed because of me, do you?”
“No.” Deflating, he exhaled slowly and shook his head. “I think I was hexed because Joss is a dick.” He slumped back in his seat, but he didn’t pull his hand away. “And maybe because he wants to get in your pants.”