Page 8 of A Subtle Scar

I said, “I am not trying anyone else because I want that human.”

Hermes put his glass on the mantel and crossed his arms. “Oh, do you? Well, you can’t have him because he’s mine. And I will get that human to suck my cock tonight.”

The nerve of him. “No, you won’t because his mouth will be busy begging me to cum inside him.”

We had a bit of a staring contest then. Usually, I won because fucking Hermes would teleport out of them, but this one, he didn’t throw.

“Fine,” he said in the end. “You know what? We’ll make this a contest.”

“A contest? He’s a person, not a tennis ball.”

Hermes snorted. “I know that, and I am better able to take care of his personal needs. You’ll see.”

“Oh, shut up already. You were saying?”

“Well, easy, really. Whoever gets the human to go down on him tonight wins,” Hermes said, about as smug as if he already had his cock in someone’s mouth. Typical teleporter bullshit.

“Maybe I don’t want his mouth at all. Maybe I want something else.” I really hadn’t thought that through. It just came out. It felt like the right thing to say.

“Whatever. Whoever gets the lay tonight wins and stops ogling what the other has already set eyes on. Agreed?”

He held out his hand. I looked at it for a moment, then shook. “Agreed. And prepare to lose.”

Hermes picked his glass back up, took a swig, then looked past me and almost snorted out his cocktail.

“Shit.”

“What?” I turned as well.

“Well, where’d he go?”

And more importantly, how had one human slipped out from under both our noses?

Chapter Three

“Hey,Ineedtoshow you something,” Lionel said when he dashed into the sushi room.

“Excuse me,” I told Mistress Trony, who’d gone from poking her dessert to pulling his nipples with her chopsticks. Of course Jeremy still had a few maki on his abdomen and thighs, and Trony wasn’t the kind of person to have dessert before dinner. That cage Jeremy was wearing had to be getting very uncomfortable.

She sighed and tossed back her hair. “Fine, go. The birthday necromancer gets whatever he wants today.”

Lionel was beckoning me to follow him and speed-walked to the front of the house.

“Where’s the fire?” I asked. “You look like there’s a fire.”

He glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “Marc just got here, and Lucy almost burned my clothes off and—well, he almost burned my clothes off.”

“I see,” I said. “I know he’s good with fire. This isn’t about how you are very attached to your clothes, is it?”

“What? No. These pants are fucking satin because…well, because. Can you please just grab Marc and show him the food or something? So I can distract Lucy without him going into pyrotechnics?”

“Doing pyrotechnics to Marc?” I said and got briefly distracted when I saw a girl eagerly bobbing her head up and down over a guy’s lap back in the cake room.

“No, he wouldn’t do anything. Well, nothing bad at any rate, but there’s all this posturing, and he’s been telling Marc that maybe it would help if he watched, and that’s just not my thing. This whole fucking posturing is so annoying and unnecessary.”

“Got it, distract the coworker so your lover doesn’t subject anyone to voyeurism,” I said. “Although I have to tell you, Lionel, that’s gonna be tough. Take a look around.”

Lionel snorted. “I’ll be fine so long as I’m not the subject of the voyeurism. I think. Fuck. Why does it always have to be an orgy? I told him he can do a small, intimate gathering.” Lionel threw out an arm. “Does this look small to you?”