Page 32 of Fated Mates and How to Seduce Them (Fated Mates #4)

They got a bit of a later start in the morning than Ian had intended.

In his defense, watching André turn down one person after another at the bar last night, his eyes only on Ian—as if he could only see Ian—had been…

well…empowering, for one. Heady, for another.

By the time they’d closed for the night, Ian had dragged André straight to the car and blown him in the back seat.

Then hurried them both back to Ian’s blessedly empty dorm so he could sex the man up again. André had that kind of effect on him.

He didn’t think it was purely because he was a mate, either. André had looked at Ian like he was the only thing he could see before the big reveal had ever happened. Truly heady stuff. It gave Ian a confidence he’d never experienced before in a relationship.

So yes, they were a bit late getting out the door this morning after having so much fun the night before. Ian didn’t regret a bit of it. It was near noon as they got on the road, André driving, of course.

“You said the villa house is about an hour away?” Ian looked at the GPS to estimate the time.

“A little under, in good traffic. It’s just outside of Willow River State Park.”

“We’ll be alone there, right?”

“All alone. I did have someone come in and stock the kitchen so I can cook for you if you’d like. There are restaurants not far away, though, so I can take you out too. Mostly”—André shot him a smile—“I can indulge in having you all to myself.”

There was that look again in his man’s eyes. The look of utter adoration, as if Ian were the only person in the world for André. He still had no idea what he’d done to earn this level of adoration.

He only knew he’d do anything to keep it.

Ian leaned in and kissed his cheek, unable to help himself—he had to touch André.

André caught his hand and pressed a kiss to the knuckles. “Don’t get me started right now, otherwise, we’ll never make it.”

“Kissing you on the cheek is a turn-on?”

“Ian, you breathing is a turn-on. If I ever fail to react to you, call for an ambulance. I’m on death’s door.”

Ian laughed, mostly in delight. Seriously, what was he to do with this man?

André pulled onto the highway and then gestured toward Ian’s crotch. “Undo your pants and get your dick out.”

Ian eyed him suspiciously. What fun thing was he plotting over there, looking all cute and innocent?

They’d just had a long night of sex, and he was still a little sensitive, truth be told.

Also, he’d never been jacked off in a moving car.

He’d had wave after wave of new experiences with André, but was he up for this?

At least, no part of him felt like saying no. “I’m going to like this, aren’t I.”

“You’ll love it.”

Ever since the first time they’d made love, André had taken it as a challenge to sex up Ian as much as possible.

Ian was fine with it, too. It didn’t surprise him at all that car sex was the next thing on André’s agenda.

He undid button and zipper, pulled his dick out so André had access, and then tilted his seat back.

For this, he had a feeling he’d need to be more horizontal.

Those agile, experienced fingers knew precisely what they were doing. They teased the slit, rubbing the head, the pressure just firm enough to be delightful. Ian enjoyed the attention, fully intending on turning the tables as soon as they were safely parked somewhere.

His body, now very used to sex with André, warmed up quickly. His dick grew hard in André’s hand, but still, André used a gentle stroke just around the head, almost a tease.

The obvious hit and Ian said with a groan, “You’re going to edge me all the way there, aren’t you?”

“I am,” André confirmed with evil glee in his voice.

Then deliberately pumped Ian’s dick once with a full hand before going back to the teasing stroke along his cock.

Ian would say something, but his mouth was still uncooperative, his brain off in la-la land somewhere.

“I figured a little attention was a good way to start a vacation. I can finish the job when we get there.”

Oh. Oooooh, he wasn’t done. Ian turned his head to smile at him, because honestly, he liked the attention and the naughtiness of doing this in a car in public. “You’ll fuck me the second we arrive?”

“Oh, I’ll fuck you,” André said, his grin full of male smugness.

“All while biting me?”

“Shit, don’t add fuel to the fire. I’m already dreading the hour’s drive as it is.”

Knowing André had a thing for sex outdoors, Ian decided to throw on even more fuel because he was a little shit. “Promise to rim me before you fuck me and I’ll let you do it right against the car.”

The hunger that flared across André’s face was hot and unmistakable. “You’re on.”

The villa was very nice. Also, thankfully, remote. André had barely parked before pulling Ian out of the car, whirling him around, and rimming him as promised before fucking him against the side of the car. After edging him for a full hour, Ian had been more than willing to go.

Hot sex was so much fun with André. Nothing compared.

The sex had been fast and furious because it was icy cold out here, but the chill against their skin even as he was overheating from the inside felt amazing.

Ian had loved every second of it, very thankful his boyfriend was strong enough to cart him inside.

His legs had been shaking too hard to manage walking right then.

So far, Ian could attest there were nice shade trees around the house, the living room had a wide, comfortable sofa, and there was a kitchen table.

No further details made much of a dent as André focused on consuming him against those surfaces.

There was even a bedroom on the main floor, which André eventually dragged him into.

Sleeping did not seem to be on the agenda for this vacation. Ian wasn’t exactly complaining.

After three rounds, even André’s stamina had to call for a time-out, and they decided a snack was a good idea. Well, Ian would be André’s snack, but sustenance would be had all around.

Ian sent André into the kitchen alone because, well, his legs still shook. He also had no idea where his clothes had ended up. Maybe the front foyer? He wanted at least boxers on before wandering around in a house he’d never been to before.

When his legs felt stable enough to hold him, he went hunting for clothes.

Ah-ha! They were in the foyer—or close to it.

He pulled on boxers, collected pants and shirt tossed over the back of the couch, and got a better look at the two-story house.

Very modern taste in furniture, and with all the floor-to-ceiling windows, it brought in tons of natural light.

It had stunning views, too. As expected of a wealthy family, to have a house as amazing as this only to visit it maybe three times a year.

Come to think of it, could André cook? Being a born vampire who didn’t need human food, had he ever spent time in a kitchen? Ian grew concerned. Mostly for himself. He’d better get in there and take over if it looked like André was fumbling.

He padded over the hardwood floors on silent feet, rounding the corner into the kitchen, which was just as large as his dorm room. Talk about a chef’s wet dream. Everything was marble and stainless steel.

André leaned against the island in the middle, hissing into the phone in a low tone, “No. I told you. I can’t go. I can’t risk it.”

What was this? Was André battling some kind of trouble? Risk what?

“Mom. Please. Stop arguing with me about this. I know I always go with you, I just can’t this time.

Take Benedict and Felix if you want the company.

I know, I know, but I can figure that out.

I—” André’s head came up as he spied Ian walking toward him, and his expression became guarded and shuttered.

Mrs. Castor said something, and André’s attention snapped back to the phone. “No. I’ll handle it. Look, I’m on my trip with Ian right now. I’ll think about it when I get back. Yes, Wednesday. All right? Bye.”

This did not sound good. It sounded problematic. Ian caught his hand and looked up into his face, brows drawn together in concern. “What was that about?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” André avoided his gaze, which he absolutely never did.

The internal alarm bells sounded. Yeah, no, he had no intention of brushing this off. “André, you routinely help me with situations. If there’s something going on, even if I can’t help, I’d like to at least know about it.”

André looked away from him, expression unhappy. “Mom needs to go to France for work and, like usual, wants to take me with her. I told her no.”

That made sense of some of what he’d said, but not all of it. “I see. Were you supposed to do something in France as well? You kept saying you’ll figure it out.”

“It’s an event thing, nothing big.” André waved this off.

Ian had the distinct impression that, for the first time ever, André had just lied to his face. He would be mad about it, but under the distress was another emotion—fear. André’s tight grip on his hand communicated that much. It distressed Ian in turn. Just what was his lover so afraid of?

“Your mother insists you need to be there?” He’d spoken the words slowly, watching each nuance of André’s expression.

“Yeah, but I don’t. I can send someone else, organize things from here. It’s fine.” André smacked a kiss against his forehead. “What do you want to eat? We’ve got all sorts of things in the fridge—”

“André. Do not gloss over this. I don’t want you arguing with your mother or avoiding her by taking me on a trip somewhere.”

“It’s not what I’m doing.”

Bullshit.

“I-I just wanted time with you, uninterrupted. It’s our first getaway together.”

There was that fear again, reflected in his eyes. Ian didn’t understand it. Had he done or said something to make André uneasy with him? Or did this have nothing to do with him?

André gathered him up in an embrace, hugging him tight enough to leave bruises. “It’s fine. I’ll stay in America with you. I won’t leave you.”

It coalesced sharply in his mind. Those words, coupled with this desperate hold of André’s, formed the overall picture. He’s afraid to leave me alone .

Oh shit.

Ian held him back, arms around his waist, not sure what to do about this.

He never once suspected his usually confident lover would harbor any insecurities.

Especially not between them. It disturbed him to see André like this, insecure and unhappy.

He didn’t know how to fix it, either. Start with reassuring him?

“André, if you need to go, it’s fine. I’ll still be here when you get back. ”

“No, I can stay.” He got a stubborn set to his jaw.

“Your mother thinks otherwise. I admit I don’t know the full situation—”

André shook his head and tried to burrow in deeper. “No, it’s fine. I won’t leave you. I’ll stay. I can handle things from here.”

Nothing he said would budge André from this stance.

André pulled back and kissed him, chaste and sweet. “It’s fine, I promise. Now, I know you’re hungry. There’s rice, veggies, chicken—stir-fry should be easy and quick. How does that sound?”

Pushing at this moment wasn’t the right tactic. Ian let it go for now and forced a smile. “Sounds fine, but…do you know how to cook?”

“I’m not a helpless rich boy. Well, I kinda am, but Mary taught me some basic recipes so I can spoil you.”

That earned him a side eye. “I’ll help.”

The tension in André’s shoulders relaxed a hair, and he lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t trust me to cook.”

“Let’s just say seeing is believing.”

“Ouch. I think I just took HP damage.” André smiled, but it was dimmer than usual, stressed. He, too, was trying to move past this almost argument.

Ian had a sinking feeling this could be trouble. If he didn’t handle it right, this fixable thing would blow up in both their faces.

Just how did he fix this?