Page 39 of High Stakes and Soulmates (Fanged Mistakes #3)

“I’ll get you dog pants.”

“Make sure they cover the balls.”

“I’ll specifically ask for them to cover the balls. I’m actually quite talented with a sewing machine. I could sew you up a little jockstrap.”

“Jesus.”

He’s laughing even harder now. “They make those doggy diapers!”

“I’m just going to refuse,” I decide. “I’m not going to become some… creature that is perfectly fine waltzing around naked, climbing on board game tables, wearing skirts that are see-through, and falling naked onto people.”

Ezio looks concerned. “Hey… you know that doesn’t happen when you become a werewolf, right? That’s just because Julian is strange. I’ll make sure you don’t flash anyone your furry balls.”

“I don’t want to end up like Julian.”

“You won’t,” he assures me. “And to answer your question, I didn’t go to Julian… I didn’t need to because I had you right there. I just noticed you were rousing and got up to get you something to eat.”

“You can still go to Julian for comfort. I was just joking that I was jealous,” I say.

“I haven’t even thought about Julian this evening… well, besides you making me think about his nudity issues.”

“He claims you also have nudity issues. Didn’t you have a whole nude portrait thing you stripped for?”

“Just twice.”

“ Twice ?” I ask.

“The first time, no one would draw me. It was sad and awkward as I stood there naked out in their driveway with no artists available. But if I’ve learned anything over my hundreds of years of life, it’s that if it doesn’t work the first time, do it again. And presto. Casimir drew me.”

“I’m sorry… why were you in the driveway?”

“The only thing that matters is that eventually someone drew me.”

“ Is that the only thing that matters?”

“Of course!”

“Who’d you give it to?”

“Absolutely no one.”

“Maybe I wanted it,” I say.

“Then it shall be yours,” Ezio proclaims, and then he’s gone in a flash. He returns far too quickly and presents to me the weirdest artwork I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

“This obviously should be donated to the Louvre. Like… I feel wrong even holding it.”

“Right?” he asks. “Now that you’re done with dinner, are you ready for dessert?”

“I didn’t know I was saving room for dessert. Unless this is a sex thing and you’re the dessert.”

That makes him stop in his tracks. “Nope. You are wounded. I will get your dessert for you,” he says, and off he goes again.

He returns bearing a steaming lava cake with ice cream on top.

“I totally made it. Not Yorick. Yorick knows nothing. Although… I have to admit that I am slightly fond of him… he was quite nice when you were in the hospital.”

“That’s good,” I comment, not liking the look on his face as he thinks about the hospital. “Ezio, stay focused.”

He looks up and smiles at me. “I’m very focused. I’m fine.”

“Good.”

“You want to watch some TV?”

“Sure,” I say, and then he’s gone again. I assume he’s setting me up a nest in the living room again but nope, here he comes with a large flat-screen TV which he awkwardly holds as he realizes there’s no place for it. “Hmm… I can hold it up while you watch? Ooh, good job for Yorick. Yorick, come!”

Yorick arrives almost on command and looks confused when Ezio hands him the TV.

“Nice, nice. A little higher.”

“I assumed you were having a slumber party that I was invited to, and I find myself oddly disappointed.”

“Why? You’re clearly the main attraction,” Ezio says.

“That is true,” Yorick agrees as he puts the TV on his shoulders so it’s a requirement to stare at his head if we’re actually to watch this TV.

“Where did you get the TV?” I ask.

“Casimir and Julian’s room. They don’t mind.”

“Did you ask?”

“Absolutely not,” Ezio responds, plugging it in and sitting down on the foot of the bed while Yorick shakes his hair free of the band he has in it.

“Let me shift positions. I’m confident my right side is prettier,” Yorick says as Julian stops in the doorway and stares in.

His eyes narrow the longer he stares. “Do I even ask?”

“I mean… do you really even need a TV when you have me?” Yorick questions as he sets the TV down, rips open the front of his shirt, and strikes a pose.

I’m not going to lie… the man knows how to pull off the stupidest shit.

“Or if you want the TV involved,” he offers while he straddles the TV like it’s a horse before tossing his smolder my way.

“I wish I could vomit,” Atticus says, stopping next to Julian. “Johnny. Get me a vomit bucket, please.”

“Right away, sir,” Johnny replies as he trots off and comes back with a hat that I’m positive belongs to Yorick.

Yorick’s attention snaps to Atticus. “Come over here and say that to my face.”

Atticus walks right up to him, and his saunter is so perfect, it’s like he’s walking down a runway. He reaches out, and with one finger, he tips up Yorick’s chin before leaning in. “I wish… I could… vomit,” he says in a low, sultry tone.

Yorick is stone still for a moment before his eyes drift up to Atticus’s. “I’m thrilled I make you feel that way.”

Then he hops off the TV and scurries off.

Atticus smiles, looking proud of himself for some reason as he claps his hands. “Johnny. Go tell Yorick that I won that round.”

“Right away, sir,” Johnny says as they both leave the room.

“What…” I point my spoon at the spot where they were just standing. “What just happened there?”

“I think Yorick needed a moment to himself after that,” Julian says. “I know I would have.”

“How?” Ezio asks. “Absolutely no part of that was sexy! Nothing he said was sexy! I tried for ages to woo Cyrus with steak and flowers and my nude paintings, and that guy just…”

“I didn’t even see it and I can tell you it was sexier than anything you’ve ever done,” Casimir says, appearing just to make a jab at Ezio.

“You shits!” Ezio growls, which makes Julian and me laugh. “I can saunter too. Look at my saunter.” He saunters up to Casimir, of all people, and tips up his chin. “You make me so… horny .”

Julian laughs even harder, and I can’t tell whether it’s the weird smolder that Ezio is trying to do or the look of absolute disgust on Casimir’s face.

“Stop! It hurts to laugh and my ice cream is melting,” I cry.

Ezio throws his hands up in the air. “I give up. I will hold the TV for you.” He lifts the TV up so it’s hiding his face.

“I like it,” Julian says. “My favorite part is this whole thing going on up here.”

Casimir nods. “First time I’ve enjoyed seeing Ezio’s face. But… I think we can fix what’s going on down here,” he says, and then fast as that, he whips Ezio’s pants and underwear down.

Julian lets out a noise of delight as Casimir lets out a “Heh.”

“I am no longer friends with any of you,” Ezio complains as he first tries to juggle the TV while pulling up his pants before resorting to using the TV to hide his dick. When he turns to glower at Casimir and Julian, he finds them both sneaking out while giggling to themselves.

He growls at them for some reason, even though they’re long gone. “So… Atticus walks in, speaks about vomit, and everyone is like, ‘Ooh wow, so sexy.’ Yet I get my pants whipped down and everyone treats it like a laugh track moment.”

I point my spoon at him. “Not everyone. I was impressed.”

“Were you?” he asks.

“I was. I don’t know too many people who would think to try to juggle the TV while pulling their pants up and not just use the TV right away to cover themselves.”

“So you were impressed by my delayed reaction? Is that what I’m hearing?”

That makes me laugh harder. “Maybe. God, I haven’t felt this good in forever.

Or this full. I’m dying inside but I can’t stop eating this.

And when I’m done eating, I’m going to sleep for a very long time.

Then when I wake up, I’m going to be all healed and ready to fuck people up and wear my new werewolf jockstrap. ”

“Clearly, you have some splendid plans,” Ezio says. “I’m going to go steal their dresser so I have a place to put this.”

“Good plan,” I respond, assuming he’s joking until he’s hefting an entire dresser into the room. Then he sets the TV on it and beams at me, as though I should applaud his ability to rearrange Casimir’s home.

“What do you think?”

“Hmm… I think I liked it better when you were holding it with your pants down.”

“I see… I mean… if it’d make you a happy man, I will do whatever you want.”

“Alright then,” I say.

He eyes me then laughs. “I’m not… sure… what to do here. But I know the wrong thing to do would be to actually remove my pants.”

“Would it?” I ask.

“Would it?” he echoes. “Wait! Yes, it would. You are wounded.”

“That’s boring.”

“Good. Safe and boring,” he says. I watch him dutifully come back over to the bed and climb onto his side like we still have that pillow fort between us.

“This date feels a bit more like high school friends who have a crush on each other,” I observe.

“Oh yeah? Did you not see the way I held that TV with my pants down? Would a crush do that?”

“I’m pretty sure your best friend did that,” I say.

“Hmm…”

I reach over and grab his wrist. “Come here.”

Ezio rolls over so he’s lying with his head on my lap. “You are wounded, and I am a strong man.”

“Are you?” I ask, watching the way his finger plays with the waistband of my sweats. “How strong are you?”

“Very strong,” he says as his finger pulls the waistband back a little before quickly withdrawing. “The strongest.”

“Hmm… Sounds very suspicious.”

“It does, doesn’t it.” He turns his head a bit, face tucked against my groin. I swear if he doesn’t touch me after this, I’m going to lie in misery. His finger finds its way back to the waistband.

“These sweats feel a bit tight.”

“They’re very tight.”

“You should definitely keep them on,” Ezio says before he mouths my cock through the sweats. “We definitely don’t want any temptations.”

“Like you’re not the biggest temptation I’ve ever seen?” I ask while his mouth moves over my cock, but with that fucking fabric between us… fuck, he’s going to drive me wild.

My dick is all in. It has none of the concerns he has and is very confident that Ezio should simply remove the fabric that’s standing strong between us.

“I really think we should play it safe and like… watch some TV,” he decides as he cups my ass.

“Is that really what you think?” I ask.

“It sure is,” he says as I reach down and push my sweats down a few inches.

His fingers slide over my bare skin, separating until they rub both sides of the base of my cock. He slowly tugs my sweats and underwear down, freeing my cock from its prison.

“You’re not allowed to do anything,” he orders while his hand slides up my length.

My head tips back as I moan. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the touch of any hand but my own.

And then when his lips brush against the sensitive skin, I find myself reaching down and sliding my fingers into his hair.

I love the way his hair slips between my fingers as his own trail up my length.

He kisses the sensitive skin around the base of my cock before his lips travel up it to the tip.

His tongue swirls around the head before he sinks down on it.

“Take your pants off,” I urge, wanting to see him stroke himself.

Ezio reaches down to unbutton his pants, never missing a beat as he slides down my cock. His free hand strokes his erection, already hard and dripping precum. It feels so fucking good. It feels so goddamn good. But what would feel even better… is him inside of me.

“I want you to fuck me,” I whisper.

He gives me a look, which I’m pretty sure is supposed to tell me that fucking me is the very last thing he’s going to do right now, and that I should be happy that he’s caved this much.

I mean… it’s not like it’s actually putting any pressure on my shoulder or leg, both of which are feeling significantly better than they did days ago.

Ezio takes me deeper into his mouth, like that’ll make me forget what I’ve just asked, and I suppose it does because it feels so fucking good.

“Oh fuck,” I moan. I sink against the headboard, my toes curling while his fingers stroke the base of my cock as he draws back before sinking down deeper.

I’m honestly not sure how much more I can take.

It all feels so fucking good. His fingers trace down to my balls, fondling them and gripping them gently.

It’s like everything he does pushes me faster toward that edge.

The pleasure is racing through me, and I find myself eager for release.

My balls tighten as my fingers dig into his hair.

“I’m going to come,” I say, sounding breathless.

He doesn’t pull off me; instead he sinks down deeper while I come in his mouth.

I moan as his tongue moves over me before he finally withdraws, lifting his head.

And without wasting a breath, he kisses me.

His lips part and he draws me deep while I reach down and blindly find his cock.

I stroke him as his tongue swirls around mine, captivating me, leaving me breathless.

He’s already close by the time I touch him. And it doesn’t take many strokes for me to bring him over that edge. He pulls back from me before hesitating. “You conned me.”

“Did I?” I ask.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m pretty sure no part of that hurt,” I say as he kisses me again before grabbing the box of tissues.

“See? I knew it was a good choice to bring them.”

“Definitely was,” I agree. He cleans us up before sinking down on the bed next to me.

“I want to be spooned again,” he says.

“You’re awfully needy.”

“I know.”

“Maybe I only spoon when you’re least expecting it.”

“I’m definitely not expecting it,” Ezio says as he blatantly rolls onto his side so his ass is facing me. “Not expecting it at all.”

“Kind of looks like you’re expecting something from the way your ass is facing me.”

He just laughs, but when I roll onto my side and drape my arm over him, his entire body seems to relax. “You promise it’s not hurting you?”

“I wouldn’t do it if it was,” I say since my arm itself really doesn’t hurt and the position keeps all weight off my bad side.

“Let’s just stay like this and forget all about everything else.”

“I definitely can’t stop thinking about my fluffy balls on display,” I joke.

Ezio laughs again. “Okay. Forget about everything else. Some wolves don’t shift at all. Some just shift on the full moon. And I’ll be beside you. You’ll probably maul me, but it’ll be worth it. And only I will see your fluffy balls.”

“Never heard anything so romantic in my life,” I tease.

He falls quiet again, and I find myself wanting to chase away all of his worries. Instead, all I can do is squeeze his hand and attempt to comfort him.

“Ezio, stop thinking about what could happen and think about what’s happening now.”

“I’m trying,” he whispers as he kisses my hand. “I’m trying so fucking hard.”

I squeeze him tighter, and even though it puts pressure on my shoulder, I don’t want to let go.