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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

THE MOXIE IN THE ROOM

T here was no force in a private London hospital, or anywhere in all the world, for that matter, that could have kept Percy from Joe’s side, as he was treated for numerous spider bites. Even if, as they were enlightened by the doctor, there were no black widow spiders in London, and they had both been the victims of the trickery of false widows. Joe swore up and down that he had in fact read reports of the deadly Latrodectus spiders invading the city, citing his symptoms as evidence of their presence. He was informed that his panic accounted for just about every physical symptom beyond the pain in his arm, and he and Percy were, therefore, a quiet combination of relief and embarrassment by the time they were left alone for several hours of surveillance, as it is rare one is bitten by fifteen false widows at once.

There, in the small room, Percy kept the same watch over Joe that he had since the appalling incident began, only now, he was by far the weaker of the two. The pain and the nausea had retreated the moment the creature did, but Percy, who hadn’t eaten in two days, not even raw sheep, had also barely drunk a drop of anything, let alone water. He had punched walls, been head-butted, thrown up, kicked things, fallen over, smacked into walls and doors, dragged Joe’s unconscious body from one place to another, run upstairs and downstairs, expended more energy in worry and cursing and breaking things than was ever advisable, and had very nearly dropped dead from mass haemorrhaging that afternoon. Needless to say, he wasn’t at his best. A drip had been forced into a shrivelled vein, but he still commandeered an uncomfortable chair rather than the bed he had been offered elsewhere in the building, away from Joe. His head leaned back against the wall, long lashes closed over bloodshot eyes, and Joe didn’t move a muscle, in the hope he would fall asleep.

For Joe, the greater part of terror during the entire ordeal, besides the spiders, had come from the uncertainty of what it all meant for Percy. The being inside had swayed over whether to kill him, back and forth, a thousand times. Joe had watched Percy walk the tightrope, sickeningly high, unsteadily, and he’d never once been able to tell which footfalls were strategically placed, and which were blind luck. He knew the being’s intentions regarding his own body, but he couldn’t have gone on without Percy, any more than Percy would have gone on without him.

“Are you going to tell me what it was?” Percy’s eyes remained closed, and he spoke in a thick, almost-asleep voice. “Or is it too terrible for me to know?”

Joe, who didn’t want to rouse him any more than he had just roused himself, supplied a plain and succinct answer. “It was Molly’s familiar.”

Unfortunately, that did indeed rouse Percy, who studied him from beneath a deep frown. “Her familiar? Her evil magical friend?”

“In a nutshell.”

Percy thought things over, concluding with a small nod, “That explains a lot. The demon form in the basement, why it wanted to get to her so badly… And what, its plan was to march you over to her for a grand reunion?”

“Basically. Had you let me go, that was the thing’s intention. Only it doesn’t—didn’t—know how to find her. That’s why it didn’t kill you in the first place. It thought it could tag along, pretend to be me until it figured things out. But it’s not all that good at pretending to be human.”

“No. And certainly not at pretending to be you.” Percy reached a hand out for Joe’s. He held on, letting a moment of quiet fall between them, then asked softly, “Do you still love me? After all those terrible things I told you?”

“It’s not possible for one person to love another more than I love you,” said Joe. “I’ll always love you. Nothing changes that.”

Any tension disappeared with Percy’s smile. “I’m glad I tried to murder you.”

Joe laughed, retaining his beautiful fingers. “So am I. But now that’s over. It won’t try to hurt us again.”

A little white paw stretched out of Percy’s shirt pocket, requiring him to take his hand back to pat it. He did so with an intensely peaceful, sated sort of smile that made Joe pause the conversation there.

“She’s smart, too, you know?” Percy mumbled sleepily, palm coming to rest on the small, purring mound. “They have no idea she’s even here. It’s almost as though she knows to keep quiet.”

“Yeah,” Joe agreed, trying his best to keep his tone light. “She’s unusually smart.”

“Isn’t she?” Percy peeked down at the pink nose and white whiskers, and Moxie offered a little mew for his trouble. With a satisfied glow, he closed his eyes again and sank a little deeper into his chair. “Pretty too.”

“Mmm,” Joe offered, glaring at the vibrating shape on his fiancé’s chest, the paw that scrunched into his shirt to be covered and stroked by his fiancé’s loving fingers.

He would tell Percy.

Any minute now.

Just as soon as the time was right.

The time wasn’t right when Percy and Joe were hooked up to tubes at the hospital. A cab ride was hardly the place for a discussion like that. Upon a three a.m. check-in at Claridge’s, when Percy saw the date and fell into a small fluster about how it was ‘officially Althea’s birthday’, Joe was kept busy talking him out of swinging by her room with surprise champagne.

The art deco halls of the hotel, the gorgeous elevator, the well-appointed bathroom and the much-needed hot showers kept Joe’s mouth closed. Then, when they finally climbed into their enormous bed, in their beautiful penthouse, a grossly luxurious contradiction to the room they’d spent the day in, all Joe wanted was to hold Percy in his arms and let him rest. So, despite the ginger kitten that nestled itself under their duvet, right in the crook of Percy’s arm, where Joe wanted to be, Joe wrapped his arms around Percy’s neck, kissed his temple, and leaned his forehead against his cheek for what little was left of the night.

Thick curtains kept the room in artificial twilight until the following afternoon when the pair awoke. Joe was the first to rouse. Cool air, warm bedding, and the smell of Percy. It was his forever place. His lips pursed to kiss the stubble of Percy’s cheek, and he felt the movement of a smile as Percy woke into the same delightful reality. Percy’s head tilted languidly, and their lips met. Joe’s dick was already hard, and Percy’s beautiful hand reaching across to caress his jaw only made matters more pressing.

Joe, having been strapped to a chair for most of the previous day, when all he’d wanted was to take Percy into his arms, was all over him in a flash. He rolled onto his front, locking a leg over Percy’s thigh. He moved one hand to Percy’s cheek, the other intertwining fingers with his and forcing his arm above his head, where he intended to keep it, to have Percy on full display while he showed him just how much he appreciated everything he’d done to keep them together. Joe’s lips moved to Percy’s neck, kissing him over and over, the smell and the taste of him never enough, ever again. His other fingers took those of Percy’s he’d draped so artfully, allowing a hand to slide down the beautiful neck, his chest, over his pecs, his hard nipples, and down and down until a sudden and searing pain elicited a loud “Fuck!” from Joe, who flung the covers back to reveal Moxie, curled up on Percy’s abs, with an unmistakable smirk on her furry little face.

“Get out!” Joe seethed, shaking his bitten finger at her.

Percy frowned across at him as though he’d gone totally mad. “Don’t yell at Moxie.” He then redirected his attention to the kitten using the most soothing of tones. “How did you get down there?” The kitten stretched innocently as her master’s big hand lifted her up, placing her on the bedside table with a long stroke from her forehead to the tip of her tail. He rolled over to Joe, who was staring pure malevolence at the cat, and pulled him down with an arm around his neck. “Where were we?”

Joe kissed Percy, because how could he not? Percy was a mass of sensual muscle, and Joe knew well he was beyond help. Percy took his hand and brought it down to his dick, and a too-loud groan of pleasure ripped from Joe’s lips at the feel and the promise.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Percy murmured between kisses.

“I wasn’t sure we’d ever do this again,” Joe whispered, grinding his dick against Percy’s thigh.

Percy took a fistful of Joe’s hair. “I’d never let anything come between us.”

“Mew,” said Moxie, pushing her twitching nose up to Percy’s.

“Out!” Joe yelled. He scooped the kitten up, dashed off to the bathroom with her, and slammed the door behind them. Percy waited, hearing nothing but indecipherable mumblings from Joe, punctuated by the occasional meow. A few moments later, the door reopened, and Percy heard Joe’s loud whisper, “He’s my fiancé, and you will keep your paws off him!” The door was closed, with Moxie on the other side howling in protest.

Joe crossed the room in a furious temper, and wrenched open the curtains, where the small shock of an exquisite view over half of London distracted him enough to calm him slightly.

Percy watched him lean against the window, coveting the thick thighs, the shapely calves, the curve of his beautiful ass. “No morning sex?”

Joe shifted his weight, every gorgeous muscle flexing in the afternoon sunlight. “We need to talk. About Moxie.”

“Can’t it wait?”

Joe pulled his eyes from the scenery to argue that no, it was quite vital he tell Percy all details in full at once. But then Percy leaned an arm behind his head and kicked the blanket down. Reclining on the mass of pillows, one leg bent, every inch of him on display, there could never have been a more beautiful frame for the artwork that was Percy Ashdown’s dick.

“We should talk…” Joe attempted.

“Then talk,” said Percy, wrapping his fingers around his cock. He gave it such a compelling stroke, drinking Joe in as he did, that Joe found his conundrum was suddenly far less pressing. In fact, he was quite sure he could spare another hour. Or two. And after all, it’s very hard for a man to talk when his mouth is that full…