Page 63

Eric

“ I ’m not sore at all.”

Even though Eric was facing into the apartment, his broad back to Wolfe, habit more than anything else had Wolfe fighting to keep his lips from curling. “Well, darling, if you recall, I never gave you much more than a finger.”

“Still—” Eric turned from the perusal of his apartment—his old apartment—to shrug at him. “It was, you know…all night.”

Now Wolfe’s lips did curl. It had indeed been all night, somewhat of a full-time job, really, ringing orgasm after orgasm from his trembling mate, bringing himself to finish maybe once for every three of Eric’s own.

By the time Eric had begged off, claiming oversensitivity and “serious dehydration” (impossible as a recently fed vampire, but the body sometimes took a while to adjust its expectations), the sun had been cresting over the horizon, and their mutual fatigue had officially dispersed.

It seemed their bond had begun to solidify, as intended.

As evidenced by the new pep in Eric’s step as he led Wolfe into his former bedroom.

And by the smug, satiated little snake Wolfe’s beast had turned into.

Whether the stabilizing effect had more to do with Wolfe coming for Eric when he was needed or their new sexual connection, he couldn’t really say.

And why should he care either way? He had no intention of breaking either habit anytime soon. Or ever.

It was new, this calm contentment radiating off Eric.

Wolfe stopped in the doorway of the room, assessing it.

He had so far only known his mate stressed, confused, restless, agitated, or lustful (or a strange combination of all of the above).

But this morning, pawing through a drawer of what appeared to be loungewear, the connection between them pulsed with something soft and sweet, like nothing Wolfe had ever experienced in his own limited emotional repertoire before.

He wanted more of it.

He stepped inside the bedroom—somehow both messy and unkempt while simultaneously underfilled and underfurnished—keeping a careful eye on his mate, ready to step in if he made one move toward the bottle of aftershave on the dresser.

But Eric only finished throwing his selected heap of clothes into a duffel, then stopped, hands on his hips, a somewhat lost expression on his face. “How much of my stuff should I take?”

Wolfe stepped idly over to Eric’s closet, checking if there was anything in there he might especially like to see his mate wear. “As much as you might need, to entertain you during your leave.”

It had been a simple enough matter, calling in and claiming leave for a medical emergency.

There were an unholy number of forms to fill out, of course.

But that was a small price to pay to have what Wolfe had begun to think of as their pseudohoneymoon uninterrupted by Eric’s work schedule.

And if compulsion became necessary later down the line, Wolfe would make it happen.

“Like what?” Eric asked.

Wolfe cocked his head, turning from the closet. Eric seemed truly perplexed by the thought. “How do you usually entertain yourself?”

Eric shrugged. “Well, I work.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.”

Eric gestured to some texts he had piled up underneath his laptop. “And I catch up on medical research on my days off. Work out semiregularly.” He glanced down at his body, then back up to Wolfe. “I guess I don’t have to do that anymore?”

“Not as such.”

Eric nodded. “And I go out at night. Try to get laid.”

Over Wolfe’s undead body. “Mm. Well, we have that taken care of already, don’t we?”

Eric must have picked up on his miffed tone. He arched his brows, a new, challenging set to his posture. “People think I’m a bit of a slut.”

Wolfe waved a hand. “We’ve also already established people are idiots.”

“I do sleep around though.”

“You did sleep around.” Wolfe studied his mate, who now had his head turned away, avoiding eye contact.

What exactly was Eric trying to make happen with this?

Was he looking for some sort of hall pass, underestimating the fervor of Wolfe’s possessive nature?

Wolfe thought not. Eric clearly lusted after Wolfe, if nothing else.

Was he perhaps a glutton for chastisement?

No, Eric was sensitive to barbs, even if he didn’t show it superficially.

Or was he offering himself up for judgment before he could be blindsided by it?

Yes, that was it.

Wolfe tsked. “You know, darling, there is no inherent morality entwined with someone’s number of lovers. Zero, ten, a hundred. It means nothing, if all parties were consenting. Only misguided puritan attitudes say otherwise.”

Yes, Wolfe had gotten it right. Soft tendrils of relief emanated from Eric, more than Wolfe had expected.

And then Eric was no longer avoiding eye contact at all, instead grinning almost cheekily at him. “So you wouldn’t mind if I upped that body count?”

Wolfe stepped forward before he could stop himself, his voice coming out harsher than he would have liked.

“Not unless you also want to up the number of corpses in Hyde Park. You are mine , Eric Monroe.” Wolfe cleared his throat, forcing himself to take a step back again. “Now collect your belongings.”

It was a meager sampling in the end. Eric’s laptop. The few clothes he seemed to feel some sentimental attachment to. And an assortment of medical textbooks he clearly referenced often.

Wolfe frowned at the half-full duffle. “Any other books, perhaps?”

Eric rubbed at the back of his neck, a flush darkening his cheeks. “Um, I don’t really read. Or, I read a lot, but it’s all medical stuff. These guys, some online journals, articles old classmates send me. I guess that makes me pretty boring, huh?”

Did Eric have a single thought about himself that wasn’t mired in feelings of worthlessness?

It seemed not. Wolfe cocked his head, considering.

“You value knowledge and expertise. If anything, it denotes a curiosity about the world as it is, not as it might be. We’ll stop at the bookstore and pick up a few nonfiction options for you.

Medical-adjacent, to start. We’ll see what other interests we can perk up in that lovely brain of yours. ”

He was rewarded with more of that soft, sweet feeling. It was so easy to bring up now that Wolfe knew the recipe. His physical presence and support, some logical reassurance against Eric’s insecurities.

Perhaps relationships weren’t so difficult after all.

Or perhaps it was simply that Eric was perfect for him, in all his imperfections.

And now Wolfe was becoming absolutely sentimental. He could rival Johann at this point.

Despite that sweet contentedness, Eric narrowed his eyes at him, suspicious. “Why are you being so nice to me? Like you…care.” He tilted his head. “You don’t care, right? Or you can’t?”

The “can’t” was debatable, and Wolfe wasn’t in the mood for debate.

He went for the simple truth. “I desire for you to be happy. Content.”

“Why? To stabilize the bond?”

Wolfe crossed over to him, threading his fingers in Eric’s hair and tugging gently to make sure he was listening to every word. “Because—as I believe I have made clear—You. Are. Mine. Given to me by fate herself. Made for me. I take care of my possessions, Eric. It pleases me to take care of you.”

There. That would ruin this new, sweet softness between them, wouldn’t it? People didn’t usually like being referred to as possessions. It may have been Wolfe’s particular brand of caring, but it wasn’t a popular one.

But Eric only shrugged, the suspicious cant to his expression easing. “Okay. That makes sense.”

Poor, emotionally neglected Dr. Monroe. But it was working in Wolfe’s favor, so he let it lie for the moment. He sighed, releasing his hold and taking the duffel from Eric’s hands. “What else do you do to relax, pet?”

Eric hummed in thought. “Maybe fishing? My dad took me a few times when I was a kid. We ate what we caught, which made my mom happy. She liked fresh fish.”

Not surprising that even in his relaxation, Eric felt he needed to be useful to his parents. “It’s winter, darling. The lakes are frozen over.”

“Oh, right. Um, I don’t know, then.”

Wolfe directed him out of the bedroom. “You were out the other night. The first time I saw you. With friends.”

Eric stiffened under his touch for a moment, perhaps with the realization of just how long Wolfe had been watching him. But it eased quickly, and he shook his head. “They were just medical reps in town. We had drinks and laughs. They left again. Not friends, just acquaintances.”

It was proof enough that Wolfe was rotten, in just how much that pleased him. Ah well, he already knew his faults well enough.

But how to amuse Eric in the meantime? Wolfe would like to think the two of them together, completely isolated from the world, would be enough.

But Eric was used to a fast-paced, high-stress profession.

And though Wolfe would be teaching him to hunt soon enough, he didn’t intend to start until the other blood bag had been used up.

Waste not, want not, after all. And that would give them more time for the bond to stabilize before Eric attempted a fresh feed.

Wolfe wouldn’t want any unexpected complications, or to have his poor doctor arrested for murder.

Eric gave a dejected sigh. “See why I need to work?”

Wolfe tsked at him. “Just because you’ve been stunted until now doesn’t mean you need to remain stunted.”

And Wolfe wanted more of this sweet, soft contentment. What made normal people content? Other people, it seemed. Connections. So perhaps Wolfe would have to resign himself to using a few of his own.

“You remember Danny?” he asked.

Eric shot him an amused glance. “The nurse I work with, who explained vampires to me, who also saved my bacon when I was freaking out at the hospital? Yeah, the name rings a bell.”

Wolfe ignored the sass. “Perfect. Well, it just so happens he hosts a regular dinner for our kind…”