Renner Morgan (9 page)

Rather than interrupt Quintus and Karsten, McBride took his brandy over to Renner. “I should take that down.”

“Sir?” Renner asked after startling enough to almost spill his beer. From the look of it, he hadn’t had so much as a sip. As if he sensed McBride’s curiosity, he gulped half of it down then looked back out the window.

“The stocks. They should go since I have no intention of ever using them.”

A curious light came to Renner’s eyes then. Something almost like lust. Perhaps he was like his brother and had erotic notions about the device. The fact of the matter was that if he were really tossed in them for punishment, he certainly wouldn’t like them.

For a moment, McBride considered talking with Renner about when he walked in on him, but he thought bringing it up would only make matters worse. Sooner or later the embarrassment would fade and Renner would go back to his old self. And if nothing else, at least McBride understood why Renner kept his drapes drawn all the time.

McBride chatted with him a bit longer but then set his brandy down and exited the parlor. He wasn’t certain what had caused his sudden need to get relief, but he saw no reason not to attend to himself. Perhaps it was thinking about Quintus, or talking about the stocks with Renner, or maybe even that smirk from Caleb. Whatever it was, McBride needed to take the edge off, or he wasn’t going to be able to focus on anything else for the rest of the evening.

On the main floor there was a large bathroom that could accommodate three men at a time. Slipping inside, he didn’t bother to lock the door. He’d hear if someone else came in. Besides, locking the door was a sure indication he was up to something inside. If he was quiet, he could reach a quick and pleasurable climax without anyone knowing.

Once he was inside the stall, McBride stroked his hand over his trouser-covered cock, loving the feel of the fine
tallos
weave against his skin. He wore underwear, but they were thin and crafted of an even finer weave of fabric. Since he dressed up so rarely, all his fashionable clothing was in practically new condition. Each pass he made with his hand increased his lust and fueled his fantasy. McBride tried to direct his mind to picture Quintus, but he couldn’t hang on to that image for any length of time. He turned then to the last grinder he’d been with, but that only took him right back to Caleb since he’d thought of him the entire time. Even though he knew it wasn’t healthy, he found himself picturing Caleb on the loveseat with his suggestive smile and his tightly packed trousers.

McBride imagined himself sitting next to him and talking until the other men drifted away, leaving him and Caleb alone in the parlor. The lights were dim, the only sound the soft ticking of the massive clock over the mantle. Caleb would yawn and stretch, forcing his shirt to cling to his chest, drawing McBride’s attention to his hips. With taunting slowness, Caleb would ease his zipper down and free his beast.

McBride was just to the point where he was leaning over to get a mouthful when he heard the door open. It wasn’t a loud bang like a normal entrance would be, but a sly
snick
and a gentle
whoosh
of air.

Irritated, McBride left off his fondling and waited for the other man to leave. He about jumped out of his skin when the door to his stall started to swing inward.

“Occupied,” he called forcefully.

“I know.”

Damn
. It was Caleb. Rather than struggle to hold the door closed, which probably wouldn’t work when he was clearly determined, McBride gave up and let him come in.

“What do you want?” He kept his tone harsh. McBride would have put his hands on his hips, but that would only show Caleb exactly what he’d been doing in the privacy of the stall.

Caleb closed the door behind him and then engaged the bolt.

“Caleb, this has grown tiresome. You had your chance and you decided that—”

One touch of Caleb’s hand against his cock cut McBride off. He wanted to say something but couldn’t get his mouth to engage until Caleb pressed close and kissed him. Rather than speak, he kissed back. Every longing he’d felt for him seemed to erupt into one hot kiss. In the heat of the moment, McBride didn’t care that they were in the bathroom, or that his future mate was sitting in the parlor. He wanted Caleb so badly he was shaking.

They ground their bodies together, deepening the kiss until they were growling at one another. Hungry to have him, McBride shoved Caleb away then turned him so he faced the wall. Before he could react, McBride rammed his body against Caleb’s, groaning when his cock dug into the split of his ass. Without clothing, he’d have his prick buried in him. All he was doing now was torturing the both of them. Rocking his hips, McBride dug his fingertips into Caleb, holding him pinned as he grew ever closer to release.

At the very last second, he realized if he kept up his vigorous thrusting he was going to cream all over the inside of his dress slacks and possibly all over the back of Caleb’s. There would be no way of hiding what they’d done. As difficult as it was to step back, McBride managed. What helped him was remembering the way Caleb had spit out his blood in the shower. McBride knew he’d done it to prevent them from bloodbonding, but it had still hurt. It was why he’d wiped his mouth with the back of his hand after their kiss in the yard.

“You made your choice, Caleb.” McBride stepped out of the stall. “You only want me now because you know I want Quintus.”

“I made a mistake.” Caleb was right on his heels.

“It’s too late now.” McBride adjusted his clothing, using the long cut of his jacket to cover his erection. Next time he felt the need to pleasure himself he’d retire to his room. And he’d be sure to lock the door when everyone, especially Caleb, felt like he could simply walk on in.

“It’s not too late.”

“It is.” McBride clung to the idea that making Quintus his mate would put everything back to rights. Perhaps not the entire world, but certainly his little corner of it. “I’m making Quintus my true companion, so you’d better get used to the idea.”

Renner had never felt so awkward in his life. He’d sat through dinner doing his best not to stare at Quintus, but he couldn’t help himself. He was so beautiful it was impossible not to look at him. His hair was lifted off his face in a series of spikes along the top of his head. Not harsh, gel-encrusted stands of hair, but more gentle rows from him finger combing it and then letting it dry without brushing it. As the evening wore on, the strands began to bend, but that only added to his appeal.

Quintus had shaved before dinner, so his cheeks were smooth, but since he’d been spending time on the porch, recovering as the others, Renner included, worked on the garden, he had more color in his face than he’d had before. His leg was healing quickly, which Quintus attributed to Renner’s diligent care, but Renner wouldn’t take any credit, certainly not from McBride. Every time his master came near, Renner was certain the time had come for him to expose Renner for his shameful activities. Not that Renner thought they were. What he did with Quintus was anything, everything but shameful. He only felt guilty afterward. During their wild lovemaking, he was uninhibited and so happy he felt he had left Earth behind and now lived far above in the clouds. It was only after his release and his heart rate returned to normal that he remembered his vow to leave Quintus alone because he was McBride’s mate.

Quintus never reminded him of that. It was Renner who tortured himself. He was afraid if McBride found out what was going on he would toss Quintus off his land and force Renner to stay. No mate would ever come to him. He would be alone and lonely for the rest of his life. Worse, McBride would never trust him again, but he wouldn’t let him leave because he needed all hands to care for the farm.

Renner didn’t think he could be more miserable if he tried.

After his brothers and their mates began to settle into small groups, Renner excused himself and left. He walked across the yard then the road toward his little house. He passed the stocks and couldn’t help but picture himself tossed in them. Quintus would wait until it was a night like tonight with a full moon turning the world silver and gray. He would bind Renner’s cock and then put him bent over in the stocks so that he could tease and torment his ass for hours before he finally fucked him.

Renner shivered as pleasure pricked over his skin. So far, his encounters with Quintus hadn’t involved any of his leather gear, but that was only because they had always come together in Quintus’s room. There they had privacy. When his door was closed, no one bothered them because they assumed Quintus was either sleeping or Renner was tending to his injury.

Once he was inside his house, Renner closed the door and leaned against it. He sighed and then moved over to the couch. He just wanted things resolved. Quintus said he would tell McBride the truth, but that was two days ago. Renner wanted him to confess almost as much as he didn’t. Things could go so badly if McBride took offense. Given the way McBride kept looking at Quintus, he was bound to be furious. The only good thing was that Renner had not bitten Quintus, even when he’d begged him to. A one-way bloodbond was normal in the case of a gentryman and his slammer. By not closing the loop, Renner gave both of them an out.

Quintus said McBride would understand. Everyone had told him how kind McBride was, and Quintus kept going back to the fact that McBride willingly claimed Jonas as his mate so that Jonas could be with Ollie. Renner hadn’t any idea the two men were so much in love. That was the only thing that kept him from feeling that he was utterly exposed whenever he looked at Quintus. If no one had known about Jonas and Ollie, then perhaps no one would ever know about Renner and Quintus. Perhaps Quintus could be McBride’s mate and still be with Renner occasionally.

While he sat on the couch with his head back and his eyes closed, Renner tried to imagine how that would work. As a gentryman, McBride was undoubtedly a lusty man. He would want his mate daily if not several times a day. Since he was bigger, he would probably penetrate Quintus, but maybe not always. Each time Renner tried to picture his and Quintus’s bodies together, he discovered he was the one on his back with Quintus rising above him. Just the idea of McBride kissing Quintus or rising over him twisted Renner’s belly and tightened his fists.

Unlike his brothers, Renner didn’t want a tiny submissive thrall as a mate. He wanted a man who was as strong or even stronger than him. Once Quintus was fully healed, he’d be able to pin Renner down with his powerful arms and dig his knees into the bed so he could drill his prick into Renner’s ass.

Another shiver caused him to reach down and adjust his straining cock. He and Quintus had found time to be together today, but they’d only kissed and cuddled. It had seemed almost like a good-bye moment to Renner. He hadn’t asked Quintus about what was on his mind, but he’d felt his torment. Perhaps he had changed what he would say to McBride. For all Renner knew, Quintus had grown bored of him. It seemed that after that first frantic time they had been much more languid in their encounters.

So far, Renner had always been on top, but that made sense with Quintus’s injury. He shouldn’t put any pressure on his leg until the scab fell off. That would give any microfractures in the bone time to heal. Renner had been helping him hop from place to place, but it was McBride who carried him down the stairs tonight. Seeing Quintus in his arms almost killed Renner because McBride and Quintus were a stunning couple.

“Enough.” Renner was sick of torturing himself. He didn’t want to let Quintus go, but he also had no say in the matter whatsoever. He was a slammer, and though McBride had changed things on his land, he didn’t think he would be so generous as to give away his own mate. If he did, there wasn’t anyone else for McBride to have. Since the slammers had taken over, there probably weren’t any gentrymen left in town.

That left McBride with Quintus or nothing.

Renner thought about getting up and going to bed, but he found he wasn’t sleepy. Instead, he stayed on the couch and played in his mind. There, he could do whatever he wished with no repercussions. Quintus was his willing master, and they were the only two allowed in his mental landscape. He’d just gotten to the point of being ordered on his knees to suck his master’s cock when his door opened.

He shot to his feet, convinced it was McBride, only to discover it was Quintus.

“I came to feed.”

Blinking rapidly, thinking if he were dreaming that would dispel the vapors, he discovered that Quintus was still there. Moreover, he was walking without assistance.

“Your leg.”

“Is fine.” Quintus pulled Renner close. “McBride went off to feed, too.”

“With—” Renner never got to ask which brother McBride had gone to because Quintus claimed his mouth. He thought of struggling, of putting distance between them, but he knew he couldn’t before he even tried. He wanted Quintus with a desperation that was almost painful.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“No.” Renner wanted to go there, but McBride would surely notice if his potential mate didn’t leave in a timely manner.

“Do you really want me to go?” Quintus stroked over his scar, making Renner melt against him and shake his head. “Show me the way to your bedroom.”

“Down that hall.” Renner pointed and then followed Quintus as he moved that direction. Their progress was slow because while they were moving they were kissing and removing each other’s clothing. When he got Quintus’s chest bared, he spread his fingers as he stroked upward, loving the brush of his hair against his palms. The strands were short because Quintus usually shaved, but when Renner told him he liked body hair, he’d begun to let it grow back. When he caught himself wondering if McBride would make him shave it off again, Renner pushed the notion away.