Flinging an arm across his eyes so he wouldn’t have to face Titus, Charlie tried to get up the nerve to apologize. Titus said nothing, only sighed into the silence between him. Charlie couldn’t tell if it was a ‘you’re such a dick, get out’ sigh, or an ‘I’m about to punch you’ sigh, or possibly a ‘you’re a sad excuse for a bed partner’ sigh.
Why wasn’t he saying anything?
Charlie was working himself up into such a state of anxiety that he couldn’t stand it anymore, he had to risk a glance at the man beside him.
Titus was stretched out on the bed like a gorgeous, bronze effigy to some benevolent sex god. His eyes were closed, a small smile played about his lips, and his arms were stretched out above his head. He almost looked as if he were sunbathing on a nude beach. Charlie’s eyes travelled the length of his body like a caress, until they landed on his soft cock that rested against his leg. Glistening liquid streaked his lower abdomen and thighs.
Titus had gotten off, even despite Charlie’s rough treatment? Charlie supposed that was something at least. “Titus?” he said cautiously.
“Mmm,” Titus replied. He arched his back and stretched like a cat, accentuating the long, lithe contour of his body. Charlie’s fingers itched to touch him again, even after his abhorrent behavior. He hoped Titus could forgive him.
“Titus, are you okay?”
“Huh?” Titus croaked. He opened his eyes then, looking at Charlie and blinking owlishly. “Okay? Why wouldn’t I be okay? I’m amazing. Who knew you were such a Dom?” His voice came out gravelly and fucked out, and Charlie’s cock twitched at the sound of it. Charlie blushed and looked away, overwhelmed with guilt.
Titus rolled over so that he was halfway draped over Charlie. Taking hold of Charlie’s chin, Titus forced him to meet his eyes. “Hey, what’s going on? You freaking out? Is this some kind of former-straight-guy crisis? I thought you said you’d already come to terms with being gay. I thought you were into it,” he said in a small voice.
Wait, what?
“Into it?” Charlie squeaked. “I’ve never been more into it in my life! I’ve never lost control like that. I’m so sorry. I could’ve… I didn’t… hurt you, did I?”
Titus looked momentarily stunned, but he recovered quickly, bursting into relieved laughter. He popped Charlie lightly on the cheek. “Jesus Christmas, you scared me there for a second.” He sat up and urged Charlie to do the same, and then he scooted forward to wrap his legs around Charlie’s waist, so that they were face-to-face—and within kissing distance.
“Look at me, babe,” he said when Charlie’s gaze landed everywhere but on his face. He waited until those cool hazel eyes locked with his. “Everyone needs someone they can just let go with, you know? I’m not some simpering maiden, here. If you were doing something I didn’t like, I’m man enough to tell you to fuck right off.”
“I… but, you… I used you like some kind of tool!” Charlie sputtered
Titus’s gaze filled with heat and his cock slapped against Charlie’s belly. “And it was fuckin’ hot, okay? I liked it. I like things a little rough—not always, but sometimes. Honestly, I’m flattered that you were turned on enough to lose it like that.”
He gripped Charlie’s face with both hands, bringing him in for a soft kiss, a brief brush of rough lips against silken lips, stubbled chin against a smooth one. “You really turn my crank, Charlie. You’ve got this total bad-ass job, and you’re obviously a BAMF in bed, but you’ve also got this sweet, shy, steady side. It’s… it’s the contrast that draws me to you. You can be whatever you need to be with me. We’re cool, yeah?”
Charlie took a deep breath and leaned his forehead against Titus’s, the soft black hair tickling his skin. “You’re amazing,” he mumbled. He could feel exhaustion from the day, and from the toe-curling orgasm, coming down on him like an elephant had decided it wanted a piggyback ride. He could barely keep his eyes open.
“And you’re completely worn-out. Why don’t we get some sleep, and we can explore more of your hidden kinks later.”
Charlie hummed sleepily as he allowed Titus to nudge him back down on his back. Titus draped his soft, warm body over Charlie and then covered them both with the covers. As he was slipping into sleep, Charlie felt Titus nuzzling into the hollow of his shoulder and sliding a leg across his hips.
I could
so
get used to this
, was his last thought as sleep took him under.
“Goodnight, Charlie,” Titus whispered.
* * * *
Charlie was warmer than he’d ever been before, and he wasn’t even under the covers. He was lying on his stomach, pinned under a delicious weight.
Titus
. The man was sprawled out mostly on top of him, one leg between Charlie’s slightly spread thighs. Charlie could feel the steady rhythmic beating of Titus’s heart where it was pressed against his back.
Not wanting to move, Charlie sighed and squeezed his eyes tight to shut out the light.
This is how it should always be
. The thought startled him a little, but that didn’t make it any less true.
They’d slept for a few hours during the night, and then woken up both raring to go. They’d gotten off rubbing against each other like teenagers, like the first time they’d been together. Titus had wanted Charlie to fuck him, he’d asked for it, but Charlie was still reeling from the force of his desire that caused the surprise face-fucking. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for the full monty, so to speak, so he’d begged off. Titus hadn’t seemed to mind, especially since he came twice during the course of their mutual rub-off.
After having been in so many unsuccessful relationships with women, and never getting around to trying one with a man, Charlie had thought his sex drive was average-to-low. But around Titus, he seemed to be popping wood every time the guy looked at him sideways… not that he was complaining.
Charlie hated to break the spell of their little cocoon of warmth, but he desperately had to unload his bladder. He gently pushed back against Titus until the man rolled off of him and curled on his other side. Without opening his eyes, Charlie rolled over onto his back and rubbed his face vigorously. He hated mornings.
Finally, he cracked his sleep-crusted eyelids open and got the shock of his life. A woman stood by the foot of the bed, leaning against Titus’s desk. She had salt-and-pepper hair, scraped back into a severe bun, tacky gold earrings dangling at her ears, and a scowl on her face. Her arms were crossed sternly over her chest, and she had multiple rings on each visible finger.
“
Jesus Christ!”
Charlie shouted, scrambling to drag the sheet up and cover his naked body.
Titus bolted upright when he heard Charlie yell, and frantically looked around the room for the threat. His eyes landed on the woman, he groaned and lay back down, not even attempting to cover himself. “Oh, come the fuck on, Granny!”
“
Granny?!”
Charlie squeaked, unable to grasp the absurdity of what was happening. “This is your grandmother? In your room? While you’re—
we’re
naked?”
“She wants to break into my room, she can deal with getting an eyeful.”
Hester glared at Charlie and then smirked at Titus. “Not so much an eyeful, boy.”
“Nice, my granny is insulting my package. Good morning, Titus,” Titus said, rolling his eyes.
“What is happening?” Charlie asked, bewildered and turning completely red—all over.
Titus climbed out of bed, unashamed of his nakedness, shuffled over to his dresser and pulled out some underwear, which he hastily stepped into. “Really, Granny? Breaking and entering? Isn’t that a little beneath the
Phuri Dai
?”
“Wasn’t breaking. Room wasn’t locked,” Hester said indignantly.
“Yeah, but I’m willing to bet money my
house
was!”
“Pfft,” Hester replied, waving it away like she did everything else.
Titus pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before grabbing Hester by the shoulders and shepherding her toward the door. “I’m so sorry Charlie. I’ll take care of this… take all the time you need to get dressed, shower, whatever else. We’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Uh… okay,” Charlie answered, still stunned. He could still hear Hester babbling as she was escorted out.
“That’s your
gajo
lover then? At least he looks like a real man.”
“Unlike me, huh, Gran?”
“You said it. He’s more handsome than the greasy one at the shop. That one had wolf-eyes.”
What greasy one?
Charlie gave up wondering about it. His cock and balls had shriveled to the size of walnuts after waking up to find his lover’s grandmother staring him down. He tried not to let that unfortunate turn of events ruin the memory of the great night they’d had.
Showering quickly, Charlie dried off and got dressed. After dawdling as long as he dared, he went out to face the firing squad of Hester Faa.
Chapter Eleven
Two hours after her rude entrance, I sat across from Hester at our rustic pine butcher block. I had made her favorite Earl Grey tea with honey and lemon, just how I remembered her liking it, but it didn’t make a dent in her disdainful expression. I didn’t waste my breath lecturing her about sneaking into my bedroom—she didn’t give a shit.
Poor Charlie was probably completely traumatized—he’d certainly looked like it when he left. It was bad enough that he thought he’d taken advantage of me. Completely the contrary. I loved the wild, unhinged side of him. I’d never found a man willing to take me there before, and God I hoped he was willing to do so again soon.
Hester pegged me with a hard stare and it was all I could do not to squirm like a little kid. I would
not
let her intimidate me; she was in
my
house now.
“Must be bad, you had to send for me,” Hester offered.
My fingers clenched around my coffee mug, the steaming liquid untouched. I closed my eyes briefly while I tried to figure out how to explain what I was going through, and how I expected her to help me.
Before I could come up with anything, she spoke up first. “How many spirits you see, boy?”
I looked at her with my tired eyes and sighed, deep and weary. “All of them, Granny. All of them.”
Hester sort of froze, an almost imperceptible stilling of her muscles. Then some kind of expression passed over her leathery face. It was something akin to sympathy. That was certainly an emotion I never expected from her. Her lips tightened and her gaze turned sharp. She looked at me now as if I were a science experiment.
“Then how do you control them? How do you keep them out?” she asked, seeming to be genuinely curious.
I shrugged, because if I knew how to do that with any effectiveness, she wouldn’t be here. “The shop has been cleansed by a witch. I paid out the wazoo for that.” I gestured to indicate the room we were sitting in. “I warded the house myself. So far it’s been… mostly effectual.
“When I’m outside, I just blast music in my headphones so I can’t hear them. That usually works, but sometimes they get into my head. I do the best I can, but I can’t really go anywhere besides work and back.”
Hester cocked her head and stared some more, blinking. “No magic?”
“No magic. I’ve long forgotten what little I learned before I was banished. You know that. I only found out how to ward this house from searching the internet.”
Cursing in
Romanes
, Hester stretched her arm out across the knotty wood of the butcher block, and rotated it so that I could see the soft underbelly of her forearm. There was a tattoo there that I’d seen before but never really paid attention to. It resembled the warding symbols I’d painted in strategic places around the townhouse—hidden places, so that Riot wouldn’t find them.
“This is what you need,” she said.
“What is that?”
“
Sapaśaṭāzho
.”
“That’s not
Romanes
,” I said, confused. She was speaking a language I’d never heard before.
“Not a dialect that you would have ever heard. This is way before your time, boy.”
I studied the tattoo more closely. There was a large circle, about two and a half inches in diameter, and inside that was a smaller circle. The outer ring was divided into quarters by a set of arrows resembling a compass rose. Within each quarter was a different symbol, and there was also a crude shape in the center circle. I had no idea what any of it meant.
“How is this symbol I’ve never seen, named in a language I’ve never heard, going to help me with my problem?”
Hester looked at me like I was mentally challenged. Hell, sometimes she made me feel like I was.
“Your problem is the spirits have a direct, open line to you always, yes?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“All
chovihani
are born with this. It is our burden. The
sapaśaṭāzho
sigil can mute the voices, allow you to hear your own mind.”
“What does the word mean?”
“There’s no good word in the
gaje
language. The closest thing would be… what’sit… clarity. It makes your own thoughts clear, makes the
mule
quiet. You have to focus hard to be able to hear them when you have the
sapaśaṭāzho
.”