“I’ve never liked a dude enough to do anything with ‘em before,” Stanton admitted. “Have you?”
Jerome coughed into his fist, then jerked his chin down in a tight nod. “Yeah, man. I have.” He pointed at the line of johns. “Your turn, Stanton.”
Turning, Stanton noticed the slightly ajar door of an empty stall ten feet away. He nodded and headed inside. Making quick work of using the facility, he relieved his bladder with a sigh.
Once Stanton had finished, he exited and went to the hand-washing station. Jerome met him there.
“So what should I do?” Stanton asked, resuming their conversation. “Francois wants to take me to his bed, but he’s only here for a couple of weeks.” He’d overheard the man’s comment to Lilibeth. “Is it better to learn from someone you’re never gonna see again? Or should I look for someone to date?”
Stanton felt his gut twist a little at that idea. His attraction to Francois was strong... really strong. Would he be able to find another guy that he like liked so much?
Jerome sighed heavily as they fell into step and headed toward the food vendors. “This is one of those things where... I can give you advice, but you’re the one who ultimately has to make the decision.” He paused and gripped Stanton’s shoulder, giving it a brotherly squeeze. His expression held a serious quality that Stanton rarely saw on his relaxed friend’s face. “You have to decide because you are the one who has to live with the consequences.”
Stanton nodded, understanding. “Okay. So what’s your advice?”
The corners of Jerome’s lips twitched. He held Stanton’s gaze for a few more seconds, and then he glanced around the space. Stepping closer, he tipped his head up so he could whisper into Stanton’s ear.
“If you’re gonna learn about man-sex, then you want a partner who’s patient and giving. See if he’ll suck your cock.”
Gaping, Stanton jerked backward. He stared at Jerome as shock filled him. “Really?”
Jerome chuckled as he nodded. “Sure. If he wants you in his bed so bad, he needs to earn the honor.”
Stanton cocked his head. “Honor?”
“Absolutely.” Jerome pushed at his shoulder, then started forward again. “I know you don’t hook up much, so maybe you’d like to get to know someone before doing the horizontal tango.” His brows furrowed as he peered at Stanton. “If that’s your bag, you could make him take you out on a date.”
Furrowing his brows, Stanton sorted through Jerome’s words. Sometimes, his buddy began talking in slang, and he had to ask for clarification. He figured horizontal tango was clearly sex, but why was Jerome talking about his bag? Bag of what?
“My bag?” Stanton voiced the question, trusting Jerome to explain.
Jerome grimaced. “Sorry, man.” He pointed, indicating that they were coming up on a table where their friends were sitting, eating, and waiting for them. “Saying if that’s your bag is another way of saying if that’s what you prefer.”
“Okay. Weird,” Stanton muttered under his breath. “Who comes up with this shit?”
When Jerome just laughed and shrugged, Stanton figured the man didn’t actually know.
Falling silent, Stanton made his way to the table. He spotted the empty chair beside Francois and headed toward it. To his delight, he saw a plate before the seat, and it contained his favorite treat—fried bread covered in powdered sugar as well as strawberries and whipped cream.
“Oh, wow,” Stanton rumbled, settling on the chair. “Is this for me?” It seemed pretty obvious, due to the placement, but he didn’t want to steal someone else’s dessert.
“It is.” Francois held out a fork. “Lilibeth said it is your favorite?”
Stanton took the fork as he nodded and grinned. “Yeah, it is. Thanks.” After stabbing the tines into the edge of the fried bread, he flashed a wide smile Francois’s way. “Thank you. This was awful nice of you.”
“It is my pleasure,” Francois replied, his voice turning husky. “My only request is will you allow me to try a bite?”
“Oh, yeah.” Stanton cut off a piece of the crispy, sugary goodness, then slid it through the strawberry sauce. He finished by stabbing a strawberry piece and swiping up a small dollop of whipped cream. “Here.” Lifting the fork toward Francois’s face, Stanton offered, “You should have the first bite.”
Instead of taking the fork, Francois opened his mouth and leaned closer.
Stanton eased the forkful of food into Francois’s mouth even as he felt his cheeks heat. Seeing the slender, refined-looking man’s lips wrap around the tines, he swallowed hard. His gut clenched, and his mouth watered... and not in anticipation of the food.
Instead, an image that shocked Stanton pushed into his mind—taking those lips in a deep, plundering kiss... so he could taste the sweet concoction from the other man’s mouth.
Sucking in a sharp gasp, Stanton tore his focus away from Francois’s heated expression. As he prepared a piece of the treat for himself, he inhaled deeply. He tried to regain control of his breathing, which suddenly felt too fast.
Stanton took a bite. To his relief, the flavor of the sweet, strawberry goodness burst across his tongue, driving all thought from his head. He hummed appreciatively and chewed quickly as he cut off another bite.
While shoving his second forkful into his mouth, Stanton heard Francois chuckled roughly. “If you make zose noises every time you eat zat, Stanton, I will buy it for you daily.”
His cheeks began to heat again when he chanced a glance Francois’s way.
Clearing his throat, Stanton mumbled, “Can’t eat this kinda thing every day. Would get fat.”
“Zen I would just have to find a way to help you work it off.”
Stanton gaped at Francois, his hand stalling halfway to his mouth. He took in the self-satisfied smirk curving the pale man’s thin lips as well as the twinkle in his hazel eyes, more green than brown in their gleam. The look on Francois’s face once again pulled Stanton’s attention to his lips... or maybe that was the dab of chocolate at the corner of his mouth, a leftover remnant from the chocolate ice cream cone he’d been eating.
The sound of his strawberry plopping off his fork yanked Stanton’s attention away from Francois.
“You and Francois can gaze heatedly at each other later, Stanton,” Rhyme teased, tapping his shoulder. “The ride leaves in ten. Eat up.”
Focusing on his food, Stanton grunted.
As Stanton chewed, Francois leaned toward him and whispered, “I’m not sorry I distract you so, Stanton.” He rested his hand on Stanton’s thigh and squeezed. “You do zee same to me.”
Stanton glanced Francois’s way again. Even with the heat gleaming in the man’s eyes, his focus again slid to the chocolate on his mouth. After swallowing, Stanton gave in to temptation.
Reaching out his free hand, Stanton gripped Francois’s neck. “I don’t understand why I’m so attracted to you,” he muttered as he leaned closer. Then he swiped his tongue along the corner of Francois’s mouth, cleaning him of the chocolate.
“I will explain it to you in time,” Francois murmured, his chest rising and falling quickly, telling Stanton how affected he was by his move.
“Okay.” Then Stanton pecked a light kiss to Francois’s lips and pulled away.
Francois swayed toward him before catching himself. His tongue flicked out, and he licked his lower lip. “You are a tease, Stanton.”
Shaking his head, Stanton smiled at him. “Naw.” He pointed his fork first at his dessert. “You bought me this epic dessert, and it would be rude of me to waste it.” Then he waved it in a circle, indicating the area. “And we’re in the middle of a seating area that’s filled with families. This isn’t the place for the kind of kisses I wanna lay on ya.”
Stanton’s face heated when he shared his admission, but it was the truth. He wanted to really taste the man. He’d never experienced such a deep desire.
But should I ask for that blowjob or not? Stanton shoved his food into his mouth, although he w
as barely tasting it now. Would asking for a date make me come off as a prude, since he’s only in town for a short stay?
His gut churned for a second at the thought of Francois leaving. He had to swallow hard to keep his treat down. Shaking his head at his tumbling thoughts, he used the last of the bread to wipe up any remaining traces of strawberry sauce and whipped cream.
“All right, then.” Rhyme stood, and Max bounced out of his seat. “Let’s throw away our trash and get to the ride. I already texted Tyler. He’s the one loading people, so he knows to save us seats.” The guy waggled his eyebrows. “Being friends with the employees has its perks. Otherwise, we would have needed to get in line at least fifteen minutes ago. This thing always fills up fast.” Wrapping his arm around Max’s waist, Rhyme picked up his and his partner’s stack of dirty paper plates and napkins with the other. “Come on.”
Damn, that is nice.
Everyone followed Rhyme’s example.
As they strolled over to the staging area for the start of the hayride through the haunted forest, Vernon fell into step beside Stanton.
Stanton just kept his frown off his face.
Vernon must have read something in his expression, however, for he twisted his lips into a wry smile. “Sorry about hitting on your man, Stanton.” He bumped his shoulder into Stanton’s, adding, “I didn’t realize you were meeting a date here. It won’t happen again.”
Sighing, Stanton admitted, “I met Francois in the maze. He isn’t my date.” Then he felt Francois squeeze his opposite hand where he walked on his other side, and he realized he needed to amend that. “Uh, I mean, I guess he is now, um, sort of.” Stanton furrowed his brows as he glanced Francois’s way. “Is this a date?”
Francois’s eyes twinkled in the evening light as he lifted their twined fingers. “Even if you do not consider zis a date, Stanton, I would love to take you out.” He nipped at Stanton’s knuckle, the bite stinging lightly even as a tingle went up Stanton’s arm. “It would be my honor to be seen around town wiz you.”
Stanton sort of felt the opposite. Francois was suave and confident, lean and pretty with his toned frame and aristocratic features. Stanton would be honored to be seen dating this man.
Guess that answers that, too.
Turning back to Vernon, Stanton stated, “Apology accepted.” Then he frowned as a rush of possessiveness flooded his gut. “Don’t do it again.”
Vernon laughed as he nodded. “You got it.”
Grinning happily, Stanton helped his date onto the hay wagon.
Chapter Six
Keeping his hands mostly to himself on the hayride was one of the hardest things Francois had ever needed to do in his life. Now that Stanton had begun to accept his advances—and in part, their connection—he wanted to get him alone so he could move them forward as swiftly as possible. The scent of the man’s blood filled his nostrils, causing his mouth to water.
The small drop Francois had helped himself to from Stanton’s knuckle when he’d kissed it in no way satisfied him. Due to knowing he would be meeting his beloved, he hadn’t taken a donor for over a week. Instead, Francois had been living off bagged blood.
I am so ready to end that habit.
Drinking bagged blood just wasn’t the same as enjoying the succulent life-giving fluid from the source. On top of that, he knew sustenance from his beloved would be better than anything he’d ever experienced. Even just the couple of drops he’d had over the evening caused his pulse to race and sent energy zinging through him.
Instead, Francois settled for occasionally massaging Stanton’s impressive thigh muscle. After all, there were children on the ride. It helped that Rhyme kept offering him encouraging looks.
Francois didn’t know much about the vampire, but he thought that was nice of him.
On the ride, Francois found he enjoyed watching Stanton’s enthusiasm. The huge human seemed to have an inner light that burst out whenever he grinned or shouted enthusiastically. Stanton’s voice was so deep and rough, but his brown eyes appeared to glow with his happiness any time he pointed at some new, interesting display set up in the woods.
Stanton laughed when he saw the set-up of the mad scientist electrocuting the man. His human winced when they trundled past a display of a man being drawn and quartered. At least the limbs were still attached. Although the recorded screams and cackling of the other men were threatening to send chills up Francois’s spine. When they saw an animatronic Baba Yaga scooping stew out of her big black pot—which was full of fingers and toes—cries of, “Eeewww,” erupted from those on the ride, Stanton and Francois included.
Between displays, there were plenty of ghosts, flickering lights, shrunken heads, and more hanging from branches.
Francois found himself impressed.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t grateful when the almost hour-long ride came to an end.
After everyone had unloaded, Vernon and Lloyde said they were going to call it a night. They headed toward the road, opting to walk the dimly lit path instead of waiting for the wagon. Lilibeth had grabbed Max’s hand, and they’d darted toward a booth that sold tickets for the games. Rhyme immediately followed.
“What about you guys?” Jerome asked, glancing between them. “You going to check out the games?”
Francois lifted one brow as he smiled up at Stanton. “What would you like to do, handsome?” Winking, he asked, “Would you like me to win you a stuffed dog?” Francois pointed toward the game where you threw a dart at a balloon.
For a second, Stanton’s brows furrowed. Then a crooked smile spread over his lips. “Only if you let me win you a goldfish.”
Stanton indicated the booth where he needed to land a ping-pong ball into one of the small, water-filled jars that had a goldfish in it. There were dozens of jars, and only a handful had fish in them. The table also rotated.
“You zink you can do zat?”
Francois found himself impressed at just the idea. While he could throw a dart with deadly accuracy, he couldn’t toss a ball for shit. He had learned to chuck knives over a century before after his coven had been invaded by a pack of wolf shifters bent on taking over their coven’s land. They’d been rogues who’d banded together and didn’t have any territory of their own. Their coven grounds had been located on the outskirts of Nice and would have afforded the rogues plenty of space to run in wolf form.
He’d ended up locking himself in the pantry when three shifters had converged on him at once. One or even two—maybe—he could have handled. Once he’d been saved by the enforcers and trackers, he’d decided to learn how to give himself a ranged weapon—his knives.
“Yeah, I can do it,” Stanton replied confidently. “I used to pitch in softball.”
While Francois didn’t know how that correlated, he nodded anyway. “Let’s go get some tickets, zen.”
“I’ll join ya’ll,” Jerome fell into step with them. “Give your ticket to Max or Lilibeth. They’re already almost to the front of the line.”
“That’s cutting,” Stanton countered, shaking his head and heading toward the end.
Jerome laughed, grabbing his arm and stopping him. “No, it isn’t, Stan. It would only be cutting if you got in front of them in the line.” Jerome began guiding him toward the front of the line. “There’s still the same number of transactions because all you’re doing is giving them your ticket to exchange for more game coupons.”
Stanton nodded with furrowed brows. “Okay.”
Francois cocked his head, trying to figure out why Jerome had spoken to Stanton that way. It didn’t seem to be one friend giving another crap. Then Francois remembered how Stanton had asked Jerome to explain putting words in another’s mouth.
Huh. What’s up with my beloved?
Knowing he wouldn’t figure it out while standing off to the side, he quickly hustled forward as he pulled out his wallet. He gave Max some money and made his request. Max nodded as he leaned close.
“Is he your beloved?” Max whi
spered into his ear.
Francois would have thought Rhyme had already told him that Stanton was. Maybe the human just wanted to confirm. Unable and unwilling to deny what Stanton was to him, Francois nodded once.
Max nodded back, his brows furrowing. “Be good to him.” Then he moved to the ticket counter.
Once everyone had their tickets, they meandered through the games. Francois stopped at the dart-throwing booth and handed over his tickets, and the human behind the counter gave him three darts. After hefting each one, he easily used them to pop three balloons.
“What color stuffed dog would you like, handsome?” Francois asked, just managing to taper his smile so he wasn’t showing off his fangs.
“Uh, blue.”
The attendant handed over a blue medium-sized stuffed dog.
They moved to another booth, where Max tried to toss a ring onto bottles. It took him buying rings three times, but he finally managed it. He then gave the teddy bear to Rhyme.
Francois had needed to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his amused smile.
They reached the ping-pong ball toss, and Francois found himself doubly impressed. It took all three balls, but Stanton sank one into a jar with a goldfish in it. When a grinning Stanton handed him the plastic bag holding the fish, Francois wondered what the hell he was going to do with it.
Guess a trip to town to get supplies is in order.
At the next booth, Rhyme zinged the baseball at the milk bottles, easily knocking them from the pedestal. He gave the stuffed cat to a little girl who’d been passing by... who was dressed in a cat Halloween costume. After confirming that Francois didn’t mind, Stanton gave the dog to her slightly older sister, who was dressed as a fairy. Their brother received the bear.
A moment later, they noticed a clearly disappointed pair of young ladies at the booth they’d just left. One woman held the hand of the second, assuring her that it didn’t matter if she won or not. Then she gave the clearly disappointed girl a kiss.
Francois glanced at Stanton and held up the bag he carried. Stanton huffed softly as he smiled. Crossing to the pair, he waited until they stopped kissing lightly before clearing his throat.
125 Navigating the Vampire Maze Page 4