Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Um…
Sign.
I meant sign.
No.
Why aren’t you asleep? I just jerked off in the shower like twenty minutes ago.
Mate.
She’s there now…Doing the same. Punishing me for making her wait until tonight to properly bond.
Need.
Yeah, big guy. I know we need her. The hard on in my pants gives that shit away.
“You are aware that my questions are not rhetorical, Master Draak?” Gene curtly states from across the main kitchen island, drawing my attention away from my recently shined shoes, up to his displeased expression. “I am not intentionally ‘throwing shade’, a Sleeper phrase that Lady Draak has repeatedly used towards Master Draak during their very loud, very intimate bonding spats to which I am forced to avoid by over watering the garden.”
I don’t think you’re supposed to envy your siblings for having bonding spats of all things, yet I do.
I want all that a mating entails.
And according to the verbal power point presentation I was presented with pre-shower she believes she does too.
Perhaps I’m over thinking this.
Yes.
I tug at my white collar in an attempt to cool my unexpected rising temperatures at the same time, Gene snips, “Master Draak, I am not one to raise my voice; however, I am not one to waste my breath, either.”
“My sincerest apologies.” The hand gesture is given prior to proceeding. “You were saying?”
“You were saying,” he reminds while taking the mug of coffee I don’t recall being empty, “that tonight is going to be a special night between you and Lady Pennington. I presume it is a bonding event, but that information is—as I have stated—presumptuous since you have yet to continue the speaking in regard to what makes it special and what it is you need from me in particular. All attempts at unearthing further details that would allow me to tend to my serving duties have been met with long, drawn out, silence.” The hand not magically creating an espresso gives my black tie the tiniest adjustment to the left. “Perhaps there is something on your mind you would care to speak about?”
Mate.
Rather than acknowledge that, I respectfully decline the offer. “No.”
Gene does his best not to flash the level of hurt I know is there by presenting a polite nod. “Very well, Master Draak. I will simply state that if it’s woes regarding your decision to bond or your pending bonding event that you have two brothers who may be of use to you in ways that I cannot.”
Fuck. Me.
I don’t mean to be so cold about the shit.
I just…I guess I expected “the talk” to come from Dad. That he’d be around to give it. That he would’ve lived long enough to see what The Goddess of Fate had instore for us. That he and Mom would be around to see the first of their grandchildren. That I wouldn’t be the last of us to find their mate, therefore I’d be giving them the what to expect when expecting conversations. I am head of this family. I shouldn’t be asking them for anything.
Especially not bonding advice.
“What would you like me to arrange for the night?” Gene inquires, hands folding behind his back. “I assume you will be cooking as that seems to be the Draak way?”
The realization that he has done this twice already, making him the father figure I wish to deny has me shifting my weight uncomfortably. “Yes. I think recreating the first meal we shared together would be romantic.” He’s offered an eyebrow lift of confirmation. “Don’t you?”
“I think whatever you feel is best for your Fated Mate is, Master Draak. Trust your instincts.” He holds my gaze hard. “Your father did.”
It’s impossible to deny him the warm grin he deserves.
“You were always his happy little shadow. The one right under his wing. The one destined to be just like him. You always made him very proud, Master Draak. There was not a moon that passed that he was not doting on how wonderful you were.”
The smile deepens.
“If he were around today, he would be just as proud now as he’s always been.”
“Thank you, Gene. I needed to hear that.” Pride pushes my shoulders back, but another unexpected temperature increase prompts me into abruptly changing the topic, “Can I get a cold brew instead?”
“Is something wrong with your espresso?”
“It’s just a little too hot for it.”
Mate.
She doesn’t control the fucking weather. She’s not that one comic book female that she dressed up as when she was seven. Weather Woman?
Storm.
Right. I should look at that flow chart again.
Need.
Fuck off. You don’t have to remind me to study.
An inward growl of frustration is followed by an additional wave of heat washing over me.
“Very well then, Master Draak.” Gene reaches for the mug granting me the freedom to fiddle with the tie I didn’t realize was on tight enough to cut off air flow. “Would you like it the way you’ve been taking it or another?”