"It's not going to cure you, Salt. It's just going to take the edge off. We can't give you anything stronger without compromising your effectiveness as a field agent."
Guy was perched on the edge of his chair in a small sitting room at EERIE headquarters. He was too keyed up to relax. He wanted to pace back and forth, but the room was so tiny it precluded that. He stared at the miniscule pink pill in his hand. "I don't like doing drugs," he grumbled.
"It's your choice, of course. My recommendation is that we move Melvin to a different safe house."
"No!" Guy's voice was louder than he expected. He wanted to glare at Ed, but as always, his elusive boss was not physically present. "He needs to stay with me." He popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed.
I hope to hell this works.
He had called Ed shortly after his retreat from Mel and begged him for help with the overwhelming feelings of lust he was having toward the young man. He didn't trust himself to not to do something disastrous.
His obsession with Mel was taking its toll. He couldn't focus on work; perhaps it was a blessing that the vampire seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. He was so strung out on Mel pheromones, he was afraid that if he did run into Valjevo, he wouldn't be able to fight. He wasn't sleeping well, and there was a constant gnawing in his gut that had never been there before. The only time his skin wasn't crawling was when he was with Mel, but perhaps that was because when he was with the beautiful young man, the only thoughts in his head were, "Mine, mine, mine!" and "Fuck him NOW!"
"We also made a tracker for Mel," Ed continued.
"It won't work in the house," Guy reminded him.
"Yes, I know that." Ed had no patience with stupidity, and it was apparent in his voice that Guy was being obtuse. "This is just in case something happens and we need to get him out of your house. Or if Valjevo figures out where he's at and kidnaps him, we'll at least have a way to find him."
Of course. I should have thought of that. My brain is scrambled. That boy has me every which way but right-side-up.
"It's on the table to your left," Ed was saying.
Guy looked on the indicated end table and saw two things, a gold crucifix on a sturdy chain and a thumb drive. He picked up the crucifix, turning it over in his hands. There was no sign of the miniature tracking device that Guy knew must be hidden in it. "Very funny, Ed. What if he doesn't want to wear it? I have no idea if he's even Christian."
"I'm sure you'll think of something," Ed said dryly.
Guy picked up the thumb drive. "I'm assuming that this is the contents of his hard drive?" Mel's computer had been snapped in half by Valjevo during his rampage but not completely destroyed.
"Yes, Bobby managed to get everything off of it, so he's got his files back at least. That boy is a serious geek."
Guy felt a throbbing in his temple and knew that the bulging vein there would indicate to Ed that he was intensely irritated with him for going through Mel's files. Even remote, Ed missed nothing. "He doesn't work for you, you know. You don't have the right to paw through his personal stuff."
"Since when have I followed the rules? I'll use every piece of information I can get if it gives me an edge in fighting these demons. You know that, Salt. You signed up anyway."
"Yes, I signed up. Mel has not. Leave him and his stuff alone."
"He's actually quite brilliant, you know. He could make a great addition to our team."
"No! Absolutely not!"
"It's his decision, not yours."
Guy had no idea what Ed actually looked like, but he'd talked to him so much over the past twelve years he'd developed a firm picture in his mind of a small man in his forties who was thin but wiry. At Ed's words, Guy's vision went red. If his boss had been standing in the room with him, Guy was sure his big hands would be around Ed's scrawny neck, squeezing.
"Christ, Guy! Your blood pressure just went off the charts. You need to calm down."
"How do you know about my blood pressure?" Guy asked taking a deep breath to calm himself.
"We're doing amazing things with technology these days. You'd be surprised what I can find out about a person."
"Well, leave Mel out of it. I don't want you recruiting him. I don't want you talking to him. I don't even want you looking at him—or at any of his stuff."
"Sheesh! Possessive much?"
He's mine!
Guy almost growled that out loud. It was luck more than anything that allowed him to bite his tongue. He scowled fiercely.
"Don't worry. I won't say anything to Mel just yet," Ed assured him. "He can't help us while Valjevo is so bent on getting to him anyway."
This time a growl did come out, from deep in Guy's throat. "Valjevo!" He said the vampire's name like a cuss word. "Haven't you found anything I can go on yet? I know he's still here in the area."
"We're working on it, Salt."
*****
Tigger ran the silk of Guy's briefs through his fingers. Heat washed through his body and he felt his cock start to plump.
Shit! I have to get these back to Guy before they need to be washed again.
It had been two days since he had christened Guy's underwear in the aftermath of that unbelievable kiss, and now they were fresh from the dryer. It was late in the evening; Guy was out vampire-hunting, and Consuela had long since gone home—he hoped.
He tiptoed across the hall to the door of Guy's room, wondering why he was bothering to be quiet. He managed to keep himself from knocking. Instead he cracked the door slightly, fumbled for the light switch, and peeked inside.
Guy's room was restful. The furniture was sleek and black with clean lines. One wall was turquoise, a color that was picked up by the pillows on the bed and a couple of wing-back chairs. Stepping into the room, he saw that there was a beautifully painted mural of a sunset over a tropical beach on one wall. The opposite wall was all window with a view of the dark lake, and another wall was almost entirely mirrored.
The bed was made and everything seemed to be in its place. Tigger wondered if that was Consuela's doing or if Guy was naturally neat. He eyed the bureau. One of the drawers should hold Guy's underwear; he needed to the get the pair in his hand back to its mates. His hands shook slightly as he opened the top drawer on the left-hand side.
Holy shit!
Tigger stared at the contents of the drawer, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. The first thing he noticed was the handcuffs. They were standard, metal, police-issued cuffs and were nestled next to some leather cuffs and lengths of soft-looking rope. His wide eyes wandered to the butt plugs, all lined up neatly in order of size. The largest several looked huge. There were a couple of colorful vibrators, an assortment of cock rings and nipple clamps, and an odd-looking contraption that Tigger guessed was a cock cage. His hand reached out and hovered over the device. As soon as he realized that he was about to pick it up and examine it, he jerked his hand away as if he'd been burned and slammed the drawer shut.
He stood for a moment panting, his body flushed with heat. His cock had become instantly stone hard.
Damn!
He could not keep his imagination from running wild with thoughts of what Guy could do to him with all that stuff.
In a daze, he quickly pulled open the next drawer down. The contents of that drawer caused him to sink to his knees, gasping. Several whips lay on top of some coiled chains. On one side was a tall stack of magazines. The cover of the top one depicted a huge man dressed all in leather, brandishing a long whip. He was standing in front of a smaller naked man who was chained to large wooden structure. Tigger stared at the picture.
Do people really do that?
His eyes wandered to the whips. He could not stop himself from reaching out and fingering the cat-o-nine-tails. It was surprisingly soft, the falls being made of a velvety fabric instead of leather or rope. Tigger wondered if it would even hurt. Some of the other implements in the drawer looked like they would definitely hurt. There was a paddle off to one side, and in the back Tigger spotted what looked like a riding crop. His cock was making puddles of precum in his underwear.
With a whimper he yanked his sweats down, dropped the silk briefs off to the side, and grabbed his leaking staff. Using the clear flow as a lubricant, he started a quick rhythm. From his position on his knees on the floor of Guy's bedroom, he looked at the bed through lust-slit eyes and noticed that there were large eyehooks screwed into the wooden frame of both the head and footboards. His brain immediately supplied a vision of himself chained spread-eagled on the bed while Guy attached nipple clamps.
A wail of need came out of his mouth. His whole body shuddered as stars shimmered at the edge of his vision. Ecstasy washed over him, starting in his balls and spreading out, flowing down his limbs and taking away awareness of everything except intense pleasure.
When his orgasm finally faded, he found himself sitting on the floor of Guy's bedroom, fighting to get air into his lungs. The polished oak was liberally spattered with his cooling jism.
Oh God!
He had been so turned on by the things he'd seen in the drawers that it had taken less than thirty seconds for him to beat himself off.
I can't believe I jacked myself in Guy's bedroom. How pathetic is that?
He climbed to wobbly feet, closed the drawer with the whips and chains, and tucked his cock back into his sopping underwear. His sweats weren't much drier. Staggering into the bathroom, he wet a washcloth and returned to quickly wipe up the evidence of his transgression. He felt panic setting in, sure that Guy would come home any minute and catch him, even though he wasn't due home until dawn.
Maybe he'd tie me up and punish me.
His spent cock twitched and he stifled a groan.
