“No, no,” Ernest said with a fond glance at his mate. “I have a feeling if you try to leave it for the weekend, we’re just going to be pestered silly by Toby. So no, I’ll take Toby into work while you enjoy your coffee. We’ll go and check out a couple of those paddocks when I get back. I think we’re having a bit of an irrigation issue in one of the corner paddocks. We’ll go and deal with that. And then… yeah… I don’t know. I’m sure there’ll be other things to do.”
Ernest was always casual like that. He wasn’t a fan of giving Rick orders, but then Rick was usually quick to take initiative anyway.
“Come on, Toby, we need to get your butt to work. And, yes, you can talk about this with your friends, but make sure you think of something wonderful for dinner, all right? Probably not penis cake,” Ernest added, with a warning look at a grinning Toby. “We don’t know this Ian yet, and a penis cake is better left as a housewarming present.”
“I’ll text Ian and make sure he’s free.” Rick pulled his phone out of his pocket. He remembered the penis cake—it was delicious. He didn’t think Ian would mind, but perhaps not the first time he met the person who was essentially Rick’s boss and his mate.
Rick also wanted to check in on his mate and make sure that he was all right, because the feelings he was getting through their bond—like a form of low-grade anxiety—made him wonder if he and Ian were having the same issues.
Maybe we both want to be closer to each other through the day, but don’t know how to say anything yet. Or that could just be my wishful thinking. I’ll give him a text and seeif he’s free for dinner, he thought as Ernest was shepherding Toby out of the kitchen.
“But I want to know more about this Ian.” Toby was grumbling as he was marched out the door.
So do I, Rick thought, realizing there was actually a lot he did know about his mate. But he was grinning as he typed out a quick message. Logically, he could talk to his mate anytime, but learning what made that man moan was a hell of a lot of fun. Yes, the other stuff was important too, and Rick was determined to be an amazingly supportive mate in all areas of Ian’s life, but his mate’s sweet moans were really delicious.
Chapter Ten
Ian
It all seemed so easy this morning. So logical. He had to go home because that’s where his computer was. It was where his files were sitting on his office desk. Only for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to be logical. He hated logic when he was alone, at home in his office.
The three wonderful days they had spent together just weren’t enough. Ian rubbed at the center of his chest, where there was a lingering sense of separation, like he’d lost a limb and was having fantom pains. It was the only way he could describe it. Silly really, when he’d never been clingy. Yet here he was resisting the urge to ring Rick and insist that he come and get him and see what surfaces were left to christen in his lovely home. To forget the world outside and hibernate.
Ian found himself staring out the window unseeing, daydreaming about what it would be like to live in that gorgeous house—together, doing all the wicked things his mate was capable of. It felt naughty to take a weekday off when it wasn’t true vacation time.
There is absolutely nothing naughty about taking a day off. Now, what our mate did to us over his kitchen table, that was deliciously naughty.
I do not need reminding,Ian snapped at his animal side, his ass shifting on the seat as he worked not to think about how frisky his mate’s tongue was or just how deep…no not thinking about that.
He shivered with desire and was grateful he didn’t have a secretary to walk in and wonder where his thoughts were traveling with how it smelled.
It was better to think about why he was feeling out of sorts. They hadn’t talked much about the future. How could they when most of the time, they’d been using their mouths for other, more interesting things?
He shifted once more, readjusting his cock to get it into a more comfortable position. His cheeks were hotter than a furnace when the phone at his elbow rang barely a second later, and he gave it a guilty look.This is a workday, behave yourself.
He hadn’t checked the answer machine messages despite it flashing to advise he had some. Was it wrong to want to keep the real world at bay and treasure the bond he’d formed with his mate just for a little while?
That blinking light and the knowledge that there were several engagements Mom had mentioned to him when he’d canceled for Saturday, meant he knew some of those would be from his mom. One glance at his wristwatch said this call was personal. He loved his family deeply, and they would be pleased as punch that he’d found his mate, it was just that there was always this expectation that he would fit in with everyone else’s plans first—that his weren’t as important as theirs.
He swallowed the groan of worry and reached for the phone reluctantly, forcing himself to add cheerfulness to his voice, “Good morning, Machin’s Risk Assessor, how can I help?”
The girlie laugh identified his sister, Maisie, and Ian felt a little of the tension in his shoulders release at it not being Mom. “Where have you been hiding? I tried calling you yesterday and left several messages, didn’t you get them? I need you to babysit tonight as Rupert has made dinner plans for us.”
Now came the sigh, not that his sister noticed. How did one tell a sister he didn’t want to babysit, despite how much he loved his nephew Alfie? He wanted to spendallhis time with Rick. Not that she was giving him a chance to tell her that. His sister didn’t even ask if he could, she just assumed and used the same tone as Mom did and expected him to fall in with their plans. She continued talking, not once giving him the chance to reply.
To say ‘no’.
Our mate comes first,his pushy honey badger insisted, feeling him weaken as she plowed on.
“—it’s going to be so romantic, and as he was never one for romantic gestures, I’ll take this.”
Ian missed what the romantic gesture was and shook off the desire to automatically say ‘okay’ when it was there on the tip of his tongue. “I’ve met my mate,” he interjected when she took a breath.
“I need you here by… what… hang on, what did you say?”
“I’ve met my mate,” he replied, chuckling at how long it took her to register what he’d said. He didn’t hold it against her. He was used to it.
“Holy badger! When? Where? Who is it? Have you told Mom and Dad? Told Winston or William?”
