Chapter Twelve
Unsure of what happened, Emesh realized somewhere between coffee in the kitchen and being perched in the cab of the tractor heading out of Amherst, Douglas had done a three-sixty. His surly attitude upon awakening became history. He talked about picking up their load in Springfield and overnighting at a rest stop the other side of Cleveland. He sounded almost warm, making the decision they would leave the Pike and stop at a diner for breakfast in West Stockbridge.
Granted, small talk remained sparse during the forty-five minutes to Springfield, but once they arrived, Emesh showed such interest in the attachment of the large fifty-three-foot trailer, the explanations of tires, axles, and fifth wheels, that Douglas opened up in a way that made Emesh’s heart soar.
The knowledgeable trucker filled the god in on everything.
Douglas showed him legs that cranked up, plugs for lights, plugs for electronics, and even a huge plug for brakes. The god took careful note of it all, determined to be of use the next time a trailer needed to be hooked up.
“…and that’s it,” Douglas finally declared, wiping his hands together in the universal sign of a job well done. They made one final walk around the completed rig, which after attaching the fifty-three-foot box, could officially be called a tractor-trailer. Emesh thrilled at the relaxed smile he received.
“You’ve done a good job acting like you’re interested,” Douglas smirked. “This has to be boring as hell after working, what…covert operations? Is that what you and your friends do?”
Emesh tried to hide his nervousness, asked directly about his vocation. One didn’t just come out and say he and his friends were gods…and in specific, him the god of summer. How quickly would Douglas have him straightjacketed if Emesh waved a hand around at the blossoming trees and said, “I’m responsible for all this?” But still, he didn’t want to outright lie.
“I can’t tell you, right now, what exactly we do.” Emesh looked Douglas directly in the eye. “Your sister knows and so does your mother. In time, I hope to be able to fill you in as well.”
“Fair enough,” Douglas indicated the cab. “Let’s go have breakfast.”
Emesh released a huge sigh. He didn’t have to explain anything yet.
Another forty-five minutes brought them to a small restaurant in West Stockbridge, Douglas raved about. As they entered, Emesh took in the sparse decor, but filled his nose, appreciatively, with the smells of coffee, eggs, and other home-cooked wonders. Here lay a heaping helping of heaven. But how would the locals react to two, very large, very black men entering their establishment?
“They’re used to truckers,” Douglas could have been reading his mind. “A lot of us are big-assed and rough around the edges. So, don’t worry. We’re no big deal.”
Confirming Douglas’ assurance, a cheerful, relaxed waitress―sixty-five-ish and comfortable in white nurse’s sneakers―handed them menus and poured coffee. “You boys know what you want?” she asked, taking a pencil from behind her ear.
“Hungry-man, scrambled, wheat, bacon.” Douglas didn’t even look down at the laminated page in his hands.
Apparently, the waitress understood his shorthand. She nodded, made a quick notation, and turned her head to Emesh who frantically looked things over while Douglas gave his order.
“Umm, how about the Belgian Waffles?” he asked.
“How about them, hon?” she asked, and when he didn’t respond, she quirked up a corner of her mouth. “Bacon? Sausage? Hash browns…home-fries?”
“Yes, please,” Emesh smiled widely.
“You want it all?” Now the lady outright grinned.
When he nodded, she wrote on her pad with those quick strokes again and added. “Don’t tell me. You’d like strawberries and whipped cream on those waffles, too. Am I right?”
Gods. Strawberries. He hoped his face didn’t look as dopey as it felt, but he’d gone a long time without fresh fruit. “Extra strawberries,” Emesh declared, and despite her age, the feisty waitress looked him up and down, obviously enjoying the view.
“Well, at least I don’t have to ask where you put it.” She made another mark on her page, snorted, and spun on her padded shoes, walking back to the kitchen.
“I thought I had a big appetite,” Douglas smirked as well and shook his head. “You’re not going to get sick in my tractor, are you?”
“No. That’s my brother Enlil’s problem…oh, and sometimes Marduk. Those two could never abide enclosed carts of any kind. I find I have a great appreciation for your vehicle.” In truth, Emesh had wondered―the first time he’d hoisted up into the cab―if he would have problems. Marduk could only ride in cars with the windows wide open, and Enlil had thrown up while on a plane to California.
“Enclosed carts? Seriously?”
Shit. Douglas called him on his peculiar choice of words and before Emesh could answer, went on a roll.
“And what’s with the names? Emesh and Enten. Now Enlil and Marduk. At least your friend Dorian has a name that’s kind of normal.”
Emesh searched for an explanation, but Douglas relieved him of the need.
“Don’t worry.” He held up a hand. “I get it. More secret-spy stuff. You guys all have code names, so you can’t be Googled.”
Emesh knew what Douglas would find if he internet searched him and his buddies. Maybe a partial truth would be good right about now.
“Yeah. We, uh, chose names of Mesopotamian gods. So, that’s what you’ll find if you look us up.”
Douglas nodded, accepting it. “So how many of you are there, and what are your other code names…or is that classified?”
“Nope. No secrets there. I can tell you who you’ll meet at the compound when you come li…visit,” Emesh quickly corrected his error. He’d almost said, ‘come live there.’
“Marduk is the head of our…agency,” he offered, “then there’s Anshar, Dagon, Enlil, Lahar, Dumuzi, Shamash, Ishkur, Ninurta, Kulla, and Absu. With Enten and me that makes an original thirteen. We’ve been…recruiting in the past year and have added a few guys with human names…”
“Human names,” Douglas interrupted, laughing. “I suppose that’s one way to put it.”
“Well, yeah,” Emesh agreed, sheepishly. “We’ve added Huxley, Jake, Dorian, Ken, and a group of six from the Rhine Valley headed by a guy named Waylon.”
Douglas looked a little perplexed. “So, there are,” he’d been counting on his fingers, “twenty-three of you. All males and somehow, my mother, my sister and that lady with the nasty-ass needle―Addie―live there too?”
Emesh loved the ladies at the compound and happily supplied their names.
“Oh, way more than them,” he chortled. “Many of my brothers have mated,” he delivered. “And the advent of new life among us this year has been a huge blessing. Marduk has joined with Tess and they have a young, Girin, born three months ago. Lenore and Holly, mated to Anshar and Dagon, are both due to have their young any day now, and of course, your sister is large with twins. Absu mated a woman named Charlie, who already has a daughter, Maity. She’s a total favorite at the compound.” Emesh tapped his lip. “Who haven’t I mentioned?” He commenced launching a new round of names when he stopped mid-list with the arrival of food to the table. Their waitress had employed the help of one of the kitchen staff to bring the large quantity ordered. One plate for Douglas…three for Emesh. After placing them, their server asked, tongue in cheek, “Anything else gentlemen?”
Emesh sent his gaze back and forth from his plates to Douglas’.
“Umm, I may need some toast,” he nodded, pointing. “Wheat would be fine.”
“You don’t want to see how all that settles, first?” The amused waitress crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Emesh, grinning.
“No. Toast will be good.” He understood her incredulity, but he couldn’t help it, he had years to make up. And he couldn’t wait. He picked up one of the plump, ripe strawberries and popped it into his mouth. His eyes closed. A groan escaped. The waitress raised her eyebrows.
“Geeze, handsome, you and the fruit need to get a room,” she giggled, walking away.
Douglas, mid-swallow of his coffee, aspirated, coughed, and nearly shot the beverage out of his nose. His eyes teared up as he tried to clear his airway.
“She has quite a way with words,” he finally rasped, laughing into his napkin. “And a good point.”
Emesh shrugged. He didn’t get the joke, but if Douglas liked it, that’s all that mattered. The god picked up his fork and dug in.
Ten minutes later, Emesh, with a clean plate, eyeballed the last of the uneaten bacon on Douglas’ plate. “You going to eat that?” he asked hopefully.
“Knock yourself out,” his companion said.
Filched.
By the time they settled back in the semi, Emesh groaned, full…and sleepy. Not having many winks of shut-eye the night before, combined with a sated belly had him drowsy in the nicest way. But having neglected talk for food, Emesh remembered he hadn’t finished listing the Blue Hills residents and continued cataloging.
“So, when the food arrived, I’d thought to give you a rundown of the household females. Are you still interested?”
“I am,” Douglas replied, “but I have to ask. You call the kids ‘young’ and you say ‘mated’ instead of married, and if I’m not mistaken, you also pull a huge, misogynistic error calling the women ‘females.’ You want to explain?”
Emesh grimaced, perplexed. What could he say? The language he used in no way denigrated anyone. Again, sticking close to the truth would be best.
“We all use those terms,” he offered, shrugging. “But we mean no disrespect to the ladies.” He conjured an almost fake shiver. “And if we did, a few of them would kick our asses, but good.”
Douglas looked to be rolling that one around. He clearly pondered two things—no one in this day and age used such terms, and what woman could best a man the size of Emesh?
“Okay. I’ll let it go for now,” Douglas assented. “But understand, I’m not buying it. Now tell me who else lives in this castle of yours.”
Emesh couldn’t help but grin. The Blue Hills home had recently filled to overflowing, and a castle would be nice.
“The rest of the ma…wives are Candy, Obedience, Anna, Vesca, and Dani-Lee, our resident doctor. Then there’s Angie who is Lenore’s mother.” He wouldn’t attempt explaining the Addie-May connection now that the witch looked as young as her granddaughter.
“Thirteen women,” Douglas proved quick at the math. “So, a bunch of you still aren’t married. Anybody besides you gay?” He kept his voice level, but a spike of jealousy hit Emesh square in the chest. He was the only god for Douglas, and the male better not look at any of the other brothers.
Emesh couldn’t squelch his sullen tone. “We have our suspicions that one of the Rhine Valley guys is, but he’s got his eye on an agent from our LA office.” Everyone had noticed Flick, the DEA agent, stand a little taller when the blue-man Scobalt came around. The household had placed bets on that outcome.
Douglas appeared satisfied and dropped his questioning. “Listen, we have a long ride ahead and you look beat. Why don’t you have a nap?” He jerked his head toward the back where couch cushions looked inviting.
Emesh didn’t argue…he yawned. “Awesome suggestion.” He unfastened his seatbelt and ducked into the back, suddenly and overwhelmingly exhausted. Invisible, he’d only mimicked the motions of sleeping, but maintaining a full, corporeal self again proved to be a lot of work. He settled back on the sofa and yanked a throw blanket over his shoulders.
“There’s a mall in Youngstown that has a Kohl’s. We’ll stop there before we get to Cleveland and get you some clothes,” Douglas called back.
Emesh mumbled his agreement before he conked out, done.
****
“Emesh,” the voice came as if from a great distance. “Hey. Wake up.”
The god rolled over in his snug cocoon, relishing the feeling of coming from a deep slumber. All things about embodied life were better than he remembered. The first waking stretch he took, the coming back to awareness as a boneless and blank canvas. All good. In his recent reality―without real sleep―invisible, noncorporeal gods never were never able to shut off their brains. Emesh had gotten used to it, but now that he experienced REM again? Shit. No contest. Blissful oblivion won hands down.
“We’re coming up to the mall I told you about, sleeping beauty,” Douglas prodded again. “Make yourself presentable.”
Emesh ran a tongue around the inside of his fuzzy mouth. Right. Morning breath. He remembered that too. Although it wasn’t morning anymore.
“What time is it?” His voice emerged dryly, and all of a sudden, he had an overwhelming need to piss.
“Almost five o’clock,” came the astonishing answer.
“I slept all day?”
“Yup. Even through a gas-up and a pit stop.”
“Speaking of which,” Emesh’s urge became…well, urgent. He swung his legs off the bunk.
“Wait another two minutes until I pull in. If you open the tall door behind my seat, you’ll see a head.” Emesh cracked open the door and took a peek. A small sink, shower, and a toilet all crammed into a closet-sized space made compact a whole new concept. Emesh smothered a laugh. The basics could be carried out in the tiny compartment, but there would be no shower scenes for him and Douglas, not in that miniscule stand-up.
The god squirmed by the time Douglas gave him the okay. He stumbled back and raised the toilet lid. The stream he let loose once again felt almost as good as an orgasm. Who would have thought a person could miss urinating? Emesh managed to keep his satisfied moans to himself this time. He zipped up, made quick use of one of the wrapped toothbrushes in the holder, and left the truck to join Douglas in the parking lot of the mall.
This would be a first for Emesh, at least visible. He’d made a few shopping trips with the goddesses to help pick out sexy underwear, but he’d never been where he could pick things up for himself, to touch and smell. He could easily get lost in the store upon store of items, but shit…they were on a timetable. He had to ask.
“How long to tonight’s destination?”
“About an hour and a half,” Douglas replied. “We’ll shop, then eat here before we move on. I’d like to get an early start in the morning, so I hope to be bunked down by 9:30 at the latest.”
“Works for me.” Emesh gave him a flashing smile. The god felt pretty confident he could assuage his shopping curiosity within the allotted time.
“Clothes first or food?” Douglas questioned as they strode through the doors.
Emesh’s stomach chose that moment to rumble.
“Right. Got it.” Douglas found and perused a mall directory, locating the food court to steer Emesh in that direction.
Poor Douglas. Emesh tried so hard to be good, but every store they passed held some wonder in the window that beckoned him. After the fifth detour, this time into an electronics boutique, Douglas finally called it.
“I don’t know what’s up with you, but last time I walked around Boston, I’m pretty sure they had malls all over the place.” He scrubbed a hand over his neck and gave Emesh a disparaging look. “I like shopping as much as the next person, but…actually, scrub that. I hate shopping. Can we go eat?”
Emesh did his best to look contrite. If it were up to him as good as food sounded, he’d skip it to touch and manipulate all the wonders on display, but his mate experienced hunger and his nurturing instincts kicked in. If they walked in a jungle, Emesh would kill a lion so his Chosen could eat. The mall should not be a challenge. He hurried his footsteps in the proper direction.
“I’m sorry, Douglas. It’s been a long time since I’ve…been out,” he prevaricated. “Our fema…women usually do the shopping.”
He had the urge to link his arm with Douglas’ as they walked to the food court. He’d seen a few other male couples in such public displays, but Emesh held back. He had no idea if Douglas liked him enough for that, or even if he did, would he be into the PDA that came so easily to others? Emesh scowled, damned frustrated. How did one go about building a relationship? The first of his five road trip days with Douglas quickly sped to an end, and he’d gotten no closer to making the male his Chosen than he had the previous day. Emesh could only hope the nearness of the sleeping arrangements in the cab would have them spooning again. An opportunity might just…arise. Emesh covered his inappropriate amusement as food choices were presented.
“Soft pretzels?” Douglas questioned.
Emesh’s mouth watered, and he nodded, happily.
More than an hour later, he’d sampled food from each and every kiosk. Eventually, Emesh settled back at their table, full and happy.
“God, I don’t know where you put it.” Douglas looked bemused at the amount of food Emesh consumed.
The god spontaneously jerked up his shirt and bared his flat, brown stomach. “I’ve never had a problem with metabolism,” he grinned, rubbing a large circle with his free hand.
Wait. Had he heard a hitch in Douglas’ breathing? Had the man’s eyes lingered a little long on his taut abs, and then…dropped lower? Emesh couldn’t be sure. He unfurled his shirt and stood, stretching, not ready to read anything into it.
“Shall we go?” He walked a little ahead of Douglas and put extra swing in his walk to push his mate’s limits. “This way to Kohls?” he asked, innocently, walking in the right direction. Douglas following a few feet behind.
“Yeah. You have it,” the quiver in his mate’s voice was apparent this time. Hot damn.
Once they located the men’s clothing section of the big department store, Emesh found several pairs of Levi’s in his size and headed for the dressing room. All the labeling―straight leg, relaxed fit, low rise―had him confused, but by grabbing one of each, he figured he’d be able to hone in on the right type.
He snagged a couple packs of boxer-briefs, some socks, and a few regular looking T’s before he headed into a curtained room. Douglas took up residence on a chair, just outside.
Finally, Emesh had an opportunity to plan. So far, so good getting Douglas to notice him. Now, how to go about ramping up the heat factor? He’d seen romance and flirting on TV all the time. How hard could it be? He looked down at his soft dick, nestled in briefs. Obviously, a lot harder if he wanted some attention.
Emesh pictured Douglas’ big hands reaching for his cock and imagined what those strong fingers would feel like, wrapped around his girth. Okay. Hard enough. Emesh stripped off his shirt and tried on the first pair of jeans. This pair was designated skinny, and Emesh almost wished he hadn’t gone for a semi-boner. His prick and balls were squeezed, vice-like.
He walked straight-legged out to where Douglas sat and did a stilted twirl. “I can’t feel my thighs,” the god admitted, damned uncomfortable with the shrink-wrap fit, but the planned bulge must have worked. A sheen appeared on Douglas’ dark skin as he gave his opinion.
“Yeah. Too tight,” he coughed as if to clear an obstruction. “Try the relaxed fit.”
Yup. No doubt about it. Douglas had definitely been eyeballing his package.
Emesh hobbled back into the dressing room and nearly called for help. Trying to peel the jeans down his legs proved painful, but he’d done it to himself. The relaxed fit tugged on easier, but Emesh didn’t think they enhanced his appeal. He poked out again.
“I could fit an extra human into these.” Emesh purposely plunged a hand inside the waistband and wiggled it in all the extra space around his ass and crotch.
This time Douglas didn’t speak. He shooed Emesh back into the dressing room with a hand gesture.
Emesh knew he proceeded on the right track.
The next pair he modeled were regular cut, low rise jeans that nicely hugged his ass and cradled his cock-stand and boys without mashing his scrotum into a pancake. Emesh wondered if Douglas would notice how the Levi’s cut down low and showed off the solid bones of his hips. He sure hoped so.
“What about these?” He emerged from the room and did a slow turn. Let Douglas get a good look. Unfair advantage to Emesh, he unleashed his god perceptions. Ah, yes. Pulse and respiration high. His mate was not unaffected.
“Uh, huh. Those are the ones,” Douglas became all gruff and raspy.
“Great,” he said saucily, pivoting once more, and offering up a keen view of his ass. “Can you bring the others back and get me two more pairs of these?” Emesh asked. He entered the dressing room and came out with the rejects. Passing them over, his fingers brushed Douglas’, and the charge that zapped between them blindsided Emesh. He quickly strove to douse the fire. Damn. Touching Douglas would send them both into a conflagration of epic proportions. And no doubt, Douglas noticed it too. The male shook out his fingers, grabbed the pants and ran.
Emesh watched him go. Gods, he loved the way Douglas moved.
Two shirts he picked were satisfactory, and after trying them both on, he shucked the new jeans to the floor, kicking them off. He bent over to retrieve his own pants and the curtain opened behind him. An indrawn breath told him who entered. Emesh swallowed. Douglas stood right behind him, staring directly at his cotton-clad ass.
The god straightened, slowly. Don’t scare him…don’t scare him.
Douglas didn’t move. Emesh turned, his eyes glued to his mate’s face.
That look. He’d seen it only once before, aimed at him. The exact expression he’d dreamed about for years. The one on that pool boy, long ago, and the one time he’d dared to unleash his inner needs. He’d kissed that male, and for his innocent infraction, he’d been forever banished from the Overworld. This look, if he could believe his eyes, outshone even the remembered one. And like that time, thousands of years before, Emesh couldn’t stop himself.
The god brought his hand up―like he’d wanted to do from the moment he met Douglas―and wrapped it in the dreads on one side of Douglas’ face. He threaded his fingers through and tugged…not to the point of pain, but in a way that let Douglas know he meant business. Emesh progressed slowly, hoping for a sign, and groaned when the tip of Douglas’ tongue came out to wet his bottom lip. The god pressured a little more, and his mate’s feet came inadvertently closer until their bodies were nearly touching.
Emesh coveted a taste of those lips and could wait no longer. He zeroed in on their pink softness and moving as if in a dream, he brushed the merest touch of his own over their lush invitation. He slid back, waiting for Douglas to protest or force him away. When it didn’t happen, he tightened his hand in his mate’s hair, this time harder and brought their lips together in a juxtaposed butterfly of pressure. Douglas stood pliant, almost stunned. Emesh took advantage.
The god’s free arm came up and snaked around Douglas’ clothed back, dragging the male up against him, and in one smooth move, he captured his mate’s mouth beneath his and let loose his torrent of need, moaning at the pressure and grinding his hardened cock into Douglas’ crotch.
Oh, gods. His mate surged, rigid too, and Emesh’s tongue sought anew.
When Douglas failed to open, Emesh stopped his tentative probing to draw back and nip at his mate’s lower lip. His partner’s resistance slipped; Douglas relaxed his lips…and without warning, the tables turned.
Douglas thrust Emesh back against the wall, and his insistent tongue plunged into the god’s mouth, dueling for the upper hand. Could anything be hotter? His Chosen grabbed control.
Douglas’ hands came up to hold Emesh’s head immobile while he crushed their mouths together in a dance of supremacy. Emesh gave in with a whimper. He softened, then he growled, and took. Which one proved needier, which dominant? Every thrust, every give and take felt so good…so right.
The god’s erection lay thick and hard on his belly, crying to be touched. But Emesh didn’t know how to proceed. He’d never gone farther than a kiss. But he trusted Douglas had the experience to lead them.
Acting instinctively, Emesh lowered his hands to his mate’s ass and leveraged a stiff cock forward to crush into the V of his boxer-clad pelvis. The pressure burned, unlike anything he’d experienced before. His dick stretched, so hard he became almost afraid. Would he orgasm, right here and now? He climbed, he reached, he… No. Douglas wrenched back.
Emesh’s eyes came back into focus at the severed contact. His mate spun across the dressing room and stood as far away as possible in the small space. Emesh heat dissipated in a rush of despair. Douglas scrubbed his hand across his mouth, disgusted, a look of, hell no all over his face. Emesh nearly cried out. His own heart opened, pouring out a flood of want, need…and yes, love to his mate, yet Douglas continued to retreat, pulling even farther away.
“Douglas…”
“Stop.” Douglas held out a hand and turned venom-filled eyes to Emesh. “Don’t come any closer.” He straightened his back with effort, loathing oozing from every pore. “Get your clothes. I’ll be in the truck.” He turned and fled without explanation.
Emesh sunk in upon himself. Oh, gods. Had Emesh read the signs wrong? But hadn’t Douglas been sporting a hard-on more rigid than a railroad spike? Didn’t that mean anything? Emesh made a small, distressed cry in his throat. Maybe it didn’t. Hell, most gay males could sport a woody while ogling a Calvin Klein commercial. He could have ruined everything. Emesh wanted to cry. Please let him not have screwed up.
That kiss…that kiss had been Emesh’s undoing. He’d had only one small, secretive fumbling before, but his world had never rocked with it. One touch of Douglas’ lips and he’d forgotten his own name.
Mortified heat unleashed in the small dressing room, and Emesh couldn’t stop it. He laughed hysterically. Let it get hot. He couldn’t control himself but screw it. Let the humans handle it for once. They’d call the heat and A/C specialists, and eventually, once he left the store, they’d think it was fixed.
In the meantime, he remained stuck on fryolator until calming…breathing deeply to cool his core down. Time to get dressed and head back to the rig. The way Douglas acted, he might leave him behind, and Emesh’s heart rent at the possibility. He needed to get moving. Stepping into his own jeans, he’d just snaked them up his legs when he began to mist out.
Nooo. Had Douglas left him?
Get a grip, the god told himself. He’d gotten so used to being corporeal, he’d forgotten the hundred-yard rule. Invisibility didn’t mean Douglas had driven away. It just meant he’d gone past that limit.
Emesh finished up, invisible. Now, he’d have to acquire his clothing and plant money surreptitiously in the register before leaving the store. At least, those logistics would keep his mind busy. He dashed away invisible tears. What would he say when he had to confront Douglas?