Chapter Eight
Douglas remained on guard. He rifled through the refrigerator and heated up the iron skillet on the gas stove, all while keeping a sharp eye on his guest. How had he so easily agreed to host Emesh? The presence of the man who walked around the room, admiring every piece of home-made furniture, running a loving hand over the surface of the rough-hewn log walls as if he’d never seen anything so beautiful, stymied him. Things had happened damned fast. One minute, Douglas’ life ran along as it had for several uneventful years…and then it didn’t.
Douglas shifted uneasily. He couldn’t tell what his feelings were toward Emesh. No. Ditch that. He knew exactly, and he didn’t like it. He’d been hit by an itch…one he’d always been uncomfortable scratching, but he couldn’t act on it with Emesh. It was one thing to pick up an anonymous male while on the road, one who could be counted on for some fast and nameless sex, but entirely another to feel a tightening in his groin for the stunningly handsome man who, at this very moment, stood in his home.
He had to get a grip. He couldn’t go there. Emesh was friends with his mother and his sister and also scared him a little; a powerful male just as large and strong as himself. If things got out control, if Douglas started to feel threatened, it might not be easy to fight loose from someone that big. He might have a hell of a battle on his hands…one he might not be able to win. Nope. Sure as hell not going there.
It had been a very long time since Douglas had trusted anyone besides Dr. Jacobsen. And he wasn’t ready to go outside his hard-won comfort zone, affording the same plaudits to Emesh.
The male he examined closely, packed lusciously into a pair of faded, tight jeans, had alternately been charming in nature―a side which he’d certainly shown to Douglas―and lethal, ready to strike when Douglas had been threatened by Dr. Trask. There lay the juxtaposition which bothered Douglas. When Emesh had gone all virile and growly, as terrified as Douglas had been at the unfolding situation, the man had triggered some primal response in him. That, in itself, was fucking weird. Douglas always made sure to be the dominant force when ‘coupling up.’ He’d never been attracted to aggressive males…for good reason.
But Emesh struck him as different. Not that he believed for a minute the limp-wrist shit Emesh had pulled with Trask…but still. When he hadn’t been all up and aggressive in the doctor’s face, the guy’s nature seemed downright sunny. Douglas had never met anyone who almost...glowed with good will. The male was an amazing antithesis to his twin, Enten, who clearly needed to warm the hell up. Douglas wondered how Glory dealt with his brother-in-law. Wow. To admit he had a new relative boggled his mind.
“Do you like corned beef hash?” Douglas broke the silence which had been surprisingly comfortable despite his dark musings. He caught his breath as Emesh turned and faced him with warm, dark eyes practically aglow.
“What’s corned beef hash?” Emesh asked, coming to stand on the other side of the peninsula where Douglas cooked.
Douglas bit back a quick retort. The innocent, shining face of his companion across the stove made him realize Emesh didn’t kid. He truly didn’t know.
“Ground up corned beef with potatoes and onions. You add some spices, then cook it hard until the outside gets crispy,” he informed, somewhat incredulously.
“Ooh. Like Tahdig, but with potatoes instead of rice.” The prospect clearly had Emesh excited although Douglas had no idea what the hell Tahdig was. Where did Emesh hale from, originally? Every now and then, Douglas caught an inflection in his voice that didn’t sound American.
“Where were you born?” Douglas asked while putting potatoes in the microwave. He’d already cut up onions, throwing them into the butter spitting in the pan.
“Mesopotamia.” Emesh leaned over and inhaled the savory aroma as they hit the fat. “Gods, they smell so good.”
Douglas’ visage nearly blanked. He didn’t know what to address first. The orgasmic look on Emesh’s face over some fucking onions or the Mesopotamian hard-ball he’d been thrown. And had Emesh said ‘gods’? Did the guy practice some kind of weird ancient religion?
“Uh, Mesopotamia. As in the cradle of civilization Mesopotamia?” Douglas chose the tough pitch. He remembered some of his high school history lessons, but he’d never imagined that arcane bit of knowledge would ever come in handy.
Emesh’s face looked mildly panicked as he drew it away from the pan.
“Oh. Sometimes I use the old-world term,” he clearly scrambled. “I meant to say Kuwait.” Emesh shrugged before not-so-deftly changing the subject. “So, corned beef,” he snagged a piece over the counter and popped it in his mouth, contriving to smile widely. “Salt-cured beef,” he announced. “I remember this. Kind of like what we ate on the ship, or in winter when fresh provisions were low.”
There. Douglas pursed his lips Emesh had done it again. His whole take on reality bordered on odd. Douglas could either call him on it or having had a mind-fuck of a day already, let it go. He decided to drop it. They’d have plenty of time for Q&A during their seventeen-hour drive to Wisconsin. Right now, he just wanted to eat, watch a little TV, and go to bed.
“While I finish supper, why don’t you get some sheets out of the closet over there,” he gestured with his knife, “and make up the bed in the guest room.” He pointed again, this time at one of three doors that led off the big, main room.
“What are the other two rooms?” Emesh questioned.
“My room,” Douglas inclined his head to the far door, “and the bathroom.”
When Emesh’s eyes widened, and a look crossed his face somewhere between awe and ecstasy, Douglas was done. He didn’t want to know.
“I think I need to use the bathroom,” Emesh voice emerged breathlessly.
He thinks? He doesn’t know? Douglas wondered what the hell? Deviant bathroom habits? Damned if Emesh didn’t look expectant about a trip to the john…like something amazing would happen in there. What the hell? They were talking ‘bathroom’ for fuck sake. Wait a minute. Emesh could be one of those guys who got off on rifling through other people’s toiletries.
Douglas almost chuckled at the answer which became apparent. Well, the guy would be damned disappointed. Douglas had toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, and soap. No gels, aftershaves, or creams―unless you counted the lube in Douglas’ bedside table he used to ease a hand-job―but Emesh wouldn’t find that. Douglas gestured to the door in question with a sound of disgust. Emesh didn’t notice, his feet were already headed that way.
The cabin being small, Douglas heard the first stream of piss hit the toilet through the closed door,. Not unusual. What was really upsetting? Emesh’s full, bliss-laden laughter that filled the room, accompanying the pee. Totally fucked up. Try as he might—Emesh remained behind the closed door far longer than your normal piss—Douglas couldn’t work the skeeve factor out of his head.
Emesh emerged from the bathroom looking sheepish. “I’m, um, sorry about that. I just had a benign growth removed from my prostate,” he explained. “It still thrills me that I can pee so heartily.” The man had the most telling blush.
Douglas supposed the explanation made sense. Another thing he’d let go for now but file away for examination later. Far easier not to own any of this guy’s crazy shit.
Emesh must have understood. He ducked his head, awkwardly. “Uh, I’ll go make up my bed now.” Emesh grabbed a pile of sheets from the closet and headed into the guest room.
Douglas continued cooking and heaved a sigh. It was tough enough coming to grips with having someone in his house, but Emesh brought discomfort to a whole new level. Hot body, warm personality, but some very strange habits, with even stranger shit coming from his mouth. Douglas grunted. Could that be how Kate and Emesh had met, sharing a wing at some mental facility?
Douglas dished the now cooked hash onto two plates and announced supper.
“Time to eat. Food’s hot,” he called.
****
Emesh dawdled before emerging from the guest room. What a fucking idiot, he berated himself. Bad enough he’d made that slip about Mesopotamia, but to laugh out loud when he’d had his first pee in centuries? Okay. Totally understandable from a god’s point of view but having to head-connect back to Dr. Dani at the compound for a reasonable excuse had been beyond mortifying. She’d been with her husband Huxley, Anshar the interminable jokester, and Enlil the god of wind who never let anything slip by. They’d all had an uproarious laugh over his impropriety before taking pity and giving him the prostate excuse. But Emesh could tell Douglas didn’t like it.
What other fuck-ups had he made? The corned-beef hash thing had to have been pretty telling. Who talks about food being scarce in the winter? Hello. Grocery stores. He would have to play it ultra-cool from now on; ridiculously tough, because besides coffee, tea, a taste of the corned beef, and those awful discount store cookies, Emesh hadn’t eaten in over four hundred years. His mouth watered smelling the food from the kitchen. It would be a test of his acting skills not to…well, over-react.
“Smells good,” he managed to say in a normal voice when he emerged into the main room. Douglas put both plates on a small table tucked next to a group of windows that looked out over his treed lot. Dusk had fallen, and Emesh could make out the figures of Absu and Ninurta prowling around, but he didn’t worry Douglas would freak. The pair remained invisible. He sent them a quick message to blow off his excitement without looking like an idiot in front of his mate.
I’m going to eat, he exclaimed sitting down and picking up a utensil to shovel the first bite into his mouth. Oh my gods, it’s taking everything I’ve got not to drool around my fork. Corned beef hash, he informed them. My new favorite food.
Wait until you once again grace my table. Absu, the god who had never lost his early-English cadence, cooked like a chef extraordinaire. I’ll serve you a dish that will make your palate cry.
Thanks, Absu. Emesh didn’t think anything could rival this, his very first meal with his Chosen, but how nice of the god of sweet water to offer. I look forward to it. He cut his connection. Emesh didn’t want to look like he talked to himself; a nice way to compound the cluster of mistakes he’d made already with Douglas. Nope. Time to lighten up, get normal, and compliment the cook.
“The food is marvelous, Douglas.” Emesh took an enormous bite and chewed.
Gods, he liked saying the human’s name. He wanted to retire to his room, so he could whisper it in the dark. And speaking of dark, he realized, for the first time in centuries, some self-gratification had been put back within his grasp. Emesh stifled a snicker. Pun intended. He got hard just thinking about it. To be able to fist his throbbing sex and think of Douglas? Damn. He wouldn’t get a wink of sleep tonight. Emesh’s heat inadvertently ramped up and in response, a trickle of sweat edged down Douglas’ temple.
“I must have been heavy handed on the spices.” Douglas used a napkin to wipe away the small drop of moisture. And a good thing, too. Emesh had been fantasizing about licking it away with his tongue. Probably not the best strategy to slowly woo one’s mate. Emesh forcibly toned his mood down to a soothing warmth. Maybe small talk would ease his sexual discomfort.
“So how long have you lived here?” Emesh knew some of Douglas’ history but not much.
“Four years.” His companion forked hash into his mouth. “Dr. Jacobsen had me out of the institution and hidden for about six years at various safe-houses before he deemed it safe for me to start my life here.” Now his fork twisted and fussed at the food remaining on his plate. “The doctor owned this piece of land and told me I could build myself a home.” Douglas warmed to his subject.
“I’d always been proficient at wood-shop in school. I did several of those Habitat for Humanity projects and had a really good idea how to proceed. I got books and online tutorials about log cabin construction, and after cutting and stumping this clearing, I poured my whole slab by hand and started building.” His eyes traveled around the inside of the structure, clearly proud.
“It took me more than a year, but by using materials from the surrounding woods, begging cast-offs from rehab projects in town, and buying secondhand, I built, plumbed, and wired the whole place.” He pointed. “The stove and dishwasher came from a restaurant that had closed down in Northampton. The toilet and sink in the bathroom came from the swap area at the local dump.” He stopped, looking like he’d said too much. “You get the picture,” he wound down and played with his food some more.
“No, please.” Emesh thrilled to it all, astounded at the talent and ingenuity of his new mate. “Continue. Where did you get all the wood?”
“Most of it came from the trees I cut down, right here on site,” he said, proudly. “That’s why they’re rough. I cut them down, stripped and dried them, then used them for the walls.” He pointed to the beamed ceiling above. “I bartered the milling of the other lumber with a neighbor who has the appropriate equipment. I gave him hours, he gave me finished boards. A good trade,” he grunted.
“One of my friends who lives at the compound is an architect,” Emesh responded enthusiastically. “I’ve helped work on jobs for him…”
The evening progressed comfortably, with Emesh asking questions and Douglas happily supplying answers. Emesh looked back gratefully to his experiences with Kulla, the divine architect. It made him sound knowledgeable and proved his interest was not just superficial. By the time they’d finished eating and cleaning up―which they did easily, side by side as if they’d been doing it for years―it had grown late. Douglas acted surprised.
“Huh. I figured we’d watch a little TV before bed, but time slipped by. We need to be out of here tomorrow morning before dawn. It’s a good idea to turn in now.”
He stalked around the room, turning off the few lights Emesh now understood were run by a generator.
“I’ll set my clock for 4:30. We need to be out of here by 5:15.” He blinked at Emesh. “Do you need to borrow anything? Pajamas, a toothbrush?”
A newly accustomed blush rose within Emesh. “I sleep in my underwear,” he told the lie. In ancient times he had always slept in the buff, but Douglas didn’t need that picture in his head. “I could use a toothbrush if you have one and an extra pair of briefs for the morning. The jeans and t-shirt will do for one more day until we can hit a Walmart and pick up a few spare pieces of clothing.”
“You’ll find a toothbrush in the closet where you got the sheets and a new stick of deodorant. Feel free to use my soap and shampoo.”
“Thanks, Douglas.” There. It happened again. That excitement saying his mate’s name. Emesh really liked it.
“Well. Good night.” Douglas shuffled his hands ineffectually by his sides as if he didn’t know quite what to do, then spun on his heel and fled toward his room. “You can use the bathroom first,” he said, closing the door abruptly behind him, opening it again to hand Emesh a pair of boxers, before slamming it shut with finality.
Emesh sighed and rummaged for the things Douglas had offered, then quickly used the bathroom. He’d take a shower in the morning. Right now, he wanted to lay on soft sheets and stare at the ceiling, feel the sleek skin of his long-neglected penis, and imagine Douglas lying next to him; a dream if he could figure it all out, might possibly become true. No. It had to come true. The lives of all his friends depended upon him finding and mating his Chosen. But now that the possibility had come to him, Emesh trembled, scared out of his god-loving mind.
The tension in his body eased the minute he slipped into bed. Even more so when he wrapped his hand around his willing flesh. He smiled as he commenced a familiar rhythm. Huh. Apparently, there were things one never forgot. Emesh, hard and ready, wouldn’t take long.
He slipped into fantasy…
Douglas’ large dark hand moved across Emesh’s belly to stroke his dusky cock. He gripped firmly. Douglas’ breath in his ear ramped up his excitement, and one large thumb, sweeping over the tip of his cock sent him right to the edge. His mate set an enticing rhythm and Emesh’s breath caught. He saw stars. A surge erupted from his belly, up through his balls, and for the first time in hundreds of years, he came. And came. Hard and fast, he jetted his release all over his belly and hand.
The pulsations continued endlessly, his seed hot where it landed. Ahh. He’d forgotten that bit. His ejaculate emerged like droplets of sunshine, and if careless, could be fiery enough to burn. If he ever did do anything with Douglas, he’d have to remember that. Emesh used his briefs to clean himself up. It’s a good thing Douglas had given him new ones to wear. These would be distinctly unusable by morning.
After his successful orgasm, the god eventually drifted off to sleep, happy and sated. He wandered in the middle of a lovely dream where he convinced Douglas to kiss him when he was awakened by a horrible, loud noise. His eyes popped open and he launched to his feet before he could even think.
Douglas.
Had someone gotten by the outside gods and come for his mate? Emesh wrenched open his door and rushed from his room. The noises continued, unabated, and the god wasted no time yanking the master bedroom door open to leap inside. His pulse turned down a notch when he realized Douglas lay alone in bed, tangled in sheets that wound around his legs, pinning him in place. Horrible sounds of pain and terror emerged from his throat.
Emesh immediately suffused the room with a succoring warmth.
“Douglas,” he whispered, leaning down over the struggling form of the human. “Douglas. It’s okay. You’re having a bad dream.”
Emesh tried a mind hook-up, hoping to reach Douglas on a more primal level. Calm down. All is well. There’s no one here to hurt you.
Nothing worked. The dream continued to hold Douglas in its evil grip. Emesh would have to wake him up. But he feared one of them might get hurt. The distraught male didn’t look like he’d emerge from sleep peacefully.
“Here goes nothing.” Emesh sidled close again and snaked a hand out to touch Douglas’ shoulder. “Wake up,” he gently shook him. Hard fingers shot up and grabbed Emesh by the throat, dragging him onto the bed and flipping him over on his back.
Emesh blinked. Two hundred and some odd pounds of Douglas now straddled his prone body and attempted to squeeze the life out of him. Good thing Emesh was immortal. There would be bruises left behind from the man’s grip that would last an hour or so, but at least he didn’t actually need to breathe. Talking, however? A different story. No way could he get a syllable out through his constricted airway. He’d have to attempt head communication again.
Douglas. Let go. It’s Emesh. You’re dreaming.
Pressure lessened at his neck.
Open your eyes, Douglas. You’re at home. You’re safe in your own bed, and I won’t let anything harm you.
Miraculously the grip slowly left his throat. Douglas hauled himself up and sat back on his heels, still covering Emesh’s body with his own. Under different circumstances, Emesh, realizing he remained completely naked, speculated he might enjoy the contact. But dammit, a terrified partner didn’t act as much of a turn-on.
“That’s it, Douglas,” Emesh rasped. His vocal chords would need time to right themselves. “Now, open your eyes. There’s nothing here that can hurt you.”
If Douglas had not snapped out of his trance, Emesh would have had no problem subduing the male, but he didn’t want to use force on his spooked mate.
Douglas slowly came back to awareness. Sounds of distress worked their way up his throat. When he realized a nude Emesh lay underneath him, he leaped up and nearly fell, tangling again in the sheets.
“What the hell?” his voice came shrilly. He righted himself and grappled away, shoving his back to one wall.
Emesh sat up, slowly.
“You were having a bad dream.” The god kept his voice low and melodic, matching his tone to the heat he sent out toward the quaking male. “I came in to wake you, and…”
Now Douglas looked appalled. He held up and gazed at his hands, hands that had been wrapped around Emesh’s throat. “…and I attacked you.” His voice held fear and remorse. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”
“It’s okay,” Emesh comforted. “I understand. Remind me to tell you about my nightmares sometime. I have doozies.” Emesh’s time spent in the Underworld with the rest of the gods had been filled with pain and demons on a daily basis, but Emesh didn’t downplay Douglas’ night terrors. He had a feeling his mate’s experiences might have been worse. At least Emesh had been able to fight his demons while armed and standing on his own two feet.
Emesh slowly brought himself up from the mattress, dragging the bottom sheet from the bed and fashioning it around his loins, toga style. He stepped to where Douglas cradled his head in his hands. The god slowly unwound the still restricting sheet from his mate, and carefully as if reaching for a newborn, softly twined his arms around Douglas. When this didn’t cause panic, Emesh stroked Douglas’ large, trembling back with long, soothing strokes.
“It’s okay,” Emesh breathed, taking in the woodsy scent he’d come to associate with his mate. “I’m here, and nothing’s going to get you.” The body against his slowly relaxed, but instead of sinking farther into Emesh’s embrace, with a final, deep breath, Douglas eased out of Emesh’s arms.
The vulnerable mortal twisted his hands in front of him.
“I’m good now. Thanks,” his words ground out quietly. “It must have been seeing Trask again after all these years that set me off. I haven’t had a nightmare in a long time.”
“It’s understandable,” Emesh responded, in an equally quiet voice. “It’s been eons since my own trauma, but it still comes back to haunt me when I least expect it.”
Douglas looked at him as if he would ask about Emesh’s past, but he must have seen the irrefutable dismissal in Emesh’s face. He turned his gaze to the bed, instead and clenched his jaw. Emesh could tell he remained nervous about sleeping again…at least alone.
Douglas confirmed that, sending out a chirpy suggestion. “So, what do you think? Would you like a nightcap with me before we try to get,” he glanced at the clock across the room, “two more hours of sleep?”
“Listen,” Emesh attempted, knowing what Douglas really needed. “We don’t know each other that well, but I have this, uh, tantric ability to make people relax. You’ve felt it.” He could see Douglas’ face soften in acknowledgment. “So, how about we lay back down, and I’ll make sure you don’t have any more nightmares.”
Emesh held his breath. Would Douglas trust him with this? He could feel the indecision coming off the huge male but kept his mouth shut. He wouldn’t influence Douglas one way or another.
“Okay,” the reply came small and uncertain. Emesh’s heart clenched.
“Trust me, Douglas,” he intoned gingerly, reaching out a hand.
When Douglas put cold fingers into Emesh’s warm grasp, he was done for. He’d known it before, but now it became a certainty. Douglas was his true mate. He wanted to be with him for the rest of eternity, to love him and keep him safe. Emesh marveled that his amulet didn’t burn with fire, but he understood sometimes it took a while.
He drew Douglas to the bed. Right now, he had a Chosen to comfort.