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Hot Shots

A Dragon Tale

Tara Bennett
Copyright © 2023 by Tara Bennett

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical
methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Tara Bennett,
tarabwrites@yahoo.com
This is a work of fiction, and all actual trademarks are used in a fictitious manner. No authorization, association, or sponsorship by trademark owners should be implied. The
story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and
products is intended or should be inferred.
 I want to thank the people who really supported
me through this. They never teased me about it being a
romance (not to mention a MM romance).
You gave me support full stop. I can't begin
to tell you how very much that means to me.

James, you are my person. I love you so much.

Samantha and Greg, I love you both.
MrSparkle
Morgona
Bansidhewail
and all people in the Romance Writers discord you
have been unbelievable.
You are all found family, and I wouldn't trade any of you.

Thank you. Each of you made a difference.

Contents

1. River
2. Aaron
3. River
4. Aaron
5. River
6. Aaron
7. River
8. Aaron
9. River
10. Aaron
11. River
12. Aaron
13. River
14. Aaron
15. River
16. Aaron
17. River
18. Aaron
19. River
20. Aaron
21. River
22. Aaron
23. River
24. Aaron
25. River
26. Aaron
27. River
28. Aaron
29. River
30. Aaron
31. River
32. Aaron
33. River
34. Aaron
35. River
36. Aaron
37. Aaron
38. Aaron
39. River
40. Aaron
41. River
42. Aaron
43. River
44. Aaron
45. Epilogue - River
46. Epilogue - Aaron
Chapter
Chapter One

River

I reminded myself that this was something I wanted.

Looking across the room at eyes that were the color of whiskey, I wondered if I had made a terrible mistake. Was I willing to
pay for it if I had?
I huffed and threw myself back against the cushions. Cocking the smooth head, it looked like he was questioning me.
“So, what are we going to do now?” I said. “Are you ready to get to know each other, Charlie?”
I hoped he would answer, but I knew he would sit there and look at me. It was up to me to move and start this relationship. I
had no desire to lose the five million dollars it would cost me if we didn’t work out.
I picked up the half-inch stack of papers with all the legal information about our union. It covered things like housing
requirements, exercise equipment, and diet. I paid ten percent of the ‘membership fee’ to have Charlie come live with me as my
companion.

***

Acquiring my dragon started when my phone rang at 7 a.m. Sunday morning. “Mr. Barallo, we need you downtown tomorrow
morning.”
“Who is this?” I couldn’t imagine who was making demands of me at this hour.
“This is Marcus Benedict from the club. We expect you to bring full payment. Be there no later than 9 a.m. However, we
would prefer you to be there by 8 a.m.” I blinked, trying to wake up and understand the instructions. Oh shit, this was ‘THE’
club calling me.
“Yes, sir.” He had an English accent and held my future in his hand. “I’ll be there at 8 a.m. if that's acceptable, Mr.
Benedict.” I put together my best professional tone, hoping he approved of me.
Once I was off the phone, I couldn't contain my excitement, so I tumbled out of bed and started getting everything ready to
have my companion move in. I’ve always been alone, but now I am making a lifetime commitment. I looked forward to my
world changing dramatically.
I called Cecelia. “Hello, my most favorite person.” I knew sucking up to her would do me no good, but she would appreciate
the effort. “I have a huge favor to ask you. Can you come over and do a quick cleaning? Please, please. You are the most
glorious assistant a man could ever want. Plus, I’m your favorite nephew.”
“You realize it’s Sunday? I have sauce on the stove for dinner.” I knew she would help, but a little incentive never hurts.
“How about I get you that Sun Harvest wine you like? And your sons are there to watch the sauce.” She snorted at me.
“How many bottles of wine?” Her negotiating with me meant she had given up the fight. The wine we liked was from a local
vineyard and was some of the best I’d ever had. Buying a case of it and then giving her some bottles was not a hardship, and I
will have some bottles available for future bribes.
“I’ll give you four bottles if you clean the house and pick up a few groceries.” She grumbled some more.
“Fine.” I am so lucky to have her keeping my life organized. I don’t know what I’d do if I had to manage independently.
“Thank you. Thank you. I won’t be making it over for dinner tonight.” I didn’t like missing family meals; my Italian family
got together every Sunday. I hated it when it was necessary to skip going, but I wanted to be at my best tomorrow morning.
“You know there better be a good reason. We all like to see you.” Her voice was deadpan, and even though I knew she was
teasing, I felt I needed to defend myself.
“Something significant has come up, Aunt C. I’ll work strictly from home next week. Will you rearrange my schedule to
accommodate that?”
“I will reschedule your face-to-face meetings to online meetings. You have some contracts that must have signatures by
Friday; otherwise, you should be able to handle everything from your home office.” I could hear her moving around the kitchen
while she handled my business.
“I’ll make sure the contracts are signed.”
“Have you heard that Billy Abrams fired his agent? You should get on that.” It was hard to tell if she meant for business or
pleasure. Billy was one of the few openly gay race car drivers, and she was always trying to set up her nephew.
I was laughing at her phrasing. “That sounded inappropriate, Aunt C. I’ll be available if you need me. Can you get a meeting
with Billy for me?” Knowing her, she would try to make it more than just a business meeting.
“I’ll handle it first thing Monday. You have a fun time with your ‘something special.’” She hung up, chuckling before I could
respond. Cecelia always thought I had a guy in my bed. Little did she know it’s been me and my hand for the last several years.
I never bothered to correct her since her version of me sounded much more exciting.
I then called Warren. “I need you to get me a five hundred-thousand-dollar cashier’s check before the end of the day.”
“You realize it's Sunday, right?” He grumbled.
“Yes, I do. I pay you for those times when I need considerable money on a Sunday.”
“I’ll have your money for you by 5 p.m.” Before calling, I knew I would get the money, but it was still a relief.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate you working on a Sunday for me.”
“Wait to thank me until after you see my bill.” He hung up.

***

At 6 a.m., I was up and ready to head downtown. On my way, I got a giant coffee with a quad shot of espresso. The extra
caffeine was probably a poor decision since I was already jumpy. I arrived at 7:45 a.m., ready to meet my new companion.
I whispered before walking in, “I am prepared, capable, and excited about this opportunity.” I put on my business face as I
approached the front doors. Before entering, I looked at myself in the window, a habit established years ago when I was cold-
calling athletes. Blessed with traditional Italian genes, I was handsome, with short dark hair. My body was in shape and tall.
Many women wanted to be with me, and turning them down made me feel bad. I didn't know how to tell them that a man with
broad shoulders and a tight ass would be my preference. I wasn’t exactly finding that man, so getting a companion would fill
that void I refused to admit existed.
The agency I worked with was the intermediary for the club. Application fees and membership alone was millions of
dollars. They had members of all financial levels, but if you weren’t from a legacy family, you had to be rich and use the
agency.
Two people were waiting when I arrived. “Hey.” Awkwardly, I raised my hand at them. Someone entered the area where we
were waiting and called my name. Swallowing hard, I willed my heart to stop racing. Passing out right now would not make a
good impression.
When I entered, they handed me an enormous stack of papers. I looked around furtively, hoping to see my companion. I saw
two board members, one whose name I knew was Jason, chatting with each other in the corner. It took about ten minutes to fill
out the paperwork, and as soon as I finished, I returned it to the person who gave it to me.
Waiting as patiently as possible, I finally saw a woman walk through one of the two large doors in the back of the room. She
was carrying my beautiful new friend on her arm. I was not an expert on dragons, but he was gorgeous. I looked around the
room to ensure this wasn’t a joke. “He’s coming home with me?” I pointed at the dragon the woman was holding.
She patiently smiled at me. “Yes, this beautiful boy is. Congratulations! I hope the two of you are happy together.” Unable to
help myself, I grinned ridiculously. He was sitting on his haunches with his wings settled on his back. Currently, he was about
seven inches tall, but I knew he would get to be about twelve inches. Most of his scales were bright red except for his stomach
and the soft skin of his wings, which were closer to pink. He had thick thighs and smaller upper arms. He was perfect.
Excitement filled me as she put him in the crate and handed it to me. I was awestruck; he had already stolen my heart. I knew
it was silly, but I wondered what he was thinking. Wanting to be liked, I hoped we would get along and have a happy life
together.
On the way home, I named him Charlie. I wasn’t sure why I picked that name, but it seemed to fit him. Once we were back at
my apartment, I threw myself on the couch, hoping I had made the right decision. He cocked his head at me, probably more
curious about me than I was about him. “What do you want, fella?” I had read all the guides, but it wasn't the same as having a
dragon sitting right before you with needs. The mentor that got assigned to us will be here sometime today.
I took him out of the crate and began petting him. I marveled at how he felt smooth, the scales almost soft. There was tension
as if he feared me. He had to be disoriented. I took him from everything he knew. I am sure he didn’t understand what was
happening. Charlie then arrives at an unfamiliar house with someone he has never seen staring at him. I moved my hand slowly,
letting him get used to being touched, wanting him not to fear me.
Charlie looked up at me. “You have the biggest, most beautiful eyes.” He blinked. Reaching out, I pet him some more,
moving along the side of his jaw and neck. He leaned into my touch, and I stroked him slowly while waiting for him to get used
to my smell and the feeling of my hands.
 “We are going to be okay, aren’t we?” I whispered. The tension released as he leaned towards me.
“You are gorgeous, you know that? I’m never going to tire of looking at you.” His head cocked again, and I swear I saw him
smile. I doubted I could read him, but I thought I could.
Before we went any further, I decided to get him water and snacks. Cecelia had stopped by yesterday afternoon to run the
vacuum and wipe things down. In the kitchen, there was a blueberry pie on the counter. I suspected she had brought the pie,
assuming I had a houseguest coming over. Even though she gave me a tough time, I knew she loved me like a son. I found
grapes in the fridge, cut them in half, then put them on a small plate. I then filled a glass with filtered water.
I placed everything on the coffee table and knelt before the chair, ensuring I was comfortable.
“I am the best in my business and can do anything I want.” Raising and training Charlie can’t be more complicated than
convincing a big-name cosmetics company that a woman wrestler would be a good spokesperson. Pep talks to have been a big
part of my life, mind over matter. Being faced with this new challenge, I knew it was one I could master and would enjoy even
though I was now responsible for keeping Charlie alive.
Charlie was looking at me, probably wondering what I was saying. “It’s okay, Charlie. I am just trying to get this right.”
Slowly, I pulled him onto my lap, sitting rather awkwardly between the coffee table and the chair. He didn’t mind and looked at
me expectantly. I grabbed a grape and held it to his mouth. He took a small bite and then ate the rest. I gave him several more,
and I relaxed.
Keeping one hand on his side, I turned to grab another grape. I felt him tense up and make a rather harsh chirp-snort. The
noise startled me, which caused me to hit the water glass and plate. Water splashed across us, and the plate clattered to the
floor. Instinctually, I reached for the glass, trying to stop it from breaking on the tile, which scared Charlie. He launched from
my lap across the room and slammed into the wet bar. The crystal decanter tipped over, dumping its contents, and the empty
glasses crashed to the floor.
After a lot of crashing about, I was slamming down on my back, knocking the wind out of myself on the kitchen floor. The
back of my head hit the tile, and the pie pan fell onto the floor with a thud. I lay sprawled like a starfish, wondering about my
life choices. It was surprising that so many parts of me hurt right now. Moving would not happen for a few minutes at least. I
closed my eyes, which was the only thing I could do now. I silently prayed I hadn’t permanently damaged Charlie’s psyche or
my body. I took some deep breaths and told myself I needed to get up.
Chapter Two

Aaron

I ended the week with an unexpected phone call from the Dragon Club.
“Mr. Gentry, this is Marcus Benedict from the club.” I was either insulted or amused that he assumed I wasn’t a member of
any other club. He was correct, but it was a little presumptuous.
This group had more power over me than I wanted to admit. They could take Daisy, my dragon, from me, charge me a fine
for breaking the rules, or make me mentor someone getting their companion.
“You are being assigned a mentor position with Mr. River Barallo. He is not a legacy member but an agency placement.”
That meant he bought the opportunity to have a pup. I rubbed my hand over my face; rich men and I didn’t get along. I think it
must be a male dominance-thing.
“When will I be starting?”
“Monday morning, Mr. Gentry. I assume I don’t need to remind you that there is a fine if you decline to assist. Looking at
your financial information, you can decline the placement for … one moment.” I could hear him typing. “It appears you will
owe us five hundred thousand dollars.”
“It appears I will mentor starting on Monday morning then.”
“We appreciate your aid in helping a new member get their footing. I’m sure you will complete the year before you know it.”
“I’m sure I will.” Taking a deep breath, I accepted that this was part of having a dragon in my life. I was a professional and
could easily get through the next year of helping River Barallo and his new dragon.
“Great! I’ll text you the address information. You have a great weekend.” He hung up the phone.
Checking the address, I knew this was one of the best apartment complexes in the city. I recall these units ran two million to
start. They were beautiful homes with all the best amenities.
River got through one year of intense scrutiny and another year of monitoring to qualify. I knew they would have been so far
up his ass that he would have been sore for weeks. I should take all of that into consideration with my opinion of him.
At 9:30 a.m. Monday, I parked my truck in the construction company’s lot. I grabbed my backpack from the passenger’s side
and jogged towards the building. I was a little later than I would have wanted. River and his companion had been alone for
about twenty minutes. How much harm could come in that short amount of time? Slowing as I passed the windows of the
building, I looked myself over. This morning, I threw on well-worn jeans and a classic rock T-shirt. I didn’t hate what I saw,
running my fingers through my hair, which had dried a little wild. At forty-two years old, I looked pretty good, and this wasn’t
a date. His opinion of me was irrelevant if I got the job done.
I opened the doors to the apartment lobby and felt like I had just entered a hotel. A small sitting area with high-quality
couches and chairs sat to one side, and the other wall had a rich ebony desk with an impeccably dressed concierge.
He looked at me like a wet dog about to shake in his lobby. I gave him my megawatt smile, knowing it would likely make
him uncomfortable.
“Can I help you?” he sneered at me.
“I’m here to visit River Barallo. He’s expecting me.” I gave him an equal amount of contempt. If only he knew who I was. I
pulled out my gold Dragon Club membership card and signed the visitor's log with my full name to speed up my entry. His eyes
got huge. He nodded a few times, his attitude changing.
“I’ll unlock the elevator, then tell him you are on your way up. Mr. Barallo is in the penthouse.” He said as he walked to the
elevator doors, first inserting a key to open the doors, then inserting a card into an unlabeled slot below the numbered buttons. I
knew this key allowed the car to go to the penthouse directly.
“Of course he is,” I muttered as I followed him. Riding up the elevator felt impossibly long. There were forty floors with no
stops.
The doors opened to the penthouse, making the lobby look like a junkyard. I knew these apartments for their clean lines and
open-concept design, but what I saw was unexpected. As I looked around, I saw a decanter of whiskey tipped over, broken
glass on the floor next to the wet bar, and a trail of bloody footprints headed toward the kitchen. I took two steps into the room,
unsure of what I was seeing. Where was River? Where was his companion?
Hearing a groan, I moved further into the apartment. There were char marks on the white cabinets, a roll of burned paper
towels, and mixed bottles of spices piled haphazardly in the sink—a picture of what happened formed as I stepped towards
where I had heard the groaning.
Flat on his back, wearing a suit and covered in something that was purplish blue, was whom I assume was River. There was
a nasty gash on his head with a sizable lump that was already becoming dark. There was a pie pan at his feet. Eyes closed, he
groaned again.
A laugh tried to bubble until I realized I didn't see his companion anywhere. Seeing his sink, wet bar, and cabinets, I now had
a good idea about what was happening. How he ended up in this pathetic state was unclear.
“Where?” I asked without a preamble.
He halfheartedly pointed towards the back of the apartment. He wasn’t dead, so I stepped over him, walking in the direction
he pointed.
I needed to find his dragon.
Chapter Three

River

When the elevator was on the way up, I knew it would be my family or someone from the club. Gary, the daytime concierge,
took his job seriously, letting nobody come to the penthouse without first clearing it with me. The Dragon Club had probably
sent someone to take Charlie from me, and they probably knew I had terrified him within the first hour at his new home.
Honestly, I wouldn’t allow me to keep him, either.
My brain felt like it was in a vise, and I was afraid to move. Lifting my arms or any other part of my body felt impossible.
Involuntarily, I groaned when I moved. Any self-respect I had was now gone. Bravely, I opened my eyes, seeing a pair of
Timberlands a few feet from me. I recognized words that I assumed had something to do with Charlie and waved vaguely in the
direction I saw him run. I was considering just laying where I was until they were both gone.
He completely disregarded me as he stepped over me as if I were an inconvenience to his goal, which I assume was to get
Charlie and leave. As I watched his boots clear my body, he seemed particularly tall. Maybe that was just because I was lying
on my back looking up at him.
I lay on the cool tile, contemplating my options. I had already considered staying here until Mr. Timberland - I was calling
him that in my head - left with Charlie. My other choice was to save a little of my pride and thank him for the opportunity. I bet
this was some record. A dragon was removed in less than an hour. How can I be so successful in my career and fail so
miserably and quickly with a dragon?
I decided I should at least try to live up to the standards my family had instilled in me. Raising my head, I winced at the
throbbing throughout my body. My hip and ribs were killing me. I must have hit them harder than I thought. I slowly sat upright
and slid my body back to lean against the stove. Feeling a little dizzy, I assumed the last blow to my head was the reason.
I used my fingertips to feel the lump just above my eye. It had quickly become a sizable mass. The back of my head felt wet; I
could tell it was probably bleeding after touching it. I was a disaster.
Delaying the inevitable was getting me nowhere, so I rose to my knees and used the stove top as leverage. At six-three, I
could stand slowly, making sure not to let go of the countertop this time. My ears were ringing, and I felt lightheaded. Once I
was upright, I stood still for about two minutes.
Realizing that Mr. Timberland was still in my room, I wondered what was happening. I stepped around the worst of the mess
on the floor. Reaching into the drawer, I grabbed two tea towels. Gripping the work surface as tightly as possible, I stepped on
the middle of a towel and tied it over my foot. I wanted to protect the wound and not track blood into the back of the house.
Using the other towel, I wiped off my other foot. I was going to do everything possible to no longer slip. Who thought tile was
an innovative idea in the kitchen anyhow?
I limped towards the bedroom, and my body felt like I had just lost an MMA cage match. When I entered the room, I found
Mr. Timberland on his stomach with his head and a good part of his chest under the bed.
My eyes ran down his back to his perfect ass, and my dick showed immediate appreciation for how effortlessly his jeans
hugged his curves. Leave it to my libido to have zero regard for the rest of my body, which was beat up. Now that I was
upright, I could tell how well-defined he was as I watched him. His arms and shoulders seemed huge, like a hockey player. I
could see his hamstrings flexing as he moved. This guy was probably straight and would not appreciate me eyeballing his
assets. Fortunately, he will never know.
“Aren’t you a pretty boy?” How had he seen me from his position under the bed? “It’s okay. You are safe. River didn’t mean
to scare you.” He wasn’t talking to me.
“His name is Charlie,” I say a little too loudly.
He startled and bumped his head on the bottom of the mattress, then wiggled out from under the bed. I did not know how this
mountain of a man would get Charlie out. There was maybe five inches of clearance; his shoulders didn’t fit.
Enjoying the show while he extracted himself, my eyes roamed until he was standing with his back to me. Admiring how his
T-shirt pulled across his shoulders, the sleeves were tight around his thick, defined biceps. From under the sleeve, I could see
part of a tattoo.
Digging through a backpack on the bed, he pulled out a harness and a fuzzy bag, then shoved something in his pocket. I was
sure he was muttering under his breath, though I couldn’t quite make out the words. He was a little taller than me, and I couldn’t
get over how perfectly his jeans sculpted his body. How much did he pay to get them to fit like that, and can I get the designer’s
number?
When he turned around and looked at me, all I could think was that his eyes were the color of emeralds. Saying he was
handsome wouldn’t define his features. He reminded me of the man you find on the cover of a romance novel. A day’s growth
on his chin suited him while his lips looked warm and soft. Things stirred behind my zipper while I stood gazing at him, trying
not to drool. As if I hadn’t embarrassed myself enough now, I hoped he wouldn’t notice the semi in my pants.
“Lesson number one. Use a harness for the next couple of days. It will take time before you trust each other enough to be free
around the house without it.” His face showed no emotion. He was letting the harness dangle from his index finger in front of
him. There was no way I would tell him I had a harness I hadn’t used.
I took the harness from him, trying to give him a reassuring smile. Looking me up and down, he scowled, or that was his
regular face. “Nice suit.”
“What? I paid a lot for this suit.” I said much more defensively than I had intended. Looking at myself, I was rumpled and
covered in sticky pie filling. This was a terrible first impression.
He raised his eyebrow and smirked. Turning around, he got onto his hands and knees. My heart skipped a beat, and I
imagined how much I would enjoy him in that position naked with me behind him. I chastised myself for thinking such things
about a man I didn’t know, but who could blame me? He was hot.
He shoved himself under the bed again. He was whispering this time, using Charlie’s name.
“I’m going to change clothes.” Unsure why, I felt I needed to announce it to him. It appeared he didn’t need my help, so I
grabbed some clothes from my dresser and headed into the bathroom. There was no reason for me not to be comfortable; this
man had seen me sprawled on my back, covered in pie, barely able to move. I could only improve from here. While changing, I
realized he had gotten here quickly after the situation escalated. There must be a camera in the crate or some monitor on
Charlie that told them to have Mr. Timberland retrieve Charlie, leaving me alone.
Chapter Four

Aaron

When I looked at River properly, a shiver went up my spine, and the blood in my body traveled elsewhere. I haven’t felt an
immediate attraction like this in years, more like decades. I’ve not been interested in a man since I came home from work one
day to find a note from Stephen, whom I thought was my forever. That folded piece of paper was concise. He was leaving the
relationship. Losing Stephen was not a surprise. Losing his son Tanner, whom I had been raising, was crushing.
I still missed Tanner, but my ex was in the rearview mirror. I hadn’t encountered someone interesting until today, and it
intrigued my body. What I was feeling was surprising but not unwelcome. It was nice to realize I had not lost the ability to feel
lust. Unfortunately, I directed it at a guy who couldn’t even manage to be alone with a tiny little dragon for twenty-five minutes.
He had this incredible square jaw, olive-colored skin, and wavy dark hair, begging for me to run my hands through it. You
could tell he was Italian, maybe only a second-generation American. He had those dark eyes and broad shoulders that were fit.
Losing the ability to speak, I looked at the plush lips that seemed so kissable; I made a smart-ass comment and turned around
before he could see that he had caused me to swell against my zipper.
I needed to get Charlie out from under the bed. The problem was I needed things to settle enough that laying on my stomach
on the hardwood wouldn’t be painful. Getting on the floor, I stayed on my hands and knees far longer than natural. I could feel
River looking at me, wondering what I was doing. I knew my thoughts were improper since I needed to work with this man. I
told myself he was rich, probably self-absorbed, and likely not into men. I was hoping my brain would let it go. I couldn't think
of him as a snob since I found him on his kitchen floor covered in pie.
My brain was not helpful while still thinking about those lips and the places I wanted to feel them. I forced myself to focus
on the task, getting my body under control, and then back under the bed I went. River said something about getting changed. I
thought about him getting undressed only a few feet away from me.
“Charlie, you’re a good boy. Yes, you are. I know you’re scared, and this is all new, but you will be ok.” Using my most
soothing tone, I looked him in the eyes. He blinked at me, appearing to relax. He had put himself as far away as possible, and I
couldn’t get to him from where I was. My upper body was a hindrance. My shoulders and back were just too bulky.
I knew I had to ask the only other person around to help extract our friend. “River!” I say way too snappishly. I didn’t know
the guy and treated him like he had offended me. Okay, he had offended me a little by scaring this poor fella, but otherwise,
there was no reason I should hate him before I got to know him. It is interesting how the thought of his mouth and eyes also
softened my feelings toward him.
“Did you call me?” I could see his feet from under the bed. It appeared he had a kitchen towel tied around one foot.
“Yeah, I need your help to get Charlie out from under the bed. Can you get down here next to me?” Charlie was on my right
where I was lying, so I assumed River would also settle on my right. I knew his proximity was going to kill me. Hopefully, I
could keep the memory of him lying on his back like a flipped turtle in my head. Nothing was attractive about that, and it made
me chuckle to myself.
“Sure!” he said enthusiastically, then dropped to the ground on my left side. He then shimmied under the bed next to me.
“Wait. I need you on the other side, as close to Charlie as possible. Maybe move that end table a little if you can. I’ll need
you to get him to climb in a ‘cave’ so we can bring him out.”
River squirmed back out from under the bed. He whimpered, which sounded like he was in pain. Once he cleared the
bedframe, he stopped moving for a few moments. He grunted as he pushed up from the floor. He made other terrible noises,
then stopped, returning to his knees. Instead of trying to stand up again, he straddled my waist with his thighs.
“What the hell,” I muttered as warmth pooled in my stomach.
Having to interact with him every day the next week would be torture. I couldn’t help my attraction, but I had to get my body
under control. Feeling his thighs around my back made me feel all kinds of things. He leaned forward, moving the other leg
over; I was sure I felt something firm against my back.
He grunted some. Was he doing this intentionally? Finally, he was on the other side of me. He shoved the end table, the books
and clock fell to the ground, and the lamp wobbled but stayed upright. Charlie immediately tensed up again.
“What is wrong with you? How did you ever get approved? You’re a menace.” I closed my eyes and shook my head slightly.
“Honestly, I’m wondering about that myself. “
I almost felt bad for my comment. River again slid himself under the bed. He was not skinny but didn’t carry the bulk I did on
my back and shoulders.
“Give Charlie about two feet to keep him from panicking and hurting himself.”
His body was close enough that I could feel the warmth of his thigh against mine. He smelled like sandalwood and
blueberries, which wasn’t unpleasant. Since he was looking towards Charlie, I could see blood in his hair where he must have
hit it. Pushing the faux fur-lined bag towards him, it touched his hand, and he mindlessly grabbed it. Pulling it around so it was
in front of him.
“Make it look like a cave as much as possible with the opening facing Charlie. Move it close enough to grab it once he
climbs in. That’s it, that’s it.”
I couldn’t see around his head and shoulders, so I trusted he was listening. He spoke quietly yet confidently. Encouraging
Charlie to move towards the “cave.”
“Come on, Charlie, come to us where it's safe. You’ll be okay.” I doubted Charlie understood the words even though he
could learn them. They placed pups when they were four months old, but he had yet to learn the basics, like come and stay. It
made me feel better that he encouraged him with sentences instead of words. Dragons did better when conversed with instead
of just commanded.
“He’s moving!” He was quiet but enthusiastic, his body tensing up next to mine.
I remembered the dried meat I stuck in my pocket. I could grab it by slightly turning my hips, accidentally brushing my groin
against River. I sucked in a breath. How could such a slight touch cause such a reaction? It made me wonder about my sanity. I
didn’t even know this guy. How could I have this level of attraction? Maybe after all these years, my body has just given up
waiting for my brain, and it’s going rogue. Now, the first attractive man I am close to causes my manhood to dance.
I stuck a small amount of the meat in my mouth, turning it to mush. “Give me your hand.”
“What? Why would we hold hands?” I shook my head, wondering why he would think I wanted to hold his hand. Was this
guy for real?
“No,” I said as calmly as possible. “I mean, put your hand out. I can give you a treat to encourage Charlie to get into the
bag.” He twisted his arm so it was palm up and backward. I took the mush from my mouth and put it in his palm.
“Ugh… What is that? Why is it wet? Where did it come from?” I closed my eyes. How had I gotten myself into this situation?
I was answering ridiculous questions, under a king-sized bed, in some rich man's house, whom I wanted to drive my dick into
until he begged me to stop.
“It’s meat. I chewed it up to make it soft since Charlie is still a baby.” I couldn’t decide if he annoyed me or amused me.
“Gross, this has your spit all over it.” I could hear him make a gagging sound. I decided he amused me.
“Please, just show him the meat and encourage him to get in the bag. I’d like to get out from under here today. It should excite
him to get a snack, especially beef.”
“Come on, Charlie. The bag will be warm and snuggly.” Seriously, this guy was all kinds of adorable.
He was doing a good job, and I wanted to encourage him. I touched his back, hoping to let him know he was doing well. I
could feel the heat of his body, wishing I could slide under that soft T-shirt and feel his warm skin. I looked at his back in front
of me. At that moment, I realized my hand was on his ass, not his back, since he was much farther under the bed than myself. I
jerked my hand away. We both remained silent, not knowing if I should apologize or pretend it didn’t happen. I assumed his
silence meant we were ignoring it.
“Charlie, you are such a good boy. Come on. Almost there.” Trying to contain his excitement, I listened to his voice climbing
octaves. I knew we almost had him in the bag, safe and sound.
“You did it! Isn’t that so much more comfortable? Here, eat your … meat goop. I’m sure it’s yummy. What should I do?” He
whispered.
“Slowly, pull it out from under the bed. Charlie is happy in the pouch now. It’s where they feel safest. In that way, they are
like a kangaroo's joey and never outgrow it. Pick the whole thing up, then hold it against your body once you are out.”
“Okay, I can do that.” He was excited. My heart did a little jump of excitement for them both. I knew I wouldn't forget this
moment. His enthusiasm for his companion was evident.
I shuffled myself out from under the bed, groaning as I stood up. Things were stiff, and it wasn’t just my knees. I looked at the
clock; it was 11 a.m. When I took the mentor class, they told us to arrive at the client’s house within eight hours of their match. I
got here as soon as possible, following my mentor’s example. I was glad it paid off.
Relieved that the 'rescue’ was done, I had to decide what to do from here. I had not expected this when I left my house this
morning. The next Dragon Club conference would be fun when I tell this story, especially after I give it a little color
commentary.
As I watched River and Charlie, holding the pouch close to his body, he smiled at his new companion. You could tell he
cared. River looked up at me, worried. Holding his gaze, I felt something else and forced myself out of those thoughts. The
bruise on his forehead looked terrible, and his pain was noticeable when he moved.
I took the bundle from his arms, our skin brushing and causing a spark. “Looks like both of you had a rough morning.” I
raised one eyebrow.
“Yeah. I’ve had better,” River said, clearly exhausted.
I walked towards the kitchen, whispering to Charlie. River said nothing, following solemnly.
Chapter Five

River

There was pie filling, with streaks of blood everywhere. My sink held my coffee maker and an array of spice containers, some
of which had opened in my haste of trying not to burn down the building. Bits of burned paper towels covered the countertop
and floor. The cabinet doors were black and smelled of burnt wood. When I rounded the corner, there were glass shards on the
floor, the decanter with the five-hundred-dollar bottle of scotch tipped over, the amber liquid spilling over the marble work
surface and pooling on the floor.
How did this happen in such a short amount of time? It couldn't have been over an hour from when I got home until Mr.
Timberland stepped over my prone body.
I looked at the man next to me, and he was looking into the pouch. “You are cute, aren’t you? You’ve had an eventful
morning.” I heard a chittering sound, then a chirp. I was happy I didn’t hurt Charlie; I dreaded watching them walk out the door
together.
If I were being honest with myself, I wouldn’t have minded getting to know Mr. Timberland, too. He was tall and muscular;
his front side interested me as much as his backside. I still felt the heat where his hand sat on my ass while we were under the
bed. Several years ago, I was hooking up all the time, but as I became more successful, the less interest I had in going out and
finding someone to take to my bed. Spending so much time being “on” with my clients and the athletes I wanted to recruit. I just
wanted to be quiet at home when I wasn't working. I had hoped I could be with Charlie, then I wouldn’t be alone.
As I looked at him, I realized there was something about this guy. He had a calm, comforting confidence about him. Even
though he came in like a badass, things about him made me curious. Like when he raised that eyebrow at me. Was it a challenge
to sass him? If it wasn’t for him breaking my heart in a few minutes when he walked away with Charlie, I might have pursued
this energy between us further.
As I stood there, I realized that my entire body hurt. Thrashing around on the floor, hitting my head twice, the anxiety of
getting Charlie and the situation once we got home had exhausted me. I looked around at the mess and then at the two of them. A
stinging started behind my eyes, holding it off by pinching the bridge of my nose. There was no way I would let tears worsen
this situation. I was going to accept the consequences and learn from it. I would not cry where this man would see me. I’d
already humiliated myself enough today.
I found Tylenol and swallowed them dry, flopping down on the middle cushion of my couch, never looking away from my
houseguest. He looked like he walked out of a men's magazine. Turning his head, he caught me staring at him. Never looking
away, simply raising that eyebrow again. His apparent confidence was infuriating.
Walking over and sitting down next to me, our thighs touched. The contact burned through my clothes and right to my groin.
Sitting at either end would have been wiser, but moving now would seem weird. Emotionally, I was on edge, and this little
contact brought back the urge to cry. I was a mess. I needed to get through this, have a few fingers of whiskey, and climb into
bed to sleep off my humiliation.
“Are you ready to hold him?” He went to hand me the pouch.
“What? Me? How come? I thought,… YES!” I reached out and took the small bundle from him. Looking inside, I saw Charlie
curled in a ball, entirely at peace. I tried speaking again. “I thought you would take him immediately. Thank you for letting me
say goodbye.”
That eyebrow went up. I don’t know how a man could say so much with such little movement, but he certainly did. “Go
where? Charlie is your dragon now. I would never take him.”
That was all it took, I cried. It had been too much for me, and I was pathetic. Enormous eyes looked up at me and blinked.
The gorgeous green eyes of the man beside me gave me a similar look. He reached out like he would comfort me, then pulled
his hand back. “I thought I had failed, and you were here to confiscate him because I couldn’t even manage for an hour.”
“Twenty-five minutes.” He said without emotion.
“Do I get to keep him? Is he still mine?” Tears ran down my face, and I made snorting noises. He had answered these
questions. I just needed to hear it again.
“Yes? Only if this crying stops at once, please.” A smirk crossed his lips and nearly turned into a closed-mouth smile. “My
name is Aaron Gentry. I will mentor you for the next year in all things dragon.” I thought about his name. It was familiar, but I
did not know why, so I smiled at him, hoping to get one in return. He just looked at me blankly.
“I’m River Barallo, which I assume you know. I didn’t think the mentor would arrive so soon after I got home from picking
him up.”
“It’s up to the individual mentor how they want to contact and proceed. When I got my Daisy, it was helpful for my mentor to
be with me as soon as I got home. I decided I would do the same when I got assigned to you. I am here to help you learn about
living with a dragon all day, every day.”
“That makes sense. I am glad the club has this program because I need help.” I was getting the crying under control.
He snorted. “You think? I’ll be honest. Daisy, my dragon, and I had a few bumpy spots. Nothing like this.” He waved his
hand around the room. “But we had our moments.”
“Yeah, I’m not proud of this morning.” I didn’t have any defense. I was a disaster.
“Approximately five thousand people apply to the agency to get a placement. Only about one hundred dragons have ever
gone to non-legacy homes. Worldwide, there are only about fifteen thousand dragons in total. You are in an exclusive club now,
River.”
I knew the statistics without really thinking about what it meant. A wave of relief came over me. I settled into knowing that I
would keep Charlie, and we would be a team from here on.
From what he told me, I had paid a much heftier fee than legacy members. Agency members also had a lengthy vetting
process and wait time. Legacy members -a person with dragon(s) already in their family- had to be approved. Still, their
review was more straightforward, and their financials weren’t relevant if they could pay the membership fee.
“This year, only three pups have been born. Charlie was from a legacy member who had not expected another egg. The
parents offered him to the agency for placement.”
Aaron’s voice calmed me, and I hoped he would never stop talking. Gently, I stroked Charlie while he explained the basics
of the system. I didn't miss that he would be at my apartment all day the next few days, then spend several hours Wednesday,
Thursday, and possibly Friday. Every so often, my eyes took in the fullness of his lips, then moved down, looking at the square
jaw, the soft skin on his neck, and his broad chest and thick arms. I knew being pinned under him would be hot, shaking away
those thoughts and refocusing on his words. My problem was that looking into those emerald eyes was not helping me focus.
Maybe it was the bumps on my head, but I would swear I saw desire in them. I picked up the bundle on my lap when he
finished talking and asked Aaron to hold him. “I need to get a snack or something. I’ll be right back.”
When I stood up, a wave of dizziness hit me. Reaching out, I put my hand on Aaron’s shoulder. He grabbed my waist to keep
me from tumbling over. I winced, then yelped when his hand made contact.
“Woah, you, okay?” Shaking my head, “I don’t know. That hurt when you touched my hip,” pulling up my shirt. There was a
bruise from my ribs to under the waistband of my sweats, pushing my pants down a little. I couldn't see where it ended without
being indecent.
Aaron stared at my stomach and swallowed hard. He reached to touch the spot, and I silently wished for his hand to contact
my flesh, pulling away before touching me.
“I’m going to call someone to come look at you.” It wasn’t even a request. It was simply a statement.
He spoke on the phone for a few minutes and then turned to me. “Hey, how do I tell your concierge that a doctor is coming?
He should be here in a few minutes to look you over. He was just up the street.”
He sat down and shook his head. “You’ve done a number to yourself, haven’t you?”
“I feel like I kicked my ass.” I got a genuine smirk with that one, which made me more determined to bring a smile out of
him. I bet when he smiled, it lit up the room.
He stood up and handed me Charlie. “I’ll be right back.” Watching him go to the back of the house, he returned with his
backpack. How did he even know you could get to the bedroom that way?
Cradling Charlie, I put my phone on speaker when it rang. “Mr. Barallo. Dr. Kavalski is here to see you.” Gary said in his
sing-song way.
“Send him up, please,” Aaron said before I could answer. He turned to look at me like he was expecting me to challenge
him.
Chapter Six

Aaron

Dr. Kavalski had been my doctor for about ten years. Having him on call for my guys was not only appreciated but efficient.
The elevator doors opened. “Aaron!!! You glorious bastard!” My friend and the most incredible doctor I know walked into
the apartment and hugged me. “Is this the man here that needs some repair?” He looked over at River, who was more interested
in his dragon than anything we said.
“Yeah, he has some nasty head wounds and a wicked bruise on his hip.”
“Can I ask what happened?” He looked at River.
“Hey River, tell the Doc here how you ended up with bumps and bruises?” He looked up at us.
“I suppose saying I tripped won’t give you the answers you want.”
“No,” we said in unison.
It was clear that River didn’t want to tell this story. My curiosity was getting the best of me. He was uncomfortable, which
made him look pretty cute. He took a deep breath. “Charlie and I were getting acquainted with some water and grapes.
Everything was going great until he sneezed, which startled me. I knocked over the water glass and plate.”
“That doesn't sound so bad.” Dr. K said.
“This is where it all turned sideways. I grabbed for the glass, scaring Charlie. Flying across the room, he hit the wet bar,
which knocked those glasses on the floor, breaking them. Yelling because I was afraid he would cut himself panicked him
more.” I was doing everything I could not to start laughing.
Dr. K wasn’t so kind. “Have you ever had a pet son? No common sense in you, is there?” I put my head down and pinched
the bridge of my nose. River’s ears were pink when I looked up, and he was looking down, clearly embarrassed. “Well, go on
then, so far, you scaring the poor dragon doesn’t explain your shape.”
Not looking up, River continued his story. “When I approached Charlie after he hit the wet bar, I stepped on a piece of glass.
Charlie was safely on the kitchen counter by now. Sitting down, I pulled the glass from my foot. Charlie made a snorting noise.
A small tendril of smoke rose from his nostril, and the paper towels burned beside him. Trying not to burn down the apartment,
I lunged towards the flames.” He had looked down again, drawing himself up, clearly uncomfortable. “Charlie was now on his
third round of panic, heading to my bedroom to hide. While trying to stop the fire, I slid headfirst into the cabinets since blood
on tile is one of the most slippery surfaces on earth. Then, while trying not to fall, I grabbed what I thought was the counter. It
wasn’t the counter. It was a blueberry pie. Losing my balance again, I fell hard, landing on my back.”
“Oh boy.” Dr. K’s eyes were twinkling, and his lips were twitching upward. I managed to contain myself, and it was getting
more and more difficult, however.
“There’s more.” He spoke it so softly that I barely heard him. “I knew someone was coming up from the lobby. Wanting to
make a good impression, I willed myself to get up. I immediately learned that the only thing more slippery than blood on the
tile is blood and pie filling on the tile. I then fell a second time, landing hard on my hip, slamming my head on the floor again,
and whacking other parts of me on cabinetry. So, that’s how I ended up with my bumps and bruises. Aaron stepped over me a
few minutes after my second fall.”
“Stepped over you?” Dr. K looked at me. I shrugged, raising an eyebrow.
Dr. K started laughing loudly and hard. “That little fellow,” he pointed to Charlie, “really stirred things up for you, didn’t
he?” That was it. I tried to look casual as I turned around. If River looked at me, I am sure he could see my shoulders shaking
as I chuckled. I knew thinking it was funny was wrong. The man could tell a story, though.
I felt terrible for River and Charlie. The whole thing was traumatizing. Turning back towards them, I bit my tongue to keep
my composure. Doc, however, could have been more kind.
“Holy fuck, kid. You’re lucky to be alive. That wee pup nearly did you in. What does he weigh four pounds? Imagine if he
were an adult, we’d have to call the coroner.” Then I lost it. I started to laugh. It was from deep inside. It felt good because I
hadn’t genuinely laughed in a long time. Putting my hands on my knees, I started to gasp for air.
 River looked at us, not appreciating our mirth. “Come on. How many people can say they got beat by something so small?”
Doc was ruthless and started to laugh again. River smiled, and then I heard a sound that went straight to my dick and soul.
River started to laugh, and it was a warm, rich rumble. I liked it and wanted to hear it again. I don’t know why I liked this
guy, but something about how he loved his dragon already, that he cried with relief when finding out I wasn’t taking Charlie
from him, and that he was willing to laugh with us made me want to get to know him. The lust I felt looking at him had been
joined by a genuine interest in learning this man better. Some people you know you want to be friends with. It seems like River
was one of those people.
“Let’s take a look at what we have here.” Dr. K walked across the room. “That is one hell of a goose egg you have. How
long ago did this happen?”
“It’s been probably two hours now, and I know it hurts. I think the one on the back of my head is still bleeding, and my hip is
killing me.” River gave all the information in a rush. He looked over at me with relief. I missed the lust I saw there the last
time he looked at me, but I thought he was glad a doctor was here to look him over.
“Why don’t you hand that little guy to Aaron, and we will look at you more carefully. Do you want us to go somewhere
private?”
“Nah, Aaron saw me when I was on my back sprawled like a starfish. I feel like that created a bond between us.” He looked
at me again, and the lust was back in his eyes this time. I raised my eyebrow at him, and he just shook his head. I took Charlie
and sat back down on the couch.
Dr. K took out a flashlight and checked the dilation in River’s eyes, then probed the bumps on his head, using his fingers to
feel around the areas.
“I’m going to need you to stand up so we can look at your hip.” River lifted his shirt so the doctor had a better view. I didn’t
want to stare, but I couldn’t help myself. With washboard abs and a happy trail of dark hair leading under his waistband, I
knew it would lead to a treasure. He hadn’t noticed me staring when he pulled his sweatpants down further. I let out a small
gasp. With the sound, he looked directly at me. We locked our eyes, and he pulled them down lower without blinking. He then
ran his hand back and forth over his stomach, not once looking away from me. If he wasn’t into men, he sure as hell knew how
to flirt with them.
Dr. K gently prodded at his hip, and River yelped. “Fuck, that hurts Doc. Do I have to go to the hospital?”
“I don’t think there is any internal damage or anything broken. You just got your ass kicked. I must put a few stitches on your
head and foot. Keep your hip and forehead iced, no heavy lifting for a few days, and keep your foot dry. I’ll write you a
prescription for some pain pills; take one as soon as you get them and one tonight before bed. You might need another pill
tomorrow, but you should be able to use Tylenol afterward.” He got supplies from his bag and started stitching up River’s
wounds.
Once the doctor finished, I handed Charlie to River and walked with Doc to the elevator. “Can you please drop the
prescription off at the usual place?”
“No problem.”
“Thanks for coming over as always. It's appreciated,” I told Dr. K. as he pushed the call button.
“Aaron, you know this is why you pay me, right?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I can’t thank you for being good at your job.” I smiled and slapped him on the back. “Take care of
yourself, and you need to bring Adam over to play with Daisy soon. It’s good for them to socialize.” Dr. K agreed and headed
out of the penthouse.
I turned around and headed back to the couch. Charlie's blue head poked out while River stroked him, and he chirped
happily. They stared at each other as if I was not in the room, and I felt like I should look away, giving them some privacy. A
dragon's bond with its human gives them a sense of each other that outsiders would never get. It would enable them to read
each other’s thoughts and sense one another miles apart.
River looked at me like he wanted to say something but turned back when he heard a chirp. He looked at Charlie, giving him
a smile that reached his eyes, and I could see how breathtaking he was.
“I need to get that prescription picked up, and I am starving. Can you hand me my phone?” River asked while looking down.
“It’s all taken care of. I got ice packs, pain pills, and food.” I hadn’t eaten today, and my heart warmed when he looked at me
like I had just told him he had won the lottery.
“Thank you.” He quietly said while leaning back. Charlie was hanging in and out of the pouch, letting him rub his entire
body. Both of their eyes were closed. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m not as big a mess as I seem. Believe it or not, I am quite
successful out there.”
“Out there?” I needed to know what he meant by this.
“Yeah, out there in the world. I am one of the top sports agents in the country. I have some of the biggest names as clients. I
can pick and choose whom I want on my roster. It’s just that when I am not in professional agent mode, I am a mess sometimes.
The world has too many people, and I am not a fan.” I understood what he was saying even though there were some
contradictions.
 His phone rang. “What’s up, Gary?”
“There is Ms. Sarah here as your guest.” He looked at me for confirmation. I nodded.
“Send her up.”
I waited a moment, and then the elevator arrived. Walking over, I waited for Sarah. “Hey there, beautiful.” I leaned in and
kissed her cheek while taking the bags and a drink carrier from her. She wore a construction vest, jeans, and work boots. She
came from work because she loved me.
“How come you didn’t call a service?” she asked me, more out of curiosity than annoyance.
“I wanted to see your face; I figured I would update you on my schedule for the next few days.”
She looked at me, then at River, raising her eyebrow. “Okay?”
“I’ll be in this apartment for the next two days, at least half a day, the remainder of the week. You can come here if needed.
Of course, you can call, text, or email as usual.”
She looked at me like sisters do, and I knew what she was thinking. I agreed he was hot, but I couldn't discuss my lust-filled
morning with my sister, at least not with the fuel to my fire sitting in the same room. I kissed her cheek again. “Thank you for
bringing all this over; you're the best. Your boss is an asshole, so you better return to work.”
“You’re right he is. See you later. Stay out of trouble.” She giggled as she headed back downstairs. I shook my head. We
were so alike I couldn’t stand it.
I turned around to see River staring at me. His eyes narrowed, and his head cocked. He looked like a confused dog. “In case
you didn’t hear, that was my sister Sarah. She works in the neighborhood, and I convinced her to run me a few errands.” I could
be misreading it, but I think he visibly relaxed after my explanation. I wondered if he thought Sarah was someone I had a
relationship with. I smiled. Maybe he was interested.
Chapter Seven

River

Watching Aaron’s familiarity with the pretty woman who brought up the food made my stomach knot. I knew I was being utterly
ridiculous. Maybe I had imagined the flirtation between us. He turned around, and I looked at him, trying to unpack what was
happening. Taking it upon himself, he told me it was his sister. Relief flooded me, and that little spark of hope reignited.
He carried over the paper shopping bags and sat next to me. “Do you have a proper bed for Charlie?”
“No. I wanted to wait until you arrived to discuss my options.” I should have mentioned I had a little pouch for him until I
bought something more permanent.
He stood up and walked back towards the office area and second bedroom. I heard him opening the linen cabinet. Really,
how did he know that cabinet was even there? He came back with two fluffy towels, making a little support system. I moved
the pouch with Charlie from my lap to the towels, and now we both had our hands free. Charlie raised his head, looking
around, but seemed content to sit there and watch us. I reached over and petted his head.
Grabbing the bags, Aaron pulled out the prescription bottle. “Take one of those.” I didn’t know why his telling me what to do
was so comforting. I felt obligated to do what he said. Handing me a drink, he looked through the bags. Swallowing the pill, I
had to admit I was looking forward to some relief.
There were gel ice packs, which he took to the kitchen, gingerly stepping over the mess still on the floor. He opened a few
cabinets and drawers, returning with forks, knives, several serving spoons, and some plates. “I don’t mind eating takeout, but I
like to use silverware and a real plate when possible. I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself. It’s a pretty big mess in
there,” he said as he sat back down.
“I imagine it is.” I watched his lips move up like he was about to smile, stopping short. I could see his eyes crinkle. At least
I amused him.
As he pulled out containers, I could smell barbeque. Coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, and corn were all
accounted for. He then pulled out the meat. There were piles of turkey, sausage, pulled pork, and brisket. There was enough
food here for ten people. “Are we expecting guests? There is too much food here.”
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got some of everything.” He dug into the bags again. “Oh, good sauce and rolls.”
“Good thing, we might have starved without that.” I grinned at him.
“I’m hungry. There is a lot of me that needs regular fueling.”
I looked him up and down, indexing all the lovely parts of him that needed that fuel. I looked at his thick forearms that led
down to big hands that I knew were strong, but he used them so gently with Charlie. There were fine lines around his eyes,
leaving me to believe he was around my age, with a strong jaw and bright, expressive eyes. I looked at his tapered waist, then
had to stop myself from thinking about what might be below his beltline. Physically, Aaron was the whole package.
He continued preparing the food, slowly turning his head to look at me. Again, I got caught staring at him like a hormonal
teenager. That eyebrow started to move, then nothing. He turned back to our meal. There were two clamshell boxes with a red
DX on them. Without opening them, he set them aside.
“I’m starving. Let’s dig in,” Aaron said, then grabbed a spoon, putting a little bit of everything on a plate. I noticed he was
most generous with the meats. I didn’t know how he ate regularly, but whatever he did worked.
I ate so much it was embarrassing because it was delicious. The pills must have kicked in because I started to think about
how I was so happy to live in a world where I didn’t have to leave my house. Now I had Charlie, and being home was even
better.
“You know this sofa is comfortable.” Aaron wiggled into it a bit. “Do you mind if I take off my boots? They aren’t the most
comfortable for sitting around the house, and there are many things for you to learn today.”
“Go ahead.” He could take off anything he wanted. “I found a couch that fit the room's design but insisted it be comfortable.
However, if I am home, I am in my office or bedroom. All this is for show.” I waved my hands around the living room, and I
was babbling.
 “Here.” Aaron handed me one of the containers marked with a DX.
I opened the clamshell to look inside. “Oh.”
There were four different piles of meat we had just eaten. “They are unseasoned with no sauce. A little treat for Charlie.” He
winked at me.
“Can I give it to him now?” I knew I was too excited about feeding him. The painkiller was helping, and despite a dull ache
everywhere, I was feeling better. It also seemed to be making me a little hyper.
“Oh yes. Charlie will eat every chance you give him and will consume anything you offer him. Like me, he requires a lot of
food to make muscles and stay strong.” Then he grinned at me. I could feel a thickening in my sweatpants. That grin lit up his
whole face, and my entire body responded.
That was flirting for sure, wasn’t it? Maybe that was just how people talked in the real world. My inability to identify
flirting was why I didn’t date, plus hookups were easier back when I bothered with those. You didn’t have to decipher what
they were saying. You just had sex. For me, dating required me to find out if they were into men, and then I had to figure out if
they were into me. I was terrible at it.
I took Charlie out of the pouch and put him on my chest. “Look what our friend got you. Lots of tasty treats.” I pinched some
of the pork between my fingers and held it up. His tongue touched it first like he was tasting it, then grabbed the rest.
“Spoiling him on his first day, it’s a bad precedent.”
After Charlie swallowed, he looked at me, hoping for more. “I wasn't the one that bought him a bucket of meat.”
“It was hardly a bucket.” He chuckled to himself. I continued to feed my dragon the food until it was gone.
While I was spoiling my dragon, Aaron gathered up the leftovers and put them on the kitchen counter. My body hurt, I put my
feet on the coffee table, and Charlie lay on my chest and stomach. We were both very content. I lazily stroked him, his eyes
closed. How lucky was I to have this sweet dragon with me forever? I closed my eyes while I continued to pet him.

***

Waking up, I looked around. Charlie had settled against my collarbone, and his tail wrapped around my neck. Aaron sat on the
other end of the couch with his feet up, head back, eyes closed, looking relaxed.
I needed to get up but didn’t want to disturb Charlie.
“You’re awake,” Aaron said without opening his eyes. I don’t know how he knew. I hadn’t moved a muscle.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Having Charlie happy and full laying on me felt so nice.” I sounded ridiculous,
and I’m sure the pain pills weren’t helping. “How long was I out for?”
“Not a problem. It was only three hours.” His eyes remained closed. I looked at his profile and the smooth skin of his neck. I
wondered what it would feel like under my tongue.
I reached up, removing Charlie from around my neck. He chirped as I went to put him down next to me.
“Harness. We don’t want a repeat of this morning.” He chuckled. “That would be even more embarrassing, having your ass
kicked twice the same day by a four-pound dragon?”
“Can you hold him while I go get the harness?”
“Sure.” I stood up, expecting him to move. He remained still, so I set Charlie down on his chest, and he immediately started
to pet him.
I went into the bathroom, looked at myself in the mirror, and then grimaced. I had a massive bruise above my right eyebrow,
and in the middle of it was a sizable lump. I looked tired, but I felt more refreshed after my nap. I picked a piece of pie crust
from my hair and ran my fingers through it. A guy must have self-respect when a hot man is on his couch.
I looked at the clock, and it was already 5 p.m. This day went quickly. Was it only this morning when I was being introduced
to Charlie? I got the harness and pouch I had purchased when I got approved. I custom-ordered both items. The inside of the
bag had rainbow colors with long fluffy fur, while the exterior was black velvet with a small rainbow stitched into it. I didn’t
advertise I was gay, but I did support the LBGTQ+ community and liked to purchase from queer shop owners when possible.
The harness was soft, well-worked leather; you could resize it as he grew. It had fleece on the underside of the leather, so it
was smooth against his body. I figured if I wore a harness, I would want it as comfortable as possible.
I went through the kitchen, figuring I could grab more of that meat and give it to Charlie. The leftovers were no longer on my
table. When I opened the fridge, everything was stacked neatly with the item and date written on them. I looked at the Chinese
food container from the other day. I had labeled it similarly. Aaron saw what I had done and duplicated it. It was a ridiculously
thoughtful thing to do, and there was no way he could realize how this gesture made me more comfortable in general.
While looking in the refrigerator, I realized I was standing in my clean kitchen. The floor sparkled, but there was nothing in
my sink. I had fewer spices than this morning, but what remained was back on the counter. My coffee maker sat in its spot, and
a fresh roll of paper towels was on the holder. The only sign of this morning’s disaster was the black marks on the cabinets,
which seemed lighter than earlier. I would have to have those replaced; I guess I needed to contact the owner of the building.
I walked into the living room and then looked at the wet bar. The decanter sat upright, and one lonely glass sat next to it. The
floor was spotless, with no sign of glass or blood. I didn’t even see any trash bags.
“Aaron?” His hand moved slowly down Charlie's smooth body. “You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I’m aware.” He said nothing more. I had hoped this would have been more of a conversation. It looked like that was all I
was going to get.
“I have a few things to cover with you before I head home to Daisy.” I sat down next to him as he sat up. Charlie was now on
his thighs, sitting upright. Unsure what to do, I lamely held up the harness.
He took the harness from my hand. “Hey, that's nice. You did well.” My heart did an extra little thump at the compliment, and
I could feel my face go red. It was a weird reaction. I got complimented all the time; never have I blushed.
He handed me the harness back. “What else do you have there?” I gave him the pouch. “I like this. Charlie will be fine in it
for a few days,” he handed it back.
Now that I was holding both items again, I wasn’t sure what to do. I decided to lean over Aaron to put the harness on
awkwardly. I lifted Charlie’s legs into the holes. Heat radiated off his thighs, and I was sure my hand brushed his bulge more
than once. I didn’t take a good look, but I was sure the shape changed behind his zipper while I secured the little belly strap
and snapped the leash on. Once I finished, Charlie remained on his lap.
“Well, that’s one way to get it on him.” He smirked at me. I don’t know why I didn’t move him to the cushion, table, floor, or
even on my legs. Why did I do that on his lap? Could I get more awkward?
“Um, yeah,” I said rather lamely.
“Give it a gentle tug, and say, ‘Charlie come.’” He told me while looking directly at me. I did as described, and Charlie
walked off his lap and over to me. “You will need to know a few things to get through tonight.
“You’re leaving me?” My voice came out high-pitched. Terror at being alone with him again gripped me.
“You’re going to be fine.” He patted my thigh, and my entire body lit on fire. “First, don’t let him off his harness. Wrap the
leash around your wrist and let him sleep on the bed in his bag, at least tonight. Second, don’t overfeed him. Dragon vomit is
disgusting; dragons eat anything that tastes good, and if they get too full, they gag it up. The smell is atrocious. Trust me, the last
thing you want to do is wake up with a wad of dragon vomit stuck to your face. I know this from experience. Finally, do not
leave this apartment. Unless there are flames.” He stopped and chuckled, “Unless you see big flames you can’t put out, stay in
this apartment.”
“When will you be back?” I asked, sounding desperate.
“I should be back tomorrow morning.” I was relieved to know that it wouldn’t be that long. I realized I wanted him back here
for myself as much as for Charlie. Smiling broadly, I knew it would be a long night as I thought about those emerald eyes and
muscles for days. I couldn’t wait until I learned more about Charlie and Aaron tomorrow.
Chapter Eight

Aaron

As I pulled into my driveway, I realized I was exhausted. The only lights were the stars and a lamp on a timer in my living
room.
I walked onto the wrap-around porch, looking at the house that was only a fantasy when I bought the land. I never imagined it
would turn into what it is today, but I couldn’t be happier with this part of my life.
I looked at the rocking chairs on the porch and imagined River and I sitting there enjoying the evening. “What the hell are you
thinking about Aaron?” I said to the darkness.
I was attracted to that man right down to my core, and as the day wore on, I couldn’t shake it. The feeling just settled around
me as I learned more about him. My dick was all in when I thought about his lean muscular body and full lips. I adjusted myself
through my jeans and opened the front door. Daisy greeted me, spinning around on the table.
It wasn’t so late that she would have started to worry, but I was sure she didn't enjoy being home alone all day. She typically
went to the construction site, perched on my shoulder, hung out in the office, or rode in her custom backpack. I figured I would
probably introduce her to Charlie later in the week, and Daisy would be able to help teach the younger dragon.
I opened my arms and tapped my chest, and she landed on my shoulder. “I brought you a treat.” I got the meat out of my bag.
“You can eat it out of the container.” She leaned into my hand while I petted her head.
“Have your dinner. I’ll cut you up some fruits and veggies.” She jumped down and started to eat.
I pulled out a cutting board in the kitchen and sliced eggplant, cucumber, strawberries, and cherries. I put a few pieces each
out for Daisy’s meal, then packed the remainder into bags and plastic containers. I was going to take River and Charlie a care
package. I hoped it would make him smile. I liked his smile a lot.
“Eat your dinner; I’ll be in the bedroom.”
I was tired but not sleepy. Taking off my clothes, I climbed into bed. Sitting there, I realized I mainly used the kitchen and
bedroom. It was interesting that River and I were similar in that part of our lives. Usually, I had a pang in my chest when I
thought about how empty it seemed. Tonight, I wondered what it would be like to have a man with dark eyes and olive skin
sharing it with me.
I thumped my head back, hoping to knock some sense into myself. I rubbed my face. Why was he in my thoughts? Sure, he
was handsome and a little quirky, and he didn't seem turned off by my lack of noticeable warmth. There was no way he would
be interested in me, plus he wasn’t the type of guy I was into anyhow. My kind of man was those who were into fishing, hiking,
and working in the dirt. Plus, I had a lot of baggage, even if I could convince him to give me a chance. That would cause him to
pass on any relationship. Maybe, though, a hookup with him would be fun. I was completely aware that I started my day
figuring I would dislike River, then ended it thinking about him in my house.
Daisy startled me out of my reverie by jumping onto the bed. She climbed up my chest and pushed her head against my chin. I
flipped her over on her back, ensuring that her wings were against her safely, and then petted her belly. She nestled into the
crook of my arm and relaxed. When I stopped rubbing, she would chitter at me until I resumed. “You are spoiled rotten.” I
laughed at her while I loved her up. After about ten minutes, I told her it was time to sleep. She walked to the other side of my
king-sized bed, jumped to the dresser, and then climbed into her cat bed, fussing and fluffing for the night.
I turned on the TV, and the light flickered across the empty half of my bed. I suddenly longed to have someone to pull against
me, someone who would be there in the morning. I wanted a warm, hard man who was athletic and strong. It would be
wonderful to have someone I could control, but someone who would do the same to me.
My mind wandered back to River and his happy trail that I couldn’t help but notice when River was with the doctor. He had
caught me looking, and he didn’t mind. Thinking about him made me hard. Wrapping my hand around my solid rod, I stroked
myself slowly from the base to the tip. River’s hands were probably strong, but the skin would be soft. He would stroke me
slowly, his thumb running over the sensitive glands, catching drops of precum. Then he would lower his head, tongue licking
the beads of liquid leaking from the tip. I groaned, thinking about his mouth on me. His full lips would look so good wrapped
around the swollen head. Closing my eyes, I thought about him pleasuring me.
Fire ripped through me as I covered my hand with ropes of come. My orgasm hit me when I thought about River taking me in
his mouth. There had never been a time that I got myself off while fantasizing about a specific man, especially one I barely
knew. Usually, I jerked off to relax by watching porn or thinking about some faceless man. Tonight, it felt like it was a
daydream that I was hoping would come true. I realized I was in big trouble.

***

I woke up on my stomach, Daisy curled up in the crook of my arm. She knew better but was spoiled and got away with
whatever she wanted. I nudged her, waking her up. She sleepily stretched her wings. Putting her head down, she pushed herself
along the comforter, then repeated it on the other side. Her always adorable morning ritual finished when she rolled on her
back and wiggled. Climbing up on the dresser, she looked at me expectantly.
“You are always hungry.” She stomped her feet in what I figured was agreement.
I climbed out of bed and headed to my closet. Usually, I wore a button-down with my company logo and a pair of jeans to
work or a T-shirt with my company logo on it. Today, I grabbed a pair of black jeans. Matt, my assistant, said they made my ass
look fabulous. River noticing my ass was something I wanted. There was a maroon T-shirt I knew was a little small; the cotton
stretched across my broad chest, and the sleeves strained at the arms. It was perfect to get a man's attention. Then I showered,
shaved, and dressed.
“What do you think, Daisy?” She stomped her feet up and down, then spun in a circle. “Well, if you approve, then it must be
good. Now let’s go.” She jumped up on my shoulder, wrapping her tail around my neck.
Pulling out the fruits and vegetables I cut up last night, I added fresh peas and green peppers, then loaded everything into a
cooler. I had a gift box of Sun Harvest special reserve wine on my kitchen table. It had two bottles of wine, numbered twenty-
three and twenty-four. There were also four crystal glasses included. I tucked it under my arm.
“I picked up my phone and called the foreman’s office. “Hey, I am on my way down. Can you hook me up?”
“It’s what I am here for,” Sarah said, hanging up without any other conversation. We were siblings. That was our thing.
I put Daisy’s harness on, then grabbed the fur-lined backpack I had for her. Daisy climbed into the bag headfirst, then righted
herself, sticking out of the top. Storing the leash in the front pocket, I opened the top zipper so she could see. I put the cooler on
the passenger seat and put Daisy in her bag beside me.
I needed to stop by the office before going to River’s. It was lucky his apartment was right by the job site. Sarah ran the day-
to-day business on our biggest project while I handled contractors, permits, and design. If you looked up and down the street
where River’s building sat, I was proud to say that I brought this part of the city back to life with the restaurants, high-rise
apartments, and office buildings.
I pulled into the dirt lot parking next to the trailer we used as a base of operation. I spent most of my time in the field or
working from the house. I put Daisy’s leash on and tapped my chest, signaling her to get up on my shoulder, and we went
inside. “How are you gorgeous?”
“I’m fantastic,” my nephew Rodney responded from the other room.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” I looked over at my sister.
“Rodney’s here for the summer. He wants to follow in his uncle’s footsteps. I told him he could work over the summer, but I
keep telling him we would prefer him to get that college education so he can be more like you. Right?”
I nodded at Sarah, then looked at Rodney. “Um, yes. School is important. I use my management degree every day. This
company isn’t going anywhere, and you can always come work here after you retire from the MLB.” He came over and bumped
my knuckles, making the explosion motion after it.
“I hear you, Uncle Aaron. You are my hero. You’re opinion matters to me.” Rodney gave me a sheepish grin.
“You always have a job with me. You need to decide what you want. You might find you like dirt better than concrete.”
The door behind me opened, and a delivery guy looked at each of us. “I have a delivery.” Sarah raised her hand, taking the
food and giving him a ten-dollar bill as a tip.
“You’re the best,” I told her as I dug through the bag, opening each item to see what was inside. I handed out the things,
finding a soup cup with bits of raw bacon and hamburger. I set that aside. On the bottom was my precious. I opened it to find a
breakfast burrito, which I had to hold with two hands. I rolled back the foil, biting into it and rolling my eyes.
I ate these so often the little diner knew my order by heart—a giant tortilla stuffed with eggs, hash browns, sausage, bacon,
and cheese. There was a spicy garlic sauce that was to die for. Damn. I should have had Sarah get one for River. He would
love it. Shaking my head, I had no idea why I was thinking about getting him something to eat like we were good friends. Once
I finished eating, I went over things with Sarah.
“Rodney, can you feed Daisy, please?” I handed him the cup with raw meat.
“Of course.” He tapped his chest, and she flew over to him.
“Heading over to see that hottie you were with yesterday?” Sarah asked as I stood up. I could feel the heat rise from my neck
to my face. “OH. MY. Aaron Gentry, you blushed. You actually blushed! You like him. I wondered why you were all clean-
shaven like you were going to a meeting and looking like a thirst trap.”
“So?” I tried not to look directly at her. She would see how uncomfortable this was making me.
“So? You haven’t liked someone since Stephen. It’s like the angels themselves are coming to bless us. I hope we start seeing
that brilliant smile from you again.”
“I smile.” I closed my eyes, knowing there was more coming.
“How long has it been? Five years? Have you dated at all? Oh, my goodness, has there been sex? I mean with a person. How
have you gone five years without sex? They do have apps. You could do the anonymous thing.” She was taking a breath, getting
ready to start more.
“Sarah, I am not having a conversation about my sex life with you. It’s weird. Stephen has been gone eight years, by the way.
Now, don’t you have work to do?”
“Seriously, it’s nice that you have an interest in someone. A lot of time has passed, and you deserve someone in your life.”
She got up and hugged me. “Are you taking Daisy with you?”
“I was hoping to leave her here with you and Rose?”
“Rose is in the back room. Rodney will keep an eye on them both.”
“Thanks for breakfast, thanks for watching Daisy, and thank you for everything you do. You can come to the same apartment
as yesterday if you need me physically.”
River’s apartment was across the street, so I grabbed the cooler and the crate and walked to his apartment building. When I
entered the building, Gary waved and met me at the elevator. He seemed much more friendly today. I guess my name held a
little weight.
Running my fingers through my hair, I felt excitement and nerves as the elevator traveled to the penthouse. I wanted River to
like what he saw. The little rainbow on the sleeping pouch he got for Charlie answered my questions about his sexuality. It was
unbelievable that I was hoping he would like me. It was the first spark in eight years. I wanted to see where this might lead.
Chapter Nine

River

After Aaron left last night, I gathered up Charlie and headed to the bedroom. “Charlie, get down.” He jumped onto the bed. Did
he just listen to me? I went into the bathroom and stared in the mirror; I looked like hell. There was a massive bruise on my
forehead that spread down my cheek. I could see another bruise on my jaw. I didn’t know how that even got there.
Pulling off all my clothes, I continued to inventory the damage I had done. I gently touched the purple skin on my hip. It was
shaped like Africa, running from above my waist to my thigh. “You did a hell of a job, didn’t you?” I said to the mirror. There
were bruises on my arm and shoulders, and I couldn’t see anything else obvious.
Having my underwear off was a huge relief. The band had been digging into the bruise all day. I scooped up Charlie and
grabbed a clean pair of sweatpants and a tank top from the closet. I was going to skip the boxer briefs. Putting Charlie down on
the bed, I dressed and pulled back the covers.
I was exhausted and sore. I took another pain pill and settled in with my tablet, figuring I better check what my clients were
up to today. There were always fires to put out when you worked with athletes. A picture in a tabloid showed a football player
cavorting with a woman who was not his wife and bar fight for a basketball player. I represented both as my clients. I sent
emails to the sponsors and athletes. There shouldn’t be too much backlash from these incidents.
I read more articles online, finding one that was interesting. Two pro hockey players came out together. They were on rival
teams, and I saw this was an opportunity for them and me. They needed an agent to help them navigate the world they had just
entered. There were more out players daily, but too often, the handlers in their lives told them to play down their sexuality. I
firmly believed they should be their authentic selves, and I knew companies that felt like I did.
Writing a quick email to Cecelia, I asked her to contact both players and find out if they would be interested in a meeting. I
was fortunate enough to be in a position where my name was well known in the industry, and a meeting with me changed lives.
Knowing that thinking was arrogant, I also knew it was the truth. I had no doubt they would take the meeting; I just needed to
decide if I would offer to represent them.
If only that confidence carried through to everything else. In my personal life, I wanted to enjoy a quiet life with Charlie and
a man who could appreciate simple things. I closed my eyes, wondering if a confident emerald-eyed man would be interested
in that type of life.
I woke up with my tablet on my lap, sitting up still. Someone was coming up the elevator, and it had to be Aaron.
“Shit…” Charlie was asleep in his pouch. I removed the leash around my wrist, grabbed a baseball jersey from my closet,
and threw it over my tank top. I looked at the mirror across the room. One benefit of sleeping while sitting up was I had no
bedhead. The bruises were darker and uglier. I didn’t look my best, and it reminded me that if he didn't like the authentic me, he
wasn’t worth my time.
I gently picked up Charlie’s pouch and walked into the kitchen. My heart was pounding, and I knew this feeling wasn't from
being jolted awake. Knowing I was about to see Aaron gave me an adrenaline rush. Yesterday, I saw how he looked at me, and
it was more than curiosity. I knew there was heat behind those green eyes. At thirty-eight, bringing a random stranger to my bed
held no appeal. I needed to feel something when I was with someone, and I wanted to find my person if I was going to invite
them into my life. I wondered what Aaron was looking for; maybe we were looking for the same thing.
Charlie started to stir in his pouch and looked up at me. I set the bag on the table, and he stepped out, stretching his wings.
He looked up and chirped happily at me. I smiled, then I tapped my chest, and he landed on my shoulder. There wasn’t going to
be time to find something to eat. I heard the doors open.
“Play it cool, River. Don’t act like a fool. Be calm.” I told myself before I turned around.
“Hi!” What. The. Fuck. I sounded like an excited schoolgirl. My brain disconnected as I gazed at the maroon fabric stretched
over Aaron’s muscular chest. He was one flex away from the shirt being useless. Today, he was clean-shaven, showing the
strong lines of his jaw and the soft spot just below. I wanted to run my tongue over that smooth skin, tasting, nipping, and
teasing until I found his mouth.
 I couldn’t find words because all the blood had rushed to one place. While I stood there gawking, I remembered too late that
I hadn’t worn underwear when I climbed into bed. Nothing was hiding my arousal from Aaron.
He looked straight at the tent in my sweatpants. Then, he ran his eyes slowly up my body until he locked eyes with me. “I’m
happy to see you too.” He raised his eyebrow and smiled.
His smile didn’t help my current situation. I was so embarrassed. My attraction was clear, and Aaron didn’t seem offended
by it. I would even say he found it fascinating. Needing to do something other than standing there giving him a show, I turned
back toward the kitchen. “Just set your stuff down, and I’ll be right out. Neither of us has eaten yet, but I figured I would talk to
you about a feeding schedule now that you are here.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go over all that with you. I brought you a couple of things, too.” I squealed internally. At least, I hoped it
was just internally. He brought me something, which meant he thought about me; this was a good sign.
“I’ll be right back. Can you keep an eye on Charlie? I need to run into my bedroom quickly.” I handed him the leash and then
left the room without a response. I suspected I would spend much of the day sporting wood and didn’t want to come across like
a horny teenager.
Putting on jeans and boxer briefs, I walked back into the kitchen. Opening the cupboard, I got out a package of toaster
pastries. I loved them, and they were my go-to breakfast. Most people liked the sweet center, but I loved the outside edges. I
didn’t even toast them. I liked them in their natural form.
Opening the foil package, I took a bite and walked into the living room, where Aaron was holding Charlie and scrolling
through his phone. He looked up. “Oh, you changed. I didn’t mind what you were wearing before.” He looked my way, then at
my zipper, before running over my body again. It felt lecherous, and I didn’t mind it.
I took another bite of my breakfast, then walked into the living room, sitting on the couch next to him. I was closer than I
would sit next to most people, but not so close we were touching.
He looked over at me. “What the hell are you eating?”
“Pwap thart.” That is what it sounded like since I was taking another bite when he asked.
“You are telling me you are a grown-ass man with money for food and choose to eat fruit-filled pastries for breakfast? It’s
not even toasted!!” I blinked at him, unsure if I should mount a defense for my go-to pastry. I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t realize
I felt so strongly about my food choices, but it appeared I did. It also put the first checkmark in the con column under Aaron’s
name.
“You are full of surprises.” He grinned at me fully, his eyes lit up. I was glad I changed my pants. I didn’t need to notify him
that his smile was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen. “I love those. Please tell me they are the strawberry ones?” He
stood up, patting his chest. Charlie climbed up to his shoulder and then they walked into the kitchen. “I hope you have more
because I am helping myself. Hot damn, they are strawberry flavored!” He returned to the couch, sitting down and closing our
gap more. Opening the package, he started eating, and then he made a low groan. “So good, right?”
I looked at him dumbfounded. How can he keep getting better? I didn’t say anything throughout that whole exchange. I felt
little fireflies in my chest, letting me know he was unique.
Chapter Ten

Aaron

Sitting on the couch, I realized I hadn’t had a toaster pastry in years. Stephen had given me a tough time about my eating habits
when we met, and I bought into his bullshit. Adults should eat a proper diet, he would tell me. That meant sliced tomato, egg
whites, and a green drink. I should have never given up on my strawberry pastries. I was realizing now that should have been a
huge red flag.
I don’t know why he had been so concerned about my diet. I started weightlifting in high school while on the football team.
By the time I was a junior, I was 6’4” with two-hundred and thirty-five pounds of lean muscle. I had kept that for decades now.
I watched my eating and made sure to go to the gym if too many days went by where I didn’t work outdoors. I stopped the egg
whites when he quit me, and now I indulged in things like breakfast burritos, but I was sure I would buy these bad boys on my
next grocery run.
River and I sat there in silence while we ate. I recalled how he was excited when he saw me. I complimented myself on the
too-tight T-shirt and clean shave. I knew I was handsome enough. I’ve had people tell me that, but I liked seeing him flustered.
Judging from what was happening in his pants, there was much to consider regarding River.
“Unless you want to take action on those dirty thoughts you’re having, we should get Charlie fed.” I grinned at him, that blush
rushing up his face.
“I. Yeah, we could. Let’s …” He stammered.
“Do you have meat?” I didn’t know how it was possible, but he turned redder.
“Oh yes, I have a lot of meat. Plenty of meat.” He realized what he said after it left his mouth.
“I’ve seen some of it. You can show me what else you have, though. We can figure out what to do with it together.” I raised
my eyebrow at him. He looked at me, his mouth open like he wanted to say something, then closed it again. “I’m talking about
feeding Charlie, just to be clear.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” He stood up. I watched him rearrange things in his pants again. He didn't even try to hide it this time.
The poor man was going to have blue balls. As I stood to follow him, I noted he probably wasn’t the only one.
In the kitchen, River had pulled out packages. Chicken thighs, breasts, a filet, ground beef, a pork chop, and bacon were
there. “You weren’t kidding. You have a large … assortment of meat.”
He shook his head. “It’s going to be a hard day, isn’t it?”
“Unless you tell me to stop, I think it will be.” I loved the double entendre, and I could tell he wouldn’t ask me to stop. I was
glad. Making River blush was my new favorite thing.
I grabbed the filet and chicken thigh. “Let’s use these to start, and Charlie isn’t going to eat all that in the next few days.
We...” I abruptly stopped talking, “You might need to cook up or freeze that other meat. Can you get me a knife and cutting
board?” As he walked across the kitchen, I looked at his broad shoulders. The tank top he wore showed his defined pecs and
abs. I swallowed hard. He had a swimmer's body, tall, defined, and firm. From what I could tell, he was around the same
height as I was, maybe an inch shorter. I knew that his body would fit perfectly against mine.
“My nephew would love that jersey. He has been considering attending college about an hour and a half from here. He had a
full-ride baseball scholarship to several universities. Making his mama happy that he picked the closer campus. Having raised
him alone, she doesn’t like the idea of him being too far away.” I realized I was babbling about my personal life. I rarely even
mentioned my blood relatives. Most people around me were my found family. My uncontrollable urge to tell River all about me
was my way of getting him to like and accept me.
I knew now that Stephen had used me to get what he wanted. I wasn’t going to fall into that trap again. Looking around, I
didn’t think River would have any need to use me for money. He was a little awkward, but I found that incredibly attractive.
Standing there, I stared at his back and broad shoulders. I stopped and looked more closely, and I was reasonably sure the
number had a signature. “Is that an autograph?”
He looked over his shoulder like he could somehow see it. “Probably. This jersey is from the Alabama Eagles, and Josh
Turner probably signed it.”
“Josh Turner, the center fielder, and two-time MVP winner? Currently one of the most important baseball players in the
league?” I blinked at him, wondering why he would wear one of his signed jerseys.
“You know him?” He walked back and handed me the things I requested.
“Everybody knows him. My nephew wants to be him. I would probably blow him to say I had his dick in my mouth.” I
laughed.
“Okay, okay, you are right. Josh is important to baseball and a good guy, too. What you see is what you get with him. I have a
meeting with him next month. Maybe I could bring him here, and you two could meet him. Offer him that blowjob, though I
think his wife would disapprove.”
“You have a meeting with Josh Turner? You’re bringing him here? Are you offering to let us meet him? Rodney would flip
out. He loves everything about baseball, but I don’t want to get his hopes up.”
“Hang on, let me just get it set up.” I knew I looked at River like he was an ice cream cone that I wanted to lick. I don’t think
he understood how much this would mean to Rodney. My nephew was such a good kid that deserved to do something special.
I needed to ask if his mom could come, too. She would kill me if she weren’t included. Ever since I tracked her down when I
was eighteen, I swore we would do everything good together. Never again will she be absent from my life. I was now her
protector even though Sarah was two years older than me. She started to defend me when she was six. When she was twelve,
the foster system split us up, and I was suddenly alone. I was in eleven foster homes from the age of ten until I aged out of the
system. There were good families, but most abused or ignored me, and others did both.
As soon as possible, I started working no matter where I was. I would go door to door, mowing lawns or shoveling snow.
When I turned sixteen, I begged the guy down the street to give me a job flipping burgers at his restaurant, taking extra shifts,
and working overtime every chance I could. That was how I got into the habit of working so hard as an adult. On my eighteenth
birthday, I had access to my foster records. I took the documents and two thousand dollars to a private investigator to find my
sister.
Even with all that, I graduated from High School with good grades, then worked for a year taking some classes at community
college. After two years, I doubled up on classes and finished my bachelor’s degree at a local university. I then got student
loans to get my master’s degree in business. I now had two successful companies on the back of those degrees.
“Ok. All set up,” River said. “Josh doesn’t mind meeting me here on the tenth, and he is okay with me having some friends
join us. It’s a Friday, so we could get dinner with him and come back here if that works for you, or I could have a chef come in
and cook for us.” I blinked at him like he spoke a language I didn’t understand.
I stalked across the room to him; I pulled him against me. As I expected, he fit perfectly. I heard a small gasp as I roughly
grabbed him, but he never pulled away. I hugged him tightly, feeling his heart beating against my chest. He relaxed and
wrapped his arms around my shoulders, tucking his head towards me. He hadn’t shaved, so the small amount of growth tickled
my neck, and the warmth of his breath on my skin gave me goosebumps. My head spun, trying to decide if kissing him now
would be too soon. He felt so right against me. While I worked out what to do next, my dick chose to take part, and I enjoyed
the physical contact of River’s hard body against mine. From what I could feel on my hip, he was just as interested.
Now wasn’t the time to kiss him. It would be too hungry, too desperate. I wanted to take my time to feel his lips, explore his
mouth, and enjoy falling into him. My opinion of wealthy men was changing, however. I hadn’t helped him get rich, so maybe
my original hate was misplaced, or this was just an exception.
I reluctantly pulled back, holding both his hands. “Thank you! My only blood relatives are my sister and nephew. Letting
Rodney meet Joshua-freaking-Turner is beyond a dream.” I grinned like a fool. My heartbeat was settling into a regular rhythm,
but the butterflies in my stomach were out in full force. I knew the flutters I felt inside had nothing to do with the dinner he set
up. They resulted from how amazing it felt to have him in my arms.
“Can I tell Rodney, or is this just tentative?”
“It’s a done deal. Josh will be here. I try to meet with my clients face-to-face several times a year. With the season wrapped
up, this is the best time to work on his endorsement contracts. Your sister is welcome to join us, too.” Looking directly at me,
he blushed, then looked away.
“Let me text Rodney quickly. Then we will get back to feeding your dragon.”
Cancel all your plans for the tenth of next month. You are going to dinner with Josh Turne
“Thank you again. I might like to give someone else that blowjob I talked about earlier.” I looked right at him, then raised my
eyebrow. He smiled, looked down, then shook his head. I watched for that telltale blush to climb up his neck. I could tell he
liked my flirting, which was good because it felt really good.
“Okay. So, Charlie is still technically a baby and needs to eat small bits of food. For now, we will chop it fine.” I showed
him a quarter-inch cube. “Ultimately, he can eat chunks about this size.” I chopped it up more, then showed River. “This is the
size he will get fed for the next few months.”
“I can do that.” He held out his hand for the knife. I handed it to him, and he cut up the chicken as I showed him.
 “Perfect. I like to give Daisy variety, as we did with the barbeque. It seems to make her happy. Honestly, they can eat
anything.”
He smirked at me. “Can they eat toaster pastries?”
“Yes. I like to feed my dragon quality meat and vegetables. It will keep them healthy, but Daisy does like her lasagna and
sweets. My suggestion is don’t overdo junk food. Their bodies are like ours, and nothing is sadder than a fat dragon that can’t
fly.”
“You’ve seen that?”
“Oh yes. I’ve run into some sad situations. Each dragon’s metabolism is different, so be mindful and figure out what works
for you two.” He nodded along with what I was saying. Without even asking, I knew that Charlie would be enjoying junk food
with River.
“If you grab that stuff from the living room, I brought you some things.” He washed his hands and returned with the cooler
and crate.
“First, the cooler is for Charlie.” I opened it up, pulling out the fruits and vegetables. “These are as fresh as you can get from
my orchard and garden.” I showed each container to River so he could see the variety. “At home, I have a place on the
countertop where Daisy has a bowl of water and her plate for meals.”
River pulled a beautiful pottery plate out of the cabinet, putting small piles of meat, cherries, and chopped eggplant. “Is this
good enough for your breakfast, Charlie?”
I took the plate from him, tapped the counter, and said, “Eat.” Charlie jumped from my shoulder and then started to pick
through the food. Letting go of the leash, I sat down at the dining table. I was confident if he tried to fly, I could grab it fast
enough.
I tapped the crate on the table. “This is for you.” I smiled at him. “It’s not much, but I figured you could use it after
yesterday.”
He slid open the box and looked at the contents. He smiled at me. “I don’t know how you knew this, but my family loves this
wine. These reserve bottles are the limited ones?” I nodded my head.
“Those are Waterford crystal wine glasses. I understand that they are a fancy brand.”
“Thank you so much. How did you get this? I can’t tell you how much we will enjoy these. My aunt asked me for some
bottles the other day when I asked her to work on her day off. Of course, they were just the red, not the special reserve. I used
it as a bribe.” He laughed. “She is my assistant but still has the upper hand on her nephew.”
“I can get you more bottles if you want. I can get you a case of anything you want: white, red, or rose. There are still some
available bottles of this reserve if you would like them. This batch is a particularly nice one.” I would get him anything he
wanted if it meant I could get to know him better.
He looked at me quizzically. “Well, I won’t turn down Sun Harvest wine, but you don’t have to.”
“It’s the least I can do after you set up dinner with Joshua.” Like I had planned it, I got a phone notification. “I need to ensure
it’s not ‘the office’. They know I am not around this week, but sometimes they still need to contact me.”
“I completely understand. If you keep an eye on Charlie, I will grab my laptop. I need to check in with my office as well.”
He stood up and walked towards his bedroom.
I looked at my phone to find a text from Rodney.
Rodneydoodle: Joshua Turner? Is he a supplier you want me to meet or something?
No, the baseball player.
Rodneydoodle: Ha, Ha, Uncle Aaron. Seriously, is this a dinner I really must attend? Sounds like you and Mom
are setting me up for an intervention.
I’m serious. You, me, and your mom will have dinner with Joshua Turner and my friend River.
I could feel when River walked into the room without looking up. I found myself drawn to him. If I hadn’t seen him blush and
become all awkward around me, I would say he was the most confident man in the world. I’ve seen him be shy and reserved,
and I like that part of him. It made me want to wrap my arms around him and protect him.
Sitting down at the table, he opened his laptop. My phone rang, and I smiled at River. “It’s Rodney. I just told him about
Joshua,” Excuse me a minute.
“Are you kidding me?? Is this real? Is this some joke??” Rodney was yelling into the phone.
River looked at me. He could hear everything Rodney was saying, and then he chuckled.
“No, I am not kidding. River has invited us to join him and Joshua for dinner. I mentioned you might be a fan and into
baseball.” I laughed at his excitement. “I’ll text you all the information, but we will be going on the tenth of next month.”
River mouthed. “You need soup?”
I looked at him, confused, forgetting I was on the phone. “What kind of soup? Is canned all right, or must we make something
from scratch?”
“You’ll need a s-u-i-t, not soup.” He said more clearly.
 “I have to go," I say half-heartedly into the phone, then hang up. I felt the warmth of his laugh in my chest. It filled all the
spots in me that had been empty.
“Why would you possibly need soup?” He looked at me earnestly, like I would have a well-thought-out answer to his
question.
“I don’t know, that's just what I thought you said. Rodney is thrilled. Thank you again for doing this. If you can think of
anything I can do for you to return the favor.”
“I can think of a few things.” He looked at my mouth, and I was at full attention. I didn’t know if that was what he was
implying, but I was completely on board if he was. Sitting down just became quite uncomfortable. I stood up, which wasn’t
much better. I walked into the kitchen and slid past River’s chair. All I know is that I wanted to pull him against me and let him
feel what he was doing to me. I longed to capture his mouth with mine, inviting him to feel the warmth of his tongue against
mine. My breathing became shallow as I considered how he would fit perfectly with me.
Tapping my chest, I said, “Up.” Charlie jumped on my shoulder. River was looking at me seriously. “What are you thinking?”
My voice came out thick and husky.
“Well. Is there a dragon babysitting service?”
“Rodney or Sarah, watch Daisy for me when she can’t go with me. If I am gone during the day, she stays with her sister,
Rose, at the office or occasionally stays home. If you need a sitter, Rodney will do anything for you since you arranged for him
to meet his baseball idol.” He blushed at me and nodded slightly. River has a tough time taking compliments, getting most
awkward when I give him one. It surprised me that he worked as a sports agent; like many people, I guessed he has the persona
used for work and the natural person friends and family see.
“Well then, let me take you on a date,” I didn’t see that coming, “I am not sure about the rules for leaving your dragon, but I
assumed since this is new to him, I couldn’t leave him unattended. Even though I read that people do, putting him in a cage
makes me uncomfortable. Can I take you out if I can get someone to watch him for the evening? It’s been a long time since I’ve
dated anybody, and it’s been a long time since I have hooked up with anybody. Now I know I’m making a fool of myself.” His
face just kept getting redder. He took a deep breath and looked away from me. His nervousness was just adorable.
I reached out to him, touched his jaw, and then got him to turn his head towards me. I was looking right at him. “Yes. I would
love to go on a date with you.”
I could physically see his body relax, and he grinned at me. His eyes sparkled, and I could see all his teeth. He was beautiful
when he smiled, and I smiled right back at him. “Let me teach you about your dragon. You should be able to leave him
unattended for up to ten hours once you have both adapted and learned.” Heading into the living room, I sat in the middle of the
sofa, forcing River to sit near me.
River sat down, not even trying to keep distance between us. His thigh was against mine, and I couldn’t stop thinking about
the heat where we were touching. Only a few millimeters of fabric kept us from skin to skin, making me crazy.
One of the fantastic things about dragons was that they only needed to be told a few times before they completely understood
what you were trying to teach them. Charlie jumped from my shoulder to the back of the couch. River tapped his chest. “Charlie
up.” I was rewarded when River smiled. They were learning together, and being part of that was fantastic.
I got a text message alert and picked up my phone to check it.
Rodneydoodle: You are for real, for real, right?
Yes, I am for real.
Rodneydoodle: Kiss that man for me. He is the greatest.
I will do just that. Soon. Can you watch his dragon for him for an evening?
Rodneydoodle: Sure, when?
“When did you want to go out?” I asked River as he whispered to Charlie. All I could make out was, “Who’s a good boy?
You’re the best boy.” My heart did little flip-flops.
“How about Friday? I’ll take you to Delizioso. How about we eat at 8 p.m.? We can arrive at 7:55 p.m., leaving here at 7:30
p.m.? You must wear your tuxedo.” I stopped to think about everything he said and figured I would need to unpack that one
thing at a time.
I texted Rodney, telling him to be here at 7:15 p.m., and I would send him the address. “Okay, you have a sitter for Charlie.”
I cocked my head at River. “Things with this date I am curious about. Delizioso is a Michelin-starred restaurant with a one-
year waiting list. How are you so certain you can get a table?” I looked at him, expecting him to realize he had made a mistake.
I didn’t care where we went, but maybe he didn’t think it through.
“I know people.” He cocked his head, teasing me.
“Okay. I have a follow-up to that one, then.” I smirked at him. “It’s a fifteen-minute ride from here to the restaurant, and you
don’t think we will have any wait time?” He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.
“I think I covered this. I know people.” He looked at me like he was expecting me to challenge him.
I sighed, figuring I might as well drop that topic, and moved on to my third question, even though I made no headway on the
other two. “How do you know I own a tux?”
“You just gave me costly wine. When you can give a gift like that to a new friend, then offer up more bottles as if it’s nothing,
certain things become clear. You are very generous and thoughtful. You are the type of person who gets invited to charity events
and galas regularly. Rental tuxedos are gross, and you strike me as someone who doesn’t wear previously worn clothes very
well.” He knew he had me on all points. He wiggled both eyebrows, making me want to grab him and kiss his face off.
“We are friends?” I looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
“That eyebrow is the death of me, Mr. Gentry. Yes, I think we are certainly friends,” I laughed.
“Okay, we need to learn more commands and discuss your future with Charlie.” We talked about training and a feeding
schedule.
“You need to put drops in his food once a week. This will stop his ability to breathe fire.”
He looked at me, horrified. “Isn’t it mean? Won’t it hurt him?”
“I honestly think burning down his home would be more traumatic. They don’t even realize that there should be flames. It
most certainly doesn’t hurt them.” He looked relieved.
“Where does Daisy sleep? What does she sleep in?”
“Daisy has cat beds all around my house. At bedtime, she sleeps in my room in her bed.”
“When will I get to meet her?” I smiled at all his questions.
“I’ll be able to bring her over later this week. You’re cute when you get excited.” He turned his head from me. I could see
the tips of his ears turn red. “I’ll be here every day this week. Next week, I’ll stop by for a few days and always be available
on the phone.”
There was a shift in his face. His eyes got glassy. “Excuse me.”
He stood up and walked swiftly out of the room.
Chapter Eleven

River

When Aaron reminded me that he would only be here a couple of days next week, I could feel that all too familiar stinging
behind my eyes. I was a crier, but this would be the second time in twenty-four hours.
I should have thicker skin since I had a big family and four older brothers. As the youngest sibling, I spent my childhood and
adolescence with my mama and nonna, which made me a little too sensitive.
Honestly, I should have been chastising myself for getting attached so quickly. Nothing had happened other than that hug that
changed my life forever. I still felt his arms wrapped around me. I recalled how he smelled like shaving cream, soap, man, and
nothing extra. While my head was resting on his shoulder, I had to resist the urge to run my tongue over his skin. I could feel his
arousal as he held me longer than expected for two casual friends. I didn’t mind the extra time because I could have stood
forever soaking him in.
I looked at myself in the mirror. Charlie chirped happily on my shoulder; having him around felt natural. I then thought about
Aaron. I knew it had been only two days, but those butterflies in my stomach didn’t seem to care. I still couldn’t believe he
gave me such an elaborate gift. My brother had tried to get bottles of their reserve stock, a batch of only five hundred bottles. I
knew private collectors acquired half of the bottles. The other bottles were in the free world. You might find them at auctions
or in the back rooms of exclusive wine bars, but we never did get a bottle. Cecelia would be beside herself. I knew Aaron
would quickly become her favorite non-Italian. I still couldn’t believe he had two bottles and had given them to me.
There was a certain comfort in knowing that Aaron had arrived with the crate before I mentioned Joshua Turner. I’ve had too
many men and women try to buy a friendship with me when they wanted to get an introduction to an athlete or use me for my
bank account. Rarely did I introduce athletes to people, but it felt natural to offer it to him. Aaron didn't care much. He was
more excited about doing something for his nephew. That was one more pro on the list of reasons to like Aaron.
I regained control over my emotions and returned to the living room. I sat down, chuckling. “You need soup. For real?”
He pushed me with his shoulder. “It’s not that ridiculous. I thought maybe it was some sort of charity event or something.”
I sat back down, feeling all the places I had damaged yesterday. The worst part was the tight waistband of my jeans and
underwear. They were digging into the bruised flesh, and the pain was becoming distracting.
“Okay, here is my problem.” I had to get this out before I died of embarrassment. Aaron looked at me, almost worried.
“I got to take off these jeans and probably my underwear. I think they are making the bruises on my hip and waist more …
bruise-y.”
“That’s not even a word.” He said, then smirked.
“It is now.” I looked at him awkwardly, plowing on. I can’t believe I have to say this, but it’s the elephant in the room. “I like
you, and my body is a big fan too. If we are in the same room, there will be times when I… I…salute you.” I shake my head.
That was the best I could come up with. Fucking salute you? I looked down at my lap, and I could feel my face going beet red. I
finally lifted my head.
“Well.” He drew the word out. “Just know I will salute you back when you salute me.” He looked right at me with the utmost
sincerity. I put my head down and grinned.
“Okay then.” I stood up and walked into my bedroom. I pulled off my jeans and saw that my whole hip looked angry. The
bruise had spread across my stomach muscles and further down my thigh. “Good grief,” I muttered to myself. It looked terrible.
I pulled on a pair of pajama pants covered with vacationing flamingos. I never much cared what people thought of my
clothes; suddenly, I became self-conscious. Again, I reminded myself that if they didn’t like the person I was, they didn’t need
to be part of my life. I’ve never changed for others before. I wasn’t going to start doing it now.
I went through the bedroom into the kitchen, pulled out a pot, and started to boil water. I needed to eat. After our
conversation yesterday, I knew someone who was Aaron’s size needed constant fueling, so I decided to make enough for us
both.
I returned from the kitchen and found Aaron looking at his phone. He had the same look I get when dealing with something
that needed resolving. I walked in and sat down without interrupting.
He looked up. “Feel better?”
“You don’t even know. It’s so tender, and I swear it’s getting bigger by the hour.” I realized too late what I had just said. He
beamed at me. I continued clumsily. “I couldn’t believe how I had hurt myself so much in an hour.”
“It was only twenty-five minutes.” He grinned and stuck the tip of his tongue out.
“Okay, smarty pants.” I thought about Charlie and how he was so scared yesterday. “How come he is so calm now compared
to yesterday?” I wondered if maybe my dragon was ill or I had done some damage to him, and he was depressed.
“Confidence has a lot to do with it. Your being nervous around him made him nervous around you. From what you told me,
you were startled, and he then mirrored your reactions. You are the first human he has been with for any length without his
parents close by.” I realized Aaron had been with him almost as much—another mark in that pro column. Charlie was probably
bonding with him, too.
“You will be surprised how quickly he learns. He has already learned up, down, come, stay, and eat. You can now use those
words in sentences and visual cues with or without the words.”
While he was talking, he was still looking at his phone. His forehead was creased like he was concentrating. I wanted to rub
the creases away with my fingers.
I stood up. “I’m going to make us all some lunch.”
“Sounds great. What are you making?”
“Pasta! I am Italian, after all. We like pasta as often as possible.” I walked into the kitchen.
“Done,” Aaron announced as he put down his phone and seemed to relax. Then he just leaned back and watched me. How
could his gaze get me so hot and bothered? When I looked into his eyes, I could see nothing but lust.
“Is everything okay?” I almost squeaked when I asked him. It appeared when I was turned on, I had difficulty speaking.
“Seems like the machines are running smoothly. I had some contractors with questions. I have two more bottles of that
reserve stock on the way over. I sent Rodney your address for Friday. You have my full attention until at least dinner time.” He
gave me one of those smiles that lit up his entire face. Those eyes still held fire, but there was delight there, too, and it was so
incredibly sexy.
I felt the dancing butterflies as I finished lunch. I took two of the pottery bowls down. It had taken weeks to find just the
perfect dishes. I was more inclined to want to live on a farm with no neighbors for miles. However, I chose to live in this
apartment because being in the city made more sense. I would invite clients and sponsors over. Everything was clean lines and
tidy. In my business, clients expect you to have a particular style. Nobody ever saw my dishes, though. These were for me.
I chopped up meat for Charlie and put it on a plate. I dropped my shoulder, “Charlie down. Go ahead and eat.” He jumped to
the table, looking at me curiously. “Charlie, eat.” He blinked once, then walked over to the plate. “You are such a good boy.
You are my best boy.” I ran a hand down his head and body.
I grabbed two bowls and filled them with lunch. I carried them both into the living room. I handed the bowl and a fork to
Aaron. “Bon Appetit’.”
He looked at the bright orange noodles in the bowl. “Is this blue box macaroni and cheese?” He looked at me, cockeyed.
“Well, yes, yes, it is. Name brand and everything just for you. If you play your cards right, I will invite you for dinner, and
you can enjoy pizza rolls.” I grinned at him.
“You eat like a fourteen-year-old. I’m impressed that you keep a body like that and eat food like this.” He pointed to the
bowl. “I need to learn your secrets.” Running his eyes up and down my body, then taking a fork full of pasta. “Damn, this shit is
good, I don’t know why I ever stopped eating it.” He took another mouthful. “Thank you, River, for making my lunch.”
The man just thanked me for fixing him boxed mac n’ cheese. The little butterflies in me were becoming more persistent,
feeling more like hummingbirds. I didn’t think it was a bad thing at all. I just wasn’t sure what to do with them.
Chapter Twelve

Aaron

River took our bowls into the kitchen; Charlie watched him from the counter. When River got close, Charlie started doing a
little stomp dance that dragons do when they want attention. Without thinking, River tapped his chest and said up. Charlie flew
up, perching on his shoulder. I liked that they were starting to have a natural rhythm between them.
I watched him walk into the living room. His body was everything my fantasies were full of, even with his slight limp from
the injured foot. “Did you change the dressing on that foot today?” I asked.
“No. I figured I would do it this evening before bed.”
“I’ll help you if you want to do it now. Might be easier with someone else than trying to wrap it alone.” I was making an
excuse to touch him. I ached to feel the warmth of his skin, and by his smirk, I could tell he didn’t buy the reason any more than
I did. I knew he felt the attraction between us. I just wanted to get closer to him, and I was going to make up reasons to do so.
He blushed. “You’re probably right. Let me go get the gauze.”
When he returned, he had everything needed to clean and rewrap his foot. Charlie rode around on his shoulder as if they had
always been companions.
Sitting next to me, River put his foot on his knee so he could take care of the old bandages. He hadn’t assumed I was going to
touch him even though I had suggested helping him. It was sweet how awkward he could be. It continued to surprise me that he
was a sports agent. They had to be highly aggressive to handle negotiations and have an iron fist to manage their clients. The
River I saw was neither of those things. He had quiet confidence with a little shy awkwardness.
“Here. Let me do that for you.” I waved to the end of the couch.
He patted the back of the couch and dipped his shoulder. “Charlie down. Take a nap or something,” I chuckled. Charlie
jumped to the place River had tapped, then curled himself up.
“We need to shop later and get him some proper beds. It will give him a little safe spot for sleeping.”
“That would be great.”
“Right now, though, let me help you with this. Give me your foot.” He sat with his back against the arm of the couch, his feet
towards me. I had him put the bandaged foot up on my thigh. I pushed up the leg of his pants and put my hand on his shin,
knowing there was no reason for this, but I had to touch him. We both knew he could handle this independently, but we would
pretend my help was necessary.
I gently removed the old dressing. “Your stitches look good, and the cut doesn’t seem infected.” I wiped the row of stitches
gently with alcohol, being more thorough than necessary since I did not want to move my hand from his leg. I was making
excuses to feel the warmth of his skin. His heat warmed me from where I was touching him down into my core. I slowly
wrapped everything, being careful. Everything was cleaned and covered.
I realized I liked caring for him in this little way. I felt like all I wanted to do was tend to this awkward man, coaxing out of
him those smiles that made my heart flutter and laughs that made me shiver. I sat there holding his leg, not wanting to break
contact.
“Since I am doctoring, I should look at all your injuries, don't you think?” He cocked his head a little, then smirked. I smiled
back, raising my eyebrow.
“I agree doctoring is serious business; you must do a comprehensive review.”
“Stand up, let me see your hip.” I was completely into this little game we started and suddenly nervous. River was the first
man that I had any reaction to in years. Even though many things in my head are very naughty, I also wanted to get to know him
better.
He stood up in front of me while I sat on the couch. “Lift your shirt, please.” Following my directions, I looked at the angry
bruise from the edge of his rib cage, under his waistband, and across his stomach muscles. “How far down does it go?”
“Let me show you the whole thing.” He looked at me. I could see that his pupils were full, and I had only touched his leg. He
shrugged off the jersey, then pushed the side of his sweats down, showing me his hip. The fabric bunched around his extremely
hard cock that we were both pretending wasn’t there.
“That looks like it hurts. Can I touch it?” I pushed up the edge of his tank top.
“You’re the doctor. I think the only way for you to get an idea of how bad it is would be to examine it.” He said his voice
was heavy and thick.
I reached out and ran my fingers lightly over the purple skin. I brushed down the hip bone, following the deep V to where
there was an ugly bruise on his lower abs. Goosebumps formed over the areas where my fingers teased him, running my hand
back up his hip and across his ribs. His breathing became uneven when I flattened my hand and rubbed it across his front. The
muscles there tightened as I explored with my fingers. I wanted to run my lips over the ridges of his eight-pack and kiss my way
down that happy trail. “I should probably compare both sides to check for swelling. See if there is a noticeable difference
between them.”
Putting my other hand next to the first, I felt his muscles ripple under my touch. Running my hands up his abdomen to his
chest, I could feel him take a deep breath. Every inch I touched caused me to feel sparks from his skin into my flesh. His entire
body was firm, developed, and masculine. Moving my palms up both sides, feeling him shudder everywhere I touched his
body. I sucked in a deep breath.
“Everything feels perfect to me.” I looked up at him. He stared at me, his eyes hooded, his lips slightly parted.
I could see the blush running from his chest up to his ears. “I’ll probably need to take a better look after my full examination,
though. I should look at your forehead. Since it was injured yesterday in the kerfuffle.”
“That’s what you are calling it?”
“Do you have a better definition?” I stood up, my hands never leaving his torso. He didn’t step back; our bodies were maybe
two inches apart. Standing up, we stood eye to eye. I was 6’4”, which was good-sized but not abnormal. Still, most men were
shorter than me, and his being nearly the same height just added to my attraction.
Usually, I was taller and more muscular when I was with someone. Because of that, men expected that I would be the
dominant one in the bedroom. I liked to have a man bottom out inside me as much as I wanted to bury myself in them. I felt like
there was an equality of strength between me and River.
I quietly growled when I thought about how much I would like that dynamic. I was highly interested in what things would be
like without that predefined power difference. When our eyes locked, everything I saw in their depths just drew me in deeper. I
knew River had heard my growl, and I wanted to follow through. Reaching up, I touched the bruise on his forehead. It looked
angry, even though the swelling was going down. “Does it hurt?” He shook his head.
I slowly ran my knuckles down his face, my thumb tracing over his lips. I noticed a bruise on his jaw that I didn’t see
yesterday touching the darkened spot. Never taking my eyes away from his, all I could see was desire, lust, and need. I swear I
could hear both of our hearts pounding, and then I moved my mouth impossibly close to his.
“I salute you, too,” I whispered to him. Our lips were millimeters apart. His length was unrestrained against my hip, and my
arousal throbbed excruciatingly in my jeans. I wanted this man so entirely right now. I couldn’t recall a time I had such
unbridled longing. River did things to me that I had never felt before. Moving my hand forward, hooking under his chin
carefully, I guided his mouth until our lips touched.
The second there was contact, my whole body lit up. River’s mouth pressed against mine, and I melted into him. This was
not like any kiss I had before. I felt it in my core. A groan escaped from inside me that I had no control over. I needed to
explore his mouth, using my tongue to part his lips gently. I was drawn further into him as each moment passed. I wrapped an
arm around his waist and pulled him tightly against me. Our cocks lined up, pressing against each other. I cursed the fabric that
separated us.
His mouth opened to me, and our tongues tangled with each other. There was no hurry, no rush. His hand ran up to the back of
my head, not pulling me to him but holding me in place. He moaned into my mouth. There was a painful throbbing in my pants
when a lightning bolt traveled from my balls, looking for release. Drawing him tighter against me, we fit perfectly together like
puzzle pieces. I unconsciously rutted against him, seeking friction to relieve the ache.
All I could do was vocally respond as he nipped at my lips before he dove in for more. I pulled back breathlessly. My focus
was on the thick, hard shaft pushing against me. My desire for him only multiplied.
“Kissing you is incredible.” I rested my forehead against his.
“I want you,” he whispered, afraid of breaking the spell.
“I want you,” I whispered back. “Not today, though. I want to know much more before we have each other’s bodies. It will
happen, River. I will touch every inch of you. I like you, and I need to do this differently with us. I want to feel all the things
that I always put aside. I want to be purposeful in getting to know you physically, mentally, and emotionally.”
I dared to look at him while he was processing what I said, but when our eyes met again, the same desire I had seen a
moment ago was there.
“Can we kiss a little more? You know, to make sure?” I liked how he was thinking. More kissing sounded terrific to me.
“What are we making sure of?” I asked, wondering if I missed something.
“We are making sure I don’t have any major injuries that have gone undiagnosed.” I pulled him hard against me and claimed
his mouth again. Oh, hell yeah, I was more than happy to make sure he was okay if it involved more of what we started.
He pushed his hips against me. Instinctually, his body was seeking mine. I moved so my ass was braced against the arm of
the sofa bringing River with me.
I had no idea if dry humping counted against my grand plan, but there was no avoiding where this was going. As I was
grinding against River, he mirrored my movements. The only thing I could process was how amazing his mouth felt and how
hard he was against me. Running my hand up the back of his neck, careful to avoid the stitches, I grabbed a handful of hair, then
moved his head to get to his throat's warm, soft skin, kissing along his jaw and just under his ear. I bit each spot lightly, then
licked and kissed the area again.
The sounds of pleasure coming from him rocketed through me. There was a fire inside me lighting up every nerve ending. I
had to consciously stop myself from reaching between us, feeling an orgasm bearing down on me even though I had done
nothing but rut against him. This rhythm we were creating was going to make me lose control.
I could see in his eyes that he was close and feeling the same. We were going to tumble over the edge together. I kissed his
neck, breathing in his scent, feeling a ball of lightning pool in my gut.
“Oh. Fuck. Aaron. Fuck.” River’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, lost in ecstasy; watching him come undone was the
most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. My release hit me a heartbeat after his. I closed my eyes and buried my head into his shoulder
while pleasure cascaded over me. Holding on to him while wave after wave flooded me. It felt like forever and nothing all at
the same time. As my head cleared a little, my legs started to shake. Sinking to the couch, I brought him down with me. Looking
at him, I hauled his mouth to mine. I never experienced arousal from mostly kissing and a small amount of rutting. It appeared
this man was my undoing.
I smiled, recalling what a friend said about his wife. He claimed that he suddenly felt complete the first time he kissed her. I
wondered if this was what he had meant because I was catching feelings, and they weren’t just the kind that led me to bed.
These were the risky ones.
Chapter Thirteen

River

I stared at Aaron, the emerald in his eyes shining after they were dark a few minutes ago. My sweatpants were sticky, and I
wasn’t embarrassed, even though I hadn’t come in my pants since I was an insecure teenager. It didn't feel awkward as a weird,
quirky adult. What we had just done was one of the most intense sexual experiences of my life. Kissing him wasn't only
arousing; it was a promise of more. Somewhere inside me, I felt like he had given me something I hadn't felt in years: hope.
At first, I was disappointed he didn’t want to take me to bed; however, as I let his words sink in, I liked that he wanted more
than hooking up, which was easy. He wanted to do it the hard way and get to know me. My heart was on board with doing this
slowly, even if other parts of me protested.
I had any number of men that I could hook up with. There were even professional athletes, but I had outgrown those hookups
years ago, precisely on my thirty-second birthday. A gorgeous baseball player was ready to wrap his lips around me in his
hotel suite. At that moment, I realized I was just not interested. I zipped up and walked out of the room. The man I had been
with was still on his knees, looking at me shocked. He would never be a client, but I did gain something valuable. I realized I
was happy alone, and if I decided to have someone join my life, it would be because I wanted them there, not out of a
misguided need. Since then, I had many offers, but I always declined. It was just not something I was interested in anymore. I
was over anonymous orgasms. If I invited a man into my life, I wanted something more, even if I wasn’t sure how that looked.
Aaron was the first man I had even considered hooking up with, but I also felt an emotional connection. My heart fluttered,
knowing he wanted more than just sex.
I came back to the present and started to grin. I couldn’t recall having a sexual encounter that good ever. It felt so different
than just getting off. All we did was kiss and use friction while completely clothed. When my orgasm hit me, I had seen sparks
behind my eyes and would swear I nearly blacked out. I couldn’t help but wonder how things would be if we had removed our
clothes; I couldn’t wait until we had that opportunity.
“What are you grinning about?” He asked me, raising an eyebrow.
“Stop with the eyebrow.” I teased him.
“I can’t. It just happens!”
“So that was fun! Do you think I have any undiagnosed injuries?” I attempted to ask him with a straight face.
“No injuries, but I might need to do another full examination again just in case.” He grinned at me foolishly, leaning to give
me another soft kiss. “Your health is of utmost importance.”
“Come with me, and I can get you some clean clothes.” Maybe this would allow me to get a good look at all of him.
He beamed at me. “I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but our body types differ. Don’t get me wrong, your body is fabulous. I
want to explore every inch of it with my hands. I want to run my tongue over each ripple of your eight-pack, but we have
different builds.”
I smiled. “Well, sir, come with me.” I tapped my shoulder. “Charlie up.” Charlie jumped up and settled in. My little dragon
seemed oblivious to what had just taken place. I reached out and grabbed Aaron’s hand.
Standing with me, we walked to the second bedroom, which was my home office. If anybody came in, they would assume I
was a sports memorabilia collector. In all honesty, it was stuff that had accumulated over the last fifteen years from various
clients, potential clients, companies looking for a spokesperson, or companies that had thanked me for bringing them a client.
One wall was floor-to-ceiling shelves of sports items. There were jerseys, balls, helmets, stacks of trading cards, and
posters. There were items with signatures from every sport, from sumo wrestling to a player who scored thirty-two points last
night at Madison Square Garden.
I’ve had as many as fifty clients at a time, which is the most I like to handle at once; currently, I have forty-four. My roster
changes, losing athletes for various reasons, including scandals, injuries, or retirement. I’ve had three athletes go to another
agency, and all of them wanted to return to me after they were gone six months. One of my brothers works part-time for Hot
Shots. He managed those professionals whose trajectories have peaked and are on the way down. I never felt right about letting
them go if they still wanted representation, so this was a great solution. They were still on the company roster, but I could work
with those more active ones. I paid Forest a monthly salary to support and handle anything that came up, and I rewrote the
contracts so any profit athletes make goes into their pockets. Hot Shots is the go-to agency. I picked who I wanted to work with,
and those who signed with me got rich outside their chosen sport. Sponsorships are where sports stars can make money. I’ve
made a whole lot of it for everyone.
The other wall had matching shelves filled with merchandise. There was every kind of sports equipment, coffee cups,
kitchen appliances, and weapons. You could name anything, and it's somewhere on the shelves or has been rejected and sent to
charity. I always reviewed products before pitching them to clients. Cecelia goes through all the boxes I have shipped to me.
She sorted through the items to see if there was anything I would want, then donated anything rejected. More items were
rejected than accepted. This room also had a huge walk-in closet filled with other merchandise.
I tugged Aaron into the closet, and we looked around. “Most of these are probably closer to your size than mine. I am tall and
lean, whereas you are tall and delightfully muscular. Clothes sent to me seem to be for football players or bulkier athletes.”
I turned around slowly. “Look at all this crap. You can help yourself to whatever you want, then you can change.” I looked
him up and down. “I could sit and watch you try on a few things.”
He groaned. “I’m sticking to going slow. Me having no clothes on will not help.” He grinned at me, doing a little wiggle.
“Not helping. There is a shower if you want to clean up. Jockey sends me all kinds of underwear, so help yourself.” I gave
him another long, lustful look, then walked away. I closed the door and leaned against it when I got to my bathroom. Aaron was
unraveling me one thread at a time.
“You want a shower, Charlie?” I had no idea if this was even a thing, but I figured it wouldn’t harm him. I pulled a plastic
trash liner from under the sink. I covered my foot with a bag, wrapped athletic tape around the top, and added two rubber
bands.
I stepped in and turned on the water to warm, tapping the bench in the shower. “Down, Charlie.” He flapped onto the bench. I
expected him to tuck in his wings. Instead, he extended them, then turned his back to the water. I wasn’t sure if he was
protecting himself from the mist or enjoying it. He seemed okay, though, so I left him. I assumed as a dragon, he would fly away
if he had a problem.
I peeled my crunchy pants off and pushed them over into the corner, then added the jersey. I stepped into the warm water; I
watched as Charlie started to do his little dance. He was very happy.
“Oh. So, you like the water then?” He ducked his head into the spray and stomped his feet. As I ran my hands over my
stomach, I couldn’t help but remember how Aaron’s mouth felt, how it was so intimate. My body was alerted to the memories,
and blood rushed south, making me hard again. I mentally gave myself a high-five for the quick recovery, knowing it was about
the man who held my interest and not my body being young. I had to focus on getting clean, not how much I wanted to see his
mouth wrapped around me. Stopping my fantasies was proving to be difficult.
Rinsing all the soap from the tile floor, I sat down. I checked the water, making sure it wasn’t hot. “You want to get washed
off?” I patted the bottom of the shower. “Come on down then.”
He jumped down more directly under the shower stream. He opened his wings wide, letting the water come down over them,
then jumped up and down. I wasn’t an expert on dragons, but he seemed to enjoy himself. Grinning, I sat there and watched him
splash and play, filling my hands and then splashing him with it. I laughed after he jumped up and down some more.
As I sat playing with Charlie, I realized I was genuinely happy, and it wasn’t just satisfaction with doing a job well. I got an
adrenaline rush when I closed a deal or signed a client, but it never really made me happy. This little dragon made me happy.
He made me feel needed and fulfilled. Charlie would depend on me for survival, and I knew I would rely on him to help me
when I felt alone.
I thought about how nice it would be to have Aaron around, too. He was wiggling his way into my emotions, but I wasn’t
sure where that would lead. Charlie was now my family. I know people would think I was ridiculous calling him that. Those
weren’t people I needed. I knew I got awkward when I wasn’t using my agent persona. It was exhausting having to be ‘on’ for
business reasons. Charlie would never care that I was just a quiet guy who didn't want much more than hanging out at home.
“Let’s go. My butt hurts from sitting here so long.” I turned off the shower and stepped out. Charlie shook himself and danced
around in a circle. Grabbing a couple of towels, putting one down for him to stand on, then fluffed one up.
“Alright, get up here and dry off.” I patted the towels. He flew up and started rubbing himself on the cloth. I gently covered
his head with another towel, hearing him chirp many times. I could see him spinning in circles underneath like he was trying to
nest. I knew he had laid down when I saw him flip the towel up, and his head stuck out, watching me while I dried off and
dressed.
I put on another pair of pajama bottoms with no underwear and a hockey jersey. I removed the plastic bag and put my feet
into sheepskin slippers. I might as well be comfortable. “Let’s go, Charlie.” He climbed out from under the towel and flew up
onto my shoulder.
I could hear Aaron talking and assumed he was on the phone. Thinking about it, I should make phone calls myself since I
have neglected work the last few days, even though Cecelia would call if needed. I knew this was the first time I had taken any
time off in about five years. I arranged my schedule to minimize the time I would be out of town. Visiting sponsors or clients
would be crammed into a few days each month. Occasionally, I found someone I wanted to work with, like the professional
hockey players who just came out as a couple. For a client like that, I would arrange to see them to discuss their opportunities
working with Hot Shots. I was home doing business on the phone the rest of the time.
Since Aaron was busy, I wanted to gather a few things for Aaron’s nephew and sister. Looking through the sports
memorabilia shelf, I found a bunch of baseball items. I had hats, shirts, bats, and various other things, grabbing anything that
Joshua Turner autographed but also some items signed by people like Raymond Fendi, who was an all-star the last eight years,
and Edward Padillo, who has hit five-hundred home runs. Any baseball player would know who these players are. Then I
grabbed three hoodies, polo-style shirts, ball caps, key rings, coffee cups, backpacks, and pens, all emblazoned with the Hot
Shots logo. Packing a set of branded items into each bag, I smiled. I grabbed one of our leather jackets, folded it neatly, and put
it in the backpack I filled for Aaron; I hoped he liked it.
I put all the baseball stuff into Hot Shot gift bags so he could take everything. It made me smile to make little care packages
for his family and something special for him.
I headed to the living room with Charlie on my shoulder and my hands full. Aaron turned around while still talking on his
phone. His eyes got wide as he saw me carrying my haul.
Chapter Fourteen

Aaron

“Thanks for everything. You’re the best.” I said to my sister as I saw River come from the office. “Did you go shopping? Is
there a back door I wasn’t aware of? It did seem to take you a while in the shower.”
River shook his head. “No. I just gathered some goodies together, company swag for you, your sister, and your nephew.
Shirts, hats, that kind of thing, nothing much really.” He held up the three backpacks. The sizes are different: large for Rodney, I
was guessing, medium for your sister, and XL and XXL for you. “I tied a blue ribbon on Rodney’s and a pink one on Sarah’s so
you could tell them apart.”
“You didn’t have to do that. Rodney told us all about Hot Shots when he was looking at a possible career in the MLB. I am
sure they will wear all of it quite proudly.”
He looked at me and panicked. “How did you know my company?” It was almost like he thought I was spying on him.
“Well,” I said very slowly, as if I was approaching a scared animal. I stepped on a trigger here. Being transparent was going
to be the best way to manage this. “There are Hot Shots coffee cups in your kitchen. You have stacks and stacks of Hot Shots
merch sitting behind your desk, and lastly, you have a seven-foot sign on the wall behind your desk that says Hot Shots literally
in neon.”
“Oh, for fucks sake River.” He chastised himself. “Not every man that shows interest in you has an ulterior motive.” His eyes
got huge when he looked up and realized he had spoken aloud. I didn’t comment on what he had said.
“Come here, River.” I had not moved from when he first came back from his shower. His head was down as he came over to
me. It seemed he was embarrassed about how he responded. “Will you sit next to me for a minute?”
He sat down with me, and I took one hand, then the other; he shifted his hips and was forced to face me. “Can I get you to
look at me for a minute?”
He looked up at me from underneath his long lashes. “I want you to understand that I feel very strongly towards you. I want to
take you to bed and do dirty things with you. I need you to know that I am not trying to cash in on your success; I’m not trying to
get something from you. Okay, I might try to get some more orgasms from you.” He laughed, then gave me a brilliant smile. I
felt it down to my toes; I wanted to make him smile like that all the time.
I stroked the back of his hands with my thumbs, “River, I understand your concerns very well. I was hurt by someone being
dishonest with me. I am terrified of it happening again, but I’ve been scared long enough. I will put myself out there and see
what happens with you.”
I kissed him on his forehead. “Do you want to tell me what is in the other bags?” He stood up and all but dug his toe in the
ground. “Yeah, I do. After what I just said, it seems ridiculous, but you know how it is. I can’t always get my head and
emotions to work together.”
I nodded. “I’m all too familiar with that particular turmoil,” I remembered how I would’ve taken Stephen back to have his
son in my life. If I had known what was going to happen, I would’ve kept throwing money at Stephen so I could raise the boy
who had become my son. Those thoughts needed to stop. What was starting between River and me was new and fragile. My
past couldn’t fracture my future.
“I got memorabilia for your nephew. Most of this stuff has been just sitting on the shelves collecting dust.” He then
proceeded to show me all the things he intended to give to Rodney.
“You can’t give him all this stuff. I’m not familiar with the memorabilia market, but I know enough that this is worth a lot of
money. “
“Aaron, you love him. I like you, and doing something nice for someone makes me happy. Think of it as my love language.
From the little you have said, it seems you have helped to make him the person he is now. I know he wouldn’t want to profit
from these items because I can tell you aren’t that type of person. I suspect he would return anything he didn’t want.”
“I like to think that he is that type of man. He'll probably get a collectible case and make his mother put it somewhere
everyone can see.” I shook my head. “Sarah will fight him on it until I explain what exactly you’ve given him.”
 “That is good enough for me. I have so much signed stuff it is embarrassing. I don’t even display it. You saw me wearing an
autographed jersey. It’s not my thing, and I only enjoy watching hockey. Passively, I pay attention to sporting events; it’s out in
the wild, as I call it, that matters to me. What they wear, who they date, and where they go all have the potential for them to
profit. I am good at what I do and wouldn’t trade it. I love negotiations and helping athletes set themselves up for their futures. I
love that I can retire at fifty if I want. Then I can buy a vineyard and have a little winery like that Sun Harvest brand.”
I nearly choked when he said that. He looked at me quizzically. “You, okay?”
“Air down the wrong pipe,” I gasped out.
“I want to live somewhere out of the city in a space that makes me more comfortable. This whole apartment isn’t my style;
it’s beautiful, but I’m not a concrete jungle type of guy. I must convey a certain image in my business.” I thought about what
style might be his. The pottery dishes he had would go quite well with my décor. I needed to bring him to my house to see what
he thought.
Never had I been so glad that Stephen had never lived there. We had an apartment in the city. I had found the vineyard and
bought it without talking to him, knowing when he saw it, he would love it. I wanted to split our time between the city and the
vineyard. The fact he left before I had closed on the property now brought me joy.
Once he was gone, I couldn’t sell the apartment in the city fast enough. I was looking forward to being in the country, me,
Daisy, and miles of grapes. The winery was a few miles down the road, close enough for me to be involved but not so close
that it intruded on my peace. I wondered if a sweet, awkward Italian man might want to walk among my grape vines with me.
“Let me pay you for the items?” I looked at him expectantly, still feeling a pang of guilt about such an extravagant gift.
“I’ll take payment from you, but not in the way of cash.” He looked down, then up slowly, and when I caught his eye, he
quickly looked away again. He was so quirky it made my heart flutter; he was incredibly adorable, making other things wake
up.
“I will see what I can do to arrange that. You better start a list so nothing gets forgotten.” My mind went through so many
filthy options my cock twitched, which at once reminded me that I hadn’t put any underwear on.
“You should know I decided to show solidarity and didn’t wear underwear.”
He smiled at me and then looked at my lap. “I don’t mind.”
I didn’t think about the fact I was half-hard the whole time we were in the same room. Not to mention how quickly things
escalated in my head. Fortunately, I had picked black sweats with some name-brand down the leg, so my arousal wasn’t too
noticeable. The pants were extremely comfortable and did great things for my ass, and I grabbed something that looked like a
hockey jersey, but the inside had a cotton lining, so it wasn’t as scratchy as authentic jerseys and was warmer.
“Sit with me. I must leave in a few hours. Daisy is probably missing me. I've been here most of the day. There are things I
want to help you get for Charlie.” I moved over a little, hoping he would sit close to me but giving him the choice to leave
space.
He sat right next to me. Our bodies touched from shoulder to knee. I turned and looked at him, unable to keep myself from
smiling.
“Oh, the stuff I am sending home with you distracted me from the real story.” He grinned. “It’s what took me so long in the
shower.”
I thought maybe he was replaying what had happened between us. It was foremost in my mind while I washed the evidence
of our intimacy off. Even now, I longed for the feeling of his tongue tangled with mine. I wanted to explore his body with my
hands and my mouth. I was aroused again already, but I suspect that I would have to get used to this when River was near me. I
had to shake my head a little to refocus on our conversation.
“I don’t know if this is okay, but I showered with Charlie.”
“Of course, it’s okay. As a dragon, he would leave if he was uncomfortable. If you keep your energy calm, we won’t have
more situations like yesterday.” I felt like I wasn’t explaining it well, but he nodded as if he understood.
“He stomped his feet and flapped his wings. Then he started his little dance.” River’s enthusiasm was contagious.
“You two are getting along so well already. Surprising, you survived without a dragon, right?”
“He reached up and petted Charlie. I love him.”
“This is exactly how it's supposed to work. You two bond.” I looked at my watch, needing to get going. I grabbed my phone
and opened the browser.
“Yeah. I am amazed at how natural it already feels.” River smiled, and warmth spread through me. I was already addicted to
him.
“This is not required. I think you should get some beds for Charlie to go into during his downtime. Nothing is wrong with
him sleeping on the back of the couch or your lap.” I looked down at the sleeping dragon on River’s lap. His hand
unconsciously petted his back.
“Some ‘caves’ would be good when you have clients here or want to cook and have him out of the way. Perhaps when you
are distracted with other things.” I raised my eyebrow at him. Just the thought of those things brought my dick on board. He
looked at me, his eyes filled with heat.
 I wanted to pull him to me and start those kisses again, but I kept talking about caves. “I have cat beds stashed around my
house and offices, but those would not fit the design concept here.”
He snorted at me. “I doubt it would impact my business at this point; I like to maintain the magic of being a sports agent,
though.”
I remembered seeing furniture with dog enclosures built into them. They could use any wood and match the design of the
house. I found the website and showed River. He decided having them made into a dragon bed would be perfect. We discussed
where he wanted to put them and decided he would get six, with faux fur on the sides and a fluffy pillow on the bottom. One
would be fitted with a handle and a lid so he could take it with him when he traveled.
I sent a quick email to my assistant. He texted me that it would get taken care of. He also said he had some business I needed
to handle. I promised that I would be available tomorrow. Then I asked him to have my tux clean and available for Friday.
Regrettably, I had to get going. I wanted to stay here all night, getting to know little things about River. I wanted to
experience him and Charlie bonding more, help him teach his companion new commands, and listen to stories about him taking
showers with his new best friend. I reminded him that he should also get some perches to mount in different areas. One in his
bedroom, office, and kitchen would be ideal.
He started to hand me the bags and backpacks. “Keep the memorabilia and give it to him when you meet him on Friday. You
will bump me off as his favorite uncle.” I stopped talking, abruptly realizing I had put us together on a more long-term basis.
“I get uncle status, do I?”
“It’s certainly an open position at this time.” My heart did a little flip-flop. He walked me to the elevator doors. We stood
there, and it seemed neither of us wanted to part company. I liked him. Leaving was disappointing, but I had to attend to my life.
I wasn’t a lovesick teenager, even though it was very tempting to act like one.
“I’ll be by for a few hours tomorrow for sure. I, unfortunately, must get some work done before I find myself jobless. I had
hoped to be available all day all week, but you know how it goes.”
“Somehow, I doubt that would happen, but I should probably make some calls tomorrow. If you want to, why don’t you come
by at the end of the day? I’ll make you some dinner?” He looked at me with such hope.
“I’d love that!!” I said it way more enthusiastically than a dinner invitation usually warranted. His face lit up when I
accepted, and my toes curled.
“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” He closed the gap between us instantly.
“I would really.” He kissed my jaw. “Really.” He kissed my neck just under my ear. “Like that.” He claimed my mouth.
Kissing me hard, his hand pushing my mouth against his. Our bodies pressed together; his excitement was evident as our groins
pressed together. I melted into him, savoring how he felt, his small moan, and the feel of his fingers in my hair.
I gasped when we parted. “I hate leaving, but I will see you tomorrow. I look forward to getting to know you better. No more
hookups. Though it might kill me.”
He made a little groan. “It might just kill us both.” Then, he kissed my lips one more time. “Get going. I’ll think about your
mouth on mine until I see you tomorrow.”
I grabbed the backpacks and headed downstairs, jogging across the street and entering the office.
“Well, look who it ….” Sarah stopped and looked at me. “Those are not the clothes you were wearing this morning.”
“You are correct. I am wearing different clothes.” I didn’t even smirk at her.
Her eyes got enormous, and she grinned ear to ear. “Rodney, bring Daisy out, will you.”
“Oh, Uncle Aaron is …. “He stopped mid-sentence like his mother. “Those aren’t the clothes you were wearing this
morning. Those aren’t even your clothes.” He walked over and touched the jersey. “Dude, that's nice.”
“Let’s focus, Rodney. Go back to where you started.” Sarah said.
“Oh yeah. Those are different clothes. What happened to the clothes you started the day in?” Rodney looked at his mother.
She would never have asked me, but she knew Rodney wouldn’t give up. She had counted on that from him.
I held up the backpacks. “River sent me with swag for you.”
“Oh shit! I like this guy already.” Rodney took the bag I held out to him. There was an embroidered Hot Shots logo on it.
“Wait, this guy works for Hot Shots, the sports agency?”
“This guy, whose name is River, is Hot Shots sports agency.” I grinned ridiculously at Rodney.
“Oh. My. You like him. Isn’t that some shit? Good for you, man. It’s been a long time since I saw a grin like that from you. I
hope we see more of it.”
He looked at his mom. “Leave him alone, Mom. We don’t want to scare him.”
I handed Sarah her bag and then opened mine. I tapped my chest. Daisy flew off Rodney’s shoulder to mine. She rubbed
against my cheek and chirped at me happily. I cupped my hand up by her, and she pushed into it with her head. “I missed you
too. I think maybe I can take you with me tomorrow.”
“Going back again tomorrow?” Sarah and Rodney said in unison.
“It’s a requirement. I have to mentor River and his new dragon. It’s only appropriate to see him every day for at least the first
week.” Neither of them seemed to buy it. Sarah just giggled and continued pulling out her treasures.
Another random document with
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is true, had put on a white and cobwebby kind of blouse, which together with
her short walking skirt and the innocent droop of her fair hair about her little
ears made her look at the most eighteen, and Mrs. Menzies-Legh had tricked
herself out in white too, producing indeed for our admiration a white skirt as
well as a white blouse, and achieving at the most by these efforts an air of
(no doubt spurious) cleanliness; but the others were still all spattered and
disfigured by the muddy accumulations of the past day.
Though they stopped dancing as I came in I had time to receive a
photograph on my mind’s eye of the various members of our party: of
Jellaby, loose-collared and wispy-haired, gyrating with poor Frau von
Eckthum, of Edelgard, flushed with childish enjoyment, in the grip of a boy
who might very well have been her own if I had married her a few years
sooner and if it were conceivable that I could ever have produced anything
so undeveloped and half-grown, and of, if you please, Menzies-Legh in all
his elderliness, dancing with an object the short voluminousness of whose
clothing proclaimed a condition of unripeness even greater than that of the
two fledglings—dancing, in a word, with a child.
That he should dance at all was, you will agree, sufficiently unworthy but
at least if he must make himself publicly foolish he might have done it with
some one more suited to his years, some one of the age of the lady, for
instance—singularly unlike one’s idea of a ghost—standing at the upper end
of the room playing the violin that had half an hour previously been so
incomprehensible to me.
On seeing me enter he stopped dead, and his face resumed the familiar
look of lowering gloom. The other couples followed his example, and the
violin, after a brief hesitation, whined away into passivity.
“Capital,” said I heartily to Menzies-Legh, who happened to have been in
the act of dancing past the door I came in by. “Capital. Enjoy yourself, my
friend. You are doing admirably well for what you told me is a weed. In a
German ball-room you would, I assure you, create an immense sensation, for
it is not the custom there for gentlemen over thirty—which,” I amended,
bowing, “I may be entirely wrong in presuming that you are—for gentlemen
over thirty——”
But he interrupted me to remark with the intelligence that characterized
him (after all, what ailed the man was, I believe, principally stupidity) that
this was not a German ball-room.
 “Ah,” said I, “you are right there, my friend. That indeed is what you
English call a different pair of shoes. If it were, do you know where the
gentlemen over thirty would be?”
He spoiled the neat answer I had all ready of “Not there” by, instead of
seeking information, observing with his customary boorishness, “Confound
the gentlemen over thirty,” and walking his long-stockinged partner away.
“Otto,” whispered my wife, hurrying up, “you must come and be
introduced to the people who are kindly letting us dance here.”
“Not unless they are of decent birth,” I said firmly.
“Whether they are or not you must come,” said she. “The lady who is
playing is——”
“I know, I know, she is a ghost,” said I, unable to forbear smiling at my
own jest; and I think my hearers will agree that a man who can make fun of
himself may certainly be said to be at least fairly equipped with a sense of
humour.
Edelgard stared. “She is the pastor’s wife,” she said. “It is her party. It is
so kind of her to let us in. You must come and be introduced.”
“She is a ghost,” I persisted, greatly diverted by the notion, for I felt a
reaction of cheerfulness, and never was a lady more substantial than the one
with the violin; “she is a ghost, and a highly unattractive specimen of the
sect. Dear wife, only ghosts should be introduced to other ghosts. I am flesh
and blood, and will therefore go instead and release the little Eckthum from
the flesh and blood persistencies of Jellaby.”
“But Otto, you must come,” said Edelgard, laying her hand on my arm as
I prepared to move in the direction of the charming victim; “you can’t be
rude. She is your hostess——”
“She is my ghostess,” said I, very divertingly I thought; so divertingly
that I was seized by a barely controllable desire to indulge in open mirth.
Edelgard, however, with the blank incomprehension of the droll so often
to be observed in women, did not so much as smile.
“Otto,” said she, “you absolutely must——”
“Must, dear wife,” said I with returning gravity, “is a word no woman of
tact ever lets her husband hear. I see no must why I, being who I am, should
request an introduction to a Frau Pastor. I would not in Storchwerder. Still
less will I at Frog’s Hole Farm.”
 “But you are her guest——”
“I am not. I came.”
“But it is so nice of her to allow you to come.”
“It is not niceness. She is delighted at the honour.”
“But Otto, you simply can’t——”
I was about to move off definitely to the corner where Frau von Eckthum
sat helpless in the talons of Jellaby when who should enter the door just in
front of which Edelgard was wrangling but the creature I had last parted
from on unfriendly terms in the church a few hours before.
Attired this time from chin to boots in a long and narrow buttoned-down
black garment suggestive of that of the Pope’s priests, with a gold cross
dangling on his chest, his eye immediately caught mine and the genial smile
of the party-giver with which he had come in died away. Evidently he had
been there earlier, for Edelgard as though she were well acquainted with him
darted forward (where, alas, remained the dignity of the well-born?) and
very officiously introduced me to him. Me to him, observe.
“Let me,” said my wife, “introduce my husband, Baron Ottringel.”
And she did.
It was of course the pastor who ought to have been introduced to me on
such neutral ground as an impromptu ball-room, but Edelgard had, as the
caravan tour lengthened, acquired the habit of using the presence of a third
person in order to do as she chose, with no reference whatever to my known
wishes. This is a habit specially annoying to a man of my disposition,
peppery perhaps, but essentially bon enfant, who likes to get his cautions and
reprimands over and done with and forgotten, rather than be forced to allow
them to accumulate and brood over them indefinitely.
Rendered helpless by my own good breeding—a quality which leads to
many a discomfort in life—I was accordingly introduced for all the world as
though I were the inferior, and could only show my sensibility of the fact by
a conspicuous stiffening.
“Otto thinks it is so very kind of you to let us come in,” said Edelgard, all
smiles and with an augmentation of officiousness and defiance of me that
was incredible.
“I am glad you were able to,” replied the pastor looking at me, politeness
in his voice and chill in his eye. It was plain the creature was still angry
because, in church, I would not pray.
“You are very good,” said I, bowing with at least an equal chill.
“Otto wishes,” continued the shameless Edelgard, reckless of the private
hours with me ahead, “to be introduced to your—to Mrs.—Mrs.——”
“Raggett,” supplied the pastor.
And I would certainly have been dragged up then and there to the round
red ghost at the top of the room while Edelgard, no doubt, triumphed in the
background, if it had not itself come to the rescue by striking up another tune
on its fiddle.
“Presently,” said the pastor, now become crystallized for me into Raggett.
“Presently. Then with pleasure.”
And his glassy eye, fixed on mine, had little of pleasure in it.
At this point Edelgard danced away with Jellaby from under my very
nose. I made an instinctive movement toward the slender figure alone in the
corner, but even as I moved a half-grown boy secured her and hurried her off
among the dancers. Looking round, I saw no one else I could go and talk to;
even Mrs. Menzies-Legh was not available. There was nothing for it,
therefore, but unadulterated Raggett.
“It is nice,” observed this person, watching the dancers—he had a hooky
profile as well as a glassy eye—“to see young people enjoying themselves.”
I bowed, determined to keep within the limits of strict iciness; but as
Jellaby and my wife whirled past I could not forbear adding:
“Especially when the young people are so mature that they are fully
aware of the extent of their own enjoyment.”
“Yes,” said he; without, however, any real responsiveness.
“It is only,” said I, “when a woman is mature, and more than mature, that
she begins to enjoy being young.”
“Yes,” said he; still with no real responsiveness.
“You may possibly,” said I, nettled by this indifference, “regard that as a
paradox.”
“No,” said he.
“It is, however,” said I more loudly, “not one.”
“No,” said he.
 “It is on the contrary,” said I still louder, “a rather subtle but undeniable
truth.”
“Yes,” said he; and I then perceived that he was not listening.
I do not know what my hearers feel, but I fancy they feel with me that
when a gentleman of birth and position is amiable enough to talk to a person
of neither it is particularly galling to discover that that person is so unable to
grasp the true aspect of the situation as to neglect even to follow the
conversation. Good breeding (as I have before remarked, a great hinderer)
prevents one’s explaining who one is and emphasizing who the other person
is and doing then and there a sum of subtraction between one’s own value
and his and offering him the result for his closer inspection, so what is one to
do? Stiffen and go dumb, I suppose. Good breeding allows no more. Alas,
there are many and heavy drawbacks to being a gentleman.
Raggett had evidently not been listening to a word I said, for after his last
abstracted “Yes,” he suddenly turned the glassiness of his eye full upon me.
“I did not know,” he said, “when I saw you in church——”
Really the breeding that could go back to the church and what happened
there was too bad for words. My impulse was to stop him by saying “Shall
we dance?” but I was too uncertain of the extent, nay of the existence, of his
powers of seeing fun to venture.
“—that you were not English, or I should not have asked——”
“Sir,” I interrupted, endeavouring to get him at all cost out of the church,
“who, after all, is English?”
He looked surprised. “Well,” said he, “I am.”
“Why, you do not know. You cannot possibly be certain. Go back a
thousand years and, as I lately read in an ingenious but none the less
probably right book, the whole of Europe was filled with your fathers and
mothers. Starting with your two parents and four grandparents and going
backward multiplying as you go, the sixteen great-grandparents are already
almost unmanageable, and a century or two further back you find them
irrepressibly overflowing your little island and spreading themselves across
Europe as thickly and as adhesively as so much jam, until in days a trifle
more remote not a person living of white skin but was your father, unless he
was your mother. Take,” I continued, as he showed signs of wanting to
interrupt—“take any example you choose, you will find the same
inextricable confusion everywhere. And not only physically—spiritually.
Take any example. Anything at random. Take our late lamented Kaiser
Friedrich, who married a daughter of your royal house. It is our custom to
regard and even to call our Kaiser and Kaiserin the Father and Mother of the
nation. The entire nation therefore is, in a spiritual sense, half English. So,
accordingly, am I. So, accordingly, to push the point a step further, you
become their nephew, and therefore a quarter German—a spiritual German
quarter, even as I am a spiritual English half. There is no end to the
confusion. Have you observed, sir, that the moment one begins to think
everything does become confused?”
“Are you not dancing?” said he, fidgetting and looking about him.
I think one is often angry with people because, having assumed on first
acquaintance that they are on one’s own level of intelligence, their speech
and actions presently prove that they are not. This is unjust; but, like most
unjust things, natural. I, however, as a reasonable man do my best to fight
against it, and on Raggett’s asking this question for all response to the
opportunity I gave him of embarking on an interesting discussion, I checked
my natural annoyance by realizing that he was what Menzies-Legh probably
was, merely stupid. Stupidity, my hearers will agree, is of various kinds, and
one kind is want of interest in what is interesting. Of course this particular
stupid was hopelessly ill-bred besides, for what can be more so than meeting
a series of, to put them at their lowest, suggestive remarks by inquiring if
one is not dancing?
“My dear sir,” I said, preserving my own manners at least, “in my country
it is not the custom for married gentlemen over thirty to dance. Perhaps you
were paying me the compliment (often, I must say, paid me before) of
supposing I am not yet that age, but I assure you that I am. Nor do ladies
continue to dance in our country once their early youth is past and their
outlines become—shall we say, bolder? Seats are then provided for them
round the walls, and on them they remain in suitable passivity until the oasis
afforded by the Lancers is reached, when the elder gentlemen pour gallantly
out of the room in which they play cards all the evening and lead them
through its intricacies with the ceremony that satisfies Society’s sense of the
becoming. In this country, on the contrary——”
“Really,” he interrupted, his habit of fidgetting more pronounced than
ever, “you talk English with such a flow and volume that after all you very
well might have joined——”
 I now saw that the man was a fanatic, a type of unbalanced person I have
always particularly disliked. Good breeding is little if at all appreciated by
fanatics, and I might have been excused if, at this point, I had flung mine to
the winds. I did not do so, however, but merely interrupted him in my turn
by informing him with cold courteousness that I was a Lutheran.
“And Lutherans,” I added, “do not pray. At least, not audibly, and
certainly never in duets. More,” I continued, putting up my hand as he
opened his mouth to speak, “more. I am a philosopher, and the prayers of a
philosopher cannot be confined within the limits of any formula. Formulas
are for the undeveloped. You tie a child into its chair lest, untied, it should
fall disastrously to the floor. You tie the undeveloped adult to a creed lest,
untied, he should fall goodness really knows where. The grown man, of full
stature in mind as well as body, requires no tying. His whole life is his creed.
Nothing cut and dried, nothing blatant, nothing gaudily apparent to the
outside world, but a subtle saturation, a continual soaking——”
“Excuse me,” said he, “one of those candles is guttering.”
And he hurried across the room with an expedition I would not have
thought possible in a man so gray and glassy to where, in the windows, the
illuminating rows of candles had been placed.
Nor did he come back, I am glad to say, for I found him terribly fatiguing;
and I remained alone, leaning against the wall by the door.
Down at the further end of the room danced my gentle friend, and also
her sister; also all the other members of our party except Menzies-Legh who,
recalled to decency by my good-natured shafts, spent the rest of his time
soberly either helping the pastor pinch off candle-wicks or turning over the
ghost’s music for it.
Desiring to watch Frau von Eckthum more conveniently (for I assure you
it was a pretty sight to see her grace, and how the same tune that made my
wife whirl moved her to nothing more ruffling than an appearance of being
wafted) and also in order to be at hand should Jellaby become too tactless, I
went down to where our party seemed to be gathered in a knot and took up
my position near them against another portion of the wall.
I had hardly done so before they seemed to have melted away to the
upper end.
As they did not come back I presently strolled after them. They then
appeared to melt back again to the bottom.
 It was very odd. It was almost like an optical illusion. When I went up,
they went down; when I went down, they went up. I felt at last as one may
feel who plays at see-saw, and began to doubt whether I were really on firm
ground—on terra cotta, as I (amusingly, I thought) called it to Edelgard
when we alighted from the steamer at Queenboro’, endeavouring to restore
her spirits and make her laugh. (Quite in vain I may add, which inclined me
to wonder, I remember, whether the illiteracy which is one of the leading
characteristics of people’s wives had made it impossible for her to
understand even so simple a classical play on words as that. In the train I
realized that it was not illiteracy but the crossing; and I will say for Edelgard
that up to the time the English spirit of criticism got, like a devastating
microbe, hold of her German womanliness, she had invariably laughed when
I chose to jest.)
But gradually the profitless see-sawing began to tire me. The dance
ended, another began, and still my little white-bloused friend had not once
been within reach. I made a determined effort to get to her in the pauses
between the dances in order to offer to break the German rule on her behalf
and give her one dance (for I fancy she was vexed that I did not) and also to
help her out of the clutches of Jellaby, but I might as well have tried to dance
with and help a moonbeam. She was here, she was there, she was
everywhere, except where I happened to be. Once I had almost achieved
success when, just as I was sure of her, she ran up to the ghost resting at that
moment from its labours and embarked in an apparently endless and
absorbing discussion with it, deaf and blind to all beside; and as I had made
up my mind that nothing would induce me to extend my Raggett
acquaintance by causing myself to be introduced to the psychical
phenomenon bearing that name, I was forced to retreat.
Moodily, though. My first hilarity was extinguished. Bon enfant though I
am I cannot go on being bon enfant forever—I must have, so to speak, the
encouragement of a bottle at intervals; and I was thinking of taking Edelgard
away and giving her, before the others returned to their caravans, a brief
description of what maturity combined with calf-like enjoyment looks like to
bystanders, when Mrs. Menzies-Legh passing on the arm of a partner caught
sight of my face, let her partner go, and came up to me.
“I suppose,” she said (and she had at least the grace to hesitate), “it would
be no good asking—asking you to—dance?”
I stared at her in undisguised astonishment.
 “Are you not dreadfully bored, standing there alone?” she said, as I did
not answer. “Won’t you—” (again she had the grace to hesitate)—“won’t
you—dance?”
Pointedly, and still staring amazed, I inquired of her with whom, for
really I could hardly believe——
“With me, if—if you will,” said she, a rather lame attempt at a smile and
a distinctly anxious look in her eyes showing that at least it was only a
momentary aberration.
Momentary or not, however, I am not the man to smile with feigned
gratification when what is needed is rebuke, especially in the case of this
lady who of all others needed one so often and so badly.
“Why,” I exclaimed, not caring to conceal my opinion, “why—this is
matriarchy!”
And turning on my heel I made my way at once to my wife, stopped her
whirlings, drew her away from her partner’s arm (Jellaby’s, by the way),
made her take her husband’s and without a word led her out of the room.
But, as I passed the door I saw the look of (I should think pretended)
astonishment of Mrs. Menzies-Legh’s face give way to the appearance of the
dimple, to a sudden screwing together of the upper and lower eyelashes, and
my friends will be able to form a notion of how complete was the havoc
England had wrought in all she had been taught to understand and reverence
in her youth when I tell them that what she was manifestly trying not to do
was to laugh.
 CHAPTER XIX

E SSENTIALLY, as I have already pointed out, bon enfant, I seldom let a

bad yesterday spoil a promising to-day; and when on peeping through
my curtains next morning I saw the sun had turned our forbidding camp
of the night before into a bland warm place across which birds darted
singing, a cheery whistle formed itself on my lips and I became aware of
that inward satisfaction our neighbours (to whom we owe, I frankly
acknowledge, much besides Alsace and Lorraine) have aptly named the joie
de vivre.
Left to myself this joie would undoubtedly always continue
uninterruptedly throughout the day. The greater then, say I, the
responsibility of those who damp it. Indeed, the responsibility resting on the
shoulders of the people who cross one’s path during the day is far more
tremendous than they in the thickness of their skins imagine. I will not,
however, at present go into that, having gradually in the course of writing
this become aware that what I shall probably do next will be to collect and
embody all my more metaphysical side into a volume to itself with plenty
of room in it, and will here, then, merely ask my hearers to behold me
whistling in my caravan on that bright August morning, whistling, and
ready, as every sound man should be, to leave the annoyances of yesterday
beneath their own dust and begin the new day in the spirit of “Who knows
but before nightfall I shall have conquered the world?”
My mother (a remarkable woman) used to tell me it was a good plan to
start like that, and indeed I believe the results by nightfall would be
surprisingly encouraging if only other people would leave one alone. For, as
they meet you, each one by his behaviour takes away a further portion of
that which in the morning was so undimmed. Why, sometimes just Edelgard
at breakfast has by herself torn off the whole stock of it at once; and
generally by dinner there is but little left. It is true that occasionally after
dinner a fresh wave of it sets in, but sleep absorbs that before it has had
time, as the colloquialists would say, so much as to turn round.
My hearers, then, without my going further into this, must conceive me
whistling and full of French joie in the subdued sunlight of the Elsa’s
curtained interior on that bright summer morning at Frogs’ Hole Farm.
 The floor sloped, for during the night the Elsa’s left hind wheel had sunk
into an uncobbled portion of the yard where the soft mud offered no
resistance, but even the prospect of having to dig this out before we could
start did not depress me. I thought I had noticed my head sinking lower and
lower during my dreams, and after having, half asleep, endeavoured to
correct this impression by means of rolling up my day clothes and putting
them beneath my pillow and finding that it made no difference, I decided it
must be a nightmare and let well alone. In the morning, on waking after
Edelgard’s departure, I realized what had happened, and if any of you ever
caravan you had better see when you go to bed that all four of your wheels
are on that which I called at Queenboro’ terra cotta (you will remember I
explained why it was my wife was unable to be amused) or you will have
some pretty work cut out for you next morning.
Even this prospect, however, did not, as I say, depress me. Dumb objects
like caravans have no such power, and as nobody not dumb had yet crossed
my path I was still, so to speak, untarnished. I had even made up my mind
to forget the half-hour with Edelgard the previous night after the ball, and
since a willingness to forget is the same thing as a willingness to forgive I
think you will all agree that I began that day very well.
Descending to breakfast, I experienced a slight shock (the first breath of
tarnish) on finding no one but Mrs. Menzies-Legh and the nondescripts
there. Mrs. Menzies-Legh, however, though no doubt feeling privately
awkward managed to behave as though nothing had happened, hoped I had
slept well, and brought my coffee. She did not talk as much as usual, but
attended to my wants with an assiduousness that pointed to her being, after
all, ashamed.
I inquired of her with the dignity that means determined distance where
the others were, and she said gone for a walk.
She remarked on the beauty of the day, and I replied, “It is indeed.”
She then said, slightly sighing, that if only the weather had been like that
from the first the tour would have been so much more enjoyable.
On which I observed, with reserved yet easy conversation, that the
greater part still lay before us, and who knew but that from then on it was
not going to be fine?
At this she looked at me in silence, her head poised slightly on one side,
seriously and pensively, as she had done among the Bodiam ruins; then
opened her mouth as though to speak, but thinking better of it got up instead
and fetched me more food.
At last, thought I, she was learning the right way to set about pleasing;
and I could not prevent a feeling of gratification at the success of my
method with her. There was an unusually good breakfast too, which
increased this feeling—eggs and bacon, a combined luxury not before seen
on our table. The fledglings hung over the stove with heated cheeks
preparing relays of it under Mrs. Menzies-Legh’s directions, who, while she
directed, held the coffee-pot in her arms to keep it warm. She explained she
did so for my second cup. I might and indeed I would have suspected that
she did so not to keep the coffee but her arms warm, if it had not been such
a grilling day. Heat quivered in a blue haze over the hop-poles of the
adjacent field. The sunless farmhouse looked invitingly cool and shady now
that the surrounding hill-tops were one glare of light. To hold warm coffee
in one’s arms on such a morning could not possibly show anything but a
meritorious desire to make amends; and as I am not a man to do what the
scriptural call quench the smoking flax, and yet not a man to forgive too
quickly recently audacious ladies, I dexterously mingled extreme politeness
with an unshakable reserve.
But I did not care to prolong what was practically a tête-à-tête one
moment more than necessary, and could not but at last perceive in her
persistent replenishings of my cup and plate the exactly contrary desire in
the lady. So I got up with a courteously declining, “No, no—a reasonable
man knows when to leave off,” murmured something about seeing to
things, bowed, and withdrew.
Where I withdrew to was the hop-field and a cigar.
I lay down in the shade of these green promises of beer in a corner
secure from observation, and reflected that if the others could waste time
taking supererogatory exercise I might surely be allowed an interval of
calm; and as there are no mosquitoes in England, at least none that I ever
saw, it really was not unpleasant for once to contemplate nature from the
ground. But I must confess I was slightly nettled by the way the rest of the
party had gone off without waiting to see whether I would not like to go
too. At first, busied by breakfast, I had not thought of this. Presently, in the
hop-field, it entered my mind, and though I would not have walked far with
them it would have been pleasant to let the rest go on ahead and remain
myself in some cool corner talking to my gentle but lately so elusive friend.
I must say also that I felt no little surprise that Edelgard should gad away
in such a manner before our caravan had been tidied up and after what I had
said to her the last thing the night before. Did she then think, in her
exuberant defiance, that I would turn to and make our beds for her?
My cigar being finished I lay awhile thinking of these things, fanned by
a gentle breeze. Country sounds, at a distance to make them agreeable,
gradually soothed ear and brain. A cock crowed just far enough away. A
lark sang muffled by space. The bells of an invisible church—Raggett’s,
probably—began a deadened and melodious ringing. Well, I was not going;
I smiled as I thought of Raggett and the eagle, forced to make the best of
things by themselves. All round me was a hum and a warmth that was
irresistible. I did not resist it. My head dropped; my limbs relaxed; and I fell
into a doze.
This doze was, as it turned out, extremely à propos, for by the time it
was over and I had once more become conscious, the morning was well
advanced and the caravaners had had ample time to get back from their
walk and through their work. Sauntering in among them I found everything
ready for a start except the Elsa, which, still with its left hind wheel sunk in
the soil, was being doctored by Menzies-Legh, Jellaby, and old James.
“Hullo,” said Jellaby, looking up in the midst of his heated pushing and
pulling as I appeared, “been enjoying yourself?”
Menzies-Legh did not even look up, but continued his efforts with drops
of moisture on his saturnine brow.
Well, here my experience as an artillery officer accustomed to getting
gun-carriages out of predicaments enabled me at once to assume authority,
and drawing up a camp stool I gave them directions as they worked. They
did not, it is true, listen much, thinking as English people so invariably do
that they knew better, but by not listening they merely added another half-
hour to their labour, and as it was fine and warm and sitting superintending
them much less arduous than marching, I had no real objection.
I told Menzies-Legh this at the time, but he did not answer, so I told him
again when we were on the road about the half-hour he might have saved if
he had worked on my plan. He seemed to be in a more than usually bad
temper, for he only shrugged his shoulders and looked glum; and my
hearers will agree that Mrs. Menzies-Legh’s John was not a possession for
England to be specially proud of.
We journeyed that day toward Canterbury, a town you, my friends, may
or may not have heard of. That it is an English town I need not say, for if it
were not would we have been going there? And it is chiefly noted, I
remembered, for its archbishop.
This gentleman, I was told by Jellaby on my questioning him, walks
directly behind the King’s eldest son, and in front of all the nobles in
processions. He is a pastor, but how greatly glorified! He is the final
expansion, the last word, of that which in the bud was only a curate. Every
English curate, like Buonaparte’s soldiers are said to have done, carries in
his handbag the mitre of an archbishop. I can only regard it as a blessing
that our Church has not got them, for I for one would find it difficult with
this possibility in view ever to be really natural to a curate. As it is I am
perfectly natural. With absolute simplicity I show ours his place and keep
him to it; and I am equally simple with our Superintendents and General
Superintendents, the nearest approach our pure and frugal Church goes to
bishops and archbishops. There is nothing glorified about them. They are
just respectable elderly men, with God-fearing wives who prepare their
dinner for them day by day. “And, Jellaby,” said I, “can as much be said for
the wives of your archbishops?”
“No,” said he.
“Another point, then,” said I, with the jesting manner one uses to gild
unpalatable truth, “on which we Germans are ahead.”
Jellaby pushed his wisp of hair back and mopped his forehead. From my
position at my horse’s head I had called to him as he was walking quickly
past me, for I perceived he had my poor gentle little friend in tow and was
once again inflicting his society on her. He could not, however, refuse to
linger on my addressing him, and I took care to ask him so many questions
about Canterbury and its ecclesiastical meaning that Frau von Eckthum was
able to have a little rest.
A faint flush showed she understood and appreciated. No longer obliged
to exert herself conversationally, as I had observed she was doing when
they passed, she dropped into her usual calm and merely listened attentively
to all I had to say. But we had hardly begun before Mrs. Menzies-Legh,
who was in front, happened to look round, and seeing us immediately added
her company to what was already more than company enough, and put a
stop to anything approaching real conversation by herself holding forth. No
one wanted to hear her; least of all myself, to whom she chiefly addressed
her remarks. The others, indeed, were able to presently slip away, which
they did to the rear of our column, I think, for I did not see them again; but
I, forced to lead my horse, was helpless.
I leave it to you, my friends, to decide what strictures should be passed
on such persistency. I cannot help feeling that it was greatly to my credit
that I managed to keep within bounds of politeness under such
circumstances. One thing, however, is eternally sure: the more a lady
pursues, the more a gentleman withdraws, and accordingly those ladies who
throw feminine decorum to the winds only defeat their own ends.
I said this—slightly veiled—to Mrs. Menzies-Legh that morning, taking
an opportunity her restless and leaping conversation offered to administer
the little lesson. No veils, however, were thin enough for her to see through,
and instead of becoming red and startled she looked at me through her
eyelashes with an air of pretended innocence and said, “But, Baron dear,
what is feminine decorum?”
As though feminine decorum or modesty or virtue were things that could
be explained in any words decent enough to fit them for a gentleman to use
to a lady!
That was a tiring day. Canterbury is a tiring place; at least it would be if
you let it. I did not, however, let it tire me. And such a hot place! It is a
steaming town with the sun beating down on it, and full of buildings and
antiquities one is told one must be longing to look at. After a day’s march in
the dust it is not antiquities one longs for, and I watched with some
contempt the same hypocritical attitude take possession of the party that had
distinguished it at Bodiam.
We arrived there about four, and Menzies-Legh pitched on an
exceedingly ugly camping ground on a slope just outside the city, with villa
residences so near that their inhabitants could observe us, if they had
telescopes, from their windows. It was a field from which the corn had been
cut, and the hard straw remaining hurt one’s weary feet; nor had it any
advantages that I could see, though the others spoke of the view. This, if
you please, consisted of the roofs of the houses in the town and a cathedral
rising from their midst in a network of scaffolding. I pointed this out to
them as they stood staring, but Menzies-Legh was quite unshaken in his
determination to stay just on that spot, in spite of there being a railway line
running along the bottom of the field and a station with all its noises within
a stone’s throw. I thought it odd to have come to a town at all, for till then
the party had been unanimous in its desire to avoid even villages, but on my
remarking on this they murmured something about the cathedral, as though
the building below, or rather the mass of scaffolding, were enough to excuse
the most inconsistent conduct.
The heat of that shadeless stubblefield was indescribable. It did not
possess a tree. At the bottom was, as I have said, the railway. At the top,
just above where we were, a market garden, a thing of vegetables, whose
aim is to have as few shadows as possible. Languidly the party made
preparations for settling down. Languidly and after a long delay Menzies-
Legh dragged out the stew-pot. In spite of the heat I was as hungry as a man
ought to be who, at four o’clock, has not yet dined, and as I watched the
drooping caravaners listlessly preparing the potatoes and cabbages and
boiled bacon that I now knew so very thoroughly, this having been our meal
(except once or twice when we had chickens, or, in extremity, underdone
sausages) since the beginning of the tour, a brilliant thought illuminated the
gloom of my brain: Why not slip away unnoticed, and down in the town
cause myself to be served in the dining-room of an hotel with freshly
roasted meat and generous wine?
Very cautiously I raised myself from the hard hot stubble.
Casually I glanced at the view.
With an air of preoccupation I went behind the Elsa, the first move
toward freedom, as though to fetch some accessory of the meal from our
larder.
“Do you want anything, Otto?” asked my officious and tactless wife
trotting after me—a thing she never does when I do want anything.
Naturally I was a little snappish: but then if she had left me alone would
I have snapped? Wives are great forcers of faults upon a man. So I snapped;
and she departed, chidden.
Looking about me, up at the sky, and round the horizon, as though intent
on thoughts of weather, I inconspicuously edged toward the market garden
and the gate. With a man in the garden searching for slugs I spent a moment
or two conversing, and then, a backward glance having assured me the
caravaners were still drooping in listless preparation round the stew-pot, I
sauntered, humming, through the gate.
Immediately I ran into Jellaby, who, a bucket of water in each hand, was
panting along the road.
“Hullo, Baron,” he gasped; “enjoying yourself?”
“I am going,” said I with much presence of mind combined with the
seriousness that repudiates any idea of enjoyment, “to buy some matches.
Ours are running short.”
“Oh,” said he, plumping down his buckets and fumbling among the folds
of his flappy clothes, “I can lend you some. Here you are.”
And he held out a box.
“Jellaby,” said I, “what is one box to a whole—shall we call it
household? My wife requires many matches. She is constantly striking
them. It is her husband’s duty to see that she has enough. Keep yours. And
farewell.”
And walking at a pace that prohibited pursuit by a man with buckets I
left him.
I have had so many dinners in dining-rooms since that one at Canterbury,
ordered repasts without grease and that kept hot, that the wonder of it has
lost in my memory much of its first brightness. You, my hearers, who dine
as I now do regularly and well, would hardly if I could still describe be able
to enter into my feelings. I found a cool room in an inn with the pleasantly
un-English name Fleur de Lys, and a sympathetic waiter who fell in at once
with my views about fresh air and shut all the windows. I had a newspaper,
and I sipped a cognac while the meal was preparing. I ordered everything
on the list except bacon, chickens, and sausages. I also would not eat
potatoes, and declined, as a vegetable, cabbage. I drank much wine, full-
bodied and generous, but I refused after dinner to drink coffee.
Filled and hallowed, once more in thorough tune with myself and life
and ready to take any further experiences the day might bring with
unruffled geniality, I left toward dusk the temple that had thus blest me
(after debating within myself whether it would not be prudent having regard
to the future in further lanes and fields to sup first, and regretfully realizing
that I could not), and leisurely made my way across the street to that other
temple, whose bells announced the inevitable service.
 My decision to peep cautiously in and see whether the parson were alone
before definitely committing myself to a pew was unnecessary, first because
there were no pews but a mighty emptiness, and secondly because, along
the dusk of this emptiness, groups of persons made their way to a vast flight
of steps dividing the place into two and leading up to a region, into which
they disappeared, of glimmering lights. Too clever now by far to go where
there were lights and praying might be demanded of me, I wandered on
tiptoe among the gathering shadows at the other end. It grew quickly darker
among the towering pillars and dim, painted windows. The bells left off; the
organ began to rumble about; and a distant voice, with a family likeness to
that of Raggett, sing-songed something long. It had no ups and downs, no
breaks; it was a drawn out thread of sound, thin and sweet like a trickle of
liquid sugar. Then many voices took up the sing-song, broadening it out
from a thread to a band. Then came the single trickle again; and so they
went on alternately, while I, hidden among the pillars, listened very well
pleased.
When the organ began, and an endless singing and repeating of the same
tune, I cautiously advanced nearer in search of something to sit on. To the
right of the steps I found what I wanted, an empty space in itself as big as
our biggest church in Storchwerder but small in comparison to the rest, with
immense windows full of the painted glass that becomes so confused and
meaningless in the dusk, no lights, and here and there a chair or two.
I sat down at the foot of a huge pillar in this dark and unobserved corner,
while the organ above me and the singing voices filled the spaces of the
roof with their slumber-inciting repetitions. Presently, as a tired and
comfortable man would do, I fell asleep, and was only wakened by the
subdued murmur just round the edge of the pillar of two people talking, and
I instantly, almost before my eyes opened, recognized that it was Frau von
Eckthum and Jellaby.
They were apparently sitting on some chairs I had noticed as I came
round to the greater obscurity of mine. They were so close that it was
practically into my ear that they spoke. The singing was finished, and I
fancy the congregation had dispersed, for the organ was playing softly and
the glimmer of lights had gone out.
My ears are as quick as any man’s, and I was greatly amused at the
situation. “Now,” thought I, “I shall hear what sort of stuff Jellaby inflicts
on patient and inexperienced ladies.”
It also occurred to me that it would be interesting to hear how she talked
to him, and so discover whether the libel were true that except in my
presence she chatted and was jocular. Jocular? Can anything be less what
one wishes in the woman one admires? Of course she was not, and Mrs.
Menzies-Legh was only (very naturally) jealous. I therefore sat quite still,
and became extremely alert and wide awake.
They were certainly not laughing. That, however, may have been the
cathedral—not that men of Jellaby’s stamp have even a rudimentary sense
of reverence and decency—but anyhow part of the libel was disposed of,
for the gentle lady was serious. She was, it is true, a good deal more fluent
than I knew her, but she seemed moved by some strong emotion which no
doubt accounted for that. What I could not account for was her displaying
emotion to a person like Jellaby. The first thing, for instance, that I heard
her say was, “It is all my fault.” And her voice vibrated with penitence.
“Oh, but it wasn’t, you know,” said Jellaby.
“Yes, it was. And I feel I ought to take a double share of the burden, and
instead I don’t take any.”
Burden? What burden could the tender lady possibly have to bear that
would not gladly be borne for her by many a masculine shoulder, including
mine? I was about to put my head round the pillar’s edge to assure her of
this when she began to speak again.
“I did try—at first,” she said. “But I—I simply can’t. So I shift it on to
Di.”
Di, my friends, is Mrs. Menzies-Legh, christened with prophetic
paganism Diana.
“An extremely sensible thing to do,” thought I, remembering the
wiriness of Di.
“She is very wonderful,” said Jellaby.
“Yes,” I silently agreed, “most.”
“She is an angel,” said her (I suppose naturally) partial sister, whose
sentiments were besides, no doubt, at that moment coloured by the
surroundings in which she found herself. But I could not help being
entertained by this example of lovable blindness.
 “It is so sweetly good of her to keep him off us,” continued Frau von
Eckthum. “She does it so kindly. So unselfishly. What can it be like to have
such a husband?”
“Ah,” thought I, a light illuminating my mind, “they are talking of our
friend John. Naturally his charming sister-in-law cannot bear him. Nor
should she be called upon to do so. To bear her husband is solely a wife’s
affair.”
“What can it be like?” repeated Frau von Eckthum, in the voice of one
vainly trying to realize something beyond words bad.
“I can’t think,” said Jellaby, basely, I thought, for he professed much
outward friendship for John.
“Of course she is amused—in a way,” continued Frau von Eckthum, “but
that sort of amusement soon palls, doesn’t it?”
“Extraordinarily soon,” said Jellaby.
“Before it has so much as begun,” thought I, recollecting the man’s
sallow, solemn visage. But then it is no part of a wife’s functions to be
amused.
“And she is really sorry for him,” said Frau von Eckthum.
“Indeed?” thought I, entertained by the patronizing attitude implied.
“She says,” continued her gentle sister, “that his loneliness, whether he
knows it or not, makes her ache.”
Well, I did not mind Mrs. Menzies-Legh aching, so thought nothing
definite there.
“She doesn’t want him to notice we get out of his way—she is afraid he
might be hurt. Do you think he would be?”
“No,” said Jellaby. “Pure leather.”
I agreed, though once again surprised at Jellaby’s baseness.
“I can’t think,” continued Frau von Eckthum—“I suppose it’s because I
am so bad—but I really cannot think how she can endure him, and in such
doses.”
“He is undoubtedly,” said Jellaby, “a very grievous bounder.”
“What,” I wondered, “is a bounder?” But I applauded Jellaby’s
sentiment nevertheless, for there was no mistaking its nature, though his
baseness was really amazing.