The Behr and His Keeper by Stormy Glenn

Author:Stormy Glenn [Glenn, Stormy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781646370726
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

To say Tom was nervous would have been an understatement of epic proportions. He was terrified out of his mind. In a little while, people would be starting to arrive for his grandmother's memorial service. Friends, council members, aristocrats, even some royalty.

Tom just knew he was going to freak out in the middle of the service and everyone was going to laugh at him. He'd let down everyone he'd ever cared about, those that were still here and those that had gone on.

"Hey."

Tom jumped. He pressed a hand to his racing heart as he turned to look at Rogan. "Oh, hey, Rogan."

"You doing okay?"

"Honestly? No." Tom pushed his hair back from his face then glanced around. He felt unsettled, not sure what to say or what to do. "I hate big social gatherings or any type of gatherings. I can't stand them."

"Funerals have to be the worst."

Tom chuckled. "You'd be wrong. Family gatherings when my father was around were much worse. John Butler is a miserable old bastard who enjoys nothing more than making those around him just as miserable as he is."

"Is he going to be here today?"

"I didn't invite him, but that doesn't mean anything. If he thinks he can gain something from attending, he'll be here. He certainly wouldn't be here to mourn my grandmother. They hated each other." 'Hate' might not even be the word to describe how much they couldn't stand each other. 'Loathed' was a lot closer to how they felt about each other.

"You could bar him from the estate."

Tom shook his head. "Wouldn't do me any good. Not only would he find some way to gain entry, but he'd make me pay for barring him."

Something flashed in Rogan's eyes. "He won't touch you."

Tom couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips. With the exception of his grandmother, Harry, and Dick, he couldn't remember anyone ever getting pissed on his behalf. Considering the somberness of the day, the warmth that unfurled in his gut didn't make sense.

"I'd appreciate it if you stayed at my side today," Tom said. "I know I'm asking a lot, but—"

Rogan stepped right up into Tom's personal bubble space. "There's no place I'd rather be." His hand stroked down the side of Tom's face. "You have to know that."

Tom drew in a shaky breath as he raised his eyes to look at Rogan's face, staring at him with longing. He was acutely aware of Rogan's masculine presence. He could feel the sexual magnetism that made Rogan so self-confident.

"I guess I do," he whispered.

"May I kiss you?"

Rogan seemed to be peering at him intently, making Tom's heart turn over in response. Tom nodded, his feelings too overwhelming to verbally reply, but something in Rogan's manner soothed him.

Tom's calm was shattered when Rogan traced his lips with his tongue before covering his mouth hungrily. Rogan's moist, firm mouth demanded a response. The kiss quickly turned urgent and exploratory, sending spirals of ecstasy through Tom.

He was a little shocked at his eager response to the touch of Rogan's lips against his.

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