Resurrection by Lissa Kasey

Author:Lissa Kasey [Kasey, Lissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lissa Kasey

Chapter 17

He headed down the stairs, and Seiran trailed behind slowly, closing and locking the door behind him. He didn’t need his kids running around in Gabe’s space. Not that they ever visited the basement when they had an entire wing to themselves. His mother’s over-the-top choice for the house had seemed stupid at the time, but years later, filled with teenagers and almost teenagers, there was never enough space.

“It wasn’t like a sex party or anything,” Seiran said as they entered into the living space below. There were still boxes everywhere, though a few things appeared to have been opened and rifled through. The bed was made instead of covered in a dust cloth. The room cluttered, but not as lifeless as the storage space it had been.

“No,” Gabe said with a light laugh. “It’s more like meeting all your buddies out for drinks.”

“Except the drink is people,” Seiran said from his spot near the stairs. He didn’t think he’d be able to negotiate for someone to feed Gabe. Wasn’t sex and blood the same thing to a vampire? He thought he was grown-up enough to handle it, but had to admit to himself that some things were just ingrained. Gabe wasn’t really his, hadn’t ever been. What right did he have to demand?

Gabe paused to look back at him. “Sex does not equal blood. Or vice versa. I suspect that was my doing? That you think that way?”

“I am under the understanding that being bitten hurts without it?”

Gabe nodded, looking thoughtful. “My fault. I’ll work on that.” He took off his shirt, and it was so much like a striptease, even though Seiran knew it wasn’t meant to be, that his mouth watered. The body wasn’t all that different. He didn’t have the same super defined muscle that Seiran could remember, but none of the tone had really been lost. Gabe looked healthy, but without endless abs and the superhero arms that Seiran knew had been fantasies generated by media stereotypes rather than memories. There was a familiar scar on his chest, beneath one pectoral muscle. Seiran knew it was from being stabbed with a spear, but not all the details of it.

He couldn’t peel his gaze away as Gabe kicked off his shoes, and his hands went to the button of his pants, unhooking them, and shoving them down to reveal royal blue undies that encased an incredible ass, and outlined his cock, which was partially hard. He was far too pretty. Seiran hugged himself, trying to tell himself it was okay to react, his body did what it did. He didn’t have to actually play out any fantasies, even if his cock was hard as a rock and begging to be touched. And what an unusual feeling to have after so long. He’d rarely found anyone at all appealing. But right this minute, his body was on fire.

It had to be exhaustion. Yeah, that was it. It had been a long day. Lots of terrible things. He was tired.

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