Yuletide Treasure (Goddess-Blessed Book 3) by Eliot Grayson

Author:Eliot Grayson [Grayson, Eliot]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Smoking Teacup Books
Published: 2019-11-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

It took far longer than it should have to make his way home. Tim had grown well used to his weak leg; a year had passed since the day he fell in battle, brought to his knees by a sword-stroke across the back of his thigh and then trampled by a panicked horse as he struggled hopelessly to rise. That didn’t reduce the frustration of keeping his balance on uneven cobbles beginning to grow slick with freezing rain.

Anger propelled him along, and confusion, and longing, a murky, tangled mix of emotions that he wished he had the understanding to parse through. Eben was a puzzle and a half, that was certain. So tentative and prickly the day before, so blunt today — and equally odd on both. Odd was a mild word for it. What the hell had come over him? Sleeping in that uncomfortable chair would sour any man’s mood, but Eben hadn’t been in a temper. Just — what had that fit been about, when Tim asked him questions? A curse, forsooth, what nonsense. Tim could believe it felt like that, he supposed. Clearly anxiety had him nearly out of his mind, and now that Tim knew the source of it, that at least solved some of the mystery of Eben’s behavior. But not all of it. Not the way he’d laid into those overfed leeches from the association for whatever it was, and not the way he’d responded to Tim’s kisses, to his touch.

Oh gods, Eben’s response to his kiss. He ought to have been considering what he’d say to his father. Instead, he relived the moment Eben had given in, his lips yielding, his body curving into Tim’s. Or worse, the feeling of Eben’s stiff cock in his mouth, with those long, slender legs all but wrapped around Tim’s body.

He walked a little faster and nearly tumbled arse over teakettle into the gutter. With a curse, he slowed again.

In the end he was frozen to his marrow, and still befuddled, impatient, and half hard despite it all, when he turned into the alley that led to his family’s tenement. It wasn’t a bad place by far, considering. Their neighbors were families like theirs, or young men just starting out in their professions. It was cheap, but clean enough. Tim had grown up here, and it was home. But it was confining and narrow and just small, and he missed life in the army with a ferocity he wouldn’t have believed when he was living it and pining for his own bed most nights.

The uneven stairs were familiar enough that he’d been able to manage them even when he’d had crutches for a while, after being invalided home. Now they were a minor inconvenience.

He pushed open the door, unlatched as always, and leaned up his cane against the wall of the cramped hallway so he could shake out his coat.

“Timmy?” A hoarse cough followed, and then another, trailing off into a series of wheezes.

As soon as it was quiet again, Tim called out, “It’s me, dad, I’m home.

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