Page 62 of The Baritone's Rival

“Do it.”

Oscar lunged, his face desperate and wild, and Trent felt a sharp pain in his neck. Then everything exploded.

His vision went white as he came, and Oscar’s arms tightened around him as the two of them vibrated together. They were soclose, they were as close as two people could be, and it was good. Better than good.

He slowly came back to himself as Oscar’s tongue gently ran over the puncture marks in his neck. Oscar sealed the wound, and Trent felt the holes close.

Oscar lifted up and brought their foreheads together, his arms joining them even more tightly, if that were possible. Trent was still inside the man, his cock not yet fully soft. His dick wanted them to stay locked together as much as Trent himself did.

“Was that okay?” Oscar asked. “I know?—”

“Sshh.” Trent kissed him lightly on the lips. “It was perfect.”

“I want it to always be perfect for you.” There was a hint of uncertainty in Oscar’s eyes.

“Youare perfect.” Trent breathed out, relaxing further into their embrace. “It’s better than I could have imagined.”

“Oh, baby, there’s so much more to come.”

Trent attacked the pancakes,stabbing a triangle of deliciousness, dipping it into syrup and butter to make itmoredelicious, and sliding it down his throat. He glanced up at Oscar, who, of course, didn’t need to eat. He was sipping elegantly on a cup of tea. Trent shot Oscar a look and shoveled more pancake into his mouth.

“Will you come to my place tonight?” Trent asked around the mouthful of sweet sponge.

The twenty-four-hour diner was hopping, considering it was the middle of the afternoon. The white noise of chatter and silverware clinking was a rolling backdrop to their conversation,and the perfume of coffee and bacon grease wafted through the air.

“You can take the time to eat, love. I’m not in a hurry. I’m sure you worked up an appetite.” Oscar winked at him. He was so annoying. And adorable.

Trent chewed, swallowed, and laid his fork down. He did need to chill for a minute, or he would get a stomachache. Oscar was right, though. He hadn’t been this ravenous in a long time.

He took a slug of coffee and glanced back at Oscar. Oscar’s eyebrows raised, a look of amusement on his face.

“What?” Trent asked.

“You are just very…animalistic right now? Are you always like this when you eat? I like it.”

“Only when I’m having pancakes at three p.m. after vigorous sex in a semi-public place.” Trent rolled his eyes and leaned back. “Now answer my question.”

“Ah.” Oscar took another sip. “I would very much like to be with you tonight, but I cannot.”

“Why?” It was silly of Trent to assume that Oscar would want to immediately spend a ton of time together, even if they were mates. He didn’t like this one-eighty turn he’d taken. He liked people to needhim, and not the other way around.

“We…we’re going into the covenhouse in Canarsie tonight.”

“I’ll come. Just let me go home and get my gear. I’ll watch your back.” The words were out without Trent even thinking about them. Trent marveled at the switch that had flipped inside him. Now that he’d accepted that Oscar was his mate, his protectiveness and possessiveness were at a ten.

“You can’t come, Trent. You’re human.” Oscar’s voice was soft and compassionate, but Trent bristled at the words, nonetheless.

“I can kill a vampire just as well as anyone else. You know that. And you haven’t seen me fight when I’m fully armed and prepared.”

“I know how good you are, Trent,” Oscar said, reaching across the diner table and resting his hand on Trent’s forearm. It was warm and comforting, even though Trent wanted to be annoyed.

“But if someone tears out your throat or disembowels you, you’redead.” Oscar’s voice shook as he spoke. “I can’t take care of you and also do what needs to be done.”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me!” Trent heard his voice getting louder, and an old woman in a purple cardigan glared at him from the next table. He glared right back.

“But I’m your mate, Trent.” Oscar sighed. “I won’t be able to help myself. If you’re there, all my focus will be on protecting you. Lillian would never allow it.”

There was a screech of ceramic against linoleum as Trent pushed the plate of pancakes away. He was being a brat, he knew that, but the thought of Oscar being in danger without him there to protect him made his skin itch.

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