Page 32 of The Buck Stops Hare

His cheeks ruddied with blush and he looked away. “I’m fine with whatever though.”

“This seems like a good venture to sink some seed money into. Buck, how are your funds doing?” Storm nudged me, but I shrugged.

“I think my land is now part of a conservatory and trust, and I get a small stipend for itsupkeep. So, I don’t have much to offer.” I wasn’t ashamed of it. I’d never taken more than I ever needed from my followers. Ostentation didn’t suit me.

“How much you need to start up?” Rayne’s voice piped up over my shoulder and Camden, Sy’s brother, rattled off numbers and brought Remmy in for terse discussion. “Really?”

A few hems and haws as they spoke had a deal struck soon after, and he was handing information to Cliff, promising us a new start in life, because with our gifts and enough knowledge, a pipedream of an evening could become a small fortune.

Maybe I should have been embarrassed, but as a god, life had always provided for me well enough that I didn’t see a need to hoard. But, having had to start over again so soon, I realizedthe days of relying on good fortune were over. I had a mate to support; one I’d never want to disappoint.

I thought I lost something in the conversation, as hands were shaking and Cliff was in my space once more, being ushered off by a few people. I scrambled to offer to clean up as usual, but they refused. All of them wanted me to spend time with Cliff, and I eased my protest. What made it a sight easier was my mate’s eyes going soft and decidedly lascivious. Something about the Stormlands, the unofficial name of their pack, brought out comfort in people who otherwise held reservations. And with Cliff’s comfort, I knew I’d see more of him than I’d coaxed free very soon.

“Are you happy, my aspect?” I offered a stretched arm and found him pliant and easily tempted into my side. He warmed me like the sun on stone as he pressed in with his solid form.

He leaned his head in, lips brushing the side of my neck and jaw for a second, before he breathed deeply. “I think so.”

Rayne had given me several human phrases that were common these days.Houston. We have liftoff.My cock chafed inside my pants, and it was all I could do not to banish them on the spot.

A firm hand rested on my upper arm; sweet breath scented with tea flowering between us. “I’ll be happier once we can go to bed.”

“You must be tired from it all.” I offered him a gentle smile and inhaled deeply, catching an earthier scent in the sweet tea air of him.

“Not really… I want to takeyouto bed.” Cliff stressed my name, but I didn’t catch his meaning until the color in his cheeks darkened and the scent of hesitant arousal made what thread-thin control I had snap like a hair.

I wrapped my arms around him with a snarl and surrounded him in the warm embrace of my power, driving us toward the small home we would temporarily reside in.

He shouted as we lifted off the ground, part dust in the wind and energy of the earth, solid in places enough just to hold my mate until he too could take an earthen form. Perhaps we’d mingle one day, drift in the breeze like Storm and Rayne often did on dreary days.

By the time we reached the house, he was laughing, clutching to nothing until he spread his arms, and we settled to the ground, my being twirling about his feet before resolving and slipping into the house with him in a flurry of wandering hands. “Grow stronger, my aspect. Learn to mingle your energy with mine and show me your many forms. I yearn to know what you will become for me.”

“I’m what you get, dude.” Cliff offered me a guilty grin that I took advantage of, dipping my thumbs into his not-quite-dimples to hold his face up to mine for a breath-stealing kiss.

“What I see in you is a kaleidoscope of things that bring me joy. You are sunbaked earth and fertile soil. You’re tumbled stone and loamy dirt, pushed aside by cloven hooves in tepid spring.” I whispered against his lips, each pause punctuated by a kiss as he melted against me.

“I—” Cliff pulled back; his eyes lit with the subtle flicker of godlike power in his depths. He looked at me strangely, brows furrowing as he reached up to touch my face in return, fingers tracing markings on a face I’d not worn centuries. “I see…”

My heart, if it could be called that, trembled as his eyes darted over my face, in their glassine surface a reflection of something I’d worn in the days where pottery sang the tune of death whistles and blood flowed in rivers the harvest season before a foul winter. I opened my mouth to protest what he saw, closing it the moment I saw the vicious sharpened points of myteeth in his eyes reflected back at me. Blue paint streaked my eyes in a mask, dark lines highlighting features in cruel ways.

He narrowed his eyes and reached to the top of my head, fingers touching not the shaved parts of my head, nor the adornments in my oiled hair, but the hat I so often wore. When he brushed it off my head, it fell to the floor rather than discorporate. The hat I’d remade a dozen times since I’d gotten it, but it was still the same hat, part of me in image, not in spirit like my clothing. So, when his fingers laced through my loose locks, brushing them back toward the thong I envisioned them tied in, I nearly melted with relief.

“That’s kinda cool. It’s like I can pick the version of you I want.” Cliff had no fear or disgust in his eyes, only awe and heat. Without any hesitation, he pulled me in, deepening and sinking into another rough kiss. His comfort in the shape of another male becoming more evident in the way his jaw moved, head tilted. And, I’d never say it, but the way he submitted to me was like honey, drawing me in with its sweetness.

“And I’ll be whatever you want,” I said, a promise in my words that I’d carry to the end of our days.

“Right now? I want you to be Buck. I want you to be strong and kind. I want you to make me feel good, feel right.” He tugged at the front of my shirt with one hand, hand gripping into my hair with the other. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget how much it bothers me.”

I groaned into his mouth as our lips crashed together once more, tongues sliding while we made our way to the bed. With effortless grace, he had his pants off, shedding them like a snake its skin, shoes going off odd ways as socks flew with but a shake. When I slid a hand under the hem of his shirt and groaned, he responded with a shuddering breath, tightening his belly at the very brush of my fingertips. When I palmed his taut muscles and swept my hand to his side, trailing my digits up to bring his shirtwith them, he ceded, throwing his head back and slipping his arm away to allow the fabric to part, messing up his thick, dark hair.

I brushed my nose along his cheek, nuzzling into his hair as my clothes went the way of all good things to earth once more so we could press against one another.

My cock had flagged mere moments before, waiting for his reaction, but under his lustful eyes and responsive noises, it rekindled, plumping still even as I lined our cocks up to rub against one another. “How should we—”

The question fizzled out on my tongue as he sank to his knees. “I’m not a god or really anything, yet. Would my worship mean anything? I don’t know you as well as I want, but I need to do this.”

My breath hitched as he took my cock in his solid fist and pumped, eyes gleaming up at me, all mossy stone, green fluorite, and inclusion-riddled jasper. Like the serpentine of Rayne’s eyes and the ring I’d made for him at Storm’s behest, I longed to adorn him in it. “As y-you wish.” I couldn’t hide my tremble.

“I don’t wish. I pray.” His husky voice held a slight rasp to it, throat raw and mouth thick with saliva, the lisp of it obvious in his words.

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