Page 26 of Secretary's Obsession

Making his way up the path, George opened the front door, inhaling deeply as he walked inside, closing the door behind him.

Home.The feeling hit him like a punch to the chest. George made his way over to his huge, plush couch, slumping on the cushions, deliberately throwing a couple of the pillows onto the floor. They looked like a bright invitation to go rolling on his rug, although he knew Scott wouldn’t see things that way.

There was still a hint of Scott’s scent in the air, and George groaned as he rolled around so he was lying on the couch, staring at his ceiling.

Scott can’t help the way he is. You saw the home he grew up in.

Actually, George hadn’t seen much of Scott’s parents’ home at all—he’d been too busy chasing demons down the stairs. Except somehow, in Scott’s mind, he equated his pristine surroundings as his way of having control over his space, of being seen as successful in a chaotic world. George wished his sweet mate could see how he looked in George’s eyes—amazing, successful and so damn sexy when he let go of his anxiety for five minutes. When the demon melted in his arms…

No good thinking about that right now.George glanced at the clock. He still had half an hour to go before he was due to pick Scott up.

I could have a shower.

George closed his eyes and groaned again. The shower was becoming another main point of contention between them. Scott’s shower had glass walls, bright chrome fixtures, and glorious water pressure. In the time George had been staying with his mate, he couldn’t recall one time when he’d had a shower without Scott lurking outside of it, waiting with a spray cleaning bottle and cloth in hand.

“You can come in with me if you like.” George remembered the first time he’d mentioned it. He was always up for sexytimes, and the idea of Scott’s wet body pressed up against his was enough to get his cock to perk up. But Scott’s look of absolute horror was the fastest track to droops-ville he’d ever experienced, at least for George’s poor cock.

“The cleaning products will upset your bear’s nose,” Scott had explained, totally getting the wrong idea, as if George’s cock hadn’t been waving at him thirty seconds before. “I can wait until you’re finished.”

And so yeah, any chance George had of just relaxing the stiffness from his muscles, stemming from being in the taxi all day, got lost due to Scott’s horror at water leaving marks on his bright clean surfaces.

Heaving himself off his couch, George went through into his bedroom, smiling ruefully at the half a dozen pillows and cushions still sprinkled across his bed, and into the bathroom.

“Hello, watermarks, my old friend,” he murmured, reaching into his shower and turning on the water. His showerhead wasn’t as powerful as the one at Scott’s place, but it did the job. Shucking off his clothes, smirking at his second mini rebellion for the afternoon, he dropped them on the floor.

George stepped into the spray, turning so that the water pelted on his back. “Ah, yes, this is what I needed.” George sighed as he felt his back muscles relax. He hadn’t realized just how tense he’d become living with Scott.

It wasn’t just the shower or Scott’s uncomfortable couch. It was all the little things, like having to wash and dry his coffee cup every time he used one or making sure his clothes were put in his bag, or the washing hamper the absolute second he took them off. If George didn’t do it, then Scott was there, zipping around behind him and cleaning up after him as if he was an errant toddler. George didn’t like the way that made him feel, but he really wasn’t sure what he could do about it.

I should go and spend some time in the forest tomorrow, let my bear have a run,George decided as he wet his hair and reached for his shampoo.Get some mud between my claws, a few twigs in my fur, and maybe roll around a bit in the grass just because I can.

Shifting was another thing George didn’t like to suggest to his mate he needed to do. Scott wouldn’t say no. He never did.No, the damn man would probably follow me with one of those mini vacs and a brush, trying to keep my fur clean.Chuckling, because George didn’t think Scott was that bad, or at least he hoped not, he washed his hair out and shut off the water.

“My goodness,” he said in a false high tone as he stepped out onto the tiles. “There’s water drips on the floor!” He laughed again at his own nonsense, swiping at his discarded shirt with his foot and smushing the shirt over the drips. “And now it’s clean again.”

Dry and primped as much as George would ever be, he wandered back into his bedroom and pulled out a fresh shirt and pants.I wonder if Scott will even notice I changed my shirt?He checked his reflection in the mirror. His reflection was shaking his head.Unfortunately, for all Scott’s attention to detail when it came to his work and his fastidiousness about keeping the house clean, when it came to his mate, it was as if Scott barely noticed him at all.

“It’s still early days yet.” George saluted his reflection and went through the house again, picking up his keys and heading out the door. Locking up behind himself, George had a sinking feeling that it wouldn’t matter how long he and Scott were together, Scott was always going to prefer his pristine living space and his work duties to spending time with his scruffy mate.

Chapter Fifteen

Scott

Whatever was going on with George—Scott felt there was something—a block prevented him from finding out what it was. His mate had been an hour late the day before and Scotthadn’t wanted to make a fuss, mating was about finding balance. Wasn’t it?

Was he balanced? Not in the damn slightest. Something his demon kept pointing out every time Scott’s anxiousness took charge.

You’ll drive him away with your pernickety behavior. Our poor honey bear can’t relax for a moment without you fussing every time he does something.

I am not fussing!

You followed him into the bathroom, cleaner in hand, and when he offered for us to get in with him, you gave him some baloney about the spray upsetting his bear's nose.

Well, it would.Those chemicals could be harsh. There was no way he wanted to inflict that on his blissful one.

He was inviting us to shower with him, not for you to spray that cleaner on the glass to get rid of water spots. How can we be connected when you don’t notice when our honey bear has something else in mind? He doesn’t want you cleaning every five minutes. Why won’t you listen to me?

Was I really that bad?

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