Page 21 of Demon

Callan delved one hand beneath the blanket to rest it over Lonnie’s racing heart. “Is beating too hard.”

“I’m really scared, Callan.” He rolled until he could look up, finding comfort in Callan’s craggy face. “I can’t think of one reason why someone would be doing this.”

“Maybe because you’re beautiful.”

“But I’m not. I’m rather normal looking. I’m a boring professor, and I’ve never done anything to draw this kind of attention.”

Callan’s hard stare softened. He opened his mouth, then closed it, and Lonnie knew he was struggling to find his words. He waited, patient for once, knowing whatever Callan was stumbling to say would be important.

“He sees that you’re special, which makes him smart. Like you.” Callan patted his chest. “I will not let him get so close again. I promise.”

Chapter Fourteen

Callan

Callan sat in the same position even after Lonnie fell asleep with his head in his lap. Just holding the man all night had done a lot to chase away the anger and fear that had ripped through him the night before. When he’d heard Lonnie scream his name, he’d been in the living room watching another of Lonnie’s shows, and he’d torn down the hall as fast as he could. Smelling that someone had been inside Lonnie’s room had sent rage into his brain.

And then he’d seen Lonnie shaking.

His mate had been so damn scared, so Callan had tamped down the fury and taken care of him. Comforted him—and in return, he’d received comfort.

He stared down at the pretty man in his lap. Lonnie’s mouth was slightly parted, small snores escaping with every other breath. The back of his head was firmly pressed to Callan’s balls, so he’d stayed hard on and off the whole time. Now, he was hard again. Lonnie had pushed the blanket down and his T-shirt had ridden up to show his soft belly. A sexy trail of brown hair led down from his navel to disappear into the low pajama pants. Solow, Callan could see a hint of bush. He wanted to touch that curling hair so badly, both hands were in fists.

His desire for this human transcended any he’d ever felt. And it wasn’t only because of the mate bond. He found Lonnie beautiful. Sexy. And though he’d read up on ADHD to better understand the man, he just found his sometimes-odd behavior endearing. He didn’t like that it gave Lonnie trouble. Didn’t like knowing Lonnie’s brain worked overtime and that he worried so much. Lonnie couldn’t help it. And he certainly didn’t like that Lonnie didn’t think himself special. His past boyfriends and girlfriends had been stupid.

Callan planned to give him the support and understanding he needed, unlike that last boyfriend. Lonnie had pointed him out when they’d been at the college, and jealousy had made him see red. Richard was incredibly good-looking, and he’d spotted them and started heading their way. Callan had steered Lonnie away quickly, not wanting to give the guy even a chance of stealing back Lonnie. He’d thrown such a hard glare over his shoulder, Richard had scuttled off.

Lonnie shifted, pulling Callan out of the memory. When his eyes blinked open, he stared at Callan with sleepy, hooded eyes. Callan held his breath, turned on out of his mind. It took Lonnie a few moments to orient himself, obviously confused he wasn’t in his bed at first. Then those wide lips stretched into the sweetest smile.

Callan just hauled him up until he was straddling Callan’s lap. Lonnie settled against him, slumping forward, his hands on Callan’s chest.

At first, Lonnie just looked at him, running that gaze all over his horns, then face. Callan wondered if this beautiful little human liked his face. He couldn’t really be considered handsome by most. His skin wasn’t completely smooth—there were lines and scars.

So no, not handsome. Interesting, maybe. Hopefully.

He waited for Lonnie to say something, barely able to breathe. And as he waited, heat began to change Lonnie’s features. A flush filled his cheeks, his eyes went to half mast, and his sexy lips parted.

Lonnie was staring at his mouth. Then he leaned in close, locking eyes for a moment as if he were asking for permission.

“Yes,” Callan whispered.

Lonnie let out a moan that was sexy as hell as hell as he pressed his lips to Callan’s.

And Callan saw stars.

Need swamped him as he pressed his fingers into Lonnie’s back. He opened his lips, letting Lonnie inside, eliciting another of those lusty moans.

He could smell how excited Lonnie was growing—a sweet and musky scent that made his brain spin. This time, he was the one to moan, and that sound must have sparked something in Lonnie because he squirmed closer, deepening the kiss. He felt Lonnie hardening against his stomach. He was already there himself, rigid and aching. He ran his palms all over Lonnie’s back and shoulders, then his waist. He absolutely adored that Lonnie had love handles.

Lonnie took his mouth away, leaning back to look at Callan, who was digging his fingers into that softness. He didn’t dig hard—not yet. This whole situation had a gentle air to it that was new to him. He was used to rough kisses, loud grunts, not soft moans and sweet morning smiles. He didn’t even mind the morning breath.

But when Lonnie came back to his mouth, this kiss wasn’t gentle. It was like a gas-soaked torch being lit as shared lust blazed between them.

Callan was so completely in Lonnie’s thrall, it took him several moments to hear the loud knocking on the front door.

“Ignore them and maybe they’ll go away,” Lonnie whispered against his lips.

“Can’t,” Callan said as he reluctantly lifted Lonnie off his lap. “It’s my boss.”

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