Page 59 of Fated Mates and How to Seduce Them
Knowing André had a thing for sex outdoors, Ian decided to throw on even more fuel because he was a little shit. “Promise to rim me before you fuck me and I’ll let you do it right against the car.”
The hunger that flared across André’s face was hot and unmistakable. “You’re on.”
The villa was very nice. Also, thankfully, remote. André had barely parked before pulling Ian out of the car, whirling him around, and rimming him as promised before fucking him against the side of the car. After edging him for a full hour, Ian had been more than willing to go.
Hot sex was so much fun with André. Nothing compared.
The sex had been fast and furious because it was icy cold out here, but the chill against their skin even as he was overheating from the inside felt amazing. Ian had loved every second of it, very thankful his boyfriend was strong enough to cart him inside. His legs had been shaking too hard to manage walking right then.
So far, Ian could attest there were nice shade trees around the house, the living room had a wide, comfortable sofa, and there was a kitchen table. No further details made much of a dent as André focused on consuming him against those surfaces. There was even a bedroom on the main floor, which André eventually dragged him into.
Sleeping did not seem to be on the agenda for this vacation. Ian wasn’t exactly complaining.
After three rounds, even André’s stamina had to call for a time-out, and they decided a snack was a good idea. Well, Ian would be André’s snack, but sustenance would be had all around.
Ian sent André into the kitchen alone because, well, his legs still shook. He also had no idea where his clothes had ended up. Maybe the front foyer? He wanted at least boxers on before wandering around in a house he’d never been to before.
When his legs felt stable enough to hold him, he went hunting for clothes. Ah-ha! Theywerein the foyer—or close to it. Hepulled on boxers, collected pants and shirt tossed over the back of the couch, and got a better look at the two-story house. Very modern taste in furniture, and with all the floor-to-ceiling windows, it brought in tons of natural light. It had stunning views, too. As expected of a wealthy family, to have a house as amazing as this only to visit it maybe three times a year.
Come to think of it, could André cook? Being a born vampire who didn’t need human food, had he ever spent time in a kitchen? Ian grew concerned. Mostly for himself. He’d better get in there and take over if it looked like André was fumbling.
He padded over the hardwood floors on silent feet, rounding the corner into the kitchen, which was just as large as his dorm room. Talk about a chef’s wet dream. Everything was marble and stainless steel.
André leaned against the island in the middle, hissing into the phone in a low tone, “No. I told you. I can’t go. I can’t risk it.”
What was this? Was André battling some kind of trouble? Risk what?
“Mom. Please. Stop arguing with me about this. I know I always go with you, I just can’t this time. Take Benedict and Felix if you want the company. I know, I know, but I can figure that out. I—” André’s head came up as he spied Ian walking toward him, and his expression became guarded and shuttered.
Mrs. Castor said something, and André’s attention snapped back to the phone. “No. I’ll handle it. Look, I’m on my trip with Ian right now. I’ll think about it when I get back. Yes, Wednesday. All right? Bye.”
This did not sound good. It sounded problematic. Ian caught his hand and looked up into his face, brows drawn together in concern. “What was that about?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” André avoided his gaze, which he absolutely never did.
The internal alarm bells sounded. Yeah, no, he had no intention of brushing this off. “André, you routinely help me with situations. If there’s something going on, even if I can’t help, I’d like to at least know about it.”
André looked away from him, expression unhappy. “Mom needs to go to France for work and, like usual, wants to take me with her. I told her no.”
That made sense of some of what he’d said, but not all of it. “I see. Were you supposed to do something in France as well? You kept saying you’ll figure it out.”
“It’s an event thing, nothing big.” André waved this off.
Ian had the distinct impression that, for the first time ever, André had just lied to his face. He would be mad about it, but under the distress was another emotion—fear. André’s tight grip on his hand communicated that much. It distressed Ian in turn. Just what was his lover so afraid of?
“Your mother insists you need to be there?” He’d spoken the words slowly, watching each nuance of André’s expression.
“Yeah, but I don’t. I can send someone else, organize things from here. It’s fine.” André smacked a kiss against his forehead. “What do you want to eat? We’ve got all sorts of things in the fridge—”
“André. Do not gloss over this. I don’t want you arguing with your mother or avoiding her by taking me on a trip somewhere.”
“It’s not what I’m doing.”
Bullshit.
“I-I just wanted time with you, uninterrupted. It’s our first getaway together.”
There was that fear again, reflected in his eyes. Ian didn’t understand it. Had he done or said something to make André uneasy with him? Or did this have nothing to do with him?
