Page 33 of Bartender Mate

“Yeah. Supplies are in demand, though, so we might just have to let this go.” I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it over a chair. “We should be inside with Tess, anyway. Her heat is much more inviting than this dank housing, don’t you think, mate?”

“I like my space.” My mate shrugged, not rising to the dig. “Tess has the bar.” Radon stretched his arms over his head, crossing his hands behind his neck and watching my poor excuse for a striptease. “And I need this here. A place to call my own.” The look in his eyes brokered no argument, so I let it pass. Letting him rewire the tent’s climate system tomorrow wouldn’t cut into the time needed to help Tess fortify the bar against the Hunters, anyway. Not with the scribes on standby to lend a magical hand. Samantha had a stake in the game, after all, and her coven–small as it was–was prepared to put magic in front of our enemy.

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow.” A yawn broke over me, making me realize how late it actually was. “Zinc and his crew should be holding watch.” I crawled over the bed, too tired for the splendor of my mate laid out bare in front of me to stir anything but warm appreciation.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, settling against my chest, his breath warming my scales as his lashes fluttered. “You’re a good male.”

“I love you, too, Radon.” I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and let my eyes drift closed. “For always.”

13

Tess

“Oh. Fuuuuuuuck me,” Quasar breathed. “But this stuff is good.”

The male was moaning obscenely around yet another gigantic spoonful of ice cream. The guy was a bottomless pit where this Earth delicacy was concerned. We hadn’t stopped at one flavor. Oh, no. Once Quasar had devoured his first tub of ice cream, he’d insisted we try every flavor on hand–just to prove the first one hadn’t been a fluke. It hadn’t. We’d already hit up choc-mint and peanut butter cups, now we were onto the salted caramel. I guess we’d have to head into town tomorrow to replenish my stash.

“This is good, too.” The male sounded affronted by the discovery, as though he was taking umbrage that Earth had so many delicious flavors of ice cream. “Like really, really good. Why haven’t the people of Drakonis invented this yet?! All we have is slushy ice!”

His mock-outrage only made me giggle. “Steady on, fuck boy,” I teased. “It’s just ice cream.”

“Just ice cream?Justice cream?” Quasar all-but screeched. “This stuff is fucking glorious. Just you wait until I share this discovery with the others. Fuck the alcohol, we should turn this place into a gelateria. You’d make a fortune.” He smacked my spoon out of the way as I leaned over to dig into the tub he was clutching to his chest. Quasar loaded up another humongous spoonful, closing his eyes to savor the experience. I shook my head, still chuckling, and grabbed my own. “Mm-mm-mmm. Sen-fucking-sational. Almost as good as Radon’s seed flooding my mouth.”

Naturally, I lost it, spluttering around my latest spoonful.

“Fucking hell, Quasar,” I mock-grumbled once I’d gotten myself under control, wiping my mouth on the back of my sleeve. “You can’t say shit like that to me.”

“Why not?” he grinned, not the least bit repentant. “I believe in giving credit where credit is due. And after you taste Radon, I dare you to tell me I’m wrong. Oh, stars, I can’t wait to see your mouth slurping on his thick cock while Ast rides my ass…”

I opened my mouth to retort, but my brain had stalled out at the mere thought of sucking on Radon’s glorious cock while Asteroid and Quasar were lost in each other’s pleasure.

Fuck the ice cream. Quasar was right. This stuff came a paltry second to the delicious delicacy being so carelessly offered up by my irascible mate and the bastard knew it.

My dirty mind was instantly transported back to the thick member which had been pressing against Radon’s jeans as he’d stalked me earlier, right up and onto the porch. The sight of which, coupled with that vicious smirk, had made me want to beg him to take me from behind in front of the entire gathering while having my face pressed into the wall.

With difficulty, I shook the X-rated images from my mind and scowled at Quasar who was grinning at me again. “Yeah, Radon has that effect on all of us.”

“No more sex talk.” I bopped him on the nose with my spoon. “You promised.”

“I made no such promise, mate,” the Misfit retorted, sounding affronted at the accusation. “I promised not to push you into something that you weren’t ready for.”

Quasar slid down from the countertop we were perched on, side-by-side, and then he turned, placing his hands on my knees. Not pushing, not forcing, just waiting. Waiting for me to open up as we both knew I inevitably would.

I drew in a shuddering breath at the blazing intensity in his smoldering gaze.

Fuck, I’d almost forgotten that Quasar was the dangerous one.

“Where did you even hear about ice cream anyway?” I mumbled, feeling giddy in the thrall of his ever-darkening gaze. “Didn’t you just hitch a ride to Earth on a space rock?”

“There are a lot of lonely hours to be used up by a fuck boy in space travel, Tess,” the male intoned, in mock-seriousness. I smirked at his casual use of my rude nickname. “While my mates were on the bridge, I made good use of my down time by watching the cultural archives.”

I chortled. “You mean you binge watched sitcoms and bad rom coms in the hopes of wooing your fated mate?”

“Just so.”

There was nothing teasing left in Quasar’s gaze when he nodded, only pure admiration and longing. I rubbed at my chest in annoyance. Damn this infernal connection. My breath stalled out at the easy truth in his admission. It wasn’t hard to imagine this male spending all his waking hours researching ways to try to understand our ways so he could make me happy.

My knees fell open in reply to the silent question I felt emanating from deep within his soul.

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