Page 35 of Phoenix Chosen 2

He passes me a bag. I look inside and smile.

“Don’t drink them all at once,” he says.

“I shall savor them,” I reply and clasp his forearm. “Thank you. And may the Force be with you.”

I’ve never seen a man look so proud. “He gets it,” he says to Tyler.

“Thank you again, Jeff,” Tyler says.

We get into the kah, Tyler brings it to life with the turn of a key, and we’re away. I watch as new wonders pass by my window—distant mountains beyond the endless stretch of buildings and stone, my first glimpse at the landscape outside of this city Tyler calls Bakerville. Most of the things I see I don’t understand, but as confounding as this place is, it’s beginning to feel less like the underworld and more like just another place I’ve reached on my map. There is chaos here, but only because I’m not accustomed to its order. This is not a world for alphas like Alyx and I. We need room to spread our wings, and I can feel that many things about this place are much like a cage. I know that Tyler feels this way, too. I think his desire to get back to Circeana may even be stronger than my own.

Tyler turns and we move faster, joining a school of other kah that eventually burst out into a great channel filled with hundreds more driving at great speed—a freeway. Tyler reaches over and takes my hand.

“I’ve always wanted to do a road trip with my man,” he says. “We just need some shitty gas station snacks, a couple of Big Gulps, and a Rolling Stones best-of CD.”

Tyler opens the windows and the wind swirls about the kah’s belly, whipping up our hair and clothes. He puts his hand outside, and I do the same. The breeze tugs at my palm, Tyler’s smile is as bright as the sun, and for a moment I feel like I’m flying through the sky in my phoenix form. I open two cans of Coke, taking great pleasure in how they snap and hiss, and how the drink bubbles up from the silver spout. The cans are cold and dripping with perspiration. I pass one to Tyler and press mine against my cheek before sipping the delicious nectar.

“My mate is a Coke fiend,” Tyler says. “What are you going to do when we get back to Circeana? You’ll never be able to drink one again.”

“Perhaps I’ll ask the Great Phoenix to grant me a spring of Coke,” I say. “One as big as the marketplace fountain, big enough to bathe in.”

“Do you want ants?” he says. “Because that’s how you get ants.”

“I’ll enjoy these while I can. Their memory will be a token of one of the few good things I’ve experienced in your world.”

“Aw, come on. Iknowyou loved those movies too. And look at you. You are a natural passenger prince.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He grins. “You, lounging there with shades on, arm hanging out the window, sipping your drink. Me, driving you around like I’m your manservant.”

“Oh, I see. Since you’re my manservant, that means I can order you to do whatever I want.” I smirk and hold up my middle finger.

Tyler gasps. “What the hell did I do to deserve that?”

“It means ‘fuck me,’ doesn’t it? So why don’t we move into the back, and you can man serve me.”

“No, Kalistratos, no,” he says, choking with laughter. “Oh my god. No, it means ‘fuckyou.’”

“Ah. That certainly makes a lot more sense. So, into the back, then?”

“Someone’s horny all of a sudden.”

“Of course. It’s been, what? A day since I’ve touched you? I’m craving my mate.”

“You’re the one who refused to defile Jeff’s couch with me last night,” he says. “Anyway, we can’t just hop into the backseat. Cars can’t drive themselves. If you only knew how to drive. Then I could give you road head.”

“Road head?”

“Yeah.” He reaches across, eyes still fixed straight ahead and grabs a handful of my crotch. “I lean over and put my face on your lap. You get the idea.”

My cock is already getting stiff. I reach into Tyler’s lap and rub his bulge, then with two fingers release the waist button on his pants. He inhales softly and brings his hand back to the wheel as I rub my thumb across his underwear.

“Oh, shit,” he mutters. “Kalistratos…”

“This would be much easier with a chiton,” I say as I pull the waist of his underwear forward, freeing his cock. I spit on my palm and watch his eyes flutter and lips part as I slowly twist my hand around his head.

“I’m all for man skirts,” he breathes. “Hold on, hold on. Oh shit.”

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