Page 6 of Gemini Hunted
Ash passes me a thick towel, monogrammed with the name of my dad’s vacation yacht, then turns away toward the coffeepot. I figure he’s giving me my space, because he’s really good like that.
“Thanks,” I repeat on a sigh, fumbling off my glasses again to blot my face.
After a little hesitation, I peel out of my wet shirt and give my back a vigorous scrub with the towel too. My chinos stay firmly in place. They’re really just damp, and I have no intention of dropping trou right in front of Ash.
I mean, they’re boat shorts. They’ll dry.
I know. I know.
It’s ridiculous to feel so shy and self-conscious about stripping down in front of a guy I just fucked into a sex coma (even if only for the first time) last night, right?
But, after all, me fucking him was Zara’s idea and not Ash’s.
Maybe he was only, you know, being polite?
I bend over to towel my legs and breathe in deeply, letting the acrid scent of coffee fill my lungs. I’m weirdly soothed by the soft chink of the silver spoon against heavy china as Ash swirls sugar and heavy cream into my coffee.
Just the way he knows I like it.
I’m not really used to being taken care of like this. In our polycule—with all these alphas and all this testosterone, plus a really strong queen—I’m usually the guy who does the babying. That means it’s normally me taking care of everyone else, and it makes me so happy to do it. Taking care of my cherished one Zara and all our guys, that’s my love language.
But I have to admit, I’m not totally hating the way Ash is taking care of me right now.
It’s actually… kind of… sweet.
Especially since he’s the first guy I’ve ever topped.
Still, when the big guy comes up behind me to rest a warm callused hand on my bare waist, I jump like a nervous cat.
“Take it easy, kid.” Gently he fishes the damp towel out of my worried fist, tosses it aside, then folds my fingers around the mug’s solid warmth. “Not gonna expect ya to jump my bones while you’re dripping and shivering in your dad’s own digs, you feel me?” He huffs out a wry chuckle. “Especially since I’m old enough to beyour dad myself.”
“Uh, thanks.” Hastily, I bury my blushing face in the steaming mug (which also carries the ship’s monogram). I mumble into the cup, “And you’re not old. You’re just right. For all of us.”
“Aw, shucks.” Ash gives a soft chuckle. “You’re good for an old guy’s ego.”
He ruffles my curly hair with a friendly hand, then leaves me to wrestle my blushes (the curse of a fair complexion) into submission and relocate my lost composure. Meanwhile, he moves quietly around the dim-lit cabin with its polished wood and gleaming brass, hanging my wet shirt and towel neatly over a heated drying rack on the wall.
Because theQueen’s Vetoreally is that luxe.
She’s an oceangoing yacht, and Dad has hosted the Queen and a bunch of his fellow senators and A-list witching world glitterati on board. So Theo Mercury’s spared no expense, especially in here. The adjacent captain’s bedroom has the only bed on board that’s big enough (barely) to sleep all eight of us.
Not that we’ve done any actual sleeping in it.
I mean… yet.
As I sip the sweet creamy bliss of fresh-brewed java, a comforting warmth seeps through me. Gradually, my fluttery pulse and jittery heartbeat settle.
Finding my dad’s yachtbobbing at anchor, just waiting for us in Icarus Harbor when we showed up for the Dean’s Challenge—along with my dad’s note, neatly typed on Arcane Senate letterhead, proclaiming his fealty to Zara as the rightful Gemini queen—was a really nice surprise.
Dad is a major bigshot in the Arcane Senate. He’s never met a bill he can’t pass or an election he can’t win. With his pompadour hair, easy charm, and megawatt smile, he’s like the Ted Kennedy of the witching world.
That makes him a good ally for Zara to have.
Still cradling my mug, I finally get my head together and turn toward Ash. “So, uh, speaking of my dad… his plane’s probably landed in DC by now. With any luck, he’s alreadywrangling the Senate to reject Cleo’s claim and stand behind Zara.”
“Like they should.” Now standing with his back to me at the helm, Ash shrugs his big shoulders.
I’m one hundred percent loyal to Zara. So, obviously, I agree. But the words I’m about to say float right out of my head and evaporate like ether.
