Page 11 of Bitter Heat
Funny how the idea of being called a hero fell flat these days. It used to be a dream of his—for people to see him as the salvation of Heelies Enterprises. He’d more than once drunkenly gloated that he’d save them all from Xan’s incompetence and perversions. But that inebriated dream was unbearably disgusting in hindsight, and Xan was…
Well, Xan was annoying, no doubt. But, so what? He was also a good man. A deserving man. At least Caleb swore it was true. He said that Janus had been the villain of the piece the whole time. That he’d been wrong to try to steal what rightfully belonged to Xan—both inheritance and omega. Caleb was usually right.
The stars twinkled their agreement.
From now on, Janus would make do with what rightfully belonged to him and him alone—which was essentially nothing. He had a small monthly income—a payout from their grandfather’s will—but after walking away from any pretense of work at Heelies Enterprises, he’d been cut off from that veritable font of money.
Not that his uncle had been cruel about it. He’d made it plain that if Janus came to his senses and returned to the city and a job there, he’d hook him back up to the firehose of cash. But that wasn’t what Janus wanted anymore.
Funny how once a man had seen through the delusions of power and money, it became almost impossible to crave them again. And there were few experiences like being on death’s door three damned times to do just that.
The water caressed him, seeming to agree. He buoyed up, lighter than before, and then dropped down lower again. Examining his current motives to see if he was a good man yet, he still came up short.
Being here, now, in Hud’s Basin…was that whathetruly wanted? Or was this an endeavor he thought Caleb would find attractive? That was a question he found he didn’t know the answer to anymore. He wasn’t sure he cared. Somewhere in the darkness of lingering between life and death too many times, he’d stopped thinking that motivations mattered half as much as outcomes.
In the past, his motivations had always been bad. And even if they were bad now, it didn’t matter. So long as the outcomes he produced didn’t hurt anyone else. No more seducing contracted omegas for fun. No more drinking, or partying, or making outrageous bets simply because he could.
He could live a good life without believing in anything, including wolf-god, and without being loved by anyone, especially Caleb. He believed this. Because if he didn’t, then he should just stop floating now and let the water take him down.
He rose up then, shaking off those morbid thoughts. Two of the boarding house’s windows, visible from where he trod water, shone with electric light. On until nine, he remembered and wondered what time it was now. He swam to the shore and shivered in the cooling night air, naked and without a towel. His alpha cock shriveled with cold, and he dripped from every extremity, even his nose. He laughed under his breath, stretching his arms wide, closing his eyes to breathe in deeply—
—And scented the hint of ripe berries and musk.
“Are you always such an exhibitionist?” Kerry’s smoky, deep voice drifted softly from somewhere not far away. “Or is this just for me?”
Janus gripped his crotch as his eyes flew open.
Kerry stood nearby with a large, green towel open wide, and his head turned demurely to the side as if he hadn’t just gotten a great big gander of exactly what Janus had to offer. All shriveled up at that. Janus felt the urge to tell the man that the cold water had the usual effect and that he was actually quite notably sized. He held off, though. He didn’t need to impress this omega with his cock’s length and girth. He didn’t need to impress him at all.
Wolf-god, he struggled against the urge anyway.
Kerry murmured, “I thought if you went swimming, then you might forget a towel, and it looks like I was right.”
“You…” Janus struggled to form a sentence that didn’t defend the size of his dick. “I thought you were going to bed.”
“As I said, a little bird told me that our city standard friend wouldn’t think ahead about a towel, so…” Kerry shrugged and shook the towel at him again, his face still turned away.
“That little bird was Kiwi?” Janus asked, taking the towel and wrapping it around his waist in a hurry.
“He’s chatty if you know his language.”
“And you know it?”
“Obviously.”
“I see.” Though he didn’t, but he wanted to. Janus suddenly wanted Kerry to teach him how to speak to birds and how to lookthatbeautiful in the starlight with wind-whipped hair.
No! He didn’t want any such thing. He was here to learn to be a nurse, not fraternize and flirt. “Well, thank you for walking all the way down here. That was thoughtful.”
“It was,” Kerry agreed with a small chuckle that burned right up Janus’s spine. He coughed slightly, hoping to forestall any reaction beneath the towel. Wolf-god help him. This attraction was unexpected. And unwelcome.
The moon shone in Kerry’s eyes, making them seem otherworldly. His long hair was free again, lifted by the breeze from the water. He stood with an effortless, sexy grace that Janus had noted by the table, and yet it was evident he was holding back from true relaxation. Even his overture of friendship with the towel felt reserved and apart, as though he’d passed it over to Janus through a hole in an invisible wall.
“I’ll let you get dressed,” Kerry said, turning his back. “I trust you can find your way back up?”
“Wait!” Janus hadn’t meant to sound so urgent. He cleared his throat and said more calmly, “Do you mind walking with me?”
“Afraid of the wild cats?”
