Chapter Eight

Demi’s senses were on overload. His mind and attention skittered from his ass to his mouth. Trey’s cock was drilling him with fast, hard strokes while the cop’s blood coated his throat. The intensity of the dual pleasures caught him by surprise. No wonder his family had fussed over this, treated it as a life-changing event—because it was. Everything he’d done before this, every sip of blood, every jerk-off marathon, was nothing compared to the transcendent experience of being fucked and fed in tandem.

He pulled deeply from Trey’s vein, clutching him close. He wrapped his legs around the man’s muscular ass to help him pound into Demi’s greedy one. Nothing was enough. He wanted closer, harder, faster. A wave of orgasm crashed over him. He bit deeper into Trey’s neck in response. Warmth spread over his torso and up his stuffed channel, confusing him until he realized that Trey had come, too. The noises the man made were primitive, fierce. They sent shivers down Demi’s spine and caused him to come once again.

He shook and clawed and thumped his heels against Trey, mindless with it all, until the sounds his lover made changed tone. His papa’s warnings came to the fore. Retracting his fangs, Demi licked the wounds closed before he went limp. Now the only thing joining him to Trey were the man’s hands and cock still embedded all the way inside Demi’s ass.

He forced his eyes open and stared at him. “Are you all right?” He looked for signs that he’d drunk too much or otherwise hurt the man he loved.

Trey smiled before he blinked rapidly a few times. “I think I’m supposed to ask you that question.”

Trey carefully pulled out and slid over to lie beside him. Demi missed the vacancy immediately and wondered how long the man would need before he could fuck him again. Demi rolled onto his side and placed his hand on Trey’s chest.

“I’m fine. Deliriously so. But I’m afraid I forgot my own strength. Did I hurt you?”

Compared to Demi’s paleness, Trey’s skin was too dark for bruises to be easily seen, at least not according to Demi’s vision. He loved the contrast, though, when he looked at them touching.

Trey picked up his hand and kissed the knuckles. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He sighed and his body went lax. “I just need a minute to rest up. That was…intense.”

“Oh, you should have juice to replace the blood I took.”

Tugging his hand free, he jumped off the bed and went over to the small refrigerator Alex kept in his room. Emil had already stocked it with Trey in mind. There were cold snacks, pastries and lots of refreshing drinks to get them through the night.

Demi grabbed an apple juice for his man and a lemon tart for himself. He raced back to the bed as he stuffed the treat into his mouth. By the time he got back, Trey was already asleep. Poor baby. Demi had worn him out. With a smile of satisfaction, Demi carefully got back up next to him and waited patiently for the man to wake again—tried to, anyway. It was all so exciting and better than anything he’d dreamed of. He wanted to do it again and again. Not only on this night, but for the rest of their lives.

 

* * * *

 

When Demi opened his eyes the next morning, he immediately knew he was in bed alone. Even after only one night, he’d already become used to having Trey’s big body to snuggle against. Each time that they’d turned to one another, it had been amazing, and when they were too tired to fuck, they’d cuddled and eaten Emil’s fabulous food. Those simple domestic memories were almost as good as the sex. He couldn’t wait for the day to end so that they could do it all again, although they hadn’t had a chance to discuss the transition of Demi over to Trey’s place.

He traced the rumpled sheet by his side, feeling the warmth left there. Trey hadn’t gotten up too long ago. Then he heard the shower running. Of course, Trey had to get an early start because he worked. Maybe, though, there was time for a quick one in the shower? He’d gladly blow Trey if that was how he wanted to start his day.

Throwing off the covers, he rose. Trey walked in before he’d taken more than a few steps, toweling his head and looking sexy as hell. Although not aroused. More’s the pity.

The man stopped as he spied Demi. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I have to get to the station and keep at the Father Ted investigation.”

Demi tried to hide his disappointment. “That’s fine. I understand. Except,” he added with a frown, “isn’t it Saturday?”

Trey paused in the act of picking up his underwear from the floor. “I’m a cop. Weekends don’t mean shit, especially when I’ve got a case like this one that’s stalling out.”

“Oh, of course. I understand.” He bent to help his man gather up his clothing. “Are you wearing this suit?”

Trey took the pants out of his hands. “Yeah, I really don’t feel like going home to change, and while this is a little more upscale than my daily wear, it’ll do.”

Demi stood twining his fingers. “I could go and get something else for you, if you like. Bring it to the station. I mean, I should start moving my stuff to your apartment anyway.”

In the process of zippering his pants, Trey paused. “What?”

A ripple of unease crept up Demi’s spine. “That’s where we’re going to live, right? There’s no room here, and I figured you wouldn’t like that anyway. You’re not a hive species, so you want your own space. I’m totally fine with that. As much as I love my dads, I don’t want them underfoot while we’re getting to know one another better.”

Trey shook his head slowly. “Demi, you aren’t moving in with me and I’m not moving in here, either.”

The unease intensified before he understood what Trey was saying. He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, don’t be so old-fashioned. Is it your family? Are they like really conservative and no living together before we’re married? Seriously, Trey, that’s so nineteenth century.” He sighed and moved away restlessly. “But I get it if it’s important to you. I can wait. Just not too long, please,” he said, eyeing Trey.

The man continued to stand and stare. “Demi…”

He shrugged. “So, a quick period of engagement, followed by a spring wedding. I do love pastels. And maybe tomorrow we can go out and get me a ring? I know it’s kind of silly, but I like the idea of wearing one before the wedding. Tiffany is open on Sundays.”

No, dummy, not there. It’s too expensive. “Or, wherever you like to buy jewelry,” he amended.

Trey’s expression remained stony, unreadable except that it didn’t mean anything good.

“Say something, Trey.” Demi felt truly naked as he stood there waiting for his man to respond. It wasn’t his lack of clothing. It was how he’d laid all his love, his hopes and dreams out before this man, and he was very afraid Trey was going to do something horrible with them.

Trey closed his eyes briefly before coming over to him. “Demi, there’s no moving in together, no engagement and no wedding. Not now, maybe not ever. Last night was amazing, but it was a necessity for you and a favor from me. I’m sorry if you didn’t understand that.”

Demi’s blood iced over and he had trouble catching his breath. “What do you mean a ‘favor’? Like you fucked me to be nice? It was a chore?”

Trey grimaced. “I stated that badly. It was something that I did because your fathers asked me to. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise because you’re too young by my estimation. If Harry hadn’t approached me about doing this, I would have continued to keep my distance. I’ve never intended to lead you on.”

“You don’t love me.” Demi hated how small his voice sounded. How young and pathetic.

Trey swallowed hard enough for his bobbing Adam’s apple to catch Demi’s attention. It led him to the spot over the man’s jugular where he’d taken his first real feeding of blood.

“My feelings for you are complicated.”

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”

“It means that I have feelings for you and desire you in way that bothers me. It has from the beginning, when you looked at me with those worshipful eyes from behind a teenage face.”

“I’m an old man compared to you!” He flung the fact out as if it could somehow pierce the wall Trey was erecting between them.

“You know it’s more complicated than that.” Trey paced away, snatched up his shirt and shoved his arms in. “When I look at you, I see someone not quite grown. I’ve been really struggling with my attraction to you. A big part of me believes it’s wrong, hates me for what I did last night.”

Demi flung his arms out. “That’s ridiculous. Even by the contrived birth information on my ID, I’m of legal age to have sex with.”

“I don’t give a fuck what the Commonwealth of Massachusetts thinks. I have to live with myself, by my own code of honor. You’ve always been too young to my eyes, and a piddling eight months or so isn’t enough time to change that. I slept with you for your health and because the idea of any other man doing it made my head explode.”

Trey fumbled with his shirt buttons before realizing some had come off the previous night and gave up. That small evidence of how much he’d wanted Demi helped ease the pain of the rejection a little bit. Only a little, though.

“So you do love me?”

“I don’t know. Jealousy isn’t love. I’ve heard plenty of murderers conflate the two to justify their actions. It disgusts me, and I’m not going to go throw around that same illogic to justify my actions. All I can say is that I care for you, enough that I’m not going to set up house and take away what’s left of your childhood.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Trey.” Demi held his arms out wide. “This is me all grown up. If you don’t believe me, ask Papa.”

“How about you ask your dad?” Trey retorted. “Ask your human father what he thinks of your giving up the choices in front of you to tie yourself to one man.”

Demi dismissed the idea with a toss of his head. “Dad grew up in a different time, had a different experience. It’s not relevant. I know my own mind on this. I want you.”

Grabbing his socks, shoes and jacket, Trey said, “Yeah? You think? Tell me that again in five years. No, ten. Then we’ll see.”

“That’s ridiculous. In ten years you’ll be…”

“Old.” Trey’s lips thinned. “That’s another thing, isn’t it, Demi? I’m human, just that, not a hybrid or changed. I’ve got maybe fifty years left in my life, and everything at this point is all downhill. You like how I fucked you silly? Then what? I popped right off because, at my age, I can’t recover as fast as someone younger—alien or human alike.”

Trey plopped down on the edge of the bed and tugged on his socks. “Pretty soon, you’d be lucky if I want to do it once week. I won’t be able to keep weight off like I do now, no matter the amount I exercise. How does a beer gut sound to you of the perpetually flat stomach?”

Trey slipped on his shoes and tied one with enough force that the lace broke. He cursed and stood again. “Bad teeth, bad hair, sagging skin, liver spots.” He shrugged on his jacket. “Death is both quick and slow for us mere humans.”

Demi sniffed back tears that threatened to leak out. “I don’t care about any of that. I love you, Trey.”

“Maybe.” He tossed his tie around his neck. “If you do, the ten years won’t matter, especially for someone like you. It’s a blip in time.” He headed for the door.

“Don’t you walk out on me!” Panic was setting in. He lashed out. “I’m not waiting that long for sex. I’ll…I’ll fuck other men.”

With his hand on the doorknob, Trey turned to look at him. “Good. You should see what it’s like with someone who isn’t me. You won’t truly know if I pleased you until you’ve had more experience.”

Demi felt as if he’d been punched. “You want other men to have me?”

“Christ on a stick, no! But this is about what’s best for you. This is for your own good, Demi, and that’s the end of it.”

With that parting shot that was like both a stab wound and a fervent kiss, Trey left and quietly closed the door behind him. Demi crumpled to the ground, despair washing over him. How had his beautiful ceremony ended like this? He threw back his head and howled.

 

* * * *

 

“I’ve got some shitty news, boss.”

Trey turned and snarled at his partner. “Really? ’Cause this morning didn’t start out sufficiently miserable already?” Karl’s eyes went wide, making Trey feel bad. It wasn’t his fault that Trey had made such a hash of things with Demi.

Karl held up his palms. “Whoa, sorry. I take it things didn’t go so well last night?”

“Actually, they went great. It was the best experience of my whole fucking life. It was this morning that stank.” He huffed. “And this isn’t the time or place for my hissy fit. What’s going on?”

“We need to get down to the holding cells. I got a call from the desk sergeant on my way over. She figured she’d start with me because we’re old friends, and I assured her I would be the one to give you the bad news.”

Trey’s heart sank as he changed directions from the squad room to the elevator. “It’s the kid, isn’t it? He’s dead.” He didn’t even bother to frame it as a question because, of course, that was the story. Nothing else of importance could cause Karl to be so grim.

“Yeah.” Karl stood with his hands shoved in his back pockets. “They found him a few hours ago and spent the time since running through the correct protocols while covering their asses.”

The elevator doors opened. “How’d he do it?” Trey entered and pressed the button.

Karl’s expression turned sourer, if that were possible. “He didn’t. It wasn’t suicide, but straight up homicide.”

“What?” For the second time that morning, Trey felt off kilter, as if the world had changed into something unrecognizable since he’d gotten into bed with Demi. Nothing seemed to be making any sense. “How is that even remotely possible?”

“That’s what we’re about to find out. The details are sketchy so far.”

Trey was shaking his head before Karl finished speaking. “Except we don’t really need them, do we? We know how it happened. Unless one of our people was bribed into doing it, the answer to how someone could break into a locked cell and kill a prisoner is obvious.”

“Yup.”

They said nothing more as they rode to the right floor, got out and followed the sounds of a whole bunch of people losing their shit. The relevant cell was surrounded by cops of various ranks. A lot of whispered conversations were taking place. One earnest-looking newbie stood talking to a sergeant with a red face and maybe tears in his eyes. Christ, what a mess. And so predictable. Trey felt ashamed that he hadn’t worried about this eventuality, not that there was any way in particular that he could have stopped it from happening. There was no human-based protocol to prevent the aliens from doing what they were intent on. Still, the guilt ate at him. It made for a nice chaser to the crap already residing in his gut over Demi.

He and Karl pushed forward, everyone parting for them with various degrees of relief and resentment. As the arresting officers, they’d brought this trouble to their door, but that also made them point men on the problem. With a nod at the presiding officer, Trey stepped up to the doorway of the cell and winced at the sight and smells that greeted him.

Death was never pretty. All kinds of hideous things happened to the human body when it expired. He was glad that the room was cordoned off as a crime scene and he wasn’t kitted up to enter, not that he needed a closer look at the sad remains of the kid who’d sneered at him during the interviews. The poor boy was lying naked and face down on his narrow bed, his head at an angle that was unnatural. His long hair obscured most of his face, and yet it still caused a flash of memory that grabbed Trey by the nuts and had him inhaling a shocked breath.

He saw Demi sprawled on his stomach beside him, breathing deeply in sleep. An almost smile graced his beautiful lips that were puffy from the many kisses they had shared. The slender back tapered down to a narrow waist before flaring out over a high, tight ass…

“Fuck,” he breathed out the word and would have staggered back if not for Karl’s sturdy presence.

“Easy, boss,” his partner murmured.

“Sorry. He looks so much like—”

“I know. It’s not though, yeah? And look… It’s Paz.”

That helped. Trey focused on the doctor examining the body. It was a stroke of luck that it was someone they could trust with the truth. He swept his gaze over the cell, and, seeing nothing out of place, looked down at the door’s handle. It had been crushed. No surprise there. Although how their quarry managed to gain entrance to a cop shop and leave undetected remained a mystery for the moment. It would have taken nothing to break into the cell.

Paz rose from where he’d been squatting beside the body and came over. “His neck has been broken,” he said without preamble. “I’d say during sex.”

“I guess that explains why he’s nude,” Trey remarked.

Paz’s gaze dropped. “Yes. Whoever did it at least made it quick, and coming from behind probably means the boy died without even knowing what was happening.”

“Hard to believe it was intended to be merciful,” Karl observed.

Paz’s eyes turned flinty. “No, I expect it was merely a way to ensure it was quiet. I’ll know more once we’ve done the post-mortem.”

Trey raised his eyebrows. “They have you doing those on your own?”

“No, but I’m sure the coroner will be happy to have me do the scut work of informing the lead officer of the case.” He quirked his lips. “I’ll call you.”

“Thanks.” Trey backed away and turning, found himself face-to-face with the custody officer. “How the hell did this happen?” He kept his tone light because making enemies never helped, and he knew that no one had done anything wrong. All the cops were trained to deal with humans, not aliens with super strengths and a millennium of advanced tech.

The woman’s expression gave nothing away, although she had to be pissed. “That’s something we are still trying to ascertain.” She pointed up at one corner of the hallway. “All the video feed has been compromised. From about zero three hundred to zero three thirty, every manned monitoring station showed an empty corridor, just like it’s supposed to. A wellness check was performed every hour on the hour, or thereabouts,” she amended.

“No one heard or saw anything. The tech guys are on it, but I think the answer has to be somehow the feed was put on a loop to hide whoever broke in here.” She flicked her hand toward the door. “How they managed to do that is a real mystery, too. But,” she added with a frown, “it was someone from the outside. No way one of my people did this. I’ll stake my career on it.”

Trey nodded. “I agree. Nothing in my report is going to suggest otherwise. I mean, look at the state the prisoner is in. He obviously knew his killer or he would have screamed the house down.”

The women smiled grimly. “That’s my take, too.”

Of course, he didn’t point out that a gun would have kept the kid quiet, as well. There was no use in raising that obvious point. He knew once the tech guys did their thing that they would confirm the tampering angle. No sense is stressing anyone else out more than necessary. He was doing a sufficient amount of freaking out for all of them.

And just when he thought his morning was as shitty as possible, he caught sight of someone striding down the hall who tweaked his misery up another notch.

“Duncan, I heard about what happened.” Craig was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T, obviously having a day off.

Before he could respond, they all had to step away farther to give the morgue people access to the room and body. It gave Trey a few extra seconds to marshal his response. His first thought was to hand Craig a polite ‘fuck off’. On reflection, he decided that wasn’t a great idea.

He strove to hide his emotions—all of them, from his guilt and misery over how he’d made a complete hash of things with Demi, to his guilt and frustration over how he’d failed to get the dead kid to talk. His fuck-ups were going to hurt a lot of people, including a good chunk of the humans who had no idea what their world was dealing with.

“Yeah,” he finally said, “it sucks. And it looks like someone breached our security, which is going to bring the brass down on everyone’s head.” It needed to be said because while that aspect of things didn’t rate high on his lists of worries, he had to at least act like a regular cop in this situation.

Craig’s eyes popped. “Wait! So this wasn’t a suicide?” He whistled. “Damn, I thought it was bad, but this is shit-your-pants kind of bad. I suppose that’s better than one of our own going rogue.”

“We appreciate the moral support and all that, Jefferson,” Karl added, “but this isn’t your worry.”

“Isn’t it?” They watched the body bag being wheeled out. Craig pointed at it. “That was one of mine, even if I never had a chance to help him. This is vice related, so I want in.”

Trey scrubbed at his face, realizing for the first time that he hadn’t had a chance to shave. That thought led to Demi, however, so he quickly dropped both his hand and that line of thinking. “Like Karl said, we appreciate it, but how can you help?”

“Assuming this was done on the orders of my Dark Knight, I can start tracking down his boys, rattle them to maybe get more information about who and where he is.”

Trey nodded. “That might help. Do you know a boy named Mateo?”

Craig nodded. “Yup. I know who you mean.”

“We were chasing him down as a lead when this dead kid popped up riding Father Ted’s bike. We dropped Mateo because this was obviously a better line to tug. If you can corral Mateo, it would free us to pursue what happened here.”

While he hated asking Craig for a favor, neutralizing the current alien threat mattered too much for his hurt feelings to get in the way.

“I can do that. I’ll get on it right now.”

“Thanks. Sorry about ruining your day off.”

Craig shrugged. “It’s the job, right? Not like I had any big plans anyway.” For a moment, he looked kind of sad, wistful even, which was ridiculous. Craig had never needed anyone to make his life meaningful. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks,” Trey said again and watched Craig walk away. He tried not to stare at the perfect bubble butt the man’s jeans accented. Then when he failed, was surprised by how much that muscular ass didn’t matter to him. He only wanted one type now, and it was attached to a smaller, more winsome body.

He shook at the force of that desire. “Christ, I need coffee—and maybe a lobotomy.” He took off with Karl at his side.

“Okay, maybe now would be a good time for you to explain how a spectacular night turned into a crappy morning. Did he, ah, not appreciate your performance, or something?”

He couldn’t look his partner in the eye. “Actually, he loved it far too much and wanted a lifetime of encores. That’s the problem.”

“I’m not following.”

“Forget it. I’m sure as hell trying to. We’ve got work to do.”

Even as he said the words, he knew he was lying to Karl and fooling himself. He wasn’t making any real effort to put thoughts of Demi out his mind. The boy was firmly lodged in all parts of his brain, the thinking ones and the emotional ones. His body ached with the memory of what they’d done together. His worn-out dick was trying to rally at the mere mention of the boy. No matter what he’d insisted that morning as he’d eviscerated Demi’s hopes and dreams, Trey knew that this whole thing would end with his heart broken far more than the half-alien’s could ever be.

Because he was in love with Demetrius Stelalux.

 

* * * *

 

Whatever the other boys saw on Demi’s face when he entered the dance floor, they immediately shut up and asked no uncomfortable questions. He’d successfully avoided both his fathers all morning, letting them believe that he’d crept into his bed to sleep in after his busy night. Undoubtedly, they were feeling conflicted about seeing him too, knowing what they did. How many parents could say they knew the exact night when their kid lost their virginity? So yeah, that human squeamishness was keeping both Dad and Papa at bay. Fine by him.

He wasn’t prepared to talk about anything at the moment. The idea of relaying his horrible dumping by Trey was more terrible than he could bear. What he needed was to work off some of his anger and misery. Although it was a Saturday afternoon, and not normally a busy time for the club, the many months of closure had led to a surge in interest, apparently. As he sauntered through the main room, many pairs of eyes followed him.

Good. At least some men understood his worth. He would gladly capitalize on that. By the laws of Papa’s people, he was now fully grown. While his fathers might not agree with that assessment, he wasn’t above appealing to Alex, if necessary, to gain some freedom. He wasn’t looking to leave, of course. He valued his family and, frankly, the money at his disposal. It was simply a matter of wanting more autonomy, including the right to hook up with club members if he so chose.

Screw Trey. What he thought didn’t matter. Demi was through being a good boy or a brat. He was going to just be himself. With a nod to Kitty, he took a position in the middle of the dance floor. When the song playing ended, the opening strains of Evanescence’s Bring Me to Life filled the room. The sound effects of wind blowing and sirens wrapped around him, struck chords in his psyche that perfectly called up everything that he was feeling. The reminder of what the man he’d loved did for a living was helpful, not debilitating.

He twisted his body slowly in sync with the building speed of the haunting notes. He wore only yoga pants and a crop-top white T. Every line of his body was on full display. When the guitar strumming kicked in, he flipped his way over to the nearest stage. The boy that had been humping against it, leaped out off with a stunned look on his face.

Demi grabbed the pole and swung around it before climbing up to the top. He spread his arms out wide as he anchored himself by hooking one knee then he turned upside-down. But he wasn’t reaching out to anyone to save him. He needed only himself. Letting go, he tumbled onto the stage. Gasps reached his ears, making him grin because, of course, he landed on his feet then flitted away to the next stage.

He pirouetted across the dance floor in a whirling blur that was just this side of human. When he reached the next pole, he shimmied up and twirled around frontward and backward. He contorted his body in provocative poses, showing what he had to give to the right man, one who would appreciate his flexibility, strength and devotion.

Men gathered around the sides, clapping and whistling but not getting in his way when he once again moved on. He hugged the third pole, undulating against it in what he hoped was a sexy parody of fucking. With each snap of his hips, he flipped his hair and pouted. His focus became fixed on his movements, the way in which he was expressing his misery without words—and, all without the one person he really wanted to see and understand even being there. It was all he had, and yet he feared it wasn’t nearly enough, regardless.

As the music reached its crescendo, he back-flipped his way from one end of the dance floor to the other. Then he launched himself at the final pole, climbed all the way to the top and paused to fling his arms out once more before taking off in a swan dive. He somersaulted in a tight ball to yells that overtook the music before landing in a split. With his mouth popped open in a provocative O, he tore his shirt in two. He tossed the remnants just as he’d done a week ago, only this time, he had no man to aim for.

The room went deathly silent for the span of a few rapid heartbeats, then pandemonium broke out. The club members and go-go boys alike, including Mackie, Quinn and Jase, rushed forward to encircle him. He could see the leers as well as the concerns. He soaked up the former and ignored the latter. Just when his adoring audience arrived, they got shoved aside by a whole lot of pissed-off Val. The bouncer scooped Demi up with one arm latched around his middle like a steel vise.

Demi shrieked and struggled for about two seconds with futile effort before changing tactics. There was no way he’d get loose, so instead he blew kisses to the men left behind, treating his being carted away as part of the act. By the reaction of the men, he figured he’d succeeded. Now, all he had to do was weather the coming storm. Fortunately, his friends chased after them. He wouldn’t be alone in facing the music, as it were. Plus, he was sufficiently mad himself to not be concerned about his fate.

Once they’d all entered the elevator, he pushed at Val’s arm. “You can let me down now.”

“Hah, fat chance. I’ll release you once you’re with your fathers.” Val did, however, lower him so that his feet touched the floor.

No one said anything, not even Mackie. Demi was too upset to look at his friends. He didn’t want to see concern or worse, pity. In fact, as he stood there fuming, he realized he’d changed his mind. He didn’t want them around at all. They all had the men they loved. Petty as it might have been, he couldn’t stand their hearing how he’d been rejected by Trey—not yet, although they obviously knew something was up. He’d confide in them later.

When the elevator doors opened, he said, “Please, everyone, I don’t want an entourage right now.”

“We want to help,” Mackie pressed.

Quinn held him back. “It’s okay. We understand. You know we’re on your side, no matter what, right?”

Demi nodded as Val dragged him down to his family suite. Dad opened the door, because, of course, the one he hated disappointing the most would be front and center. Not that it mattered. Papa along with Alex popped over from the stairs a moment later.

“Demi, what is going on?” Papa demanded.

Dad put up his hand. “Come inside, all of you.”

It was so rare for the man to issue anything like an order to the others that no one balked at complying. Releasing his hold, Val gave Demi a nudge. He needn’t have bothered. While Demi wasn’t interested in having the conversation now, it was inevitable. He had to take a stand about the course of his life. His fathers stood side-by-side in the middle of the living room and patiently waited for someone to explain.

When no one else did, Demi sucked it up. “I was only dancing.”

Val snorted. “Is that your story? You were performing sex acts in the middle of the fucking dance floor.”

Demi rounded on the man. “Oh, that’s so not true! I was expressing my feelings with movement. And, I was killing it,” he added with a toss of his head.

“If visually jerking off every club member there is your definition of doing a good job, then yeah, I agree.” Val turned to Demi’s fathers. “Sorry to be blunt, guys.”

“Demi, what were you thinking?” Papa demanded.

“I wasn’t…thinking. I was trying not to think, actually. It was working, too, until this big ape came and spoiled everything.”

Alex stepped forward. “Demi, remember your place. That was neither respectful nor biologically accurate.” Their family leader rarely rebuked Demi directly, leaving that up to his fathers. And while the man was usually quite patient and kind with him, when he was angry, he could be very scary.

Demi coughed. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Besides,” Val added, “I was only doing what Duncan would have if he’d been here.”

The mention of his former lover made Demi gasp. He couldn’t help himself, nor could he resist rubbing his hand over his heart. “You’re wrong. He wouldn’t have cared. He doesn’t want me.”

Val snorted again. Alex rolled his eyes and turned away. Papa simply blinked back at him. It was Dad who stepped up and reached out to place his hand on Demi’s arm.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Demi shook off the hold and backed away. “It is! He told me himself. What he did last night was a favor.” He put as much venom as he could in the word. “He doesn’t want anything more to do with me—recommended, in fact, that I pursue other men to find out if he was actually a good lay or not. No reviews yet on my performance in bed.”

Dad flinched and Papa came up to hug him. “Demi!”

He threw out his arms. “What? What do you want me to say, Papa? I’m telling you the truth, whether you can handle it or not. You handed me off to the man I love, loved,” he amended because he wasn’t going to wear his heart on his sleeve anymore, “and he’s tossed me back.”

“Jesus, does this mean I have to kill Duncan?” Val mused. “I was really getting to like the human.”

Papa’s turned his head. “This is no time for levity, Val.”

“Who’s making a joke?”

“Stop!” Holding out his hands, Demi pleaded. “None of this is helping. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. It’s done, and this isn’t making me or the situation better.” He swiped at the tears leaking out. “I’m sorry if my dancing upsets you, but I’m grown now, right? I have to make my own decisions about the path I’m going to take. And, I can’t stay here.” He turned and ran. “Sorry!” he tossed over his shoulder and raced toward the stairs, half expecting to be followed and hauled back.

No one did, and, half-blind with his despair, he sought a place of refuge.