During dinner, Ted made sure he sat among the ladies, keeping his distance from both Peter and Darcy. The looks he got from the two of them almost made him want to laugh, if he weren’t feeling so screwed.
This just wasn’t normal, but damn, he could still feel Scott’s mouth on his, smell his scent. Both their scents had permeated the air in the cruiser’s cabin, robbing his brain of oxygen. That had to be the only explanation.
His brain was oxygen starved.
Well, tonight, when they got home, he’d take Peter up on his offer of a blowjob, and prove to himself this was all in his mind, not in his dick.
Dinner broke up, and Ted strolled over to Peter. “Riding with me?” Ted didn’t wait for an answer but moved toward the door of the building.
Peter nodded, turned to Darcy, and whispered something in his ear. He trotted up behind Ted and caught his arm.
“Wait up!” His breathless voice tickled Ted’s ear.
“Get in.” Ted opened his door and slid inside, not waiting for Peter.
Peter jumped in and slammed his door shut, fastening his seatbelt like a good boy. Ted just bet he was a very good boy, and at the end of this drive, he’d find out how good.
“Darcy asked to come to my room tonight,” Peter said.
“What did you tell him?”
“No glove, no love. And that was my final offer.”
“And?”
“He agreed.”
“Good. Don’t accept anything less, Peter. Not from him and not from anyone.” Ted drove to Bayou End, but this time, as he pulled into the parking lot, he took a space at the end of the row, under the big oak tree where it was dark.
He switched off the truck and didn’t move to get out.
Peter sat back, watching him, then slowly moved toward him, gliding his hand over Ted’s leg.
“I guess you changed your mind, huh?” Peter’s eyes held hope and excitement. Ted wished he could feel the same.
“Come here.” Peter pulled on Ted’s hips, angling him toward the passenger seat, then undid his belt. He ran his hand over Ted’s cock, and it twitched in response.
Ted knew it was purely physical, nothing more. He leaned back and closed his eyes, thinking, physical was good enough for him. Good enough to prove he could do whatever he wanted; he wasn’t tied to Scott, spell or no spell.
Peter unzipped Ted’s jeans, wrapped his hand around the semihard shaft, and pulled it free of his briefs.
Without a word from either of them, Peter took Ted in his mouth. Warm, wet, and heated, Peter’s mouth surrounded his dick, sucking and laving the shaft until he sported a fairly good hard-on.
Peter knew what he was doing, and it felt good, it did, but the entire time Peter’s blond head bobbed up and down, his hand twisted around Ted’s shaft, his tongue flicked the bundle of nerves under the head, Ted fought to keep Scott’s face, mouth, and hands out of his mind.
What the fuck? Peter was hot. Damned hot, and any other time, if he’d been in a bar, he’d have Peter on his knees in the bathroom stall before you could say blow me.
His body responded, but he just felt empty.
Like something was missing, something that would put the pleasure back into it, something that Ted knew but didn’t want to name.
Scott.
His mate.
Ted groaned. Peter must have thought it was for him, because he moved faster up and down, working his hand, trying to bring Ted off.
But Ted wasn’t going to come. He knew it. No matter how good Peter was, or how his cock responded, he couldn’t come without Scott.
“Shit.” Ted grabbed Peter’s head and pulled him off his dick with a pop.
Wet-mouthed, swollen-lipped, Peter stared at him. “What’s wrong?”
“This is.” Ted shoved his already deflating cock back into his pants and zipped up. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
“Are you serious?” Peter gaped at him, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t believe this.”
“Look. I told you my head is messed up right now. I can’t do this, that’s all.” Ted got out of the truck and waited for Peter to exit.
“That is fucked, man.”
“Yeah, I know.” Ted shrugged, trying to keep his anger in check and not wanting the kid to think it was directed at him.
Peter stormed off as Ted leaned against his truck.
“Shit.”
His hand curled into a fist, and he stopped himself just before he punched his truck’s fender. Inhaling deeply, he held it, then let it out slowly, using his technique for calming down.
Once his anger had passed, he headed to the house. Maybe a good night’s sleep would help.
»»•««
Scott parked in front of his mother’s house, got out, and climbed the steps to her front door.
On the porch, her cat jumped down from its perch on the railing, wandered over to the door, sat, and waited with him as he knocked.
She opened the door, then held the screen for him to come in. The cat trotted past them.
“Damn cat!” she muttered, kicking at it but missing. “Thinks it lives here.”
“Right, Maman. Like you don’t feed it every day.”
“I don’t. But it won’t go away.”
The cat jumped onto the back of the couch and curled up, paws tucked, and eyes closed like it had every right to be there.
“We need to talk.” Scott went into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down.”
She sat. “What’s up?”
“I need you to reverse that spell.”
“What spell?” At Scott’s glare, she added, “Oh. That spell. Yeah, sure. I think I can.” But her mouth twisted.
“Are you sure?” His heart thudded in his chest.
“Pretty sure.” She cast her gaze upward and pulled out her rosary, her fingers moving over it. “Seventy-five percent sure. Maybe fifty.” She shrugged.
“I need you to do it. Break the spell. It’s important, you understand?”
“Not really.” She looked at him with a questioning gaze.
“It worked. You brought my mate. Only it’s a guy. A gay guy, Maman.”
She stared at him and shook her head. “Well, hell, son, I didn’t know you were gay. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m not gay!” he shouted. “But my wolf thinks it is, and I can’t have a gay mate. I just can’t. It’s not supposed to be that way.” Scott buried his face in his hands and searched for some control.
His mother patted him on the back. “Son, the wolf wants what it wants. Even without the spell, which I’m not even sure worked, he’d be your mate. These things are never wrong.”
“What?” He stared at her, not believing what she said. “No fucking way. Uh-uh. Somehow, the cosmic connections got tangled up. I’m not supposed to have a male mate. Why would you think even that?”
She shrugged, tapped out a cigarette from her pack, and lit it. “Who knows? I didn’t think I was that powerful but look at what I done. Huh!” She looked pleased with herself.
Scott wanted to strangle her, but then the spell would never be broken, and he’d be stuck with Ted. His wolf bayed at that thought, but Scott just told it to shut up.
“How do we break the spell?”
“Well, it’s the last of the full moon tomorrow. If we don’t do it then, we’ll have to wait until next month.”
“No, I can’t wait. It has to be tomorrow.” Scott heard the edge of panic in his voice and hated it.
“Okay. We have to do it at midnight.” She got up, went to the closet, and pulled out a pillowcase.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“The dead cat.”
There was a loud meow from the living room, and the cat hissed and ran out the screen door. It slammed shut, and Scott shook his head.
“Fool cat. Don’t need a dead cat,” she shouted perhaps thinking the cat could hear and understand her. “We have to dig the one I buried up.”
“Oh.” Scott exhaled. For a second he thought he’d have to kill a cat, and although his wolf might enjoy that, he wouldn’t.
“And this guy? He has to be there.”
“Shit.” Scott closed his eyes and counted to ten slowly. “Okay, I can get him here.”
“Midnight, boy. Don’t be late.” She blew out a long stream of gray smoke as Scott stood.
He strode to the front door and paused. “Maman, thank you.”
She gazed at him. “You sure you want to do this?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stepped out and closed the door behind him.
Checking his watch as he got into his car, Scott worried that it would be too late to talk to Ted. First, he had to find Ted, then convince him to go with him into the swamp tomorrow at midnight.
Ted would come. He wanted out of this as badly as Scott did. He’d made that pretty clear.
So why did that hurt so much?