Bailey Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (10 page)

“What can you tell me?”

He shook his head and pointed back out the way McBride had come in. McBride returned to the front yard of the house. He thought they did this so they could talk without the masks, but the crimetech shook his head when McBride lifted his hand to slip his mask off.

“Don’t remove it. Before you go home, we’ll burn it and everything you’re wearing.”

In short, halting sentences that conveyed his obvious terror, the man described how the owner of the home had become increasingly ill. He hungered for his slammers more and more but felt less and less satisfied when he fed. Enraged when they couldn’t sate his bloodlust, the man, Larsden, brought them into the main room, one by one, and literally tore them apart.

“With his bare hands?” McBride considered the kind of strength that would take.

“With his bare hands,” the crimetech confirmed. “At this point it’s purely speculative, but I believe he was being overly satisfied by the blood he was drinking. At least physically, he was. Only in his mind did he not feel full.”

McBride remembered reading of a case where too much blood had temporarily given a man superhuman strength. Most men stopped well before that point. Their bellies could only hold so much, and most men didn’t have the number of slammers it took to drink such a volume of blood.

“But why the biomasks?” McBride stroked his finger over the curious contours of the unit. To him, the mask made everyone look like they had comically large blue lips.

“I think it’s a blood-borne pathogen.”

A tingle of fear raced down McBride’s spine. Such a disease could affect the populace in multiple ways. If they drank, touched, or breathed tainted blood, they could be exposed. McBride looked down at his boots. They were his favorite pair, but he’d walked in the house, so they would have to be burned along with everything else he was wearing. His entire body needed to be scrubbed down and rinsed with potent chemicals that would destroy bacteria, viruses—everything.

“Something got into the blood and made him thirst uncontrollably.”

“Like a virus?”

Slowly, the crimetech nodded.

McBride no longer cared how goofy the mask looked. He wouldn’t take it off even at gun point. A virus was what had turned the world into its present state. In the academy, McBride had learned that the Earth was once populated with two sexes—men and women. But a plague swept the globe, killing all the females and changing the men into blood drinkers. There had been eons of chaos until the present system had been constructed. Once the Earth had been stabilized they’d colonized other worlds. The very idea of another plague sweeping the populace and changing the blood drinkers into insatiable killers was chilling.

“Keep this under wraps for now.”

The man nodded.

“Make sure anyone who goes in is protected and scrub them down when they come out.”

“I’ve already ordered the shower units.” He pointed. “I had them set up in the backyard to avoid undue speculation.”

“Good man.” McBride would go that way to have himself sanitized. He looked around at the neighborhood and was relieved to discover Larsden lived in an isolated area. They might just be able to get a handle on this before it got out of hand or started a panic. “Until we confirm what we’re dealing with, I want limited access to the blood. Eyes only. For now, we’re going to spin the tale of a deadly combination of blood, sexual, and emotional lust driving a master to insanity.” There was some irony to that as McBride had always feared that’s what would happen to him. Although, to be fair, he never had that fear until he’d found himself so inexplicably attracted to Caleb. “I want you to interview his coworkers and others who knew him.”

“But I’m crimetech.”

“I know, but you’re in the know here, and I want to keep this as quiet as possible.”

“Understood.”

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” McBride realized since he’d been so overwhelmed with taking on his father’s job in addition to his farm he didn’t know half the names of the men he worked with.

“Quintus.”

McBride resisted the urge to extend his hand and shake. Instead, they nodded to one another.

“Keep me updated via wireless.” McBride wanted to reach up and tap his ear, but again, he resisted the urge.

Quintus returned to the house as McBride washed down in the bioshower in the back. Per regulations, he disposed of his clothing and put on the temporary paper garments that would get him home.

Should the crimetech’s suspicions be true, there would be a panic of epic proportions when the information inevitably leaked out.

Bailey woke with Ferris snuggled up against his chest. He kissed the top of his head and sighed. Never had he awakened with a smile on his face. Oh, he’d woken up happy, but not like this. He was blissfully cheerful. Bailey couldn’t remember ever being this excited to start a new day. What he felt was regular happiness times by about a billion.

Today he would get to have his first taste of blood. He quivered with anticipation. Having never fed that way, he was curious about what to expect. He knew the taste of blood. Like most men, when he cut his fingers, his first impulse was to put the bleeding digit in his mouth. Bailey had enjoyed the slick, coppery taste, but he knew it was different to drink from another.

As a slammer, he wasn’t guaranteed a companion. By law, he had no right to buy one or to even expect his master to purchase one for him. Most slammers never craved blood, not the way alphas like McBride did. McBride couldn’t live without a steady, frequent diet of blood and food. But Bailey was different. He could live on food alone and be perfectly content. However, if he ate food and drank blood, he would provide richer nourishment for his master. It was a good incentive to get the landed gentry to buy their slammers mates, but not all of them did. Some simply couldn’t afford the extra men, but McBride had seen fit to let him have a companion. Why he was so magnanimous, Bailey wasn’t certain. Yes, his blood would be better, but not so much to justify the expense of a thrall as fine as Ferris. Bailey had seen other slammers with companions, but they were generally sickly and weak. He supposed he could have asked, but there was an old saying about not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Horses had died in the plague that changed the world, but Bailey still understood the gist of the sentiment. It would be unwise for him to question McBride’s generosity. So Bailey didn’t. Instead, he pulled his mate close and thanked his master for his munificence.

Bailey nuzzled Ferris’s ear and longed to lower his lips to his neck, but there was no point when the pink collar blocked his access. Only McBride could remove it. When he did, Bailey would put a new collar on him to show his ownership. Bailey frowned. He didn’t own one to replace the pink one Ferris wore now. Would McBride let him go into town to buy one? Bailey had the money, but he would need McBride to give him a pass into town.

“Are you awake, my mate?” Bailey kissed Ferris’s sleep-warm cheek.

“I am.” Ferris squirmed his bottom against Bailey’s prick.

“Are you still slick from last night?” Bailey wished to fuck him again, but he didn’t know if they needed another greaser.

“You should prime me just to be safe.”

Bailey grabbed the bottle of glittering greasers from the bedside table, extracted one, put the others away, and then slid the object between his companion’s buttocks.

“Now I will prime you.” Ferris turned so they faced one another. Gently, he pressed against Bailey’s shoulders until he was on his back. Ferris straddled his hips and rubbed Bailey’s rapidly hardening cock between his legs. While they waited for the greaser to melt, they squirmed together and kissed. Bailey remembered McBride’s admonition to go slowly, to take his time and tease his companion, but Bailey’s hunger was sharp.

“Climb onto my fuck pole and ride.” As soon as the words slipped out, Bailey clapped his hand over his mouth, stunned that he’d said such a vulgar thing. It was something his domineering brother Jared had said to the mechanical man. Bailey had watched as the sexbot dutifully climbed into Jared’s lap and bounced himself up and down the length of his prick.

But rather than blanch and pull away, Ferris blushed and grinned. “Yes, my stern master.”

Bailey’s eyes went wide. It was a dangerous game they played. McBride was the master. Only he could rightly be called by that title. To have his companion bestow that honor on him was arousing. Dangerously so.

“Ride me, boy. Ride me good.”

They continued to play as master and grinder would. What compelled Bailey was the naughtiness of what they were doing. It seemed to him that Ferris had the same sense of taboo spurring him on.

“We will not tell of what we do here.” Bailey tried not to sound bossy, but he couldn’t help himself. What McBride had given, he could very well take away. It was arousing to play such a game in the privacy of their bedroom, but he didn’t want Ferris to ever slip and call him master outside of these four walls.

“I would never.” Ferris was serious. “But remember that McBride said that what we did in our bedroom was by our choice?”

Bailey did remember him giving them permission to do as they pleased.

“I do not think he would anger that we played such a game with one another if we both know it is
only
a bedroom game.”

“It truly is. I have no wish to fill McBride’s shoes or boss you about.”

“Then we are in agreement.” Ferris grinned and then started up his arousing motions again. “In the thrall house, we were told that men have hungers, sexual hungers, not bloodlusts, that sometimes might seem perverse.” Ferris looked quickly away then back, almost as if he were ashamed of the entire human race. “We were taught that we should follow our companion’s needs.” Ferris paused. “In the bed, we should allow them complete freedom. But elsewhere we should follow the rules and laws of the land.”

“I don’t understand exactly what you are saying.” Bailey was fascinated by not only how intelligent his companion appeared to be, but also by his refusal to be full of himself for his brains. Bailey’s brother Devon was so snobby about his intellect that Bailey rarely spoke with him.

“In here, where we are alone, we can say, do, or pretend anything. Outside from here, you are my companion, I am yours, and McBride is our undisputed master.”

“Yes.” It was exactly what Bailey was trying to say. “I agree.”

“Now, my master, I hunger for you. I must please you, or surely I will die.”

Bailey grinned as he lifted his hands above his own head. “I will lie back and relax as you do all the work.”

“Yes, my wanton master.” Ferris lifted up, pressed Bailey’s prick against his hole, and then plunged down until he’d engulfed the entire length.

The sudden tight heat shocked him into a reaction. Bailey bucked up, hard. Unfortunately, his thrust unbalanced Ferris, who went flying forward. Bailey caught him by his shoulders right before they butted heads.

Startled, they looked at one another with wide eyes, and then Ferris did something that told Bailey they would always be together no matter what. Ferris laughed. Bailey joined him.

“Maybe we should stick with the basics for now,” Bailey suggested between chuckles.

“I think that might be for the best.” Ferris snuggled down more gently this time, and then leaned forward so they could kiss while they worked their bodies together.

In a time that seemed far too short, they were breathing hard and Bailey was ready to climax.

“Do you want to try to delay like McBride said?”

“I can’t.” Bailey gripped Ferris’s hips, holding him steady as he flicked his body, drilling his cock deeper. “You feel so good.”

“As do you.” Ferris clung to him.

By matching their breathing, they quickly reached the peak and found their climaxes within moments of one another. Afterward, they lay together, lazily touching and caressing. Bailey didn’t want to move, but by the angle of the sun in the window, he knew he had to get to work. Still, he wasn’t sad at all. He was happy to show his master how pleased he was with his generous gift. Bailey would work extra hard today as a way to thank McBride for all he had done.

Ferris rose with his mate.

“You don’t have to get up.” Bailey turned at the doorway, grinned, and then shooed Ferris back toward the bed. “Sleep and recover from what I put you through.”

“You are so very kind, my generous mate, but I am excited to work with you.”

“Work on the farm?”

“Yes.” Ferris couldn’t wait to be of use.

Bailey frowned. “I can make enough for both of us to be comfortable.”

Realizing that this was important to Bailey, to be seen as the providing companion, Ferris nodded quickly. “I wished only to help.”

“You are so sweet.” Bailey moved close and kissed the top of Ferris’s head.

“McBride said that I would work, too. Not that you couldn’t earn enough for both of us, not at all, just that he did not think it right for me to sit idle while the others work.”

Bailey’s only answer was a glower, so Ferris let the matter drop for now. Perhaps it would be best if McBride told Bailey that he wanted him to work.