His Imperfect Mate 26 (7 page)

Traps. He would definitely get some traps in the morning.

He found his mate already tucked in bed, his eyes closed tightly, but Sloane could tell from the rise and fall of the vampire’s chest that D was anything but asleep. Why in the hell would he be feigning sleep?

Sloane pulled his clothes off and crawled into bed, tucking his hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. “Something you want to tell me?”

“No,” D squeaked.

That answer sounded guilty as hell. Turning to look at his mate, Sloane raised one eyebrow, letting his mate know that he didn’t believe him.

“It’s too embarrassing,” D confessed as he tucked the covers over his chin.

Sloane grinned, relieved that it wasn’t anything bad…hopefully.

“Tell me.”

D shook his head, his eyes studying Sloane’s chest. “You’ll think I’m weird.”

Sloane’s chest rumbled with the chuckle that fell from his lips. He turned sideways, propping his head on his hand as he traced his mate’s wondrous lips. “No I won’t.” D’s lips were still red and swollen from that amazing blow job, making Sloane smile in remembrance.

“You better not laugh at me,” D threatened as he pulled the blankets just an inch down from his mouth.

“Promise.”

“How was I…you know.”

So his mate was fishing for compliments. Sloane would give him that and more if it meant another suck-off like the one he just received. “Amazingly wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Like you didn’t know,” Sloane teased. “I don’t want to know about who you’ve been with before me, but thank god you learned that trick.”

D shook his head, his cheeks pinking. “No one taught me that.”

There was no way his mate knew how to deep throat if this had been his first time sucking cock. He would have been gagging and coughing had he been a novice. Sloane knew that for a fact because that lesson was a part of his past.

“So then tell me, Mr. Constantinople, how did you pull off such an amazing blow job then?” Sloane was not prepared for D’s reaction.

“Don’t call me that!” D pulled from Sloane’s arms, his face a mask of anger. “That’s my father’s name, and I don’t want any part of it. I’m not my father.”

Whoa. Okay, no more talk of D’s surname
. Sloane tugged at D’s fingers until his mate relented and rolled back snugly into his side.

“I’ll remember that. Now do you want to tell me how you became such an expert at giving head?” He was trying to bring the mood back to where it should be, light and teasing.

That quickly, D went from frowning to blushing. “I practiced on things.”

Sloane blinked. Things? What things could D have practiced on?

“Like?”

D buried his face into Sloane’s chest, feeling his mate grin as he chuckled. “Bananas, cucumbers, salami.”

“Salami?” Sloane asked, stunned as he pulled back and looked down at his red-faced mate. No wonder the man could take him in one swift motion. Holy hell, he would have loved to have watched D practice.

“I told you that you would think I’m weird.” D turned his face so Sloane couldn’t see him. Sloane smiled as he rubbed D’s back.

“That’s not weird. What made you practice?”

“You.”

Sloane was once again stunned. His mate had practiced for him?

Hell if he didn’t feel honored by that confession…and a little amazed.

He kissed D’s temple as he grinned. His mate was full of a lot of surprises, and Sloane was looking forward to many more.

“Well, you don’t have to practice on those things any longer. Feel free to use my cock anytime you want.”

D smacked his chest as he gave a small growl. “Stop teasing me.”

Sloane chuckled as he grabbed his mate’s wrists. “I’m not teasing you, hon. I think it’s sexy.”

His mate didn’t look as though he believed Sloane, but didn’t say anything else on the subject. Sloane ran his jaw over D’s black hair, wondering if they could really have a great life together…assuming D’s father didn’t kill either of them first.

* * * *

D swept up the chips from the kitchen floor and turned the dustpan over the trash can. He couldn’t believe he had done that…again. He was so damn embarrassed that he had avoided Sloane for the rest of the night. His mate must think him a damn psycho!

He wanted to smack himself in the forehead with the dustpan for the way he had behaved. Shifters were built differently, and he needed to remember that. They couldn’t get human sicknesses or diseases. He was never going to watch another documentary for as long as he lived.

D groaned, afraid Sloane was going to get tired of his quirkiness and tell him to hit the road. He was trying his best to be normal, but it wasn’t working out so well. He was even fucking that up.

Picking the double fudge pudding up and the cereal, D placed them back on the shelf. He still didn’t see how anyone could eat that crap, but Sloane loved it, so he would let it be. He spotted a box of cake mix, wondering if he could make Sloane a cake in show of how sorry he was for acting so damn batty. He never cooked human food before, but it couldn’t be that hard, right?

D read the directions on the back of the box, getting everything he needed and placing the items on the counter. There weren’t many things he had to gather, which told him this task wouldn’t be that hard. He preheated the oven and then set about mixing everything.

This was kind of fun.

Pouring the batter into the two round cake pans, D slid them into the oven and then wiped his hands on the apron he wore. Maybe he could start cooking for Sloane. Baking a cake had been simple enough.

Making fresh dishwater, D cleaned up his mess and waited for the cake to finish. He knew it was four in the morning, but the cake could be eaten later. After cleaning up his mess, D wandered into the living room and sat down, kicking his feet up and resting. Sloane was upstairs asleep, which left D nothing to do.

Closing his eyes for just a moment, D sighed as he relaxed into the soft cushions of the sofa.

* * * *

Sloane’s eyes snapped open to the shrill sound of the smoke detectors and someone screaming at the top of his lungs. He glanced over and saw that his mate wasn’t in bed with him.

“Fuck,” Sloane shouted when he saw the sun streaming through the window. He hit the floor and took off down the steps, immediately smelling smoke. Sloane felt disoriented as he searched for his mate.

He couldn’t see with the black billowing smoke thick in the air, choking him. Running for the fire extinguisher on the wall, Sloane grabbed it and began to look for the source of the smoke.

His lungs burned as if someone had poured hot cinders down his throat as he yanked the oven open and sprayed the white foam inside.

Turning the knob, he cut the oven off and then began to open windows and the kitchen door, praying the smoke cleared soon.

“Dudley!”

Sloane could hear little whimpers, but he wasn’t sure where the sound was coming from. Setting the extinguisher down, he stood very still and listened. The sound came again, and Sloane rushed over to the basement door, opening it carefully and then shutting it behind him.

“Dudley?”

He climbed down the steps, looking around the basement. The glass block windows shone sunlight, so Sloane knew his mate wouldn’t be out in the open. He checked the storage rooms and found his mate huddled in the last one, balled up and whimpering.

Sloane knelt by his mate, carefully turning his head to see the blisters covering his face. “Oh, D. What happened?”

“I fell asleep,” D said softly, his voice sounding dry and raw.

Sloane wasn’t sure how extensive the damage was, but he knew his mate needed help.

“What can I do? How do vampires heal?” He wasn’t sure where to touch or even if he could pick his mate up. D had blisters covering most of his face and around his mouth, and his eyes were swollen shut. Sloane wanted nothing more than to take away his mate’s pain.

Even D’s fingers, which were curled around his shirt, were blistered badly.

“I need blood.”

Sloane rocked back on his heels, knowing the supply upstairs wasn’t going to be enough. There was only one thing he could do to help D and that was to feed him.

Chapter Six

Chance jumped out of his truck as soon as he pulled into Sloane’s driveway when he saw the black smoke billowing from the house. His heart was racing as he snatched his phone from his hip, dialing the fire department before racing inside.

He knew it was a stupid move, but he wasn’t going to let Sloane and D die in a house fire. As he entered the front door, his phone rang. Chance hit the send button, trying his best to see through the black, oppressive smoke.

“What’s wrong?” Chauncey immediately asked when Chance began to violently cough. He pulled the hem of his shirt over his nose and mouth, shoving his phone into his pocket. There was no way he was going to be able to talk and cover his face at the same time. Tears ran down his face from the painful stinging in his eyes, but he had to find his friends.

Checking upstairs, Chance quickly ran from room to room, but found no one. He wasn’t going to allow himself to panic. He had to keep a clear head. Running back down the steps, Chance saw a fire extinguisher lying haphazardly on the floor and the oven door open.

He wanted to shout, to yell for either of them, but his lungs felt like they were on fire. Had D’s father set the house on fire? Chance didn’t see any flames anywhere, but that didn’t mean anything. Were Sloane and D even here? With even a slim possibility, he had to search.

A wave of dizziness washed over Chance as he turned in a circle, wondering where he should check. The basement door came into view, and he yanked it open, closing it behind him before he bolted down the steps.

He was able to remove his shirt from his face and take in deep gulps of air once he reached the bottom of the steps. There was no smoke down here. “Sloane,” he tried to call out, but his throat was aching and swollen. It was no use. He’d have to search.

He heard crying and followed the sound, opening one of the storage rooms. Sloane was laid out on the floor, unmoving, and D was kneeling over him, crying and shaking the wolf.

“He passed out. Help him!” D’s voice wasn’t any better than Chance’s. He had barely heard what the vampire had said, but he did notice how badly D was blistered.

“The fire department is on its way. I can’t take you out of here because of the daylight.”

D shook his head, still pulling at Sloane’s sleeve, crying as he attempted to get the wolf out of there. “I don’t care about me. Get him out of here!” Tears rolled down D’s face from swollen eyes as he stood, stumbled, and then grabbed Sloane’s hand, trying his best to drag the wolf. “Get him out of here!”

“I’m not leaving you, D. Sloane would skin my ass alive if I did that.” There was no way he was leaving anyone behind. He wasn’t sure what he should do, but leaving D down in the basement to burn alive wasn’t an option.

“Chance!” Chauncey yelled down the basements steps. “Chance, are you down here?”

“In here.” Chance did his best to yell back, but his throat wouldn’t permit his voice to raise any louder than a whisper.

Chauncey appeared in the doorway, squatting down next to Chance. “Are you hurt?”

Chance shook his head, pointing to Sloane. “He needs help. You have to get him outside and get him to shift. I have to stay with D.”

“Fuck if you’re staying down here. Take Sloane. I’ll stay with D,” Chauncey argued and then gasped when he finally looked over at D.

“Did the fire burn you?”

D shook his head, still trying his best to get Sloane off of the ground. “No, the sun did. Damn it, will one of you dunderheads grab him and get him out of here!”

Chance growled and grabbed Sloane, cradling the large wolf to his chest. “If you fucking die, Chauncey, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Just get him out of here. I need to feed D so he can heal.”

Chance nodded, taking once last glance at his brother before running up the steps with Sloane. He headed straight out of the back door and laid Sloane onto the grass. “How the hell do I get him to shift?” he mumbled as the sirens blared, telling Chance the fire truck was close. “Shift, damn you.” He nudged Sloane, pounding him in chest until the wolf began to cough and then shifted.

Chance heard the fire truck stop in front of the house and then looked back down at Sloane. The wolf lay there, his chest rising and falling. Seeing that there was nothing else he could do, Chance ran back into the house and down into the basement.

“Get your ass out of here!” he yelled at Chauncey.

“I’m feeding D.”

“I can do that. Curtis will kill me if something happens to you. Go.”

Chauncey sealed the wound on his wrist and then gave Chance a tight nod. “Don’t fucking burn.” He took off up the steps before Chance could answer him.

Taking a seat on the ground, Chance pushed his wrist in Dudley’s face. “Feed, D.” D bit into his wrist, swallowing greedily as he fed, his wounds already starting to fade. Chance rested his back into the wall, glancing up at the ceiling.
What a fucking mess.

* * * *

D lay curled up on the basement floor, listening to the heavy footfalls above his head from the firemen in the kitchen until the steps were silenced and the men were gone. He’d been down here for hours, wishing he could go upstairs as see the extent of the damage.

Chance was sitting next to him, refusing to leave. Chauncey had already come downstairs and told them that the damage in the kitchen was mostly from smoke. A small fire had started in the oven, but apparently Sloane had extinguished it before he had come downstairs.

Countless times D had closed his eyes, trying to sleep to pass the day away, but it never pulled him under. He was too worried about Sloane. Although he had been reassured that Sloane would heal in his shifter form, D wouldn’t be appeased until he could see that his mate was fine with his own two eyes.

His thoughts turned to the damaged kitchen. Once again he had screwed up. Only this time he could have killed his mate. D felt his stomach knot into pain at the thought of something that horrific happening to his wolf. And it would have been his fault.