Perilous Partnership (22 page)

Perplexed, Raymond pushed up on one elbow.

“Lie down. You‟ll get cold,” Jean scolded.

Raymond frowned. “Come to bed.”

“I will. I just need to take care of a few things first.”

Raymond‟s frown deepened. “What‟s going on, Jean? It feels like you‟re avoiding me, and I don‟t like it.”

“How am I avoiding you?” Jean asked, heart pounding as his mind scrambled to find a way to dodge this conversation. “We just made love in the bathtub. That hardly counts as avoidance, I would think.”

“
We
didn‟t make love,” Raymond countered. “You made love to me. Not that I‟m complaining, but I‟d like the chance to return the favor.”

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“I‟m fine,” Jean demurred.

“That isn‟t the point,” Raymond insisted. “As good as you made me feel, it was one-sided.”

“It wasn‟t one-sided. You have no idea the pleasure I get from seeing you come apart in my arms.”

“Then why are you denying me that same pleasure? I want to see you that way too.”

“Next time,” Jean said.

“That‟s what you said two days ago when you blew me before bed,”

Raymond reminded him. “This makes twice in three days you‟ve gotten me off without letting me touch you in return. What changed?”

Jean looked up, eyes blazing. “Look at yourself in the mirror and you‟ll know what changed!”

Raymond glanced down at his chest, at the plethora of marks still adorning his skin. “What? The bites?”

“Not the bites themselves, but what they represent. I lost control!”

“I know,” Raymond said, his voice smug with satisfaction. “I remember.”

“I hurt you!”

“You did not hurt me. I loved every minute of it.” Deciding they were getting nowhere with Jean across the room, Raymond got up and crossed to Jean‟s side. “You were feeding from me the entire time. You know I loved every minute of it. I don‟t know how this has gotten turned around in your head, but there is nothing to feel guilty about here. Nothing.”

“You‟re going to get cold.”

“Then come to bed with me and keep me warm,” Raymond said. “I‟m not going to bed without you.”

“You are so stubborn,” Jean huffed, grabbing Raymond‟s arm and propelling him toward the bed. He climbed in after his lover, pulling the ties to release the bed curtains. “Haven‟t you learned by now that you can‟t out-stubborn a vampire?”

“And yet you‟re here in bed with me,” Raymond pointed out smugly. “Now will you please tell me what‟s going on? Not that I‟m complaining about the blowjob or the prostate massage tonight, but you‟re holding back on me, and I don‟t like it.”

“You don‟t understand,” Jean began, trying to find the words to explain without scaring Raymond away.

“Then help me understand,” Raymond pleaded. “I don‟t want us to argue, but if you don‟t tell me there‟s a problem, I can‟t help you resolve it.”

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“I tell people vampires aren‟t monsters, that we can live in civilized society.”

“They aren‟t, and you can,” Raymond interrupted. “I‟ve lived with you for over a year. I think I‟d know if you were.”

“That‟s just it,” Jean said softly. “I am a monster. I‟ve learned to control it, but it lurks beneath the surface, waiting for the opportunity to break free.”

“Is that what you really think? That you‟re some sort of monster?”

“I don‟t have to think it,” Jean replied. “I know I am. The night I was turned, I lost control and killed a man, drunk on the sweetness of his blood and the warmth of his body, so high on sex and feeding that I lost track of everything and drained him dry. My maker taught me control after that, but the beast lurks still, waiting for the right moment.”

“And you think that‟s what happened three nights ago?” Raymond asked seriously. “You think it got the better of you?”

“How else would you explain the bite marks on your body?”

Raymond rolled his eyes. “I think you made love to me until I screamed. I think you made me feel like the center of your world, the one thing you can‟t live without. I don‟t know if I‟d want it to be rough like that every time, but you didn‟t hurt me, you didn‟t scare me, and you certainly didn‟t kill me. I‟m not belittling what happened back then, but I think you‟re underestimating yourself. It happened the night you were turned. Has it happened since then?”

Jean shook his head.

“Then why does it have to be the same thing? Why can‟t it be just what I said it was: a round of wonderful, rough sex?”

“Because I‟m a vampire,” Jean reminded his lover. “You probably outweigh me by twenty kilos, yet I carried you in here like I would a child. I take your life source every time my fangs pierce your skin. Rough sex with me will never be simply rough sex. I‟m dangerous in a way no other lover could ever be.”

“I‟ve said this before, but maybe I need to remind you that you‟re not the only one who‟s dangerous. I might not be able to cast a spell on you directly, but if I needed to, I could stop you. I could spell the curtain ties around your wrists. I could force things between us to separate us. I could cast a displacement spell and simply be gone. Even if you turned on me the way you fear you might, I wouldn‟t be a helpless victim with no recourse,” Raymond said.

Jean could hardly argue with that when he had watched Raymond in a fight and had seen him appear and disappear at will. “I don‟t like feeling out of

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control, and I felt like that the other night. It shook me because I thought I‟d passed that stage.”

“I can understand that, but unless you‟re planning on never feeding or having sex with me again—which I certainly hope is not the case—you‟re going to have to get past it,” Raymond said.

Jean could not imagine giving up the man in his bed. “I‟ll do my best.” He pulled Raymond into his arms, hoping he could relax enough to sleep now that he had admitted the worst of his fears.

“Before we go to sleep,” Raymond continued, “were you planning on telling me at some point that you were putting your position in le Jeu des Cours at risk by including me in things I don‟t belong in?”

All the tension that had seeped out of Jean at Raymond‟s acceptance flooded back in. “Who suggested I was putting myself at risk?”

“I told Fabienne about the meeting on Saturday night, and she nearly took my head off when I told her I was going with you,” Raymond said. “She claimed no one would be allowed but the chefs de la Cour, and that if you insisted on me being there, you would put yourself at risk unless I was your Consort. The last time I checked, I wasn‟t your Consort.”

“The last time I checked, you didn‟t want to be my Consort,” Jean retorted, “or has something changed in the past few days?”

“It has nothing to do with what I want,” Raymond snapped. “You know I have to maintain some degree of impartiality or I‟ll lose all credibility as the president of l‟ANS. We‟ve been through this.”

“And sharing my bed gives you so much impartiality,” Jean snorted. “Put a title on it or not, you
are
my Consort. I‟ve tried to have enough respect for you and your position not to put you in an untenable position, but I won‟t see you given less than the respect you deserve.”

“That‟s just it,” Raymond said, reeling internally at the revelation that Jean wanted him in a role he had not even known existed until a few hours ago.

“Nobody understands why I deserve that respect, and so you are losing status because of it. You have to stop.”

“Stop what?” Jean demanded. “Stop loving you? You can‟t ask me to do that.”

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RAYMOND blinked, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. He did not doubt Jean‟s declaration. He simply had no idea how to react to it. They had never talked in those terms. They were partners. Lovers, yes, but because that was part of their partnership. They shared an apartment because that made their partnership simpler. Love had never entered their equation, regardless of his own softer feelings.

Jean had just changed their equation.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the point of his conversation, but he could not let the declaration, unexpected and shouted though it was, go unanswered. “I love you too, but that doesn‟t change our situation. We have to resolve this problem.”

Jean‟s eyes closed as he let out the breath he had been holding in fear of a negative reaction to his inadvertent declaration. Raymond loved him too.

“There isn‟t anything to change. The situation is what it is, and I‟m not willing to compromise more than I‟ve already done.”

“So I‟ll just refuse to come with you on Saturday,” Raymond said. “You‟ll have protected my non-existent position by insisting I be allowed to attend, and I‟ll protect you by staying away like I should.”

“That‟s just it,” Jean said. “You shouldn‟t stay away. Consort or not, this involves you. I wouldn‟t be in Dommartin, we wouldn‟t be meeting on Saturday night, if you weren‟t involved. Céline and Renaud can say what they like about it being a question of territory, but it isn‟t. There‟s no dispute there that would stand up in any court of law, vampire or French. They aren‟t comfortable with the idea of partnerships, and so they‟re trying to use the issue of territory to keep l‟Institut from going forward. They wouldn‟t be any happier with it if it was here in Paris. They‟d just have less of an argument to do anything about it.”

“And shoving your partner in their face helps how?”

Jean smiled wickedly. “It puts them off balance, which is always in my favor. Le Jeu des Cours is a subtle game. I may appear to lose ground now. I may even actually lose some, but my position in Paris is secure—too many members of my Cour fought in the war and credit me with the alliance that led

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to the partnerships and equal rights legislation for a coup attempt to succeed— and as l‟Institut grows and partnerships spread outside Paris and Amiens to the rest of the country and even to the rest of the world, Céline and Renaud and their ilk will be the ones standing in the way of progress. It may take a decade or more, but when the dust settles, I‟ll be the one still standing, and they‟ll be the ones who have lost the game. As my partner, as my lover, as my Consort, or simply as president of l‟ANS, come with me on Saturday. I want you there.”

“I swore to support your position as chef de la Cour. If going with you on Saturday truly does that, then I‟ll be at your side.”

“I don‟t want you anywhere else,” Jean said. “Ever.”

“You know what that means, don‟t you?” Raymond asked, heart in his throat as he rolled Jean to his back.

Jean could think of all kinds of things he hoped it meant, from putting his brand on Raymond‟s neck and announcing him as Consort to the Cour to locking the door and not leaving for days on end. He doubted Raymond had any of those things in mind, though. “What does it mean?”

“It means you have to let me make love to you now,” Raymond said. “You can‟t tell me you love me for the first time, even if you were shouting at me when you said it, and not give me that.” He rocked against Jean‟s groin, feeling an immediate surge of interest from the vampire‟s body. His own cock was slower to awaken, but he knew it would take nothing more than Jean‟s fangs in his neck and he would be fully hard again. He only hoped he could convince his lover to bite him while they made love.

“What if I want to make love to you instead?” Jean teased, making no move to take control from Raymond. Hearing that Raymond returned his feelings had eased some of the immediate need to stake his claim. He still wanted his lover‟s position acknowledged by the Cour, but at least he now had the assurance that Raymond felt more for him than simply the partnership bond. The part of him that had fought to take and maintain control of his Cour would always crave dominance over his lover, but as he had told Raymond the first time they made love, he was a man as well as a chef de la Cour, and sometimes he wanted to receive as well as give. He would always crave proof of their commitment, but tonight he could let that proof come through Raymond‟s control rather than his own.

“You did that already, remember?” Raymond replied. “I‟m still tingling all over from it.”

Jean smiled, heart light from the compliment. “I remember. Every time we‟ve made love is etched on my heart.” He rested his arms lightly across the breadth of Raymond‟s shoulders, giving full control to his lover.

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Charmed by the comment, Raymond mated his lips to his vampire‟s, kissing him thoroughly. Jean‟s mouth opened, allowing Raymond access. The wizard took advantage of it, his tongue darting inside to tease his lover‟s. He took his time, relearning every surface of Jean‟s mouth, as if he had not kissed the vampire thousands of times since they had become lovers. This was the first time he had kissed—and been kissed by—the man he loved.

Jean‟s fingers traced the line of Raymond‟s spine, finding and lingering on the scar that paralleled it, sending shivers down Raymond‟s back. He doubted he would ever see the mark as something to be proud of the way Jean claimed he should, but he had reached the point of accepting that Jean saw it that way, and so he did not shy away from his lover‟s insistent touch, letting it add to his arousal instead. His arse clenched in anticipation of those fingers reaching the base of his spine and moving lower, but their progress stopped at the end of the scar.

Raymond recognized what Jean was doing in not pushing farther than that and leaving Raymond in control of their interactions, but he did not want the vampire to hold back. Breaking the kiss, he scooted up Jean‟s body so he straddled his lover‟s hips rather than his thighs and guided Jean‟s hand to his buttocks. “You know I love having your fingers inside me. If nothing else, it‟ll get me ready again faster than anything short of you biting me. Not that you can‟t do that too.”