“Okay, but I’m only going out of intense curiosity to meet your sister and see a little of where you came from.”
Sven maneuvered Geoffrey until he faced him in the bed.
“Fuck, it’s hot the way you can move me around like I weigh nothing.” Geoffrey snuggled in close and wrapped an arm around Sven. “Oh, you smell way better than I do and I can tell you’re getting ready to kiss me and nope. Gotta brush my teeth.”
“Like I give a fuck,” Sven muttered as he raised Geoffrey’s face and slanted his lips over his. Geoffrey didn’t bother trying to keep his lips closed and he stopped caring about it. Sven had a way of commandeering his body that made everything else disappear. Self-righteous internet pricks and psychopathic stalkers alike. He wallowed in all that strength—the warmth of his mouth, the steady sureness of his touch. A thick thigh slid between his legs as his hand moved down to cup one cheek of his ass.
Geoffrey was hard in an instant.
“Still good here, Geoffrey?”
“Hell, yeah,” he gasped into Sven’s mouth when the man used that hand to make him rock into his thigh. One finger unerringly slid into his crack and even with the thin material of his boxers between his flesh and Sven’s, that touch, that pressure on his hole, was like lightning. It sent shockwaves of electricity through him, alighting every nerve in his body. Sven kept up a steady rhythm as he made Geoffrey rub off on him. Holy shit, it was just as good as full-on sex and he couldn’t stop the noises he released into Sven. His thigh was hard and hot and that hand cupped his ass…so perfectly. He rocked and rocked and he came just as Sven sent his tongue deep into his mouth.
Sven swallowed his cries and dug his fingers into the crease where his thigh attached to his body. A long, rumbling noise rolled out of Sven and Geoffrey gasped as more shudders ripped through him. His muscles liquefied and he buried his face in Sven’s neck as he tried to catch his breath.
The big guy just held him close, his hold firm.
Moments later, Geoffrey stirred and pulled back. He stared at Sven, taking in the affection softening those deep, green eyes. The concern. Even with his reassurance, the man still paid close attention. For the first time in two days, that tight ball of anxiety in his chest loosened. “Now we both need a shower.”
“Good thing you have one built for two.”
He thought of saying it was built for more, but technically, Sven easily took up the space of two. “I’ll take care of you in there.”
“I don’t need anything, Geoffrey. Anything other than the normal energetic and happy you.”
Geoffrey lifted an eyebrow. “Really? You like him?”
Sven was quiet for several, long moments. “I do. A lot.”
And there went his flip-flopping heart again.
Nearly two hours later, after they had stopped by Sven’s small apartment to pick up clothes, they stood in his sister’s condo. Geoffrey had been dying to explore Sven’s place, but all he’d had time to do was glimpse the warm earth-toned furniture and plethora of family photos that covered every available surface.
Alida lived in a high-rise off Columbia Parkway and she had a fantastic view of the Ohio River. Like Geoffrey’s, her place had a wall of windows off the living room. Hers led to a covered balcony. Inside, the walls featured light beige and blue with a heavy contrast in the dark wood floors. It wasn’t a big place, but Geoffrey knew for a fact it wasn’t a cheap one—not with that view. Sven had told him on the way here that she’d bought it herself and her husband had moved in.
So yeah, her place was nice, but Geoffrey could not take his eyes off Alida Johnson.
“You could never convince anyone you aren’t related,” he blurted out.
Alida threw her head back and laughed. The move sent her long blonde hair to shake and shimmer down her back. Her long back. She was over six feet tall with the same bright green eyes and her smile looked so much like Sven’s, Geoffrey kept blinking at her. She wore jeans and a loose jade-colored T-shirt. Even her bare feet were long and elegant.
Like Sven’s.
“I’m happy to claim him as my brother,” she said, smiling as she handed a swaddled baby to Sven. “Always.”
“You’re like a goddess,” Geoffrey breathed. “A real, live goddess standing here. In the middle of Ohio. What brought you to this Earthen plane, O Bright One?” Geoffrey leaned over the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living area. “It was love, right? You must be Freya, and the only thing I can imagine that would bring a warrior goddess to this world is the kind of love your people wrote sonnets about.”