King Tomb (Forever Evermore, #3)(72)
Ezra’s heart rate wasn’t doing much better, and I reached back with my free hand when he kind of tilted against me, and grabbed his hip, keeping him steady and damn near holding all his weight, his hands instantly gripping my shoulders for added support.
Ever so slowly, one of Antonio’s hands began to lift. Hovered.
Lowered a bit as he stared at the cup.
Air shuddered past his lips, then he finished raising his hand to the cup and took a firm hold on it. “I love you, too. Even when you hurt me, I never stopped.” Golden eyes touched and held Cahal’s dark ones, his love vulnerably revealed in his expression, his gaze, and his act as he lifted the cup to his lips, staring at Cahal over the rim as he took a sip.
Cahal’s chest shuddered, and he accepted the cup back from Antonio, taking another sip, grinning, his eyes appearing misty as he lowered the cup, then he rumbled quickly, “Ezra, you’ll want to leave now.”
I jerked as Cahal blurred, and suddenly the cup was on the nightstand, and Antonio was flat on his back on the mattress with Cahal over him…and yeah, I could see tongues moving together as their heads tilted, hands gripping each other’s cheeks or hair or nape or wherever their hands were wandering. The only thing I think that kept Ezra standing was the fact that the sheet had luckily moved with them, again covering their lower sections. Cahal heaved in a breath, demanding against Antonio’s mouth, “Queen Ruckler, get King Zeller out of here.”
I physically jolted out of my shock, Ezra’s body kind of moving with mine since he was lying against me so heavily, and I quickly averted my gaze from them, muttering, “Right. Right. We’re leaving.” I turned, literally lifting one of Ezra’s large arms over my shoulders, and started dragging him out as Antonio began to glow a little, which I somehow knew — this knowledge weirded me out a bit since it was from my voids — it meant he was becoming turned on, a Mage’s telltale of arousal. Yep, I hastened my way through the room, tugging Ezra and kicking a couple of empty orange juice bottles — didn’t want to know — out of our path.
As soon as we brushed past the tent flap to the front room and it closed behind us, any sounds — good Lord — of our dads doing their thing abruptly cut off with the privacy spell. After debating my options, there weren’t many since we couldn’t go outside like this, I dumped Ezra’s half-slack form on the golden couch.
Taking one good look at his face told me he was close to passing out, so I placed the other coffee cup in his hands. “Ezra, you need to drink this. A little caffeine will help to clear your head.” He lifted it methodically, green eyes staring off into nothing as he took a few gulps. It had to burn his throat, but he didn’t even flinch. “Alrighty. How about a smoke, too?”
When no answer was made, I started digging through his pockets, finally finding them in the inside pocket of his robe, which I hadn’t even known was there. I took one out and placed it between his lips, flicking his lighter, the flame bright in front of his face. “Here you go.”
He tilted his head slightly, uncannily meeting the flame with the end of his cigarette — even as he still stared off into nothing — pulling so the end lit.
I found an empty glass for him to ash in and sat on the coffee table directly in front of him, babbling about nothing in particular and periodically ordering him to ash or drink, which he did when told.
Eventually, he interrupted my ramblings with a grunt, still staring over my shoulder, and said with perplexity, “That, I never would have expected in a million years.”
I nodded once. “Me either.”
He blinked.
Blinked again. “It also sounded as if this wasn’t a new love, but my mom, my dad’s mate, died only a little over a year ago, and I know this is the first time they’ve been together in the past year.” Another blink. “They said they had never stopped loving each other.”
Yeah, I had caught that.
He glanced at me, lifted the lighter from my hand and lit another cigarette, then stared back over my shoulder, his eyebrows puckered. “Does this mean he loved Elder Farrar while he was mated to my mom?”
My lips pinched, not really wanting to answer that one, but I ultimately sighed and began to explain the best way I knew how. “I’ve been mated before—”
“So have I.”
“Well, being mated didn’t stop you from loving your dad, did it?” I didn’t think I needed to say anything else. Being mated didn’t mean you lost all emotions for everyone. All it did was physically keep you sexually faithful to your mate.
Ezra grunted. “Never in a million years…” He went completely still a second later, his heart rate doubling. “Wait. If they get married, then you and I…” His eyes rounded and he choked on his smoke. “Oh hell, maybe I can stop this somehow.” He actually began lifting from the couch, his attention on the flap to Antonio’s bedroom.
Using a quick hand, I shoved him back — hard — onto the couch, staring into his surprised, wide gaze. “Ezra, calm down. Antonio is like a dad to me. Not technically my dad. He never adopted me.” I pointed between us. “We wouldn’t be step-siblings.” I patted the air. “Find your calm place and try to breathe.”
Ezra stared. He breathed in heavily through his nose, then slowly out through his mouth. “I’m freaking out a bit.” No shit. “I didn’t expect this.” No shit. “How are you so calm?”