Chapter 13
Months have passedsince the night Societas Exspiravit inducted me into their ranks, and I began my career as an assassin. Tavish has kept his promise to help me search for my sister. We've nae found any trace o' who purchased her all those years ago, but we've rescued some who say they recognize her, but it was years ago.
The connection I felt to the boy in that warehouse all those years ago has only grown stronger over the months since I shoved him against the stone walls o' the building above us. Whenever I find myself at headquarters, I always end up here, nae matter what. Sometimes, I even find myself checking in on him randomly, without reason. I just have to see him to make certain he's okay.
Tonight is one o' those nights. I woke from a dead sleep, and the erotic dream I had before awakening followed me into consciousness. My cock full-on, pointing straight at midnight. Nae even a run and a workout can distract me. An hour after waking, I find myself in my car with no clue where I am headed until I pull to a stop outside the Society's headquarters. It seems nothing can keep me from coming here, even when I have nae reason to be.
Unable to help myself, I make my way through the building to Tavish's rooms. Music screams through the room, masking my entry. Well, unless he's seen me on the surveillance cameras.
The kid really needs to lock the door iffn he's going to listen to music so loud.
I stand in the shadows o' the room, watching him. He's pecking at the keyboard, but it's not the usual fluid movements. It's angry and frustrated, but it's also slower than normal.
Jesus. I've become a stalker.
I scrub my hands over my face at the thought. I cannae deny the truth o' it, though. I watch him whenever I have the chance. Simon, iffn he were still alive, would be crowing and dancing. Tavish was just the boy Simon and I were searching for before everything went to shit.
The dark brown waves quiver around his head as he stretches and yawns. Now I know why he seems off. He's tired. As I scrutinize his appearance and surroundings, I notice the mess. There are empty energy drink cans, candy, and chip bags strewn about.
Rounding the desk so he can see me, I ask, "How long have you been up?"
He looks at me, his eyebrow hiked up his forehead. His eyes trail down my body, then retrace the path back to mine. He licks his lips, and my cock thuds in my pants, plumping up, but he says nothing. He just turns back to the scrolling lines o" code and text that I couldn't explain if my life was on the line.
"Draven, I"m busy," he says, dismissing me.
I lean over his monitors, my height making it an easy feat, and take his hands in mine. I press them against the desk, flattening them out.
"Look at me, Tavish," I command.
My rough, gravelly voice widens his pupils. His Adam's apple slips up and down as he tries to meet my gaze. I'm so fucking proud when his gaze gets to my mouth. Not wanting to push him any further, I let the lack o" eye contact slide.
"Ye need sleep. Yer never clumsy, and yet yer covered in spills and stains."
Wiping my hand across the desk, I point out, "And there's something sticky on the desk and under it, too."
He nods, swallowing. He clears his throat a couple o" times and says, "Everly needs information. I can"t stop until I get it to her."
Everly's been riding him hard. We all have. There's a member o" the old order trying to restart their operations. It isn't uncommon. All the old dogs have tried to relaunch their trafficking rings. We've shut every one o" them down, putting the perpetrators in the ground as we saved the victims from a plight worse than death.
"But…I'm so close," he whines.
Another telltale sign he's wiped. He's a bratty little fuck, filled with the most delicious sass. Whining isn't usually his quirk. Not unless he's tired. The boy needs sleep. If he were mine, I'd whip his ass until it was red, then put him to bed.
But he's nae mine. Nae really.
Only because I won't go there.
I shake my head. I cannae keep going there. I'm too fucking old for him. Too old, too dirty, too kinky, too everything. He needs a kid his own age, nae someone pushing fucking forty who wants to make him eat, sleep, and do as he's told.
Thirty-five. Barely.
Ignoring the asshole living in my skull, I let my gaze run over him. There are black circles under his eyes, and his eyes are bloodshot. His lips and skin are dry. His lips are chapped; they're so dry.
"Tavish, ye need to find someone that can help ye down here. I know we have more than one techy in the society," I push.
He growls, tossing a handful o" chips and then a handful o" candy into his mouth, chomping furiously. He's as territorial.
Fuck! I pushed too hard.
He will hate that I know and that I witnessed this, but he can suck it. I fucked up. I pushed him too far, too fast.
Yet another reason I'm no good for him.
Tavish is usually very texture-conscious. He hates his food to touch, yet he's mixing them unconsciously. I wait for it. I know what's coming. His cheeks puff, his eyes cross, and tears gather in his eyes. He swallows several times, but I know nothing's going down.
I reach over and pick up the dustbin, ordering him to spit it out. He shakes his head, gagging and swallowing. His beautiful face is squinty and mottled.
"Spit it out, boy. Now," I growl at him.
He does so immediately, the mixture o" candy and chips splattering inside the bin. Tears and snot run down his face as he continues retching. I circle the desk, pulling him from the chair and sitting down in it, placing him in my lap.
"I-I'm so-so-sorry," he cries as he dry heaves.
I say nothing. I just rub his back and let him recover in his own time. In his own way. Movement catches my attention, and I level a glare at the intruder, and they back away. Zayn and his fucking "payments."
As if Tavish needs any more junk food.
I take the bin, sitting it on the floor. Standing, I scoop the boy up in my arms. I carry him through the rooms he's claimed in the basement o" the creepy ass building the Society headquarters are in. Tavish is one o" the verra few members who live on site.
"Where are you taking me?" Tavish asks, his voice small and reedy. If I didn't already suspect he was a boy, I woulda have to be blind nae to see it now.
"To the bathroom, to brush yer teeth. Then to bed to rest."
"But…"
"No. You're going to get some sleep, mo ghille. I'll wake you when it's time to rise, not before."
I sat him down on his feet. My hands resting on his shoulders. I've never felt attracted to someone who was so much smaller than me before. Simon had been much shorter than me, but broad and muscular enough that he didn't feel smaller.
Tavish is tiny compared to either Simon or me. The difference is substantial. Combined with his boyish good looks and little tendencies that have shown themselves during our time together several months ago, he has my cock hard as a rock.
I lean over him, pulling him into the curve o" my body.
"Now, brush your teeth."
Tavish did as I told him, shaking off the anxiety and tension I could see swirling inside those expressive dark eyes. When he had brushed his teeth, I walked him back to the bedroom.
"Nightclothes?"
Pink tinges his cheeks instantly. I wait to see if he will say something.
"Underwear?"
The pink turned redder, and he shook his head.
"Okay," I say, reaching for the hem o" his shirt.
His eyes grow wide as I pull the shirt off. I drop it next to the bed and continue stripping him. I watch him closely, looking for any hesitation or reluctance. There is none until I reach for the flap on his jeans.
My fingers brush his belly as I grab the fabric to open the placket, and he gulps. His Adam's apple jumps, and he stops breathing, but I'm not sure if it's hesitation or reluctance. It seems more like…
"Please don't tease me," he whimpers softly.
"I don't plan on it, lilla du," I reassure him, opening the flap and lowering the zipper.
Fuck!
It's near impossible to keep the smirk I feel tugging at my mouth to myself. The boy is hard, and instead o' the expected cotton, I'm surprised to find silk and lace underneath.
So damn sexy.
I ignore the tantalizing sight. I remove his pants, helping him lift his legs as I pull them from his feet. I toss them aside. The boy is trembling.
I pull the scrap o' fabric off him. It barely covers him as it is.
"Daddy!" he gasps.
Jesus, I love the sound o' that. It's been too damn long.
I try to rein in my eagerness. "I'm not sure we're at that point yet. How about Draven or possibly sir?"
"How about Daddy?" He smarts off, his eyes going wide.
I chuckle. "You're a brat."
He just gets better and better.
"I'm sorry," he says immediately, fear coloring his expression.
I want to murder the motherfucker who did this to him.
"I'm nae. I like brats," I say as I let go o' the leash on the smirk I've been wrangling. I feel it tug at my face, and Tavish's face loses its worry. The impish little grin returns.
"Now get in bed," I say as I pull open the blankets for him.