Fuck, Wiley is cute.
His living room looked like something out of a teenager’s dream, yet he was definitely not a teenager. How old was he? Midtwenties, maybe. Not too much younger. Baer had just turned thirty-one in September.
Guilt swirled in his stomach about dragging Wiley into his mess, but a part of him was happy he was bringing the man back to the plantation to stay. Wiley intrigued him with his enthusiasm and adorable, tight body. He had a flawless little ass that would fill Baer’s palms perfectly. He pulled his mind from that direction.
Queenie meowed low and long, and he couldn’t stop his laugh. Images of her shitting in Wiley’s shoes filled her head as she plotted her revenge for being cooped up in the carrier.
“Soon, you’ll have the run of a much bigger place, so just cool your jets,” he told her while using his powers to send an image of safety and wide-open space.
All she did was give him the stink eye through the little slats.
With Wiley in the bedroom packing, Baer took a moment to snoop just a little bit. He wanted to know a little more about the man who’d so unexpectedly caught his attention. It was clear Wiley was somewhat of a slob, but he knew very few people who weren’t when they were left on their own. Not dirty so much as drop it and pick it all up later.
Besides the plethora of comic books, he had an entire bookcase filled with DVDs. The majority were action movies or comic-book-based movies. There was another bookcase of comics and novels. Explosions and fantasies at every turn. His furniture was worn and comfortable. Bright colors sprung from every surface.
If anything, Wiley’s apartment showed the same exuberance Wiley seemed to feel about everything in life.
The only thing that didn’t seem larger than life was the small framed picture that sat on a bookshelf. It was Wiley and an older woman. Wiley looked about three or four years younger than he did now. This must be his grandmother. But there were no other pictures of family or friends.
Baer eyed the posters and couldn’t help but smile. He and his brothers were probably like candy to someone like Wiley. He’d called them a dream come true. He’d have to take Wiley out to the clearing and show off his shapeshifting abilities.
Just knowing he wanted to show off for the man made him catch his breath. He couldn’t deny he wanted Wiley, wanted that slender body underneath him. Baer nearly groaned at the direction of his thoughts—he was no better than a randy teenager.
Wiley didn’t seem like the hookup type, and Baer couldn’t be after anything more permanent. Eventually his soul mate would show up, and that would be that. Hooking up with Wiley couldn’t happen.
He walked to the window and looked out to make sure no pestilents were outside waiting for them. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but he still used his powers to reach out to the animals in the immediate area. They were good about steering clear of the pestilents because of their strange otherness. The animals showed nothing to be concerned about.
Still, restlessness filled him as he willed Wiley to hurry so they could get to safety.
Man, he would hate to have something happen to the sweet guy.
“I’m all packed and ready to go,” Wiley announced, dragging a large suitcase on wheels behind him while a backpack was slung over one shoulder. He stopped sharply. “Oh wait, I should grab Queenie’s things—food and bowl. Her litter box and some toys.” Wiley set the suitcase on the floor and hurried into the kitchen. He washed the cat’s food bowl and grabbed a bag of dried food.
“I’ll get Queenie and her things,” Baer offered. He picked up the cat carrier and got a nice, long growl for his effort. An image of her biting his hand filled her head.
“I can ride with you and leave my car here,” Wiley said as he carried Queenie’s stuff into the living room. “Warning you now, she’ll bitch throughout the entire ride in the Jeep. She hates traveling as much as she hates that carrier.”
“Understood.”
It took a couple of trips to get all the stuff carried from Wiley’s apartment down to the Jeep, but Baer did it as quickly and efficiently as possible. His main concern was getting Wiley and Queenie to the plantation safely.
Of course, Queenie started complaining the second he started the engine. They couldn’t talk over her racket the entire drive home. Baer got more images of her plans for revenge and couldn’t help but laugh. Wiley was right—his cat was a real bitch. He kind of felt sorry for thrusting her onto Ruby.
When they arrived, he took Wiley and the carrier upstairs to the bedroom Wiley was going to be using. He noticed Wiley counting under his breath as they walked up the stairs. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask about it, but Wiley’s expression was so intense and his shoulders so taut with nerves that Baer swallowed back the question. He didn’t want the poor guy to feel uneasy in a place he was going to be calling home for a while. And, well, Wiley seemed to have it all under control. His apartment was on the second floor. He handled stairs every day.