Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
“It’s fine,” he said, without even looking back at the boy, and stormed out of the bathroom, heading straight for the door out of the apartment. Even Hound’s whimper wouldn’t stop him.
Chapter 22 - Laurent
Beast had been gone for a week now. Laurent had been stunned at first when he found out Beast had left without as much as a goodbye. That after all they’d been through, he went off with Joker and Gray to do some vague ‘job’ in New York, and as much as Laurent understood that it was something Beast had to do, it still hurt to be left behind without an explanation.
At least he had Hound, who’d stopped being scary a while back, and Beast’s scent in the bed that felt much too big for him now. He agonized over the events in the bathroom, wondering if he should have called the devil in the first place every time he looked at the broken mirror.
What could he do other than wait though? He read yet more books, made himself useful in any ways possible, spent time around the Kings of Hell, their women, other hangarounds. He worked hard on fitting in and yet wasn’t even close to achieving that goal, but the more time he dedicated to learning the ways of modern people, the more he felt that there was a place for him in 2017, even if he was considered eccentric. People here seemed to have a tolerance for oddness far exceeding that of Laurent’s own time.
On Sunday morning, he was torn between anticipation and anger. It was the day when Beast was supposed to come back from his run, and considering that Laurent had had no communication from him for an entire week, he didn’t even know how to greet his manfriend—or as Nao told him, boyfriend, which was apparently used with no regards to age.
He couldn’t just accept Beast leaving without saying goodbye. Not after he’d walked out on him after the devil refused to grant Beast an audience. It was hardly Laurent’s fault, and it hurt him deeply that Beast seemed to have put the blame on him. After so many days without having heard Beast’s voice, Laurent was starting to think that he was the only one feeling the loss.
Unsure whether he had appetite at all yet knowing he should eat something, he hovered aimlessly around the kitchen. Most people who hung around the clubhouse were out, some spending time with their families, which left Laurent stranded. He considered preparing a snack to welcome Beast home, but that only made him feel pathetic. He could cook things that only needed heating, but after watching Martina work her magic and make the most elaborate meals from scratch, he knew his skills in the that department were severely lacking.
Was food really the only nice thing he could do for Beast? His lover most definitely enjoyed the carnal side of whatever one would call their relationship, but it made Laurent uncomfortable to think that lust might be the only thing he was good for. The need to satisfy him became more prominent every time Laurent thought of the vile way King was using Beast, but he kept telling himself that it would only last until Beast’s birthday. Telling him now would cost Laurent his life.
The itch to consume sugar hit Laurent almost immediately, so he scooted down to pull some cookies out of the bottom shelf of the kitchen island.
Loud laughter resonated in the room nearby, followed by the sound of bodies crashing against metal. The female voice sounded like Jordan, Knight’s girlfriend, who never even awarded Laurent with a single sentence spoken directly to him. He didn’t like her very much, and neither did Beast, although Laurent’s man never voiced that sentiment.
“Oh, Babe, show me,” said Knight in a low, raspy voice that instantly put Laurent on high alert.
Oh, no.
Laurent froze when he realized what was happening. A soft thud and a jangle of glass over the coffee table suggested Knight and Jordan had gone for the sofa. Laurent fought a battle of wills with himself, wondering whether he should announce his presence somehow but then moans and the sound of slapping of flesh against flesh began.
Public sex in the clubhouse was an occurrence that never failed to make him uncomfortable, no matter how many times he stumbled upon couples engaged in such illicit encounters. Maybe if he stayed quiet by the cupboards for long enough, Knight and Jordan would eventually go away.
A loud slap accompanied Jordan’s moan and rattling. Which sounded as if something knocked against the coffee table. “Go on, pull up that dress for me. Show me your ass now, or I won’t allow you come today.”
Laurent covered his face, too embarrassed for words. Was this going to take long? Maybe he should come out and excuse himself after all? Or try to crawl to the door when they weren’t looking? What a disaster.