Precious Boy: Chosen Book 8 Read online

  I groaned, reaching up to let my face drop dramatically into my palm.

  That a boy, Kins! Flash your hard dick at your physically injured and emotionally traumatized, completely innocent, young mate.

  Sighing, I moved to the table and started arranging the food, making two place settings with the paper plates and plastic wear I'd had one of the guys pick up along with the food, then sat down across the table from the bathroom, hoping it would do something in the way of hiding what just wasn't going down.

  When Bentley emerged, he was blushing slightly, but his smile was sweet and shy, and told me he wasn't completely disgusted by the pervy guy who'd undressed and then ogled him.

  "I like both," he said quietly, coming to stand across the table from me where the other place setting was. "Really, there isn't much I don't like when it comes to food."

  He sat down, sliding his right arm beneath the table and reaching for the chow mein with his left. When he set the container down in front of him, he used a fork to scoop the noodles out onto the plate.

  A frustrated sigh left his mouth when some of the noodles slimed off of his fork and fell to the table. "Sorry, I can be a bit of a messy eater sometimes."

  His face looked so tortured, I desperately wanted to scoop him up in my arms and hold him.

  "It's really no problem, precious boy." Frowning as he made another awkward attempt, I asked, "Why don't you use your right arm to hold the container so you can lean over the plate and scoop the noodles onto it? You don't have to worry about the gauze. It's the waterproof kind. Just put the box in the crook of your elbow."

  Blinking at me for a moment, he licked his lips, frowning. "I usually do when it's just me and my brother. But I know my arm can be a bit off-putting sometimes. I didn't want to gross you out by handling the food with it."

  Feeling my throat close up a bit, I stood, scooting my chair around closer to my mate. "Oh, precious boy. Your arm doesn't bother me in the slightest. Forgive me. I assumed that since you had lived with this practically your whole life you would be long past the insecurities that came with it. If you would be more comfortable, I'll serve you, but don't derail from your norm because you’re worried about my sensibilities. I assure you, your precious arm doesn't offend me in the slightest."

  Looking at me from under those thick, dark lashes again, Bentley smiled sweetly, licking his lips before nodding and standing slightly. He picked up the box of chow mein with his left hand and positioned it in the crook of his right before forking out a good-sized portion onto his plate.

  He hesitated for a moment, clearly torn about something, before turning to me. "Would you like me to get you some?"

  The question was asked in such a small voice, I didn’t know that I would have been able to fully comprehend it, if it weren't for my shifter hearing. But when I did, I smiled happily, nodding.

  "Absolutely. You may serve me anytime you see fit, precious boy."

  "Tell me when."

  Once he scooped out another large portion, this time onto my plate, I nodded. "When."

  Grabbing the container with his left hand, he placed it back on the table and proceeded to serve us both a little of everything, looking the happiest I'd seen him since he'd woken up.

  "I have a feeling you are going to make a wonderful father someday," I blurted when we'd both eaten more of the food on our plates than were left.

  And he would. He was naturally a nurturer.

  Giving me a sad smile, Bentley looked back down at his food. "I would love to, but it's pretty unlikely. I'd have to find a mate first." He lifted his right arm before dropping it and putting it back under the table. Where it hadn't been since he'd started serving us. "I'm not really mate material."

  "The hell you're not." I growled, unreasonably angry that someone so perfect could think they weren't worthy of a mate because of something so preposterous as a missing limb.

  When he jerked back at my tone, I sighed, immediately feeling bad. "I apologize, precious boy." Taking a deep breath, because my voice was still gruff and I definitely needed a second or so to calm down, I smiled self-deprecatingly. "Please tell me you don't honestly believe you aren't worthy of a mate because of your precious arm. You are absolutely stunning, and one of the sweetest beings I've ever met in my life. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a mate."

  Swallowing, Bentley opened his mouth but seemed to be having trouble formulating words. "I…not…Thank you," he finally whispered. "I used to be proud of it. I could do the same stuff other people could do with one less limb. I was confident in it. I still kept the scars covered because my mom was…uh…bothered by them, but I was completely content with my situation."

  I felt my wolf rise. His mother had been bothered by them? In what way? Did they just make her sad because mothers hated to see their children hurt? Or was it something else?

  The way he'd said "bothered" made me think I wouldn't like the answer to that. Or his mother. But Marlow had warned me, hadn't he?

  "What changed?" I asked, trying to not to let my agitation show and scare my sweet mate.

  "A lot of things. Mostly, I came to realize that just because I was comfortable with it, didn't mean others were.

  "When my brother had to move for his television show, my parents shipped me off to a prep school about four hundred miles away from the new house. I was actually really excited my first day. I missed my brother like crazy, but I was going to get to be on my own, doing my own thing that didn't revolve around being dragged from one place to the next to watch Marlow do whatever it was they were forcing him to do that day. For me, it meant a bit of freedom. Of independence.

  "But my first day was far from what I expected. People gave me funny looks and whispered to each other while staring directly at me. It was like they thought not having part of my forearm, my wrist, or hand somehow made me deaf and blind as well. Looking back, I know now that they were just kids who had never been around someone like me, so they didn't have the sensitivity to handle it. But at the time, all I knew was that I was completely alone in a strange place, and anyone I stood too close to, or accidentally brushed against while moving down the hall, flinched away like they might catch whatever caused my arm to fall off." He sighed, rubbing the skin of his forehead with his fingertips.

  "I had always taken care of my brother up until that point. He’s older by two minutes, but I was the one who had to learn to do everything on my own, while Marlow was told every move to make every minute of every day. He didn't even have the freedom to pick what foods he ate because he had to stay lean to play the part of a kid who'd been living in the wild for his whole life."

  Bentley frowned, shaking his head. "I hated that for him. Our parents didn't give a shit about me, so I got to eat and do basically anything I wanted. He was always so restricted. I'd always slip him treats and sneak him out to do fun stuff.

  "But when I came home for Christmas that year, I wasn't the same. I tried to pretend, because he needed me, but it showed in the way I held my arm away from everyone and hid it all the time. It showed in the way I sidestepped everyone, trying to keep my distance from strangers, so I wouldn't freak them out." He shrugged.

  "I had left that fall a vibrant, independent boy who was excited about getting a chance to do something new, and came back an introverted shell of the boy I once was. Too afraid of other people's reactions to even meet the eyes of strangers. Or even my brother."

  He brightened, smiling slightly and shaking his head. "I've never seen Marlow throw a fit quite like the one he threw when they tried to send me back. Thirteen years old, and he knew that place was breaking me. He basically demanded the same tutor that was teaching him teach me, and eventually, they gave in.

  "Before that school, the little things my mother said might have hurt a little, but they really didn't change anything. Probably because I had people like my brother and the various cooks around the house who encouraged me to be me. But once that place got under my skin, it was like everything my moth
er said to me was automatically true.

  "She'd always doubted me, constantly telling me I couldn't do this, or I wouldn't be able to because of it. But then, she started saying I shouldn't. I shouldn't put it on the table in public so other people aren't forced to look at it, even though I always kept it covered up. I shouldn't hold things with it in public because it drew attention to it. And after the way those other kids had reacted to it back then, I believed her. I'd seen it with my own eyes."

  His voice changed. Nor really going sad. More like the emotion was leeched out. "Things continued like that for a while, but since Marlow had stood up to our parents, things had changed for the both of us. Now he was my protector. Where my confidence just continued to lessen, his grew.

  "I think the last straw for my brother was when she told me I shouldn't cook anymore because nobody wanted to eat something that had been prepared by a man with grotesque stump. Like it somehow made me gross. Made my arm gross. Marlow lost it. I've never seen him so angry. Not even when he'd demanded I stay with him instead of going back to that hellhole they called a prep school. For a moment, I was a little nervous he was going to strangle her. We left that night. He had money set aside that our parents didn't have put away somewhere where he couldn't get it without a DNA sample, so he bought our truck, and basically gave me my dream."

  Unable to hold back the fury burning inside me, I growled, "Your mother is a bitch."

  At Bentley's wide, surprised eyes, I cringed, hoping I hadn't scared him or overstepped a boundary by saying something about his mother.. "Sorry. I know that was a bit harsh, but I believe it to be true."

  Giggling, he picked up a slice of pizza and nibbled off a tiny bite. "No. You're right. She's actually a bitch."

  "So, when you find your mate," I started, leaning closer to him. "Do you want babies?"

  "Yes," he whispered, his eyes wide. "But I can't get my hopes up. Even if I get lucky enough to have a soulmate, there isn't any guarantee that he'll want to keep me. I know that I'm supposed to be perfect for him, but what if that was before? What if my losing my arm wasn't a part of the bargain?" His voice broke slightly before he swallowed and whispered, "What if he takes one look at me and doesn't want me?"

  I think my heart actually broke at that moment. There had been a time when this man had been proud of his strengths. But shallow, ignorant people had taken that from him. Had hurt him.

  "Would you?" I asked, needing to know. At his questioning look, I continued. "Would you be disappointed to find out your soulmate was missing a limb?"

  "No!" He shook his head emphatically. "If I was lucky enough to find my soulmate, and he actually wanted me, I wouldn't care if he was missing all his limbs. I would cherish him."

  Chapter Two

  I was trying desperately not to keep staring at this gorgeous man's half-naked body. And even harder to not sound completely pathetic. But my eyes kept straying and my mouth kept running.

  I sighed, closing my eyes. I couldn't concentrate with him sitting so close. I'd never met a man so ridiculously good-looking. Whose presence just seemed to both scare and invigorate me.

  And I'd been around plenty of gorgeous people. I was raised around actors.

  But Kinsey. My inner fourteen-year-old girl sighed dramatically. He was perfect. Lovely russet skin, sexy Latin features, a chiseled, delicious body, and I wasn't even going to try to speculate on the bulge I'd caught a glimpse of earlier.

  I was quickly finding myself obsessed with the way his muscles moved when he did something. All during the meal, his biceps had flexed, and I'd watched the tendons of his sexy forearms as he scooped up another bite of food and brought it to his mouth. I was seriously becoming worried about choking.

  And when he'd finished, the man had leaned back in his chair, making it extremely hard to concentrate on anything he was saying, because I couldn't help but notice how his dark smattering of sparse chest hair started to become more concentrated until it blended in with the happy trail leading down the deep groove in the center of his abs. It was almost like a yellow brick road for my eyes to follow all the way down to a bulge that was just out of my line of sight.

  I wondered how obvious it would be if I leaned sideways just a little. I just wanted a peek.

  "Are you getting tired, precious boy? You look like you’re about to fall out of your chair." The smirk on his face told me he knew I wasn't falling out of my chair because I was tired, and I had to wonder how obvious I'd been up until this point.

  Sighing, I rolled my eyes. "Sorry. Long day."

  "Yes it was. And now, after a giant meal, I'm getting a little sleepy myself." Holding his phone out to me, he smiled. "Call Marlow. His number is programmed in there. He's texted me about thirty-seven times since I let him know you were back and safe, and I'm beginning to think he questions my character."

  Giggling and then coughing, because I was trying to stop that damn giggling nonsense, I pulled up Marlow's number that I noticed had the caption "the twin" next to his name and smiled just barely as I hit call.

  I'd always been "the twin." In every situation, while we were growing up I had been designated Marlow's twin, or the other one, or my personal favorite and the one I'd never let Marlow hear because I knew he'd lose his shit: the twin with the arm thing.

  It was nice to be first for once.

  Marlow answered before it even finished ringing the first time, and I smiled when he immediately started bitching. Until I realized he was bitching at Kinsey.

  "Where the fuck is my brother, Kinsey? You better not be taking advantage of him!"

  "Marlow!" I don't know why the idea of my brother yelling at Kinsey pissed me off. Maybe because the man had saved me from the type of situation nightmares are made of. Maybe because he'd been caring for me, while simultaneously making me feel at ease with my right arm like I hadn't in years. "Don't be an ass."

  "Bentley? Oh thank God. I was starting to think he was going to steal you himself."

  Narrowing my eyes as I stood up to pace, I took a couple deep breaths before calmly saying, "I was passed out, Marlow. He saved me, bandaged my wounds and fed me. Do. Not. Talk about him like that."

  Snickering, Arry must have taken the phone from my overly protective brother. "I think you just shocked your brother into speechlessness. I should probably record this moment. His mouth is hanging open and everything." I could hear the giant smile in Arry's voice. "He's just worried."

  "I know, Arry. And I would be too if I was him, but Kinsey has been nothing but kind and he doesn't deserve that. He's acting like the man has been keeping me here against my will so he can seduce me, or something." Sighing, I turned to find Kinsey watching me, his eyes running up and down my body as I paced.

  I stopped for a second to look down and rolled my eyes. I probably looked ridiculous. This shirt was like, four sizes too big, and I didn't have any pants on.

  "Well? Has he?"

  Kinsey's lips twitched, and I knew he heard my…brother-in-law? Brother in mate-hood?

  "Of course not! What is wrong with you guys?" Not wanting to look Kinsey in the eye because my family was really starting to embarrass me, I started pacing again.

  "I wasn't asking in that way, Bent. I'm not accusing him of being a pervert or anything. But you're an extremely attractive guy. And that's not even bias talking just because I'm crazy about your twin. You just are. What's the fucking holdup?"

  I pulled the phone away from my head for a second, looking at it. Like maybe that would help me understand Arry's words a little better. That didn't clarify a damn thing. "I have no idea how to respond to that."

  "I do," Kinsey said from directly behind me, making me jump. Placing a warm hand on my hip while taking the phone from me and pressing it to his ear, he said, "Tell Marlow Bentley is fine. And you both obviously need to know I'm not an asshole that is going to immediately try to seduce Bentley directly after he's been through a traumatic experience. Even if you obviously think I should have already attacked him. I wil
l, however, continue to care for him until I feel like he’s ready to be around others. Even his brother."

  I wasn't sure what to think of everyone's discussion of Kinsey and I having sex like it was a foregone conclusion when he was clearly way out of my league. Even without the whole arm situation, he was absolutely amazing. Sexy, smart, caring. He held a position of power in one of the top organizations in the world. Leaps and bounds too good for a wannabe chef.

  Unfortunately, my dick wasn't all that reasonable. It was starting to respond to the feel of his hand on me, and I had to hope that the tiny little underwear I had on was enough to keep it under control. Thank goodness the shirt I was wearing was so loose. All I could do was cross my fingers that it was enough to keep my erection hidden.

  After a pause, where I could hear Arry's voice, but not exactly make out what he was saying, Kinsey lightly squeezed my hip, making me moan, which I quickly cut off with a cough.

  Oh shit! Weren't shifters supposed to be able to smell arousal?

  Kinsey's voice was softer when he answered Arry. "I know he is, Arlington. I could tell how strong he was the moment I found him. He was just calmly standing there, like he was waiting on us."

  I turned my head up and to the side, wanting to see Kinsey's face while he was saying such nice things about me with what sounded like pride in his voice. I gasped at the way he was looking back at me. If I didn't know better, I'd think he really did want to seduce me. His eyes were watching my mouth with an intensity I'd never had directed at me.

  Just the idea of putting my lips to his made them tingle. Swiping my tongue out to wet them, because my mouth breathing was drying them out, I didn't stop the moan that left my mouth this time when Kinsey's fingers dug into my hip, and I barely stopped myself from leaning in and pressing our lips together.

  "Hmm?" Kinsey asked, probably in response to something Arry said. "I don't have a clue what you just said. I think it might be time to get off the phone now."