Page 27 of Jorhee

“Why do you always wear a shirt?” I asked him, unable to stand it any longer. “I mean, only you, the ambassador, and his aide do, as far as I can tell.” I frowned. “Your dads always wear those capes, so I’ve never seen their wings either, come to think of it.”

Johree looked surprised by my sudden question, letting out a low chuckle that was far sexier than it had any right to be. It sent butterflies to my stomach and made my dick perk up in interest.

“You’ve only seen my fathers during official business or shortly after, and they’ve been wearing their official robes. As for the ambassador, his aide, and myself, it’s the custom when meeting a new species to keep our wings under wraps, so as to appear less threatening. The presence of the shirt reminds us to not extend them, no matter how high emotions might run. But we can release them if necessary, regardless.”

He placed my glass next to me, where I was looking at images of the prairie and fields of wheat with a color wheel next to them. When I went to send Bob the house plans, I’d had a sudden rethink about the exterior color. I still wanted it bright, for it to be a beautiful painted dame of a house. But the blue green would blend too much into the landscape, and so I was trying to come to a decision as to what color I did want, which would complement the landscape without losing the statement I wanted it to make.

“That makes sense, I guess, about why I haven’t seen y’all’s wings, but won’t it hurt them if you bust them out through your shirt?”

He chuckled again, this time turning his back towards me.

“See the pleats along the back of my shirt?”

“Yeah.”

It was hard to miss when about five or six of them made up the back of his shirt under the yoke.

“Two of them align over my wing pockets, so if I wish to extend my wings, they will slide through. I simply haven’t yet, around you, as I’m hoping to surprise you with the sight of them as I take flight and carry you away to the manse after the ceremony.”

My lips parted. Oh, yes, I wanted that - to be carried away by my dragon before he gave me a thorough ravishing. This was something I’d found very few partners willing to do. I wasn’t a very tall man, but I certainly wasn’t short, standing just a smidge under six feet without any shoes on. Years of ranch work and riding horses had given me a strong physique, with corded muscle along my arms and legs, as well as a strong back. Most guys assumed I wanted to top, when in fact, I much preferred to bottom. Not that I didn't like topping on occasion, but if given the choice, I liked the feeling of a larger man pinning me to the mattress or against a wall, giving me a good railing I’d feel for days every time I sat down. Plus, I was an unabashed cuddler, and I had a love of pretty things. None of which made me less of a man. Toxic masculinity had a lot to answer for, that’s for sure, when it came to how men thought “manly looking” men should feel and act.

“I can’t wait,” I said, as he turned around, staring at me, waiting for a reply.

He beamed at me.

“Good.” He leaned down to peer at my laptop screen, where I’d put a visual representation of our house in a picture of the empty building space for it, as created by Bob after I sent him the floor plans and pictures of various Victorian houses asinspiration. He’d managed to get the look just right, even if the square footage was a lot more gargantuan than I’d imagined.

“Try this color,” he said, tapping the blue color wheel.

“Robin’s egg blue,” I said, reading it as I selected it, giving the house a color wash.

“And try this one for the steps and trim.”

It was a deep teal.

“Make the flagstones to the house and the porch railings white, but the floorboards teal,” I said, getting excited as I made the changes even as I suggested them. “Oh! That’s it! Now we just need to make note of the color chart numbers for Bob and then we can share them with the people who’re making the stained glass so they know the house’s color palette.”

He grinned, dropping a kiss onto my head.

“I think the roof coverings should have a bit more blue in the gray,” he said.

“Hmm.” I played around a bit until we found just the right saturation to make it look right.

“Perfect,” he agreed.

“Saving this and sending it to Bob along with the color wheel numbers.”

That took all of a couple minutes. I stood up and stretched after I sent it, picking up my drink, intending to go sit in the media room and get Johree to sit on one side of me so I could snuggle into his side, with Buster on the other while I put on a few episodes of Little House on the Prairie so Johree understood a bit more about just what Bob had done and why I’d found it hilarious.

“Come on, let’s watch some TV,” I said, snagging his hand in my free one, tilting my face up for a kiss.

He pressed his lips sweetly to mine, sipping gently at them for a few moments before stopping to lead me to the couch. I missed them instantly.

Damn it, it’s going to be a long few days. I hope I don’t die of blue balls before then.

19

JOHREE