Time out with Steffan is almost as exhausting as managing the children, the Strigoi has very little inhibitions when it comes to what he wants to do. Much as he'd stated that we were late for a hair appointment, that didn't stop him from stopping to get iced coffee or pestering me into getting something as well. 

I tip my flask when he's not looking, spiking my coffee, and deal with the stroking and primping that comes with a haircut. I had had servants cut my hair before, and in this time various of our female friends had done it, but a professional wasn't something I'd often thought about. With my aversion to being touched, it was often the last thing on my radar. 

Watching myself in the mirror, I frown at the olive-skinned adult looking back at me. My hair was thick, coarse, and heavy. Steffan had specifically asked for a woman to do my hair, while a slim androgynous person did his own. She tangles her fingers in it, asking me simple questions about what I do with it and what I was hoping to get out of the experience. 

The answer was I really didn't know. 

Product? Styling? Come to think of it, Verando was often relatively well groomed compared. Even with his various tangles and messy style, there was order in the chaos. 

"You look uncomfortable." She points out gently, removing her hands from my shoulders to place them on the chair instead. "I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do, I get people all the time who are drug here by their friends, you don't have to get anything done."

Steffan rolls his eyes, one leg crosses over the other as the person works to comb out his vast trellis of hair. "Yes you do, Nic. Don't be so nice to him, he's ruled a country, he's gone to war, now it's time for him to look the part of a housewife. He wants to look pretty." The strigoi waves me off with a contented sigh. 

She pulls her lips into an apologetic smile. "Husband or wife at home?"

"Husband." I shrug, not necessarily shy, but uncomfortable all the same. I'd spoken before thousands of people, I'd been bathed in blood and dragged through sulpher, why did this bother me so much?

"Nice. Are you feminine or masculine? What are you hoping to portray? What's your job? Stef says that you... ruled the country?"

I reached for my coffee, taking a long gulp to calm my shot nerves, I was on edge and irritable beyond the discomfort. "I don't think about it really, I'm a man? I act as a man?" Thinking to my various friends, I supposed it was necessary to ask such a thing. My current hairstyle was longer, covering my ears and teasing at the nape of my neck, I could see her wondering if I was attempting some sort of style. 

"He's the Good King, honey." Stef inserts, making the room fall silent. 

"Thanks, Stef." I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose before she quickly places her hands on my shoulders as gently as she can manage. 

"No no, it's alright. I'm just surprised, but we get plenty of high-end clients. So then your husband is.. Verando Mercer..? What do you think about his current hairstyle, the sides are shorter and the top is longer and messy, do you want something like that?"

While it felt entirely unnecessary, it seemed to be something that Steffan wanted to do. I shrug, much to everyone's disappointment. "I want a typical hairstyle, I'd rather not look like Mr.Mercer. His hair is naturally that way, I have no desire to style mine."

Nodding, she feels the weight of my hair once more and gets to work on cutting it, wetting it down, and combing it in various directions. It seems to amuse her just how thick it is. 

"You're true to your heritage, look at those locks, no wonder Verando likes to pull you around by them." Steffan giggles, earning a scowl from me as I try and focus on every snip and cut. "You could take this as something fun and not as an act of war. I'm sorry, usually, he's a lot more fun than this."

"I'm not nearly drunk enough," I grumble, finishing off my coffee and closing my eyes to attempt to relax. "We need to run by the shop today, I need to go and talk to them and figure out exactly what kind of shop I'm running. Legardo mentioned fixing Verando's car a few weeks ago, I think it's about time I try and do that if he's going to be gone for two months."

Steffan nods in agreement, accepting a glass of white wine from a passing assistant. "Don't you own a diesel shop?"

"Well, how different could it all be?" I retort, "There's no reason we can't switch it up and try, how hard could it all be?"

The person cutting Steffan's hair raises an eyebrow, "They're very different... what kind of car?"

I consider this for a moment, "It was a Saleen sports car, I still have the body in storage. A.." I try and think about how to explain that Verando demolished it when he had gone rogue. 

"A bear attacked it." Steffan winks, sipping his drink once more. 

"A bear?" They ask, not sounding very convinced. "How destroyed is it?"

We exchanged a nervous laugh, it was considered irreparable. But, I had to try, or at least figure out how to make him another one. "The Saleen was discontinued almost one hundred years ago, it was a gift that Verando had gotten out of someone's private collection. There's nothing else like it right now, not unless someone else wants to hand out another historical car, and with our track record..."

"Buy another one?" The woman asks. 

"Verando isn't going to spend money like that right now, he's freaking out about their tour schedule," I grumble, sighing, wanting to run a hand through my hair but she smacks it away. 

"Well..." The person considers, cutting layers into the Stirgoi's mane, "Do you think that he would consider investing in your business? Surely the world still has rich people, people who want what your husband had? Might be a good business venture. I'd say there are plenty of envious idiots who'd love a sports car-"

We both stare at the individual in the mirror, making them clear their throat. 

"Not that Mr.Mercer is an idiot.. but.. hmm, never mind. My point is the same."

It wasn't a bad idea, something we'd talked about briefly but not something I'd entertained with how back and forth our lives had been. There wasn't anyone currently making the car that Verando had or anything like them. All of the rebuilds had been focused on remodeling the military vans and war vehicles into something modern civilians could drive but considering the majority of people still relied entirely on the rail system, many weren't even driving. 

All of Verando's cars were converted into a stick shift, at Marcello's recommendation, so that it would be difficult to steal them.

My hairdresser blows out my hair with a hair dryer, before combing in my part. A heavy side part with a little bit of texture and the sides shortened to a slight fade. "What do you think?"

Steffan purrs in approval, "Ooo, very executive. People are going to have to start calling you Mr.Mercer instead."

I tilt my head, admiring the handiwork and what the haircut does to my face and jawline. I had to admit, it was a better look. She'd even lined up my facial hair, though I wasn't big on having any sort of beard, I could appreciate the light peppering of stubble where I'd forgotten to shave this morning. 

She smiles over my shoulder, "Fit for a king, I'd say."

I notice that Steffan's hair is considerably shoulder, cut into a much more manageable shoulder-length style that could still be thrown up and braided. 

We departed quicker than he might have liked but I was spent on the social aspect of the day, one difficult part of being home with the children meant less social interaction and I was starting to enjoy my peace. 

Climbing back into the car, I admire myself in the rearview mirror once more, pursing my lips as Steffan hops in with a knowing look. 

"What?" I sigh, shaking my head at his grin.

"Nothing, I'm just glad to see you enjoying yourself for once. You're very pretty, you know. Oh, sorry, masculine..." He snickers, gesturing down the road as we pull out. "Go down a few blocks, and pull off into that shopping center. I want to do some shopping before we go to your shop."

The rest of the day is spent indulging, while I don't feel particularly good about spending Verando's money, I remind myself that I would be contributing more soon and that we had had no qualms about spending my money when I was king. 

We ended the day with a quick stop at the shop, uprooting the poor mechanics who were happily trying to make a living before I stepped in and decided to ask them to get quotes on what a remodel would cost. While they looked stunned by any of my suggestions, they seemed willing to at least look into it for me. 

Much as I'm feeling renewed and revitalized, the ache begins to creep back into my stomach the closer we get to our house. I'd been able to forget it, to work around the discomfort and the heat building in my body, and yet knowing we were heading home was enough to make my heart rate pick up. 

My mind drifted to his expression when I left, the light eyes devouring me, his lips on mine, and the desperation in which he kissed me. I think about my knee stroking against him, slipping between his thighs, my teeth catching my lower lip. 

"Nervous?" Steffan asks, sensing my pounding pulse. I jump, cursing under my breath at the suddenness of the question.

"About what? Verando? I've been having pretty aggressive sex with him for years, I'm a bit out of practice but I think I'll manage."

With a laugh, Steffan reassured me with no words that I'd read the question entirely wrong. But, we'd spent so much time together today, and I'd slipped enough sips from my flask, that I cared very little about stating the obvious. "Well, I guess that would be something to be nervous about. Yes and no, I mostly mean asking your husband for money. It's not something you seem to like doing. I guess you're planning to fuck the funds out of him?"

I'd mostly been focused on the fact that the wolf was waiting for me back in the depths of our home.

"Yuck Stef, don't say it like that... Randy isn't used to having money, he'll give me whatever I ask him for, I've just got to make sure I don't make any mistakes. I want to talk to him about it, but I think I might go and look for investors before I ask him to jump in. Maybe people looking to get on his good side would be interested."

Impressed, Steffan paws through my pockets to find my flask and takes a sip, though he shakes the near-empty can at me. "Damn Nic."

"Been a long day. You should be grateful I can still drive, I've not drunk like this in weeks."

"Oh, weeks. Special occasion, I see." He chuckles, taking another sip before twisting the cap back on. "I'll be your investor, your sugar daddy. You don't even have to have sex with me."

"Well, you're already fucking my... son... ?"

"Yuck." Steffan sticks out his tongue, wrinkling his nose. "I don't like that at all."

"Think how I feel! You're my son-in-law if you marry him. Then we wonder why we're all so fucked up." I pull in front of my house, resisting the urge to run a hand through my hair. "Mmm... well, all the movers are gone, so either they're all dead or the great rebuild is over."

"Want me to wait in case he isn't here? You've got a few more hours before the kids come home." Steffan glances at me, gauging my expression but my wolf has already beaten him to it. I wanted to go to him, and I had enough alcohol in me that maybe I could let my inhibitions go and actually enjoy myself. "I'll take that as a 'no'. Lycans... bunch of heathens." 

Opening the door, he's gone as quickly as he was here. 

I step out, finishing up my flask and tossing it into the back seat as I jog up to the house and slip inside. The furniture was done, dark shades from the red oak kitchen table to the ashy chairs and the nearly black couch. It went well with the light airy nature of the home, especially since he'd busted out a back wall with his fight with Anubis. 

The large windows flood natural light in, I take a slow inhale, scanning the nearly silent house for any sign of my warlord. 

Don't be too devastated if he's not here.

Trying to be patient, savoring the hunt, I step through the downstairs rooms, enjoying the way the house was saturated in him. It was a familiarity that made the warmth rush to my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering at the sensation of my clothes brushing against my sensitive skin. 

"You better be here, asshole," I murmur, checking the children's room before moving down the hall to our bedroom. 

Slipping past the open door, I check to see that his clothes have indeed been removed and placed in the hamper. I could hear the distant rumble of the washer, and smell the freshness of his scent heavy in our room. 

"Randy?" I call once, unwilling to sound like a lunatic calling into the emptiness of our home. 

"In here." His voice makes me jump, I tread into the bathroom, spotting him submerged in the tub up to his neck as I flick on the light, causing him to flinch. 

"You're sitting in the dark? Did turning into Death make you into a vampire?"

"Helps me clear my mind." Verando exhaled, eyes shut, and reclined back into a towel. The heat of the room and the steam made sense for the state of the house, drowning me in his delicious aroma. "Did you have fun?"

I can hardly get past the fact he's submerged. "When did this happen? You're... you're in the water?"

Frowning, Verando reluctantly opens his eyes, staring up at the ceiling before turning his head to glance at me. "A teenager yesterday jumped off a bridge... drowned."

"You're punishing yourself?" I groan, inhaling sharply as he climbs out of the tub, grabbing a towel to dry off but not bothering to cover himself. I can't help myself as I rake over every inch of his body, drinking him in, spying those tempting pierced nipples. "I leave for a few hours and you start without me?"

Approaching me, his tortured expression never leaves my lips, I quickly stop him before his wet body can touch me. "I'm not punishing myself. Knowing that I can't die takes some of the bite out of fearing I'll drown." Verando pushes past my hands, pulling me closer to him as his nose skirts possessively over my hair. "You smell different."

"Hair cut.. sorry, I didn't think about-"

His finger catches my chin, tilting my jaw up as his hand slips to cup my cheek. "It looks good, very.... you. If only you weren't so damn short." Exhaling, his thumb drags over my lower lip, I feel the tension building as my own body ignites under his touch. I can't help but swallow, my throat thick with desire as I lean into the cool hand. 

"Sounds like a 'you' problem, baby. You're just so damn tall. Are you just going to stand there or are you going to ravage me?"

"Fuckin' hell, Nic." Verando exhaled, yanking me up onto his body, pinning me against the door frame as his lips melted against mine. I grip his neck, climbing his body to hook my legs over his waist. I can feel how hard he is against my ass, glancing up into the mirror behind us to see his perfectly sculpted back as my fingers dig into his shoulders and neck. "You smell so good."

"It's a pretty incredible design flaw." I retort, gasping as he kisses my neck, "You're driving me crazy, I don't want any foreplay, I just want you to take me."

Chuckling, breathless, he attempts to clear his head and come to his senses but I can't have that.

 Climbing off of him, I glare up at him in retaliation, "I can't have you thinking rationally, Mr.Mercer."

"Trust me, no part of me is rational when you're involved." Verando murmurs, shivering as I attack his chest with my mouth, licking and sucking one of those studded nipples as I begin to undo my pants and shimmy out of them with a swivel of my hips. Without wanting to reveal too much to him, I kneel before him, making sure to slip my shirt up so he can get a good view of the thong plunging between my cheeks as I get on my knees. Grasping his manhood in my hand, I run my tongue slowly up to the tip. 

His hand fists in my hair, jerking my head back with a low curse. "What're you wearing?"

"You like it?" I murmur, licking my upper lip as I nuzzle against his cock, "I want you out of your mind. I can't have you worrying about me, I can't think about anything else but this-" I take him into my mouth, sucking hard as he inhales against my torment. Swallowing as much of him as I can, I smirk against the shudder he responds with. 

"Quite the talker for someone who can barely fit me in their mouth, yet you want no foreplay?"

I narrow my eyes at him, sucking hard, enjoying the groan I produce from his lips. Verando bucks his hips against me, knotting his fist in my hair, using my mouth for his pleasure. I can hardly breathe before he releases me, so close, and yet still too aware for my liking. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, standing to quickly turn my back to him, hooking my thumbs into the garter belt hovering around my waist over my thong. 

My legs were clad in long, sheer, dark stockings, the straps kept them up on my thighs, but the thong left little to the imagination. 

Observing me, a predator watching his prey, I stride to the bed and glance over my shoulder as I make sure to sway my hips before slowly bending over, waggling my ass at him in a torturous swivel. I was out of my mind, impossibly hard, if he got too close he would see that my legs threatened to tremble with how badly I wanted him. 

But I wanted all of him, I'd seen the box of condoms, I knew what he was thinking and I wasn't ready to accept defeat. 

"Let's see where else you fit?" I tease, catching my lip in my teeth as I feel him behind me, those large hands resting on my hips as he grinds the hard length against me. "I want you so bad I can't stand it."

"Is that because you're buzzed or is it the cuff talking?" He murmurs, hissing through his teeth as I ram my hips desperately back against him. "I want to wear a condom."

"If you put on a rubber, you're not getting anywhere near me." I manage, swaying back and forth, whimpering as he lifts my hips to slip his cock between my tightly pressed thighs. "You know the release is my favorite part, I love feeling you spill yourself inside of me. You'd rob me of something so... hot?" 

His hand grips under my throat, yanking me back against him as he snarls against my shoulder. "You're out of your damn mind."

"I want you so badly," I whisper, clinging to any bit of him I can manage, stretched onto my tiptoes. "Now shut up and take me, baby. "