Gannon Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (2 page)

In an effort to project an attitude of gentle kindness, McBride smiled up at the thrall. “I’m Sheriff McBride.” Sadly, that only made him quiver more and increased the pace of his lip chewing.

“His name is Alden, but once you own him, you’re free to change it to whatever will suit.”

“Alden is fine. It fits him.” McBride looked at the yellow collar but saw no corresponding price on the sandwich board.

“Oh, it’s half the cost of pink. I so rarely get damaged stock that I don’t list the price. He comes with all the same extras that came with the pink you got yesterday.”

McBride couldn’t help but reconsider purchasing the thrall. His price was right, and the issue of his hearing wasn’t that big of a deal. The brothers would all have to learn to work with him, but maybe that would be good for them. For a brief second, McBride thought of Alden in Caleb’s arms. The image rankled. Not because he thought Caleb would hurt the young man, but because McBride didn’t want anyone in Caleb’s arms.

Dismissing that idea, because eventually McBride was going to have to buy Caleb a mate, he turned to the merchant. “I’ll take him.”

Alden’s eyes widened. Clearly, he’d understood what McBride had just said, but he seemed stunned that he’d been bought. Or maybe, like yesterday, he thought McBride was buying him for himself. It was illegal, but that wouldn’t stop some unscrupulous country gentryman from doing it. McBride was finding out that given the remote nature of the huge farms in the county, the men living on them seemed to do whatever they pleased regardless of law, custom, or anything else.

“I’m buying you for one of my slammers.”

Alden nodded, and his lip chewing eased up just a bit.

“Are you afraid of large men?”

Alden looked away and then back, but he didn’t nod or shake his head. Perhaps he wasn’t sure what McBride was asking him. Once McBride placed his thumb stamp on the credit voucher, it no longer mattered. Alden was now his. McBride put the rectal dilator and grease pellets into his pouch, climbed on top of his
dressiter
, and then offered out his hand to Alden.

For a long moment, the young man peered up at him. He then looked back at the merchant, who was quickly taking all his gear down and packing it into his carriage. And then, Alden looked around as if he would run. McBride looked around, too. For miles, there was nothing but open prairie. The platform was at the crossroads of four towns, but that set it out in the middle of nowhere. Should Alden choose to run, he would only exhaust himself and annoy his new master. McBride had no wish to hunt the man down.

McBride waited for Alden to look up at him. “I promise I won’t hurt you.” McBride again offered out his hand.

Pressing his lips together, Alden obviously realized he had nowhere else to go. Tentatively, he lifted up his hand and clasped McBride’s.

Pulling him up onto the six-legged beast took hardly any effort at all, but that was no wonder considering how big McBride was in comparison to Alden. He outweighed him by twice his body weight. When Alden settled into the saddle and his bare buttocks pressed into McBride’s bulge, he strained forward.

“I said I’m not—” McBride cut himself off. He tapped Alden on the shoulder, but he refused to turn around. Sighing, McBride gave up on trying to reassure his newest thrall. He clicked and slapped the reins, causing the beast to move forward. As strange as the
dressiter
looked, it offered an amazingly smooth ride. Hardly a bump upset them as they rode in silence.

All the way back to the farm, Alden kept his shoulders hunched over as he tried to pull away from McBride’s cock. What was so sad was that McBride wasn’t even hard. After the spectacular climax he’d had with Caleb the other morning, he figured he could probably go another week before he had to do something about his raging hormones. Then again, just thinking about Caleb aroused him. He knew he had to get his mind off Caleb and onto something else, or he was going to get hard and Alden would become completely unhinged.

As he rode with the morning sun warming his back, he thought of how dark those initial days had been when the virus first swept the planet. Not all men became blood drinkers, but many did. The separation of who did and didn’t actually helped the Genetics Board define the classes. At the top of the food chain was the landed gentrymen, who needed blood daily. Landed gentrymen were by nature extremely alpha. They were direct clones, chosen because they were big, strong, and intelligent. Next were the owned men known as slammers. They occasionally craved blood, but usually only as a part of their need to mate. Slammers were considered intellectually inferior to the upper class because they were crafted to be servants to them, but McBride didn’t think they were any less smart. At the very bottom were the thralls, who didn’t drink blood at all and were deliberately bred to be small and submissive. Sometimes the thralls had sharper intellect than the slammers, but they were wise enough to keep their brains hidden around their brawnier counterparts.

McBride was of the highest class. He was one of the few landed gentrymen. His fathers stretching back for generations had all owned vast tracts of land that were used to grow
tallos
. The fibrous plant was used for fabrics, but what made it special was that the plants grew in harsh conditions. Dry, claylike soil that would kill most plants allowed the
tallos
to thrive.

As the neat rows of
tallos
went by, McBride considered which brother would be best suited to Alden. Each of them flitted through his mind, and he rejected each in turn. Alden would need a brother who could be patient and learn to work with him, but the only brother that McBride thought could handle that was Bailey. Unfortunately, Bailey had gotten the first thrall, so McBride was going to have to pick another brother and train him in not only the ways of a man with his mate, but also how to even communicate with his mate.

A long sigh escaped him and ruffled the back of Alden’s hair. It was black as pitch but very fine and light textured. It was longer on top and yet shaved upward in the back, exposing his neck, which was probably the appeal of the haircut. Alden certainly had a long, fine neck. Just looking caused McBride’s teeth to tingle. He would never bite him, but as a blood drinker, McBride could appreciate the aesthetics of a fine neck. The yellow collar didn’t match his skin tone, but rather clashed with it. That was okay. Whichever brother McBride gave him to would put a new collar on him to show ownership.

Sadly, that only reminded McBride that he would have to explain to another one of the Morgan brothers that he wouldn’t be allowed to go into town to outfit his new mate. Until he figured out what had happened at the Larsden place, he wasn’t going to be letting anyone go into the heart of Woven Spire and possibly bring back a blood-borne disease. Although, to be fair, he had no idea if that was what they were dealing with or not, but until he had a handle on what was going on, no one was going anywhere. The only reason he’d bought a thrall was because there was simply no way an untouched blood bearer could carry any disease. McBride had checked Alden thoroughly for marks, including indications that he’d been fed from. Just as the merchant had promised, young Alden was clean.

As they came down the main road into the farm, the street split, with one side heading toward the big house where McBride lived, and the other side leading into a cul-de-sac where the seven brothers’ houses were arranged. Around in a semicircle the houses went in order of age with Bailey, the youngest, at one end and Caleb, the oldest, at the other.

And that gave McBride his answer to who would get Alden. Since he had no control over whether the thrall and his slammer would get along, he decided that he would simply let fate make the choice. Since the first thrall yesterday had gone to Bailey, McBride would give Alden to the second brother and continue on up until he got one for Caleb.

Again, the idea of Caleb with another man caused a tight feeling across McBride’s belly. Before, he’d been concerned about Caleb injuring the thrall he picked out for him, but that wasn’t his issue now. No, McBride had a whole new problem when it came to Caleb and the notion of pairing him with a mate.

As if he’d summoned him, Caleb stepped out from the path between two of the houses, clearly intent on going to his own house at the far end of the circle. He stopped when he saw McBride.

For once, Caleb didn’t smirk or make a rude hand gesture or do anything that McBride could consider an affront. Instead, he simply nodded his head and moved over to his home. Stunned by his sharp change in behavior, McBride wasn’t too sure what to make of his far more submissive ways. It wasn’t like Caleb at all. Resistant, angry, aggressive—those were all the hallmarks of Caleb’s behavior. This new and far more subservient man was somewhat annoying. McBride felt like slapping himself. He didn’t like Caleb when he bucked his authority, but he didn’t like him kowtowing to it, either. Frankly, McBride just didn’t think he was ever going to be happy with Caleb.

“Unless I can have him all to myself.”

As soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, McBride felt a surge of adrenalin rush over his body. A landed gentryman did not fall for a slammer. Worse, he certainly didn’t admit it to anyone. And then he remembered that Alden was deaf. Relief made him sag in the saddle. But his slip showed him that he simply couldn’t trust himself anywhere near Caleb. Even thinking about him was dangerous.

Again, Caleb appeared as if summoned.

Caleb had unzipped his
tallos
-picking jumpsuit and bunched the upper portion around his waist. His bronzed chest was lightly sweaty, making him gleam under the late-morning sun. He’d pulled his hair back off his face, which harshened his features, but then he flashed the smallest smile at McBride.

Used to his smirks and derision, McBride found this secretive smile was both alluring and infuriating. What they’d done together yesterday morning was wrong. There simply wasn’t another word for it. Mixing blood and sex was a dangerous combination. The fact that both of them had gotten off in spectacular eruptions didn’t lessen the shame that clung to McBride. Yes, the release had felt incredible, but as soon as he’d stopped spurting and his heart rate began to fall back to normal, the guilt had settled in. Caleb’s shyly sweet grin only reminded McBride that the man now had a powerful secret over him. It was unlikely anyone would believe Caleb, but McBride knew the truth and that was bad enough.

“Who’s he for?” Caleb asked, nodding to Alden.

“Gannon.” McBride stopped the
dressiter
and then watched as Caleb extended his hand to help Alden down.

Rather than strain forward as he had the entire way, Alden now retreated from Caleb by pressing himself forcefully into McBride. His tiny body only highlighted how good Caleb’s massive form had felt when they’d been close.

“I’m only trying to help you down.” Caleb thrust his hand a little closer, but this only made Alden retreat more fully.

“He’s deaf.”

“Oh.” Caleb withdrew his hand. “How about I help you down?” Now Caleb offered his hand out to McBride. It was the same hand that had been wrapped around McBride’s cock only twenty-four hours ago.

What would stay in McBride’s mind and drive him to total distraction was the luscious taste of Caleb’s blood. Long before he realized he had issues with him, McBride had always favored the eldest Morgan. There was something so rich about his flavor. Moreover, when McBride drank from him, Caleb often masturbated. Since McBride preferred drinking from his neck as he stood behind the seated Caleb, he’d been able to watch his massive hand fisting his thick prick. Seeing his release while drinking his blood cemented his unnatural lust. It hadn’t happened with any of the other brothers, but it was the only thing that McBride could latch on to and blame.

But I will find a way to be free of him
. McBride was determined to keep his own life within the limits of the law. He had recently found out his father and his father’s companion had indulged in forbidden acts. McBride vowed not to follow in those particular footsteps. The best way to do so was to find himself a companion. But that was easier said than done. As a member of the upper class, he could only align himself with men of his same status. Given how small the population of Woven Spire was, he didn’t have a lot to choose from.

“I’m fine.” McBride slid from the beast. He wasn’t sure, but he thought Caleb said that he was indeed fine, but McBride chose to ignore him if he had spoken. Once on the ground, he extended his hand to Alden, who shook his head and clung to the saddle. “You’re not for him.”

Alden looked at Caleb then back at McBride.

“Not him. Another brother.”

“Yeah, you’re too scrawny for me.” Caleb focused his dangerous green eyes on McBride. “I like them big, hairy, and hung.”

“Go away, Caleb. Or better yet, be of use and go get Gannon.”

“Yes, master.” Caleb spun on his heel and walked back into the field. As he moved to where the other brothers were picking, he pulled the top half of his jumpsuit back up. Even a man as strong as Caleb couldn’t pick
tallos
without the suit. The bulbs of the plant had a tough outer shell covered in barbs. Ironically, the fibers inside the bulb were extremely delicate. It took a gentle touch to grasp and twist the bulb off the plant without damaging the interior. Once they were picked, the bulbs were stripped in a machine, but they had to be delivered in the full, puffy state. Despite his brutish appearance, Caleb was one of the best and fastest pickers.