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Authors: Bailey Bradford

BOOK: Sullivan (Leopard's Spots 7)
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No, they’d name it after the doctor who figured out what it was, so dying from exotic cooties was out. “No way am I keeling over and being forgotten all because some doctor wants to make a name for herself. Himself. Whatever,” Sully grumbled, avoiding the spot as he walked across the tiny living space to the kitchen. It wasn’t really much of a kitchen—

surprise, surprise. The whole place is a dump! Mom’s gonna freak if she comes out.

The solitary cabinet hanging on the kitchen wall was crooked, the door to it gaping from two loose hinges. The tile floor was sticky under his feet, and the refrigerator made enough racket to keep him up at night.

But—it was his apartment, and Sully found himself grinning like an idiot despite the condition of the place. He’d been terrified, in a way, of moving from home and living by himself. The idea of a roommate terrified him more, so he’d hunted down a place he could afford on his own. If it was a crappy place, oh well. It was still his—at least until the lease was up, or the building condemned.

Sully gave in and whooped, throwing a fist in the air. His knuckles grazed the ceiling and whoever lived above him hollered and stomped on their floor. “Shut the fuck up, moron!”

“Huh. I thought I left Wes at home,” Sully whispered. He left the kitchen and checked the miniscule bathroom and bedroom. He set his duffle on the closet shelf then went back outside for the rest of his luggage. He had a small fund for furnishing the place, and there were gift cards from family members, too. The apartment would never be fancy by any means, but he’d have a bed, or maybe a futon to sleep on. Probably whatever was higher up off the floor and harder for bugs to climb into.
Although roaches can fly.

“So, bug spray, bug spray, something to sleep on, a cheap dresser or whatever, food, bug spray, towels, bug spray,” Sully muttered, “and maybe a few mouse traps.” He brought in the rest of his things, glad he’d got a ground floor apartment. He might regret it later, especially considering the potential for bitchiness his upstairs neighbour had, but it wasn’t like Sully had to live there forever.

Really, considering the shape of the apartment, he could probably get out of the lease he’d signed, but it was close to the downtown UTSA campus, and Sully could walk to college if he wanted to. If he dared, rather. The area looked a bit more dangerous than he’d thought it would considering the college was right there.

It was a good thing he’d called his folks before actually seeing the apartment, when he’d first got the keys from the manager. That way, at least he hadn’t lied to his mom about the state of the place. Sully knew he was going to have to do some thorough cleaning before he talked to her again. Renting a carpet cleaner would probably be a good idea, too.

Sully set out with a mental list of errands, and hoped he didn’t get too lost. His parents had bought him a GPS unit that worked fairly well. He was grinning fit to be crowned king when he got in his car and started off on another leg of his adventure of growing up and being independent.

An hour and a half later, he wasn’t so happy. He was soaked in sweat—why the hell hadn’t anyone told him San Antonio was freaking humid and so
hot
? It was over a hundred and six out, and with the excessive moisture in the air, it was about like trying to breathe in sludge. Sully’s chest felt heavy with the moisture. He wasn’t used to it at all. The sudden pang for the fresh mountain air of home made his eyes sting.

No, that was probably the sweat running over his brow and into his eyes. Sully had never been so hot in his life, and his car was having the same problem. The needle was in the orange range and dangerously close to the H on the temperature gauge. He’d had to pull over in a seedy-looking gas station lot to sit and wait for his car to cool. He couldn’t take the lid off the radiator cap when it was scorching and bubbling liquid in there. He wasn’t the best mechanic in the world—okay, he wasn’t a mechanic at all—but he did know the basics, and he had common sense most of the time.

Which was why he was sitting in his car sweating buckets instead of hanging around in the gas station. There was graffiti all over the building, and the people coming and going looked intimidating, not because of any one thing, just because Sully was in a city he wasn’t familiar with and had no one to count on here, other than himself.

One younger man, probably close to Sully’s age, was looking at him, almost studying him, Sully thought. Sully was trying not to gawp back at the man, because he was—well, he was a sexy little stud, that was all there was to it. Golden tanned skin, dark hair and dark eyes—he made Sully want. Of course, Sully
wanted
a lot, but he’d never had the nerve to approach a guy. He wasn’t about to change that now.

So when the handsome man finally began to walk towards his car, Sully almost panicked. His heart was beating so hard he was dizzy, his head feeling swimmy, as he watched the way those lean hips rolled with the stranger’s steps.

Sully only realised he’d been staring right at those hips the whole time when they were only inches from his nose. He burnt hotter with embarrassment at having been so obvious.

The guy was going to think he’d been staring at his dick, but Sully hadn’t even looked there, as mesmerised as he’d been by the sensual walk.

Dragging his gaze up was almost painful, he was so mortified. Still, Sully forced himself to look at the man’s face, and the dark eyes lit with a knowledge of the stranger’s sexual attraction.

“Hey, sweetie, you look like you could use a hand.” Sully gulped and wished he wasn’t a stinky, wet idiot. “Uh. My car overheated.”

“Yeah, sweetie, I figured as much.” The stranger bent until he was peering in the rolled-down window. Those dark eyes swept over Sully and something much like approval flitted through them. “It’s hotter’n hell out here.” He flicked a glance down at Sully’s crotch, let it linger there as he went on. “I’m thinking it’ll be a good while before your engine cools down.

We could walk over to my place and get to know each other, if you want.” How did the guy deliver that offer so casually? Sully choked just trying to breathe, and ended up coughing and spluttering like a complete social idiot.

Then the sexy stranger made Sully’s humiliation complete. “Aw, you’re a virgin, huh?

Eh. I don’t really do virgins.”

Sully would have welcomed a heart attack, or a bolt of lightning. He wasn’t picky about the method, as long as he could just escape from his own life right then.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetie, it is. I’m Mando.”

Sully stopped trying to strip his throat raw with the coughing and sputtering long enough to wipe at his eyes. He had sweat burning them, and it wasn’t until Mando’s small, warm,
dry
hand was in his that Sully realised his palms were clammy. “S-sorry,” he said as Mando gave him a kind look. “Uh, I’m Sully. Sullivan, but—uh, just Sully.”

“Sully, like that cute monster in the cool movie.” Sully’s panic threatened to swamp him all over again until it dawned on him Mando didn’t mean Sully was a monster—he didn’t know Sully was a shifter. His relief helped loosen his tongue. “Oh, yeah. The furry blue one.” Mando beamed at him and bounced on his toes. “And the purple spots, don’t forget those!”

Mando suddenly seemed incredibly young to Sully, and he was relieved to find his attraction for the man dimming rapidly. Another part of him was squicked out because Mando definitely had to be a few years younger than him, at least, yet he obviously had a lot of sexual experience. No one could exude such confidence, or make such bold offers, if they weren’t used to doing so. At least, Sully didn’t think they would.

“That’s my favourite movie,” Mando said, still sounding so young and happy, not sexy at all. “I always wanted my own big, fuzzy monster to cuddle up with.” Mando batted long lashes at some spot above his head. “But of course, I don’t want it to be all G-rated, ya know.

Gotta have a little hustle in the bustle going on.” Sully waited for Mando to look at him before asking, “What, exactly, does hustle in the bustle mean? I’ve heard of hustling and bustling, like, hurrying around all over, but never hustle in the bustle.”

Mando flapped a hand at him and sighed as if having to explain himself were tedious.

“Please. Keep up with me here. A bustle was used
eons
ago to make a woman’s dress pouf out in the back. Hid all those flat asses or whatever, who cares what their purpose was! Just, go with it, will you? Jeez, I mean I want to fuck—”

“I got it,” Sully yelped, not wanting to hear anymore. “How old are you?” Mando blinked then smirked as he leant down and purred, “How old do you think I am, sweetie?”

“Cut it out.” Sully didn’t like being made fun of, and whether Mando meant to or not, he was mocking Sully. Mando’s scent rolled through the window on the breeze and Sully sniffed before he realised what he was doing. Mando smelt like hunger, and something else, a bitter, used scent that was familiar because Sully’s sheets tended to smell like that. “Are you a prostitute?” Sully blurted out, and barely ducked the slap Mando aimed at his cheek.

“Hey! I’m sorry!” He was an idiot!

“Just fuck you, man!” Mando sounded like he was crying, and while Sully had no interest in the man sexually, he owed Mando an apology—even if he suspected he was right.

But the seatbelt stuck and with his sweaty palms it took entirely too long to get free of the thing. When he looked for Mando, he was nowhere to be found.

Sully considered getting out and tracking him, but the scents of the city were wreaking havoc on his sinuses. He wasn’t sure he could even sort out Mando’s smell.

There was a great lesson in thinking before he spoke. Sully felt like shit for having been such a rude asshole, but it was done and all he could do was apologise if he ever saw Mando again. It was no wonder his car was acting up. Karma was operating in fast forward. She’d known he was going to deserve to swelter in the heat.

Sully got out and locked the car. He went into the gas station and was surprised that the inside of it was relatively neat. Then he had a deep thought about how it was the inside that mattered, much like it did with a person, and he could have sworn he shrank two sizes in shame.

“Saw you out there with Mando panting over you.” Sully turned and looked at the short, orange-haired man who had come up behind him.

The bad dye job turned him from moderately attractive to not. Sully scolded himself internally for the judgement, but there was something almost cruel in the man’s expression.

“Don’t waste your time on that
puto
. He fuck anyone for a few bucks.” Sully curled his lip at that, because he was pretty sure the orange-haired guy wasn’t any better. In fact, at least Mando was funny and not mean.

“I’m more picky than he is.” Orange-hair reached out like he was going to touch Sully’s chest and Sully almost brained himself on the soda cooler trying to get away from that hand.

“Don’t,” he growled, and he batted aside a second attempt to touch him. “I said don’t.” Orange-hair narrowed his eyes and licked his lips as he tried to press himself against Sully. “Oh, I like the growly ones. You wanna spank me, daddy?”

“Get off him, you sleazy STD-sharing jerk!” Mando sprinted down the aisle and Sully pushed his would-be groper aside, putting himself between the two smaller men before a fight broke out. “I’ll rip your balls off, Dukey!”

“At least I have balls, little boy,” came the reply from Dukey. “Yours haven’t even dropped yet and already your ass—”

“Shut up,” Sully snarled, turning on Dukey and fisting a hand in his dirty T-shirt.

Dukey’s eyes went wide with fear, and he held his hands up as if warding Sully off. Sully realised he was growling, a low, steady thrumming that started deep in his chest and poured out his throat.

“Let me go,” Dukey said, his voice cracking as the scent of his fear turned the air bitter.

“You leave Mando alone,” Sully told him, wanting to shake Dukey so bad his biceps burned with the force of his restraint. “I mean it.” He released Dukey, who scuttled around him and shoved Mando hard, knocking him into a stand that held rows of chips. A few of the bags fell but Mando didn’t, instead pivoting on his heel, cursing.

Sully caught him by the nape before he could run away again. “Cut it out, kid.” Mando turned and glared at him. “Kid, whore—make up your mind.” Sully’s cheeks burned but he didn’t release Mando. “I am really sorry. I just—”

“Do I need to call the police, Mando?”

“No,” Mando said as Sully glanced at the clerk. Mando crossed his arms over his chest and popped his lower lip out. “I don’t know why you let that scumbag hang around, Chet.

He’s gross.”

The clerk shrugged and waved at the floor. “Pick up your mess, and quit soliciting in my store. That includes the parking lot. Tell Dukey, too. I better not find out either of you are using the bathroom for tricks again.”

Sully felt Mando tense, felt his skin go hot where Sully’s fingers touched it. He tightened his hold on the younger man. He’d been raised up to help those who needed it, and he had a feeling Mando definitely needed it.

“Come on.” He steered Mando with his grip. Mando didn’t fight him, and when they stepped outside, Sully saw tears gleaming on Mando’s cheeks. “Aw, don’t do that. I don’t know how to handle that.” Shit, he’d just made it all about him. “I mean, is there anyone I can call for you?”

Mando’s laughter sounded entirely too bitter to be coming from someone so young.

“No. Would I be hooking if there was?”

Sully studied Mando, trying to read his dark eyes as Mando looked unwaveringly at him. Was he being played? Was this some scam, some scheme to get his money or his stuff?

Would he have to fight off people to keep from being killed and dumped somewhere, if he tried to help Mando?

“What are you doing?” Mando asked him.

Sully ran the question over in his mind. “About?” Mando huffed and propped a hand on his hip. “Now. What are you doing now, Sully?

Why are you still holding on to me like I’m some wayward child? And don’t tell me it’s because I am, because I’m not your child. That’s a gross fetish I don’t play.”

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