“Right,” Dante muttered and stood to pull his pants up, then headed for the door, muttering, “I shall be back directly.”
Mary lay back on the bed with a sigh. If someone had told her that birth control would be an issue for her at sixty-two, she would have laughed in their face. “Who knew?” she muttered with disgust.
Sixteen
Dante hurried up the hall and then jogged downstairs, wracking his brain for a way to get condoms. Buying them was the obvious answer, but while it was only 7:30 in the evening and most stores would be open right now, the Enforcer House was in the country, a good fifteen minutes from the nearest store. He really didn’t want to wait that long to get back to Mary.
Perhaps one of the men would have condoms, he thought and grimaced even as the possibility struck him. That just wasn’t likely. Certainly Russell and Francis wouldn’t have them. And Mortimer and his life mate Samantha were apparently hoping to get pregnant, so they wouldn’t have them. Hell, most immortals wouldn’t. They knew all they had to do to guard against pregnancy was not overindulge in blood. But Mary wasn’t willing to take that chance because she had to take in so much blood just now. He understood, but it was frustrating as hell.
Maybe Mortimer kept condoms on hand for guests who stayed at the Enforcer House, Dante thought suddenly. The man had recently taken to ensuring they had most things an unexpected guest might need: everything from clothes in various sizes to shoes, extra vehicles—even brand-new toothbrushes and toothpaste still in their packaging. Condoms might also be on that list, Dante thought hopefully, as he stepped off the stairs and turned into the kitchen.
He was hoping to find Mortimer in there, since that was where the head of the enforcers had been when Dante had gone upstairs. However, he wasn’t, and the first person he ran into on his quest for condoms was Mortimer’s wife, Samantha. The sight of her made him pause abruptly several feet into the room.
“Oh, hello, Dante,” the slender woman said with a smile when she glanced up from the pot she was stirring and spotted him. “How is Mary? Is she hungry? I made some soup.”
“Er . . . no,” Dante murmured, backing toward the doorway. When her eyebrows went up at his strange behavior, he added, “I was looking for Mortimer.”
“He, Bricker, and Lucian went into his study,” she said, and then added, “I’m sure they won’t mind you interrupting. Although if there’s something you need that I can help with—”
“No!” Dante barked with dismay, and then forced a smile and said more calmly, “Thank you, but it is better I talk to Mortimer.”
“Okay,” Samantha said easily, glancing down into the pot she was stirring. But as he left the room he could have sworn he heard her murmur, “No glove, no love, huh?”
Assuring himself that he must have misheard her, Dante hurried along the hall toward Mortimer’s study. He could hear them talking before he reached the door, but was distracted enough he didn’t bother really listening. He also didn’t wait for a response after knocking at the door, but simply opened it and walked in.
Mortimer, Lucian, and Bricker were all there, as Samantha had said. They were standing around Mortimer’s desk, looking at a map of some kind. All three glanced up with mild curiosity at his entrance.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Dante muttered and then focused on Mortimer and began, “I just wanted to ask if you have gloves.”
“Gloves?” Mortimer asked with surprise. “Sure. There should be some—”
“Oh, sorry, not gloves,” Dante said with a frown, realizing what he’d said. His mind must still have been on what he’d thought he heard Samantha say.
“He means condoms,” Bricker said with amusement, apparently reading his mind where Mortimer obviously hadn’t. Grinning, the young hunter said, “No unwrapped stags between Mary’s legs, huh?”
“What?” Dante asked, his voice choked with shock.
“She wants you to cuff your carrot, before you share it?” Bricker suggested and when Dante just stared at him blankly, he added, “You have to sock that wanger before you bang her?”
“Bricker,” Mortimer said with exasperation.
But Justin just added, “Got no protection? Can’t use your erection?”
“The internet?” Lucian asked dryly.
Pausing, Justin Bricker grinned at the man and said, “Yeah. They have loads of sayings: hide old Harry, then take her cherry. Wrap that pickle, then slip her a tickle. If you can’t shield your rocket, leave it in your pocket. Don’t make a mistake; cover your snake. Cover your stump before you hump. Don’t be a fool—”
“Truly, Justin,” Lucian interrupted grimly. “The subject of your internet searches really worries me sometimes.”
“What?” Bricker asked with surprise. “Why?”
“The fact that you have to even ask me that question also worries me,” Lucian said dryly. “First cocks, now condoms. What is next?”
“Well, I did come across this site that has—”