An Erie Operetta Read Online Free Page B

his. I was so besotted with my lover that I stumbled over Eddie’s polished black shoe as I went around the table. Maybe if my eyes were on my clumsy feet instead of on Mikel...
    “You cut a fine figure, Templeton,” Mikel said as I took my seat. My sight was still glued to the width of his shoulders beneath that incredible jacket. “Mrs. Dunrite informs me that we’re having grilled chicken with a side of avocado corn chowder.”
    “I thought we were dining light,” I said as I snapped my napkin open.
    “Well, it is only one chicken,” Mikel said with a saucy wink. My prick began to thicken. I quickly laid my napkin over my burgeoning erection. Mikel, knowing what the pink in my cheeks meant, ignored the slip of napkin etiquette -- hosts open their napkins first, according to the old ways -- then laid his own napkin over his lap. “We have an hour to dine. The ferry will be at the dock at precisely seven.”
    The kitchen staff, which consisted of Mrs. Dunrite and a slim girl named Eru, who also bore the mark of the elf, hustled out of the kitchen. Rugby stood beside the roaring fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, ready to assist in serving should he be needed. He never was. I smiled at the short, squat cook. Mrs. Dunrite was a rarity among the rare, a Halfling that carried dwarven blood. When standing, her ginger head reached my chest. When she spoke to Mikel her nose brushed his navel. Her cheeks were round and red, her eyes brilliant green pools, her arms and waist thick, and her temper rumored to rival that of Wondak the Wild, a famous dwarven berserker warrior.
    Eru hustled around the table, her black eyes downcast. Both women wore sober brown dresses with white aprons. Neither wore shoes. That might upset some but when you’re eating with werewolves, shoes are the least of one’s concerns. The chicken was placed in the middle of the table. Eru jerked her slim arm back when Dave and Eddie lunged at the meat. Mikel cleared his throat. Rugby gasped. Both lumbering males in black paused mid-pounce to stare blankly at their Alpha.
    “Please sit down,” Mikel said. His men sat like well-heeled Pugs. “Have you forgotten to offer thanks to Grathbrok?”
    The lycans mumbled something paltry. Mikel never partook unless the old gods had been honored. He firmly believed that paying homage to Grathbrok, the first man-wolf, would in turn bring the blessing of Fenris.
    I peeked over at the cook. She had her head bowed but did not murmur along with the lycan prayer to the Norse gods. What gods did her people pray to? I resolved to learn more about the dwarves, for I knew next to nothing about them.
    “So, Templeton, are you rested enough to stay awake during the performance?” Mikel asked after the prayer. Eru was serving the soup. Mrs. Dunrite stood in the corner beside a huge walnut server, her eyes always moving over the food as well as the server.
    “Oh ha,” I quipped, nudging Mikel’s knee with mine. His smile made my dick happy. And hard. Those two things seem to go hand-in-hand. “Tell me about the ferry.”
    “No, I don’t think I will. I’d rather see your face.” Mikel grinned wide enough to show a bit of fang. “Soup spoons please, gentlemen.”
    Eddie and Dave exhaled strongly enough to ruffle Eru’s hair as she placed a basket of freshly baked wheat rolls to the table. Soup bowls returned to their plates. The sound of spoons mixed with loud slurps soon filled the dining room. Eru hustled about, removing empty bowls, relighting candles that would blow out on the twin candelabras on the table, and refilling goblets with water or wine. The chicken was sliced by Mrs. Dunrite. The meal progressed pleasantly, finishing with a light dessert of key lime tarts.
    I was stuffed when we pushed away from the table. The lycans were grumbling about having a snack that was called dinner.
    “That was a wonderful meal,” I said to Mrs. Dunrite.
    “Thanks be upon you, Master Reed.” She curtsied,