The Dead (The Thaumaturge Series Book 1) (22 page)

“I don't really want to talk about it,” I said. Something registered on his face that might have been annoyance or disappointment, but he covered it quickly with a smile. It was enough to make me suspicious though.

“Okay,” he said. “But you use it to help people? Like that girl?”

“Yeah, kinda. I mean, it's not like an official business, but yeah, people come to me when they need help and if I can, I take care of it.”

“How many have you done?”

“About twenty.”

“What's your most memorable one?”

I snorted. He didn't need to know that I spent half my time trying to forget what I had seen. “You were pretty memorable,” I said, trying to smile.

“Why?”

“Well,” I shifted on the couch, putting some distance between us. “You didn't go far.”

He smiled back and I pushed away my discomfort, trying not to think about his soul hovering in the twinkling lights, bobbing there mournfully.

'You were still so close . . .” I said softly.

“I'm close now,” he replied. His fingers brushed the back of my neck and I shivered. A wave of arousal uncurled down in my crotch and rolled up into my stomach.

He leaned in, his eyes very intent on me.

“Don't,” I said helplessly, just before his lips touched mine.

“Why?”

“I - I don't know.” I couldn't think of any reason not to, actually, and a dozen reasons why it didn't matter at all. Most resounding, of course, was that I wanted to, and wasn't that the damnedest thing? I wanted to and I
could
.

He waited a beat to see if I had any more protests, but I was done talking and he leaned in a little more, closing the distance between us just enough for our lips to touch. There was only the slightest pressure, his mouth gentle and soft against mine, and when he ended the first kiss, I was the one who started the second.

That one started soft, too, but one of us opened his mouth, and then our tongues melted together. “Oh, fuck,” I moaned and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him hard against me. Maybe too hard; he wriggled a bit and I released him, but he was just trying to squirm out of his shirt.

A voice in my head screamed, panicked at the sight of him, all lean and tight and covered with downy dark hair. I was sick of it, though, sick of listening to those voices in my head and I thought that maybe there were other things to consider, like how his bare arms felt when they slid around my neck. Or how he tasted right underneath his ears, as I licked my way down his neck and fastened my mouth on the tender spot between his neck and his shoulder.

“Oh, God,” he moaned, throwing his head back and letting me suck harder, nipping a little. He was squirming around again, nudging at my legs. It was almost annoying, how he wouldn't just stay still and fucking commit, but then he was kneeling up on my couch, pushing me back hard against the cushions and straddling me. All complaints went straight out of my head and I wanted to thank God and his angels and whatever weird witch God Marcus worshipped for the opportunity to have this gorgeous man wrap his legs around me.

We kissed again, our mouths clumsily joined, and I grazed my hands up and down his ribs, feeling lean muscle and smooth skin and wanted to taste it, too. It was fascinating, to see the paleness of my hands against the darkness of his skin. I dug my fingers in a little, just to watch him shiver. I wrapped one arm around his waist and leaned him back, ducking my head down to kiss at his hard brown nipples and he hissed with pleasure, thrusting his hips hard against my stomach. My erection was trapped firmly beneath his ass, and I bucked upwards in response, making him moan again.

“Is this okay?” he panted, his voice coming from somewhere above my head.

“Huh?” I didn't take my mouth away from his chest, my attention focused entirely on the ripples of muscle right underneath his breastbone, and the springy hair that ran down the center of his torso.

He ground his ass down into my lap in response, his hands tightening on my arms. That got my attention, and I looked up at him, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure soaking my brain.

“Is this all right?” he asked softly, and his eyes were concerned. He canted forward, relieving a bit of the pressure on my hard-on, and then pressed down again, making me see stars. “Say you want to.”

“I –” I swallowed hard, my mouth thick with spit. .”You’re not – the spell?”

“No!” he pulled back abruptly, bending himself in half so that he could look into my face. “No, I wouldn’t. I would never.”

“But you did,” I mumbled, my brain still soggy, but coming around. He looked aghast, but I reached up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss him again.

“I want to,” I told him gently. “I do.”

“Then let me...” I felt his fingers skate up the inseam of my jeans, and then he pressed the heel of his hand against my crotch. I groaned, wiggling a little to give him more room.

He sat up on his knees, and reached between to tug at the hem of my shirt. It was warm in the trailer, but I shivered when he skinned it off over my head. I had never been fully naked with anyone other Leo, and I spared a moment to worry about my extremely pale skin, the color of uncooked chicken, and my scrawniness, before he leaned in again and took my bottom lip between his. Whatever insecurities I had went right out the window then, because the next thing I felt was his hand, very lightly snaking down my pants and coming to rest right on top of my erection.

I panted out some mushy attempts at words, probably along the lines of “more please more” and he grinned, curling his fingers around my cock, making me buck forward. Our foreheads clonked together a little.

“C'mere,” Marcus said, laughing. He flopped to one side, landing on top of my laundry, and I pulled him back up to shove it all to the floor, dog hair be damned. Then I was back on him, nudging his knees apart and settling between them, the heat of our chests together making me moan.

His hands went to the fly of my pants, and I sucked in my stomach a little to help him, letting his fingers slide the buttons apart. He shoved my pants down as far as he could and just went straight for my dick, tugging it out of my shorts and squeezing.

I let out a harsh yelp, locking my elbows and letting my head drop between my shoulders. He stroked me hard and fast and I wanted to tell him to slow down, but whatever he was doing with his fingers was goddamn magic and I couldn't say anything other than vowels, panting into his ear.

“Do you want to come?” he whispered, all casual.

“No,” I ground out, my teeth clenched. “Wait.”

He didn't at first, then slowed and stopped, leaving his hand frozen on me. I thought about snow and inventory at the store and slippery guts in my hand, anything to calm myself down and bring me back from the edge. My thoughts went to Leo, and how pissed he was going to be (hurt too, maybe?) before my mind shied away from that. I was too far gone to stop now.

“Do you have condoms?” he asked, taking his hands away from me to unbutton his jeans. I sat up, hooking my hands in his waistband and tugged. “In the bedroom,” I said, eyeing him with appreciation as each new inch of him was exposed.

He gave me an expectant look, and I got clumsily to my feet, self-consciously tucking myself back into my pants. He laughed a little, obviously not at all embarrassed or shy, and I smiled at my own modesty.

“Be right back,” I said.

“Bring a towel, too,” he said, and lay back with one arm behind his head.

I went into my room and went straight into the bathroom to pee, just as a precautionary measure. It took a while, what with the raging boner I had going on, so I ended up staring at myself in the mirror while I waited. “I am going to have sex with him,” I said aloud, watching my own mouth move. It didn't affect me at all, except to make it harder to pee. Back in my bedroom, I dug into the top drawer of my nightstand, searching out the string of condoms I hoped were still stashed in there.

My fingers closed on a crinkly foil square. When I pulled it out, a great wave of guilt washed over me. Fuck, I was an asshole. Leo
trusted
me. Yeah, he was always nagging me to go on a date, but I knew damn well he meant humans, regular humans, not recently dead witch humans who may or may not have been involved with a murderer. Christ, my head hurt just thinking about all the variables of this stupid equation.

But,
but
, the other nasty part of my mind raged - Leo fucking left. Every time. Every couple of months. We fucked when he was in town, and I let myself get all lovey with him, and then he left. I didn't owe him anything.

I shoved it out of my mind, along with everything else I didn't want to think about, and went back to the living room, where Marcus lay on the couch fully naked.

I stopped to stare at him and he gave me a coy smile. “Draw me like one of your French girls,” he said, and I almost doubled over, laughing in giddy relief. I threw the condom at him and he caught it effortlessly, grinning crazily at me. That grin untied the painful knot tugging inside my chest, and I almost pounced on him.

I pushed his legs to the side and sat down, raking my gaze appreciatively up his body. I was envious a little. We had the same build, tall and rangy, but he was tight with muscle, his arms and legs and stomach ripped. He looked like one of those guys who competed in Spartan races; I had more the physique of an underage Russian model, all bones and angles.

Tentatively, I ran my hands up his thighs, stopping just short of his erection. I looked up at him and smiled.

“I've never seen a black cock before,” I said and he laughed a little, making his stomach tense and the cock in question bounce. It was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen, and my fingers twitched on his thighs.

“Just white cocks for you?”

“I live in
Heckerson
.”

“So mostly big bear rednecks, then?”

“Well, there's really only been a few others,” I admitted, feeling myself blush.

“Really?” he said, sounding sort of disappointed. I frowned at the tone in his voice.

“What?” I asked. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, just . . . how many others?”

“Leo. You knew that. And sometimes I go to Missoula or Butte. I've met a few guys there.”

“You fuck them?”

“No, just, you know, hand jobs mostly. I've never gone home with anyone.”

He touched the side of my face, running his thumb along my beard. “So, really, just you and the vampire? That's it?”

“His name's Leo,” I said and he shrugged. “You may have noticed that this is a pretty small town. Not a lot of options.”

“Yeah, but - “ he sat up, almost slapping his cock right into my hand, and I pleased myself by staying still. We both sort of looked down and watched together as I carefully ran one finger up the underside of his penis, making him shiver.

“But aren't there any other gay people here?” He reached out to cup the back of my neck and drew me down for a kiss.

“Yeah, but I haven't talked to them. They're mostly seasonal kids from the ski hill.”

“Why don't you get to know them? Don't you get lonely? Horny?”

“Yes, fuck yes, but -” I shrugged, unable to articulate. “I'm too scared I guess.”

He let a few heartbeats go by, then kissed me softly again and tugged at me, urging me to lie back on top of him.

“Well,” he said softly. “We'll just have to make this good then. To make up for lost time.”

“Sounds great to me,” I said, and kissed him again.

“So you've only fucked the vampire,” he said musingly, when we broke apart again. “Or does he fuck you? Which way do you like?”

“We - I mean, he - “ I shook my head, wanting to get Leo out of my mind and out of the conversation. “I don’t really want to do that.”

His eyebrows came together again. “No?”

“I'd really like to fuck you,” I said quietly, and his expression wavered. “But not right now,” I added. “Just, I mean – we don’t really know each other and –”

“It’s okay,” he said, and he pressed the condom into my hand. I took it from him, feeling our fingers kiss, and he laid back, his legs wantonly spread, completely relaxed. I wanted to apologize for all of it, for how I looked and my reluctance and for my shitty trailer, and for the weird smell coming off my second-hand couch, and for my poverty. Of course he was feeling relaxed; it wasn't his life on display.

I wasn’t sure what he was wanted to happen. He may have been as relaxed as melted butter, but I felt like I was seventeen again, fumbling and nervous and tongue-tied. He watched me expectantly, lazily running one hand up and down his own chest, and I knelt between his legs, fully clothed from the waist down and gawking at him in sort of a dazed bewilderment. Hot, I'm sure.

For lack of anything else to do, and because the silence was getting awkward, I did the only thing I could think of, which was to just suck his cock into my mouth. In terms of distracting him from my embarrassing immobility, it worked extremely well. He gasped and arched up off the couch, his hands flying down to tangle in my hair. On my own end, however, things could have been better; I had misjudged the size of him and the end of his cock jammed into the back of my throat, making my eyes water and tickling my gag reflex. Time to regroup, as inconspicuously as possible.

“Condom, condom,” he gasped from up above me, and I pulled off of him. A string of spit trailed from my mouth to his cock and I wiped my mouth hastily.

“Use a condom,” he told me breathlessly, fumbling it towards me.

“Oh.” I fumbled with it, my numb fingers unable to gain purchase. Finally, I raised it to my mouth and tore at it with my teeth. I wasn't used to condoms, and he wriggled impatiently as he waited for me to get it on him.

“Sorry.” I managed to roll it down, giving him a squeeze and his hips rolled under my hands.

“Ebron,” he whined and I settled myself back between his legs.

I let my mouth go slack and took a few deep calming breaths, then just laved his cock with my tongue, licking up to the head and taking it all into my mouth. The unpleasant chemical taste of the latex threw me, and I drew back for a second. He didn't seem to notice my burning face and I braved onwards, hopeful of smooth sailing ahead. I steeled myself against the taste, breathing through my nose and focusing on the thin, dark skin of his thighs. Taking him a little deeper into my mouth, I wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and gave a few strokes.