A Shadow of Wings (24 page)

And like that knight, Dylan could slay Cam now, with just a word. A lump rose in his throat. “Dylan…”

Dylan has risen to his knees again and sat gazing down at Cam, looking at all of him. Cam couldn’t interpret his expression. Was he pleased? Revolted? Appalled?

Every instinct cried out to hide what he was. With concentration, he could mask his wings, enclose his soul again within his guise. But he had to trust in this. Whatever this was between them. His heart drummed. He’d be a fool not to prepare for rejection. “Dylan,” he whispered again.

Blue eyes met his. Serious eyes. “Damn, baby. You are so beautiful.”

Cam could breathe again.
You might not say that if you saw what I really am
, he wanted to say. Instead, he murmured, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The flash of Dylan’s quick, cocky grin broke the serious mood, as if he realized things were getting too intense. With a firm hand, he pushed Cam’s thighs apart, then bent to grasp Cam’s dick and slide his hot tongue up the underside.

Gasping sharply, he lifted his hips into the delicious sensation. Tangling his fingers again into Dylan’s hair, he hissed. 

“Don’t come too soon,” Dylan warned. “I got plans for you.”

His entire body shuddered under a new onslaught of lips and tongue. “I can’t promise anything. Oh my God, that’s…amazing.”

The response was a full-on suck down to the root while Dylan’s fingers toyed with Cam’s balls. Once again, he thanked whatever angel had whispered in the ear of God and convinced Him to give a cockatrice a full male body. How awful it would be to have the weasel’s shadowy shape, never fully formed. But Cam was flesh and bone, and Dylan seemed to know every sensitive spot on his body, now sucking his nuts while his hand jacked his dick. “I can’t…” Cam gasped out.

“Nuh-uh. Not yet. I told you.” Dylan stopped, squeezing his fist hard around the base of Cam’s cock. With a practiced eye, he seemed to judge Cam’s condition, then resumed the delicious torture. Somehow he knew each time Cam balanced on the brink of coming, and each time he’d back off. His body on fire, layered in a fine sheen of sweat, Cam had to bunch his hands into tight fists on either side of his head to keep from seizing his cock and finishing the job.

“Please,” he panted. “I can’t take any more.”

Dylan kissed the inside of Cam’s thigh, then licked his way around his balls one more time before he lifted his head and his hand away. “All right, you’re ready, I think.”

“For what?” 

“You’ll see.”

He liked that slippery little smile. He also liked that Dylan had the lube out. He unscrewed it, squeezed some onto his finger. But instead of prepping Cam, he reached around and fingered himself.

His hair falling over his closing eyes, his wet, swollen lips slightly parted as he breathed, Dylan was Cam’s every wet dream come to life. Greedy, he reached out and slid his fingers over his lover’s dick, imagining Dylan pumping his slick digit into his own ass. His breath caught—did this mean…?

Dylan’s eyes opened and held his as he slicked lube over Cam’s aching rod in languorous strokes that only ramped up Cam’s need. “You wanna fuck me tonight?”

“Can I?” he blurted, nearly whimpering from the ecstasy of Dylan’s lightly closed fist running up and down his cock. 

Dylan’s low laughter rumbled. “We’re gonna fuck each other. You’ll see.” With that, he tossed the lube, then moved to straddle Cam’s hips, knees on either side. Biting his lip, Dylan gripped Cam’s cock and positioned it. Cam felt everything—the hot, slippery trap of Dylan’s fingers; the slight prickle of hair as Dylan began to lower onto him; the tight kiss of Dylan’s opening against the tip of his cockhead. 

And then… Pressure and heat and
oh my God
Dylan was taking him in. 

Helplessly, Cam tossed back his head, grasping Dylan’s thighs as he forced his way down. Suddenly, the tightness eased, and Dylan responded with an audible exhale. His thighs were like iron beneath Cam’s fingers, trembling, but his body, oh his body was like sweet melted butter around his dick, soft, soft skin and insistent muscle. And then he lowered fully onto Cam’s hips with a smile the devil himself would be proud of.

“How’s that?” he asked. As if he needed to.

“Like heaven,” Cam whispered.

“Mmm-hmm.” Biting his lip, Dylan raised himself, then settled again. The muscles in his abdomen rippled.

Cam’s toes curled hard. He arched his hips, seeking more of that unbearably good friction. “Ahh. Oh fuck. Do that again.”

He did, easing down with a breath hissed through his lips. “Like that?”

“More…”

He did again, the silky suction of his body caressing Cam’s hypersensitive nerves. He leaned forward, his hands on Cam’s chest, fingertips toying with Cam’s nipples while he pumped himself up and down, slow and deliberate. Now Cam could touch him everywhere. The sweat-sprung back, the ribs, the tender nape, the mouth, which came down on his in a beautifully soft kiss. 

Their tongues played while their bodies found an unhurried rhythm. Instinct guided Cam. He listened for soft gasps and murmurs while he nibbled Dylan’s ear and bit his shoulder. When he reached between them and wrapped his hand around his lover’s cock, Dylan lifted again slightly, perhaps to give him more room. Dylan’s scruffy cheeks were flushed, his eyes glazed beneath thick lashes.

“Is it good?” Cam asked. “I mean… I just…”

“It’s perfect. It’s everything I ever wanted. Like Christmas every fucking day.” Leaning back, he put his hands on Cam’s thighs, never stopping the rhythm that dragged Cam inevitably closer to orgasm. His body shook with it. Sparks of pleasure winged through him. Only the wonder and novelty of the situation broke his concentration enough to hold off. 

Panting and muttering, Dylan worked himself on Cam’s cock, and Cam worked his hand over Dylan’s. His palm dampened with precum. The head of Dylan’s dick butted from his closed fist, dark red and slick. Yes, Dylan was close too. Bliss, sheer bliss and heat and light filled him, and when Dylan bent forward again, he carefully closed his eyes lest his gaze harm him. He lifted his head for the kiss and the sliding of tongues, gripping Dylan’s sweaty, hard shoulder with his free hand. The salt of sweat burned his lips; the scent of Dylan’s skin filled his nostrils, the sweetest aphrodisiac.

“Look at me, Cam,” Dylan demanded. When Cam tried to turn away, Dylan gripped his chin. “It’s okay. I want this.”

Impossible. “I can’t. I’m…feeling too much. I might hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me. You won’t.” A slight shake of his jaw. “Trust me like I trust you.”

Trust. Yes. 

He opened his eyes. Dylan’s were inches away, staring straight into his, huge and blue. Cam’s heartbeat throbbed through his entire body, culminating in his cock, caressed by Dylan’s inner muscles. Hot and sticky, Dylan’s dick pushed into his palm. But his entire world melted into Dylan’s gaze.
Trust
. 

Was it possible?

“Make me come,” Dylan growled. “And don’t stop looking at me.”

One, two, three firm strokes, and Cam felt Dylan’s body clenching, pulling at Cam’s cock as he gasped. Cam’s hips lifted as the rush hit him. It took all his will not to close his eyes.
Trust
. Instead, sucking in breaths, he stared into Dylan’s open gaze, baring everything. Risking everything. 

Praying he wouldn’t kill his lover.

Finding he could trust after all.

Chapter Sixteen

They had a few days together, probably the best of Dylan’s life. They slept together, fucked like bunnies, and spent the afternoons roaming the city and visiting Dylan’s favorite haunts. 

One night, Cam even invited Manuela over to cook with him. The old lady had never looked happier, clearly charmed by Cam’s manner and apparently fluent Spanish as they made all sorts of awesome Mexican food in Dylan’s tiny kitchen with the help of some appliances borrowed from Manuela’s place. They’d made Dylan knock on Jose’s door with a peace offering of guacamole and a dinner invitation. Since Dylan only had the air mattress to offer for seating, they set up dishes at Manuela’s battered kitchen table. Jose contributed some Dos Equis. Though he ate a ton, Jose still refused to talk to Dylan in more than one- or two-word answers and gave him only a grudging nod when he left. Cam assured Dylan it was progress, and Manuela looked like ten years had dropped off her, she was so happy. For sure it had been a night to remember.

Despite that and the rare joy of having a guy around he cared about, Dylan found himself getting more and more miserable. Whether it was because he was having to face his feelings for Cam or because he couldn’t stop thinking about Cam leaving, he couldn’t say, but this morning, after another night of incredible sex and not enough sleep, he decided to sneak out for a run. Didn’t matter that it was nearly six a.m., or that Cam lay warm and sound asleep beside him. The candles had died out long ago, and only the palest light washed in through the window. The sound of distant traffic reminded Dylan he wasn’t quite the last man on earth. Although lately he felt…different. Separate from all that humanity just outside. 

He’d changed.

Propping himself up on one elbow, breathing in the fresh cotton scent of the brand-new sheets they laid over the mattress after they’d given the old sleeping bag its final ride, he trailed his fingertips lightly through Cam’s hair and studied his peaceful face. Those full lips Dylan had practically worshiped the last few days curved up at the corners. He’d seen that sweet expression somewhere else before. Oh yeah, on a baby—a well-fed, well-loved baby who’d fallen asleep in his stroller on a sunny day in the park. 

Who knew why, but that image rose fresh in his mind, and he remembered feeling a pang of envy that anyone could be so utterly content and confident of their place in the universe. 

Had Dylan given Cam that smile? Given him good dreams? Carefully, he leaned down and brushed his lips over Cam’s. Cam sighed and rolled toward him, flopping an arm over Dylan’s hip. Damn, this guy was precious. He drew the sheet up over Cam’s bare shoulder. It was getting colder in here. And he didn’t want Cam to wake up when he left.

He was too restless to stay in bed. He kept thinking about Cam and what he was, or wasn’t, and now those weird weasel things. What Cam had told him only made him more curious—and jumpy. He’d felt the malice radiating from that one that had been staring at him a few days back. 

Now, Dylan sometimes felt as if he were being watched. If he went out in the afternoon to look for work, his skin prickled when he passed a shadowy spot, or he’d hear a skittering noise from an alley. Cam hadn’t mentioned them again. Although Cam was happy enough to share stories of his travels with Tash, and Dylan amused him with tales of his mischievous past, they said no more about the strange thing Dylan had seen. Most of all, they avoided the topic of Cam leaving. Maybe Cam couldn’t face it either.

As if Dylan’s troubled thoughts had invaded his dreams, Cam tossed and muttered, his quiet expression disappearing beneath lowering brows. His hand slid from Dylan’s waist to his own stomach, as if he was in pain, and he drew up his knees into a fetal position. Concerned, Dylan touched the back of his hand to Cam’s forehead. He didn’t feel hot. But he did look uncomfortable. It wasn’t the first time Dylan had caught him wincing, and if Cam noticed, he was quick to mask it. 

Maybe he was sore. God knew Dylan was. Whatever Cam was, he sure as hell had a healthy dick and a raging sexual appetite to go along with it. A tremor of heat flushed over Dylan as he thought back on riding Cam’s cock, the thick pressure of it shoved inside him, or entering Cam with delicious leisure, filling him until he couldn’t take any more.

And coming, oh hell yeah… Looking into those eyes was like falling over a cliff into the heart of the sun. Cam had been reluctant to keep his eyes open at first, but every time since had gotten easier, and more meaningful. Each time they fucked, Dylan could swear his soul left his body, and Cam’s too. The wings swept up around them, and they existed in their own private enclave of shadow and sensation and just…each other. 

Maybe not all of his soul had come back. Felt like some of it had stayed with Cam. 

Funny, he’d never really thought about shit like that before. He’d been pretty convinced there wasn’t a scrap of immortality in him, just cold flesh going through the movements. Guess now he was convinced he had a soul, and it was tangled up with Cam’s pretty darned good. This guy was making him think about a lot of things he didn’t normally. Like the meaning of life, and whether there was a god or heaven or fate or destiny… All that philosophical bullshit. 

He made Dylan wonder if maybe there was a chance he could erase the lost years and be the person he should have been all along. There’d been a time he’d had a vision for his future. When he’d wanted to study music, travel the world. Have a lover, a partner in that life…

Surprised to realize he was cupping Cam’s face with his palm and gazing at him with nothing less than adoration, Dylan carefully drew back his hand, then slid out from under the sheets and stood. He took a short, sharp breath and collected himself. A shiver ran through him, not just from the chill in the air. This was too much change at once. He needed to get out, run off his jitters.

He grabbed up his jeans, then tugged them on, plus his hoodie. Putting on his sneaks and tiptoeing out the door felt an awful lot like running away, even though he had every intention of coming back. He just couldn’t lie there wide awake anymore. Too much on his mind, not the least of which was the hammering fear that he was falling hard for Cameron Coburn, and that when he left, the pain of it would plunge Dylan into a downward spiral. 

As soon as his feet hit the pavement, he turned right and started a slow jog. His breath plumed out behind him. He pulled up his hood. The footfalls echoed against the brick walls around him. Nobody was out this late, least not this time of year. In summer, there was always somebody around. Now the cold kept it quiet, and he could let his mind fill with the rhythmic slap of his stride, drumming out unwanted thoughts. He turned left on Marley Avenue and headed for the river and the linear trail.