Brooklyn Sinners 3 -A Sinner Born (19 page)

Syren dropped his gaze to the array of photos displayed opposite them. He focused on one in particular, where Kane and Bailey stared into the camera, wide smiles on both their faces. Kane’s fingers were buried in Bailey’s hair while Bailey tugged on his right ear.
Pain echoed in Syren’s chest. “I think it’s time for something new, something different and I’m ready for a change.”
Kane leaned over and took his mouth, kissing him tenderly. “Good.” He stretched out and pulled Syren atop him. “Lie with me.”
Who could say no to that? Syren wrapped his arms around him and laid his head on Kane’s chest, allowing his heartbeat to lull him. They needed to talk. They needed to sort out this thing between them, but it could keep until he wasn’t so sleepy. As sleep claimed him, Kane’s phone went off again.
A cramped leg and parched throat woke Syren a while later. He climbed off Kane and padded into the kitchen to get a drink of water, only to stiffen at the sound of a key in Kane’s front door. Placing the cup carefully in the sink, he grabbed a knife off the block on the counter and crept out.
A figure in dark clothes, jeans and t-shirt strode into the living room and stood over Kane where he slept. As Syren watched, a hand reached down and stroked Kane’s head.
Their mystery visitor’s close-shaved head turned slightly and Syren smiled. It appeared Kane’s partner had a death wish.
He tiptoed forward and pressed the blade of the knife to the man’s throat. “You can look, but never touch.”

A touch on his head pulled Kane from sleep. He opened his eyes in time to watch Syren put a knife under Vince’s throat.
“You can look,” Syren snarled as Vince threw his hands up, “but never touch.”
Kane vaulted off the couch. “Syren. Don’t.”
His lover held Vince in a death grip, one hand locked around his neck, the other holding the knife. Syren didn’t appear to hear him, his face was blank.
“Syren.” He lifted his head and Kane motioned to a mercifully silent Vince. “Let him go, you know who he is.”
“Did you know he was coming here?” Syren scowled at him.
“No.” Vince answered before Kane did and Syren’s fingers tightened around the knife. “He didn’t know I was coming. I called your phone,” he addressed Kane, “but you didn’t answer.”
“He didn’t answer so you thought you’d just walk in?”
Fuck. Kane had forgotten about the key he’d given Vince back in the early days of the aftermath of Bailey’s death. “Syren, put the knife down. I’ll handle this.”
Syren flashed him an incredulous look before he stepped away and flung the knife across the room. “Unbelievable.” His anger clouded the air, but Kane focused on Vince.
“Why are you here, Vince?”
His partner turned his betrayed look to Kane. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d put your papers in?” He walked closer and Syren tensed where he stood on the other side of the room, arms crossed. “I have to hear you’re retiring from someone else?”
Jesus. Kane shoved his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t deal with Vince’s hurt feelings right now. “I’m sorry.” From the corner of his eye he watched helplessly as Syren stalked out the room and up the stairs, the tails of Kane’s shirt he wore long enough to hide his panties. Kane turned back to Vince with a sigh.
“This isn’t the time, Vince. I’m sorry you had to hear about me from someone else, but things change, you know?”
Vince scoffed. “Yeah? Like you and him?” He nodded in the direction Syren disappeared. “Do you even know who he is?”
“I know who he is.”
“Do you?” Vince moved into his space and cupped his jaw. “Is that who you want, a criminal?” His eyes bored into Kane, searching. “A drug dealer? Is that how far you’ve fallen?”
Kane shook his head. “You know nothing about him, about us. Don’t judge until you do.”
Vince stared at him. “Is that how it is, you and him now? What was it when you were kissing me?”
He’d known that shit was a mistake and now he was getting it thrown back in his face. Fuck.
“Answer the man, Marshal.” Syren spoke from behind him.
Kane spun. Syren had gotten dressed in his armor, a dark suit and white shirt, all put together, but his eyes told another tale. He dropped his overnight bag on the couch and rummaged through it before zipping it and meeting Kane’s gaze.
“I think your friend deserves an answer, don’t you?” Syren cocked his head. “Give him one, we’re all waiting.”
“Look, Vince, I’m sorry. It was a mistake and I told you that from jump. I can’t give you more.”
Vince’s throat worked. “But you can give him?”
Syren laughed, a brittle sound. “More fool you.” He walked toward the door and Kane grabbed his arm.
“Where are you going?”
Syren shrugged away his hold. “You’re not that stupid or clueless, Marshal. I’m leaving. This shit is getting far too crowded for my liking. I need breathing room.”
“No.” Kane held on to Syren and spoke to Vince. “We’ll see and speak to each other at work.”
Vince stood as if rooted to the floor, his eyes sad. Kane wished he could ease the hurt he’d inflicted on the man he’d called friend for so long, but Syren needed him and Syren was priority.
Finally, Vince stepped away and walked slowly to the door. Kane waited until he heard the door close before he turned Syren to face him. “Don’t go.”
Syren’s face was blank when he shrugged. “There’s no room, no space here for me.” What? “No, don’t say that. Of course, there’s—”
“He has a key!” Syren exploded. He dropped his bag to the floor. “He has a key,” he said again.
“Yes.” Kane nodded.
“Remedy that shit, ASAP.”
Kane bristled. “Are you telling me what to do?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Are you fucking him?”
Kane reared back. “You know I’m not.”
“Yeah? I know you’re fucking me, but I don’t have a key.” Syren shook his head. “Look. I’m already in a ménage relationship with a fucking ghost, I’m not about to put up with this—this four-way shit. I let you take the lead in everything else, but in this I am telling you to remedy that shit. ASAP.”
Kane gaped at the fire in Syren’s eyes, at the fury on his face. He shook his head slowly as Syren’s words sank in. “What are you talking about? What ménage?” But he knew, even before he uttered the words he knew.
Syren approached him slowly. “Do you think I didn’t know?” he asked quietly. “You think I didn’t notice you only fucked me in your guestroom? You think I haven’t seen how you’ve enshrined your own bedroom to him, as if you’re waiting for him to get back from a walk?”
Kane swallowed. “It’s not what you think.” His heart felt as if it had become lodged in his throat. The pain in Syren’s eyes, in his voice, was too much to witness.
“No?” Syren gazed up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Tell me, where is
Sunset
, the painting you loved so much? I bought it for you and no matter how I search, and trust me I’ve searched, I can’t find it anywhere.”
“It’s— I locked it up.”
“Ah.” Syren nodded as if Kane had laid all his questions to rest. “Who do you see when you touch me? When you’re inside me and you close your eyes, are you wishing I were him?” His voice broke. “Are you making love to him through me?”
Jesus Christ. “No,” Kane said firmly. “No, Syren. Never.”
Syren pursed his lips and Kane couldn’t tell if he believed him or not. “Do you know how hard it is to compete with a ghost? It’s an impossible task, Kane. One I can’t win. I’m taking myself out of the running.”
“No.” Kane blocked his path as Syren turned to the door. “Please. Don’t leave. I’m sorry.”
Syren shook his head with a forced chuckle. “What’s there to be sorry about? I never— I never had a chance.” His face crumpled, only for an instant, before he composed himself.
“Syren, please. I want you.”
“More than you miss him?” Syren shot back. “More than you want him?” He didn’t wait for Kane’s reply, he ducked under his arm and started for the front door.
“No.” Kane grabbed him by the hair and dragged him backward. Syren twisted, contorting his body, and freed himself. He spun around and punched Kane on his jaw.
“Don’t fucking manhandle me.”
Kane shook his head to clear the stars. For such a small man, Syren packed a powerful punch. “You hit me.”
“And I’ll do worse damage if you try to stop me.” Syren sneered. He bent to pick up his bag and Kane tackled him. They crashed to the floor, both throwing blows. Syren slammed an elbow into his ribs, stealing his breath, and Kane reciprocated by holding him in a headlock.
“Don’t leave,” he begged. “Don’t leave me.”
Syren stopped moving under him and when Kane released his hold, Syren scrambled to his feet.
“There’s nothing more to say, is there?” He straightened his suit. “I want more and you can’t give it.” He shook his head. “There’s nothing more to say.”
Kane struggled upright. “That’s not true.”
Syren ignored him. Instead he walked into the living room and stood with a hand on his hip. “Give me back
Sunset
. You don’t want it, so give it back.”
Kane followed him. “Fine. Under one condition.”
“What?” Syren glared at him.
“Kiss me goodbye and I’ll give you
Sunset
.”
Syren stared at him as if he’d sprouted an extra eye or something. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
He must be because he didn’t want to see his lover’s back as he walked out that door. He wasn’t ready for what saying goodbye to Syren meant. He was ready to make his feelings clear. “Don’t act like it’s some kind of hardship.” He granted Syren a crooked smile. “You love my kisses.”
Syren’s eyes narrowed. “Not true, but whatever, let’s get this thing over with so I can leave you and your memories alone.” He cocked his head and seized up Kane. “It’s what you prefer, isn’t it? Your memories.”
“It’s not.” He trailed a finger along Syren’s jawline. “It’s not what I prefer and you know that.”
“Because I read minds, yes?” Syren scoffed. He pursed his lips, closed his eyes and waited.
Kane kissed him at one corner of his mouth then the other. He rubbed their cheeks together before planting tiny kisses along Syren’s jaw, journeying to his ear. “I want you, you have to know that.” He bit down on Syren’s lobe gently and grinned when the other man’s breath hitched.
“I don’t know anything anymore, Kane.” Syren’s words were breathy. “Just…let’s make this quick, huh?”
Kane grabbed the back of his head and yanked him back. “Okay. Let’s.” He took Syren’s mouth in a harsh possession, forcing his tongue inside when the man in his arms whimpered. Kane kissed him until his chest burned from the lack of oxygen then lifted his head.
Syren’s eyes were at half-mast, his lips already red and swollen as he gripped Kane’s biceps.
“You want to make this our last one?” Kane bit out. “Then let’s. We’ll go out with a bang.” He tore off Syren’s shirt then took his mouth again. Before the buttons hit the floor his hands were on Syren’s zipper, dragging it down, tugging his pants off his hips.
Syren shuddered, hands pushing him away, but his lips and tongue pulled him in, keeping him close. When his pants dropped to bunch around Syren’s thighs, Kane lifted him in his arms and staggered forward.
The closest chair was Bailey’s armchair and he dumped Syren in it, flipping him until his torso hung over the seat and his knees were on the floor.
“Kane.”
The moan hit him low in his gut and Kane tore at his jeans, freeing his cock as he circled Syren’s hole with two fingers. His vision narrowed only to the man he touched, the man he wanted and needed. He needed to show Syren, to make him understand, but he had no words. This would have to do, it was the best he had.
He tapped at Syren’s entrance with the pad of a finger and his lover tipped his ass in the air. “Ugh. Fuck, Kane.” He was louder, shaking uncontrollably, fingers sinking into the arms of Bailey’s favorite chair.
Bailey who wasn’t there anymore, who’d long gone away.
Kane pulled on his erection. “Lube,” he gritted. “Fuck, we need—”
“My bag.” Syren looked back at him over his shoulder, the same fever clouding his eyes and darkening his cheeks. “Hurry, fuck!” He squeezed a hand between him and the chair and stroked himself. “Kane,” he moaned so prettily. “Please.”
He retrieved the tube of lubricant in record time and crouched behind Syren, quickly slicking up two fingers and pushing them into his lover.
“Oh God.” Syren bent, opening up himself more. “Hard. Please. Please.”
He begged and Kane complied, fucking him with three fingers until he couldn’t stand the delay, until he almost came at the feel of Syren clenching around his digits.
He lubed up and guided himself to Syren’s entrance before pushing in, slow and steady, in and in until he was all there, inside all that heat and tightness.
All for him.
“All for me,” he grounded out against Syren’s nape. “This is all for me.” He bottomed out then eased back and plunged in.
Syren cried out.
Kane thrust in, hard and brutal, trying to make a point, but losing his mind in the pleasure, the rightness of it. “Say you won’t leave,” he begged, a hoarse whisper. “Say it.” He sank his teeth into the flesh of Syren’s shoulder and his lover bucked, clenching his muscles around Kane’s shaft.
His teeth hurt, he ground them so hard. Clamping a hand down on Syren’s right hip, Kane pounded into him while he rained slaps on his ass cheek, reddening it. “Say you’ll stay.”
“Kane.” Syren rolled back onto him, humping him, riding his cock.
“I’m inside you,” Kane rasped. “With no protection, no barriers, and you feel…” He paused to catch his breath. “You feel like nothing and no one I’ve ever felt. Ever.”
Syren shook and buried his face in the chair.
“You have to know that.” Kane slid his fingers in Syren’s hair and used it to lift his head. He drew him back onto his chest then turned his head until their eyes met. Syren’s were red-rimmed. “You have to know how much I want this. You.”
The hope in those eyes, they cut him to the bone. When Syren’s lips parted, Kane kissed him, swallowing whatever he was about to say, sucking on his tongue until Syren pushed back onto him, working them both to the edge.
“Fuck me,” he whispered at the corner of Syren’s mouth. He nipped his jaw then his ear and dragged his tongue along his neck. “Fuck yourself on me, take whatever you need. Whatever you need.”
Syren wrenched his face away with a low cry then covered his mouth with an arm as Kane sped up his punishing strokes.
“Yes.” Kane threw his head back with a groan. “Like that. Fuck.” He held on to Syren’s hips as Syren went to work. Climax swirled at the base of his spine. “Do it.”
Syren clenched and cried out and Kane went over just like that, emptying inside him, filling him with his cum. Syren bucked and yelled, reaching his own completion and before he finished quaking Kane pulled out of him and sat back.
Syren remained hunched over. Evidence of his orgasm splattered the front of the armchair and dripped onto the floor. As Kane watched, his own release eased out of Syren and slid down the backs of his legs.
Fuck. He licked the pad of two fingers then pushed them back inside his lover. Syren jerked and gave a low moan.
“I could fuck you again.” The words rumbled in his chest. He pumped three fingers into the stretched entrance, thrilling at the evidence of his possession, hot and sticky.
Syren didn’t speak, he only made harsh sounds and writhed as Kane finger-fucked him.
“You think I’m all about Bailey, huh?” Kane licked his nape and tasted the salty sweat. “You should know I just fucked you on his favorite chair, the one you came all over.” He pulled out his fingers and stood and walked away without a backward glance.
At the front door he grabbed his t-shirt and keys. He needed fresh air and a clear head and hopefully when he came back Syren would still be there, and he’d know how much Kane wanted him to stay.
How much he needed him to stay.