FoM02 Trammel (13 page)

Dane swept him up and held him close the way he had when Lindsay was barely more substantial than a ghost. Lindsay had grown stronger and taller over time, but he still weighed nearly nothing in Dane’s

estimation. He carried Lindsay back upstairs and nudged the door of their room closed behind them. All he wanted was a moment of peace—time out of mind—with his Lindsay.

Carefully, as though Lindsay was still as fragile as he had been when Dane found him, Dane laid him down on their bed. He pulled away from Lindsay’s sweet, hot kisses and stroked his silky hair back from his face. Flushed, Lindsay was only barely touched with color. Everything about him looked like it was washed in moonlight, from his white-gold hair to his cloud-gray eyes. The animal in Dane wanted to hoard Lindsay like a treasure, protecting what was his from thieves and predators. He brushed a kiss over Lindsay’s forehead, breathing in his scent and finding it tangled with Noah’s.

Dane’s beast would have been more settled at dragging Noah back as well. That way, Lindsay would have no worries, and Dane would know that everything that was his was safe. He needed to know, when so much else was wrong, but it would have been unfair to do that to Noah. He nosed in Lindsay’s hair, rumbling contentedly as the scents there calmed him. Unfair now, but maybe not for much longer. At least something was right. One small thing.

“I don’t want to wake Cyrus,” he murmured, as he was nuzzling in the soft, sweat-perfumed hollow under Lindsay’s ear. “Please.” He let his head rest in the curve of Lindsay’s neck, defeated by his fears and inner conflicts.

He heard Lindsay’s breath catch, then Lindsay nodded and stroked his hair. “It’s done. No one will hear.” As though nothing had changed, Lindsay drew Dane up with his hands in Dane’s hair and kissed him.

“Thank you.” Dane pushed aside the feeling of failing again. He hated to think of Lindsay using his magic to deceive in their own house. Lindsay’s kisses distracted him well, though, and he let Lindsay pull him in for more.

Lindsay’s clothes kept Dane from his skin, and they stank of the chaos that had been on the air at Wildwood. Dane let his shape slide, settling back into the way he’d been when Lindsay had first come to him, and drew his claws down Lindsay’s chest. The fabric of Lindsay’s shirt parted without a sound, leaving the skin below untouched and bare for Dane to kiss.

“Anything,” Lindsay said, and Dane knew he meant it.

Dane reveled in every inch of perfect skin he revealed, kissing all over, down to the soft inner arches of Lindsay’s feet. There was nothing to wash away his unhappiness and fear like Lindsay’s scent and taste and the soft sounds that answered his kisses.

He stopped for a moment to look at what he’d done, at Lindsay sprawled in the ragged ruins of his clothes, and the sight made him purr. The scent of Lindsay’s pleasure drew Dane into licking the tender skin of his balls and up the shaft of his perfect cock.

That drew more moans from Lindsay, and harsher, needier sounds. “Please.” Lindsay’s voice was little more than a gasp, and he clenched his hands in the sheets and scraps of cloth. “Dane, please.”

That was all Dane needed to hear. He pinned Lindsay down to the bed with his hands wrapped around Lindsay’s slim hips and went down on him like he was starving. Lindsay was so sweet like this. Dane didn’t do it nearly often enough.

Lindsay’s noises became sharper and more desperate, and precome slicked over Dane’s tongue.

Sudden stillness and a quick hiss were all the warning Dane got before Lindsay was bucking his hips, shouting and coming in Dane’s mouth in a way that never failed to leave Dane shivering and so turned on that he could hardly think. He wanted to do it again and again, but he made himself stop once he’d licked every last trace of come from Lindsay’s skin. Somehow, he managed to start shedding his clothes as he crawled up to kiss Lindsay on the mouth.

“My Lindsay,” he growled.

“Yours,” Lindsay agreed, but he was pushing Dane away. Not away, onto his back, and Lindsay climbed up over him and kissed him again. “I want you.”

If there was anything that could divert Dane from his objective—no matter what it was—it was Lindsay wanting something else. “Anything.” Dane pushed himself up on one elbow, tangling the other hand in Lindsay’s hair, and kissed him fiercely. Anything, but first he needed one more kiss.

Lindsay let him have it, and another one after, but then he was moving away, down Dane’s body to trace the head of Dane’s cock with his tongue. Little licks and kisses all the way to the base of it, and the noises Lindsay made were as good as they had been when Dane was sucking him off.

“Lindsay...” Dane didn’t want to miss a moment of watching. He pushed Lindsay’s hair out of the way so he could see everything, Lindsay’s cheeks almost-rosy with pleasure, his mouth slick and full, the expression of pure indulgence. “Pretty.” And incredibly talented at making Dane forget that there had ever been anything else he’d wanted.

The humming noise Lindsay made sounded like a smile. He nuzzled at Dane’s cock, and sucked it into his mouth again like he couldn’t get enough. His fierce determination to make Dane feel good came through in everything he did.

Dane let him have what he wanted, the gasps of pleasure, the surrender to his sweet demands that Dane give up control and enjoy the skills Lindsay had developed since they’d first been together.

Everything about Lindsay was delicious, including this. Dane tangled his hand in Lindsay’s hair and tried to focus so that he wouldn’t forget himself, but Lindsay made it impossible.

It wasn’t long until Dane was spread out under him, hand tight in Lindsay’s hair, rocking his hips to meet Lindsay’s mouth. None of it slowed Lindsay down. He got his hands on Dane’s hips to hold him back when he pushed too far, too fast, but that only seemed to make him go faster and take Dane deeper.

Lindsay was beautiful and incredibly good at sucking cock, but it was his fierce attitude that pushed Dane’s composure to the breaking point. He gave up and let Lindsay have him, grabbing at the pillows under his head to stop from pulling Lindsay’s hair. Biting his lip to keep quiet was only denying Lindsay

something, so he made himself give that up too, yielding to a cascade of desperate gasps and babbling about how much he wanted Lindsay.

Lindsay swallowed him down, giving Dane that last bit of permission to come. It was everything Dane needed in the moment. After, when Lindsay crawled up over him to snuggle close and kiss him on the mouth, Dane pulled him in and held on as tightly as he could without leaving Lindsay breathless.

He tugged the blankets over them both, like he could hide them away from reality that way. Kissing Lindsay again and again, soft kisses on his mouth and cheeks and forehead, Dane tried to catch his breath.

Slowly, his body came down from the high of all the pleasure Lindsay had given him, and he was left with the pure bliss of having Lindsay there with him.

Needing Lindsay was something Dane had never anticipated. Being needed, of course, that was why he was there. As time passed, though, Dane had grown more than accustomed to Lindsay’s presence.

Lindsay’s crooked little sense of humor and completely unsubtle bursts of dominance and those pointy elbows in his ribs at night had become as necessary as breathing. He adored Lindsay right down to the flaws that let Lindsay need him in return.

Rolling over so Lindsay was cradled in his arms, looking up at him, Dane took a long moment to breathe in Lindsay’s contentment and soak in the sight of him. They could go on another hundred years, and Lindsay would never assume that what was between them was anything but a bit of luck that came with Cyrus insisting Dane take him on. Dane needed to fix that before he did anything else. Lindsay deserved better.

Dane kissed Lindsay’s forehead and smoothed back his tangled hair. The way Lindsay looked up at him—trusting but curious and tentatively pleased with himself—made Dane’s ribs ache from keeping his heart in check.

“I love you, Lindsay.” Simple, true and obvious, and Dane wasn’t going to let Lindsay wander around in the dark about it any longer.

Lindsay’s surprise and confusion were written all over his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Finally, brows drawn together, he said, “You do?”

If Dane’s announcement had gotten anything else out of Lindsay, he would have been sorely disappointed in his judgment. As it was, he tried not to laugh at Lindsay’s frown, and kissed it away instead.

“Yeah, I do.” Lindsay wasn’t going to be clear on this any time soon and would quickly gravitate toward anything he understood better than being loved, so Dane needed to get his words right. “I love you.

Not because Cyrus gave you to me or any other bullshit about tradition. I love you, and I need you to know that. If all this goes away tomorrow, and it’s you and me sitting on a street corner like any two humans out of a job out there, I love you.”

“But.” Lindsay was quiet again. Dane could see him turning the new information over in his mind, could see all the objections and disbelief, but those weren’t what Lindsay asked about. “Me?”

Dane couldn’t help laughing this time. “You.” He kissed Lindsay on the mouth, gently. “I love
you
.

You made me human long before Ezqel took that damn curse off me. Just by being you. The little angry face you make when you step in a puddle, the way you breathe when you’re doing a very good job of not complaining, the way you refuse to run away even when it would save your life, all of it. I know you don’t understand. I know you don’t think anyone’s ever loved you. But I do. And I won’t let you think it’s anything else.”

“Oh.” Lindsay nodded slowly, a hint of something like hope and pleasure creeping into his expression. He tilted his face up, asking for a kiss.

Dane gave him that kiss and another for good measure. “I loved you this morning and yesterday and the day before that, and for a long time now. Don’t think anything has to change. It is what it always is.”

He ran his thumb over Lindsay’s lower lip. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Lindsay seemed to accept that. He smiled and leaned up to steal another kiss. “I like what it always is. So.”

“Good to hear. Me too.” Dane knew it would take time—maybe years—for Lindsay to make sense of being loved. But not telling him now would only make it harder to explain later. He kissed Lindsay’s hair and snuggled down with him, pulling Lindsay back against his chest. “Stay with me a while?” He had to check on Cyrus soon, maybe Lindsay needed to check on Noah, but Dane wanted just a little longer.

Lindsay snuggled up to him with a contented sigh. “Yes, please.”

Perfect. Dane tucked his face down into the curve of Lindsay’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t sleep, but he would rest, and that was what he needed.

Chapter Six

Noah came back to an empty room. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but when he realized that the most likely scenario was Dane emerging from hiding and coming to find Lindsay, he had his answer.

He was glad Lindsay hadn’t had to wait long.

The longer he was in Cyrus’s house, the more he learned to like both of them. They were as different as two people could get and obviously smitten with each other. Since Dane had accepted him, he’d been able to relax. It was good, and he was willing to do anything to keep it that way.

As for the unexpected outcome of napping with Lindsay, Noah was putting it down to being overcharged with his magic and too tired at the same time. They’d each forgotten who was next to them, and he couldn’t blame either of them for seeking comfort. Lindsay could be trusted with anything, even Noah’s mistakes, and Lindsay deserved whatever support Noah could give him. He belonged to Lindsay, scars and all.

Scotch and cigarettes in hand, Noah headed out back. There was enough light for him to get some work in before night fell, and he needed to be busy.

By the time the yard was filled with black shadows and gray evening, he had the stairs and rails on the porch. There wasn’t much in the way of a floor yet, but that would go in fast. He’d gone through the scotch and half a dozen beers and most of a pack of cigarettes, and he was tired. He wanted to be tired. He dragged himself into the house, taped a warning sign to the inside of the back door, and went to bed. There was no sense troubling Lindsay when he was too tired to have nightmares. He made it out of his sneakers and shirt before he crawled into bed and slept.

“Noah?” A soft voice drew him out of sleep. “You didn’t tell me you were going to bed this early.”

“Long day.” It must have been, if he’d forgotten to tell her he was going to bed. The bed shifted and he moved over to make room for her.

“Are you smoking again?” She sneezed. “Never mind. You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.” Noah knew he was dreaming, but he pushed the knowledge away. Elle snuggled into his arms and put her head on his shoulder so he could press his cheek against her soft, golden hair. He never got to have good dreams about her. It wasn’t fair. “I love you too.”

One dream would be enough. A good one. In his mind, Noah closed his eyes and held on to her. If he could have one good dream, he wouldn’t want to wake up from it.

“Noah.” Someone was shaking him. “Noah, wake up.” Elle sounded frightened. “I smell smoke.”

“Where?” He was always careful about grinding out his cigarettes, even splashing water into the ashtray before dumping it. “Are you sure?” When he opened his eyes, the room was full of fire and she was crying and tearing at his arms with her long nails.

“Get us out. Noah. Make it stop!” She choked on the smoke, and still, she was sobbing.

The flames were gnawing at the bed, the blankets were on fire. Noah found the window jammed when he went to open it. He turned to grab Elle, to pull her away from the fire, as her hair flared into flames. In the back of his head, some analytical voice asked him why he didn’t use his magic as he batted at the fire with his bare hands.

What magic?
He tried to break the window but his burned hands only split and bled. Elle’s weight fell against him and she was silent now. The only sound he heard was his own voice, howling.