Deserted: Book #3, Auctioned Series

by Dee, Cara

  Thirteen

  “Watch your step.”

  Gray hissed and almost stumbled over a rock. “How can I watch it? We’ve traveled back to the dark ages—literally!”

  He’d known Darius lived in the middle of nowhere, but this was ridiculous. It wasn’t merely twenty minutes into the woods in Westslope; first, you had to cross the river and truly leave civilization behind—or what little of it that district had to offer—and then you just kept going north. North, north, north, high up, then down, then up and down again, not to mention around and around some of the higher cliffs that shot up between the mountains. Only then did you reach Darius Quinn’s home.

  Not that Gray could see it. It was pitch black.

  “Let your eyes adjust.” Darius thought this was funny.

  “Or I use the flashlight on my phone,” Gray muttered.

  “Suit yourself.”

  He damn well would. He adjusted the grip on the two duffels he carried and pulled out his phone. No reception. Shocker.

  Let there be light…

  Whoa.

  Yeah, they were in the woods, all right. Two cabins, one bigger than the other, and one shed shared a lawn roughly the size of a hockey rink. A stream cut the area in two, with all the buildings grouped together in one part. The other was empty.

  Gray followed Darius over a six- or seven-foot-long wooden bridge and peered down at the black water. Except, when he aimed the flashlight over the side, he saw that the water was crystal clear. The bottom was all sand.

  “Freshest water you can drink,” Darius said. He pointed up the mountainside behind the property. “It comes straight from the mountain.”

  “So do bears,” Gray mumbled.

  Darius didn’t miss a beat. “Nah, they come from out there.” He jerked his chin at the forest.

  Gray suddenly felt motivated to pick up the pace.

  Darius chuckled. “I’ve never seen a bear here, knucklehead.”

  That didn’t mean shit. Washington had plenty of bears, and the cabin was like the first diner you came across after a road trip in the desert.

  “You haven’t been home in months,” Gray said. “There could be a bear in your damn bed at this point.”

  Darius laughed. “Elise has taken care of the place.”

  Whatever.

  Gray climbed up the two steps that led to a sizable porch that stretched along the length of the façade, and he wasn’t at all surprised to see a rocking chair near the door. The only things missing were a shotgun and some animal hides.

  “Lemme just dig out my keys…” Darius trailed off.

  Gray glanced up at the roof that expanded out over the porch and tried to picture what it would look like after a heavy snowfall. Whoever had built this porch had done it with proper shelter in mind. They were almost completely protected from the wind.

  Wind that brought the forest to life. Trees squeaked tiredly, branches whipped, and the underbrush rustled.

  “You didn’t build this, did you?” Gray asked.

  Darius stepped forward, having found his keys, and stuck the first one into the bottom lock. There were three in total. “Parts of it,” he replied. “I’m not a plumber or an electrician, though. And I’m just one guy. I had plenty of help with the main house, but I did the other one myself—and the toolshed.”

  Gray was impressed. The cabin was by no means small.

  Once they were inside, Darius blocked the entryway and opened a small closet. Gray spied something that flashed to life—a screen or something. Then the door was promptly closed, and coats and boots were left behind.

  “Home sweet home,” Darius sighed. “I’ll get a fire started.” He flicked on the light and set his bags down by the first step of the stairs.

  Gray stayed in the doorway and basically gawked. It fucking was a homestead. Like he’d seen on TV. In old Western movies.

  The downstairs consisted of a living room and adjoining kitchen. He guessed that was a bathroom under the stairs, and the steps were weirdly wide. Everything was made from dark wood. Similar to the old oak floors at Mom’s inn.

  The smooth floorboards still carried the smell of being treated. Darius’s home may be new, but he took care of it.

  He’d had help with the living room area, Gray thought decidedly. Because he couldn’t picture Darius hanging photos on the wall above the couch—or hanging curtains, for that matter.

  Aforementioned couch was buried under layers and layers of blankets in different colors and patterns.

  He’d most definitely picked out the chair, though. It was a typical dude chair in aged leather. It reclined, naturally, and had a footrest.

  Gray shivered and zipped up his hoodie. It wasn’t warm in here, that was for sure, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t cozy.

  Darius squatted down by the fireplace conveniently positioned along the wall between the living room and kitchen. From there, the heat would spread throughout the cabin’s first floor, and it hit Gray that he saw no radiators—wait. There was one. A portable radiator stood underneath the window.

  “A single radiator,” Gray noted.

  Darius threw a log on the fire and eyed the radiator. “Only when I’m gone. It keeps the place dry.”

  Ah. Made sense.

  “There.” Darius wiped his hands on his thighs and stood up. “We should eat something.” He trailed into the kitchen and opened the fridge. The fridge and freezer were the only appliances that looked modern. Stainless steel. The rest… Gas stove, obviously. An impressive knife rack sat on an otherwise empty—and huge—counter. Wooden tools stood in crocks on the small kitchen island instead.

  Um, there was no microwave.

  Gray bet the counter was empty because it was where Darius baked bread. At least, it fit the fantasy.

  “Elise picked up essentials for us.”

  Gray joined him in the kitchen and peered into the fridge. Milk, butter, heavy cream, a big cut of some meat, a case of beer, cheese, and… “What’s that?” He pointed at a white box and rested his chin on Darius’s shoulder.

  Darius took out the box and opened it.

  “Hot damn.” Gray stared at the nine chocolate treats and remembered that Elise owned a shop where she sold those. Truffles and whatnot. “Can we just eat chocolate? There isn’t a whole lot we can do with the rest, aside from slipping into a dairy coma.”

  Darius’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Ye of little faith. I’ll show you.” He set back the box of goodies and closed the fridge, then headed out of the kitchen. “My brothers give me shit for this.”

  Gray quirked a brow, curious.

  They passed the stairs, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Why are the stairs so wide? Three grown men could probably fit side by side.”

  Darius shrugged slightly. “The best spot for the bathroom is right here, and I didn’t wanna feel like I was stuck in an airplane toilet.” He opened a door, and Gray did a double take. Goddamn, the bathroom belonged in a hotel room. A nice one. It had a big shower under the tilted ceiling, with a bench farthest in where one could sit but not stand. Tiny spotlights in the ceiling caused each dark-blue tile to give off a glare. “It cost me an arm and a leg, but it was worth every penny. You gotta be comfortable when you read the paper in the morning.”

  Gray snickered. “Do you even get the paper out here?”

  “No. I pick up my mail in town. But you’ll be proud to know that I read on a tablet. Which reminds me—I gotta charge it.” Darius closed the door again and turned to the wall—okay, maybe it wasn’t a wall…? There was a latch hidden behind a framed illustration of rope knots. “So, this one of my pantries.”

  As in, there was more than one pantry? “Oh my God.” As the door opened farther, shelves upon shelves with food were revealed. The pantry wasn’t necessarily big; only one person could stand in there, but it was seriously packed. Floor-to-ceiling with jars, boxes, crates, and bags. There were two entire rows of nothing but flour. One shelf with sugar, honey, and maple syrup
. Countless boxes of baking soda and packets of dry yeast.

  Gray didn’t know what to say, and he couldn’t stop staring. Crushed tomatoes, canned fruit, canned fucking everything. Peeled potatoes in glass jars, coffee, seeds, pickles, pasta, rice, preserves, powdered milk…

  He remembered watching a TV show about this with Gabriel and Gideon. “You’re one of them,” he heard himself say. “One of those doomsday preppers.”

  Darius straightened. “I’m a homesteader,” he corrected. “Nothing wrong with being prepared, though.”

  “For the zombie apocalypse?”

  Darius rolled his eyes and left the storage area.

  Gray was quick to follow. “We gotta talk about this! I’m highly fascinated!”

  Ignoring the humor, Darius spun on Gray and towered over him in a heartbeat. “Okay, let’s talk. Say you share a one-bedroom apartment in the Valley with a friend, and a storm rolls in. All the stores close, and the power goes out. In your fridge, you have some leftovers and condiments. Would you last a week? What if there’s an epidemic and you gotta self-quarantine? Would you last a month? And what if you lose your job in the middle of a recession? How long can you keep your apartment?” He paused. “What if something happens, and you have Jayden with you? Can you take care of him through a crisis?”

  That wiped the last shred of mirth from Gray’s face, and he felt like he’d been pushed too hard. That Darius had gone too far. The bastard was probably right on every point he was trying to make, but way to be an asshole about it.

  Gray averted his gaze and ducked out of the close proximity. His throat felt thick, so he tried to clear it on the way back to the kitchen. Though, he had no idea what he would do there.

  “Gray, I’m sorry. It’s a sore topic.”

  “No, it’s fine.” Gray went for dismissive. “I know I’m not enough for him yet.”

  Darius cursed and stalked into the kitchen. “That’s not what I meant, and I think you know that deep down. My issue with today’s society comes from years of seeing how the other half lives. Traveling through countries where basic amenities and clean water are luxuries—and seeing how fragile our own system is. It has nothing to do with you personally…” He closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “At the same time as it has everything to do with you.”

  Gray stayed on the other side of the kitchen island and folded his arms over his chest. “What?”

  Darius let his hand fall, and he sighed. “When we get too comfortable, we forget how to defend ourselves,” he said. “That’s what I see happening. We’ve gotten so used to having everything handed to us with a snap of our fingers—or a swipe on a screen. And that’s terrifying to me, because we can lose it all in a second. Whether it’s on a small scale and a family member loses their job, or it’s on a global scale and we fall into an economic depression, life can change so fast. And then what?”

  Gray nodded slowly and looked down. He’d grown up pretty poor, but Mom had worked her ass off to make sure no one missed anything important. She’d been creative and resourceful so Gray and his brothers never had to. She’d been deserted twice, first by the man she’d had Gage and Gray with, then by the man she’d had Gabriel and Gideon with. Oh, he sent money sometimes… His guilt had paid for private school and hockey gear.

  Gray realized what Darius was doing right then and there. “You’re preparing to take care of your family, should anything happen that they can’t get through on their own.”

  “It’s a coping mechanism,” Darius answered. “Maybe not the healthiest one, but it’s how I get by. History shapes us, and I have too much of it. I’ve seen too much of it. Wars, financial collapse, corruption, virus outbreaks, natural disasters…”

  And who could forget the general sales pitch of recruiters at every private military contractor agency? We go where no one else will.

  Darius had hundreds of tiny tattoos that covered a big portion of his chest and shoulder, and many of them were coordinates, Gray had learned. Locations, memories. Spots where he’d gone in to grab someone, save someone, bring someone home.

  “I don’t think it’s just a coping mechanism,” Gray murmured. “I’m not saying your experience hasn’t played a part. Maybe you wouldn’t prepare to feed your family through a famine if you hadn’t personally seen what one does to people—and who suffers the most—but it all boils down to who you are, Dare. You say I’m the happiest when I take care of people I love? I say you’re exactly the same. If I’m the pilot taking a bunch of adrenaline junkies skydiving, you’re the man who makes sure they have parachutes.”

  Darius lost some tension in his shoulders, and his mouth twisted up slightly. “Without the pilot, you can’t get off the ground.”

  “And without a parachute, you’re pretty fucking dead.” Gray saw Darius in a new light and wanted to be near him. Perhaps he shouldn’t find any of this a surprise; after all, he’d personally experienced Darius’s selflessness and bravery before, but there was something more than that to this. He rounded the kitchen island and positioned himself right in front of Darius. “So, you got a pantry full of parachutes.”

  Darius coughed into his fist and said something too quiet to decipher.

  “What?”

  “Three,” Darius muttered.

  Gray grinned and slipped his hands to Darius’s sides. “Is the other cabin just one big grocery store?”

  “No…” Darius planted his palms on the island top, effectively caging Gray in. “It’s gonna be a guest cabin when it’s done—but there is one pantry over there. And equipment for the greenhouse I’m gonna build this spring.”

  Gray hummed. “Makes sense. You’re such a social guy and love having guests over.”

  Darius narrowed his eyes at that. “You never know when you might need it.”

  “Or when someone in your family might need it,” Gray countered. With a soft smile of triumph, he reached up and kissed him. “I overreacted before.”

  Apparently, that was Darius’s cue to make a dig. “Well, you do act on emotion.”

  “Asshole,” Gray chuckled and deepened the kiss.

  Darius drew in a long breath through his nose and wrapped his arms around Gray. It was one of those perfect, toe-curling embraces that began with unhurried strokes up and down his back and slowly morphed into a tight hold charged with urgency and deep-seated affection.

  As Darius swept his tongue into Gray’s mouth in a sensual swirl, all the frustrations of the day washed away, replaced by a different kind of tension. One that made Gray lock his arms around Darius’s neck and press himself as close as possible.

  A sluggish shiver rocked through him, and he exhaled shakily between kisses. “We could eat later.”

  Darius kissed his way down Gray’s neck. “Best idea you’ve had all day.” He cupped Gray’s face and gave him one more hard kiss. “Get our things upstairs. My bedroom is the first thing you’ll see. I need a shower.”

  “Uh, hold up. Let’s conserve water and shower together.”

  Darius chuckled huskily and squeezed Gray’s ass. “Doubt we’ll conserve anything, but you’re on.”

  The bastard was kinda right. Gray couldn’t keep his hands to himself in the shower, and when the suds were washed away from Darius’s perfect body, all bets were off.

  Gray dropped to his knees and nuzzled the root of Darius’s semi-hard cock. As he snaked his tongue around the underside, he looked up at him and was met by a heated expression.

  “Suck me,” Darius murmured huskily. “You don’t know how sexy you are when you’re on your knees for me.” He touched Gray’s cheek. “Just me.”

  Just you.

  Gray maintained eye contact and sucked him into his mouth, his hands sliding back to Darius’s firm ass. The warm water kept falling down on them, thickening the lust that already hung heavy in the air.

  “Christ.” Darius scrubbed his hands over his face.

  Gray decided to test the waters a little. Redoubling his efforts, sucki
ng harder and using his tongue even more, he gently brushed his fingers between Darius’s ass cheeks.

  It elicited a dark little smirk from him, and he peered down at Gray. “I trust you.”

  Perfect. Because there was a world of pleasure Gray wanted to show Darius, who, despite being unbelievably good in bed, was…new, to certain things. Particularly when it came to being on the receiving end.

  Gray jerked Darius’s cock tightly and licked at the wet slit. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”

  Other than a slight lift of his eyebrows, Darius did as told and turned around. He planted a hand against the tiles and gripped his cock with the other.

  Gray stroked his hands over Darius’s ass, finding him out-of-this-world hot and so fucking masculine that he couldn’t stop staring. He couldn’t stop touching him either. Darius sighed contentedly and hung his head. Gray glanced up and saw all the muscles shifting in his broad shoulders and back. Fuck, he was a work of art. And history. The scars and tattoos spoke of the pain he’d endured for others.

  Leaning forward, Gray took the next step and kissed the fleshy part of Darius’s ass. He nipped and sucked at it, unable to help himself.

  “There’s no word to describe how perfect you are, Dare. Every inch of you.” He closed the distance and spread the cheeks, dropping a soft kiss at the center.

  Darius shuddered and rubbed his cock in lazy strokes.

  Gray licked teasingly, coaxing the man to relax fully. “You make me so fucking hard.”

  “Jesus,” Darius whispered.

  As the seconds ticked by, Gray got what he wanted. He swiped his tongue over and around Darius’s opening, then gently pushed inside. Slowly. Sensually. He closed his eyes and hummed against the flesh. Fuck, how Gray had fantasized about tongue-fucking him.

  Darius exhaled a low groan and reached back to thread his fingers into Gray’s hair.

  It spurred Gray on, and he went a little harder. He brushed the pad of his thumb over the opening and licked the sensitive skin around it. Darius sucked in a breath and growled. The sound was so goddamn intoxicating. Gray shuddered and clenched down, unsure of how long he could wait. He needed to be fucked.