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Deserted: Book #3, Auctioned Series

Page 17

by Dee, Cara


  Thankfully, Darius put his foot down a couple minutes later.

  “I’m too close,” he said, breathing heavily. “I wanna be inside you when I come.”

  Gray drew a ragged breath and rose to his feet, and before he could turn around, Darius pushed him up against a wall and kissed him hungrily.

  Gray moaned and melted into the rough touches Darius gave him. His hands were everywhere, grabbing at him, manipulating his skin, kneading his ass, pressing their cocks together. When Darius finally spun him to face the wall, Gray was ready to blow.

  His breathing hitched.

  Darius lubed up his cock with bath oil. “We should put a lube dispenser in every room of the house.”

  Gray laughed shakily, too needy, strung too tightly. “Give it to me, baby. I need y—”

  He wasn’t even allowed to finish his sentence before Darius grabbed ahold of Gray’s neck and forced his cock deep inside his ass.

  A silent “Oh God” fell from his lips as an intense pain blazed through him, shocking his nerve endings to life. It made him hypersensitive.

  Darius didn’t go easy on him. He set a fast pace and kept his hold on Gray’s neck, bending him forward a bit.

  It was everything Gray had craved and then some.

  What hit him the most was the sense of loss. He’d missed Darius. He’d missed him like this, being so close to him, being ravished by him. Being desired by him.

  “There’s no enough,” Darius rasped. He pressed Gray up against the wall again and ground his cock into him, strapping his arm across Gray’s chest. His hand came up to his neck, and he let his fingers wander loosely around his throat. “Kiss me.”

  Gray whimpered and tilted his head back, and they met in a messy kiss.

  “More,” Gray managed to gasp. “Everything—I need it.”

  “Whatever you want.” Darius slid his hand down to Gray’s cock and gripped it firmly. “I love feeling you like this.”

  The pleasure built up rapidly, and the storm surging within was a contrast to how his body reacted outwardly, because he could barely fucking move. He couldn’t even meet Darius’s thrusts. He just stood there and took it—and silently begged for more.

  “Fuck, so good,” Gray groaned. He pressed his forehead to the tiles and stared at Darius’s hand moving up and down his cock. “I’m gonna come.”

  Seconds later, he watched as ropes and ropes of come spurted from his cock. The euphoria crashed down on him, stealing his breath, stealing his ability to think. Darius followed shortly after with a handful of sharp, jerky thrusts.

  Fourteen

  Gray woke up the next morning feeling well-rested and deliciously sore everywhere.

  He didn’t like that he was alone in bed, but when he got the first waft of coffee and freshly baked bread, he decided he could deal. Snow was falling outside the window, and a fire was crackling in the corner. Darius must’ve stoked it when he woke up.

  The room didn’t have much else. No pictures on the walls. No knickknacks. There was a guitar case hidden behind a rocking chair that was used to throw clothes on, the bed, a dresser, and two nightstands.

  Darius’s home left a warm feeling in Gray’s chest, but there was something missing.

  He slipped out of bed and into a pair of sweats. It was still early. Just a little past seven, so he had time before he had to go get Jayden. There were no texts or missed calls from him. Hopefully, that meant he hadn’t suffered too much.

  The thought of seeing the kid soon made his heart clench.

  It was gonna be a good day.

  Tightening the drawstrings on his sweats, he headed out the door and trailed down the stairs. He found Darius in the kitchen, making scrambled eggs on the stove and listening to the early morning news on the radio.

  “Good morning.” Gray snuck over to him and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

  “Morning. Just in time for breakfast.”

  Gray gave the kitchen a sweeping glance, wondering if there was anything he could do. “Where did the eggs come from?” The bread was ready; it rested under a towel on the kitchen island. The butter was next to it, in an actual tin container. Who did that anymore? Wait. That wasn’t the butter he’d seen in the fridge yesterday. He gave it a closer look and frowned. The butter was weirdly yellow and looked whipped. “What kind of butter is that? It’s yellow.”

  “Butter is supposed to be yellow, you margarine-raised child.” Darius set the eggs aside and joined Gray at the island. “I stepped out earlier. A friend of my pop has a small-scale farm near the bridge. I buy eggs, butter, sausage, and beef from him.”

  “Cool.” Gray’s stomach growled with hunger. “By the way, I can still feel your cock in my ass from two rounds of fucking, so maybe you don’t call me child. Also, fuck you. I know what butter looks like.”

  Darius grinned faintly and leaned in for a quick kiss. “I like fucking with you almost as much as I like fucking you.”

  “Hmpf.” Gray pretended to be annoyed, though it wasn’t working very well. He liked this too much. He liked waking up in Darius’s cabin, being here, spending time with him during somewhat normal circumstances.

  “How did you sleep? I didn’t hear you last night. I usually do.” Darius bent over to get something out of the oven.

  Gray shrugged slightly and rubbed his neck, feeling the slight bumps of the barcode tattoo he had there. “It wasn’t too bad, I guess.” He eyed the counter and wondered where the coffee smell came from. There was no coffeemaker. “I dreamed about Jonas. I was trying to find him to tell him about Jayden, but I was just wandering around in darkness.”

  Darius hummed and set a skillet on the stove. The one that had been in the oven. It was packed with sausage smothered in white beans and tomato sauce.

  Gray spotted a kettle on the stove. He wouldn’t…would he? Did he make coffee in that?

  “Don’t tell me you don’t have a regular coffeemaker.”

  “Okay. I won’t tell you that.” Darius offered him a look of confusion before he grabbed two plates from a cupboard.

  “No, but seriously,” Gray pressed. “I don’t expect you to be the type to have an espresso machine or anything from this century, but a freaking coffeemaker?”

  Darius let out a laugh. “Wait till you try it, knucklehead. Best coffee you’ll ever have.”

  Bullshit. Making coffee like that, pouring the coffee straight into a pot of water, was only okay when you went camping.

  “Willow gave me two of them for my birthday,” Darius said. “It has a built-in strainer and everythin’.”

  “Why two—never mind.” Gray already knew the answer. If one broke… Fucking preppers. “Good thing you’re gorgeous.”

  Darius shook his head in amusement and brought two plates full of food to the living room table. There was no dining table, even though there was space for it right outside the kitchen.

  Gray pitched in and brought a few slices of bread and the butter to the couch, and Darius joined him once he’d gotten their coffee.

  “Can you drive me to my mom’s later?” Gray asked. “I think Gage’s truck is parked there. I need to borrow it so I can get around.”

  Darius furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong with mine? You can take the Wagoneer. I have my truck.” He took a quick sip of his coffee. “We’ll go together today, though. I can drop you and Jayden off at the store before I see Willow. I want an update.”

  Gray didn’t want to miss that. “That’s…thank you, but can I go too? Or maybe that will be difficult for her,” he backtracked, remembering Willow’s anxiety issues. She didn’t speak to many people outside of her immediate family.

  Darius waved that off. “Nah, she’ll just switch to sign language. It’ll be good for you to meet each other in person.”

  Gray sank into a cushion of contentment and tucked into his breakfast. And everything hit him at once. The fresh bread dipped in tomato sauce and the rich taste of salted butter, the snow falling outside, the fire spreading war
mth in the room, the smell of pine, and the generations of history breathing through the old blankets that covered the couch. A couple were knitted, one was patchwork, some were woven.

  He pulled up a knee on the couch and sat more sideways so he could inspect the pictures above the couch, and they were as mismatched as everything else in the cabin. Or the frames were, rather. Yet, they fit perfectly. One picture was of Elise and presumably Willow. Two slight, raven-haired girls with big grins and pale arms around each other. Another was of who he assumed were Darius’s parents. An older man sat in a lawn chair under an umbrella, and he had a woman standing at his side. Both were smiling and squinting, maybe for the sun. Apple trees in the background.

  Darius was in a few of the pictures too. Gray liked one in particular. He wore a smirk and had his arm thrown around the neck of a younger man, who was in the middle of laughing when the photo had been taken.

  “Who’s the guy you’re clearly raising hell with up there?”

  Darius adjusted in his seat and glanced up. “That would be Lias.” The youngest brother in the family. “I’m trying to get Elise to put up pictures above my bed too, but she’s a tough negotiator. She did this wall under the condition that I gotta have dinner with her, Ave, and the girls once a month.”

  “Oh no, that sounds awful,” Gray deadpanned.

  “They could come up here,” he argued. “I work at the restaurant six nights a week and have a shitload to do here to prepare for every season.” He nodded at Gray. “Don’t think I won’t use you to get us ready for spring. I have just enough space across the stream to support a single family with some basic crops.”

  Gray pretended to be offended. “I knew it. You only want me here to grow potatoes for you.”

  “That’s a solid excuse. I’ll run with that.” Darius nodded and sipped his coffee.

  Gray cast a glance at his own mug on the table. Tin mug. Of course. He picked it up and lost the humor. “I owe you everything, Dare. I’m here for as long as you want.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  Gray quirked a brow and took a careful sip. Shit, it was strong. But…fucking amazing. He swallowed and took another swig.

  Darius smiled knowingly.

  “Shut up,” Gray mumbled into the mug. “Is there anything you’re not great at?”

  That earned him a snort. “Heaps.” He chewed on a mouthful of bread and gave Gray a pensive look. “You said you’re good at making pies. Can you make cinnamon rolls too? I got a hankering after Adeline mentioned they baked for the retirement community.”

  Gray had only tried making cinnamon rolls once, and it’d been an utter disaster. “Sure,” he lied. Because if Darius wanted cinnamon rolls, Gray was gonna make them, so help him. He could call Mom and ask for a recipe. “I can make some tonight.”

  “Fantastic. I’ll make us a stew for dinner.”

  Oh boy. Gray was gonna get used to this way too fast. He could already feel an addiction creeping in. Because though he teased Darius about all the old-school stuff, there was a bizarre appeal to this lifestyle too. There was a sense of freedom in going back to basics, and Gray needed to feel useful. Up here, there would always be something to do, and the results were instant. Darius’s manual labor paid off every time he sat down for a meal, every time he went to bed in a warm house. Each day was an investment in his own future.

  Gray was screwed.

  At nine thirty, they left the cabin, and Gray was antsy. He wanted to get to Jayden.

  Adeline had sent him a list of things Justin, the other boy, liked and disliked, and Gray read it on the way to the car. Standard boy stuff, the colors blue and green, he was curious about space and loved to build with LEGO.

  “See the shrubs at the foot of the mountain?” Darius asked.

  Gray shuddered at the harsh, snow-carrying winds and lifted his gaze from the phone. Said shrubs were almost buried under a blanket of snow and looked dead. “Yeah?” He peered up at the cliffside and determined it had to be at least twenty feet high. There was a ledge here and there with a patch of greenery or a misshapen tree trying to grow outside of the mountain’s shadow.

  “That’s blueberry and blackberry,” Darius said. “There’s wild strawberry and rhubarb behind the cabin too.”

  “It’s a miracle you’ve never had any bears here.”

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t know they’re in the area,” Darius replied. “I’m gonna put up a double-lined fence along my property line when the ground gets warmer.” He gestured out into the forest and made a half circle from one side of the mountain to the other. “It’s no guarantee, but at least it’ll keep smaller predators away for when I get chickens.” Because why wouldn’t he keep chickens in the middle of the forest as live bait? “I need a few cats and a dog or two as well.”

  “And a big sign,” Gray said, drawing a rectangle in the air, “that says ‘Free Buffet for Bears.’”

  Darius let out a laugh and crossed the little bridge over the stream. “If they get past the barbed wire atop a double fence, they’ve fuckin’ earned it.” He dug out his car keys. “When I bought the land and told Pop of my plans, he advised me to get ready for a whole new set of everyday struggles. He grew up on a farm and hated it. It was why he enlisted in the Army.” He paused. “This is how many farmers have lived in Washington since before we became a state. Alongside the wildlife. They take some, we get some back. All of us predators.” He smirked to himself. “I just happen to be a paranoid predator with experience in security and contacts who live and breathe surveillance.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He pointed toward the trees in different directions. “I’ve got cameras and sensors installed.”

  The memory of last night when they’d arrived flashed by in Gray’s mind. He’d spotted Darius turning something on in the tiny closet in the entryway. There’d been a screen of some sort.

  “Technology should be invisible,” Darius said. “Not to mention easily operated. That’s why I didn’t have anything to do with the tech myself. Willow helped me. She was horrified when my original plan included a shotgun. For a month straight, she wore a T-shirt that said ‘Save the Bears from my Brother.’”

  Gray couldn’t help but laugh. It was a bit overwhelming to hear just how many extra miles Darius had gone to in order to make this place safe, but at the same time, it was intriguing and reassuring. Even when Darius was a bartender at the fish camp he owned, he was still a former PMC down to the marrow.

  “She guilted me into buying a tranq gun,” Darius muttered and opened the door to the car. “So once the fences are up—on the off chance a predator gets through—she wants me to sedate the bastards and escort them to the other side. Her words. Meanwhile, she’s never had any issue screaming for us to flush spiders down the toilet.”

  Gray snorted and got in the car. “You’re cute when you get all cranky about how whipped you are. I mean, your sisters say jump, you ask how high.”

  “Easy, knucklehead,” Darius warned. “You’ve barely spent time with them. You don’t know how they work.”

  Gray grinned and shook his head.

  He liked seeing this side of Darius. He was talkative and clearly excited about this home he was making for himself, and it was charming as fuck. More than that, for each day that passed, it became obvious that Darius was definitely a family man. Maybe he didn’t want kids for himself, but he would be a big fat liar if he claimed he wanted to be alone in the woods all the time. He loved his family. He prepared for them.

  They rode in comfortable silence for a while, and Gray spent most of it watching Darius. Coming home had been so good for him. He was at peace here. He cranked up the volume on the radio a little and drummed his fingers along the wheel. Always only one hand. Gray had probably never seen the man steer with both hands.

  The Johnny Cash tune fit Darius’s profile too. Slowly but surely, the puzzle pieces that made up Darius Quinn were coming together to reveal something fucking beautiful.


  Gray had to resist moving closer. He wanted to devour the man.

  Seriously, fuck this bench seat nonsense. They were a traffic hazard for guys who wouldn’t mind expressing their infatuations with blow jobs on the road.

  “What’re you thinkin’?” Darius asked.

  Gray sighed and faced forward. “Road head.”

  Darius barked out a laugh and gave Gray’s thigh a squeeze. “Am I gonna be able to keep up with you?”

  Gray shot him a cocky look at that. “You can try, but…”

  “Guess I’ll have to tire you out with manual labor first. Maybe make you take your shirt off. I’ll watch, of course.”

  What the hell? Gray’s mouth twitched as he tried to keep from laughing. “That’s the gayest thing you’ve ever said.”

  “Well…” Darius shifted in his seat and huffed a chuckle. “Just shut up. I never said I was straight.” He cleared his throat and ignored Gray’s snickers. “You’re different. You’re the first one who’s gotten to see every side of me. Who I am when I take on a case, who I am at home around friends and family, and who I am in bed. I’ve done one and two, never three. Until you.”

  There wasn’t an ounce of humor left.

  Gray swallowed hard and let the flutters flit through him and settle in his stomach.

  Darius puffed out his cheeks with a heavy breath and exhaled. “Evidently, you make me open up, too. Quit it.”

  Gray couldn’t find his words. His mind was on the brink of collapse, so all he did was lean over and kiss Darius’s cheek.

  It was probably time for Gray to stop denying that he was falling hard for the man.

  Which was fucking terrifying.

  Knowing that Mom was working, Gray sent her a text. It was nearly ten o’clock, meaning checkout time at the inn.

  Any chance you still need help at the inn? I’m officially job hunting. I’m gonna call Linda at the bookstore too. Also, can you send me your recipe for cinnamon rolls?

 

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