Groaning, Draven rubbed at his forehead. “Jeez, Riveen. Really?”
“Was the big D too much?”
“I vote yes,” Titus said, coming back into the living room. “Besides, you might end up with an average D, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Riveen gasped. “Uh, there is. I’m totally a size guy. Well, average length is okay. Even a little smaller, but give me a fat dick, one that makes me—”
“Riveen!” Draven snapped, coming to his feet. “Cut it out.”
“Prudes, the both of you,” Riveen groused. “I’m going out to get that massage. You know, an internal one along with a backrub.”
Titus’ groan was laced with enough amusement that Draven decided not to snarl at Riveen.
“See you later. Don’t do anything crazy,” Riveen said as he walked to the door. “You should be all prudish and spend the night talking. Talking’s a good thing.”
Draven was going to kick Riveen’s ass.
Riveen rolled his eyes, as if he knew what Draven was thinking. Then Riveen cackled and left.
“Finally,” Draven muttered. He sighed and sat, more nervous than he’d been minutes earlier. “Um.”
Titus came over and sat beside him. “Was he trying to force you to tell me something?”
Draven gulped and found himself reaching for Titus’ hands.
Titus slid his palms over Draven’s easily, then twined his fingers with Draven’s. “You can tell me anything. Or maybe I should tell you something.”
Draven’s heart pounded and he stared into Titus’ pretty eyes. “I love you.” The words slipped free, sweet and steady, from his mouth. All the panic and nerves settled, as if they exited his body with the admission.
Titus smiled bigger than Draven had ever seen him do, and he leaned in, brushing his lips over Draven’s. “Oh, honey, I love you too. So quick, but I know it’s true. I know it’s good. Right. Strong.”
Draven nodded, then kissed Titus deeper, freeing one hand so he could cup Titus’ jaw. Heat rushed through him, desire and tenderness twining together in a perfect blend.
Draven reveled in the taste of Titus, the feel of him as Titus moved close to touch.
This was what he’d always wanted, what he needed, and Draven wasn’t going to screw it up.
He had to trust in Titus, and in the love they’d both confessed to.
Draven looked like he had something serious on his mind. For some reason, that made Titus nervous. Draven wasn’t likely to be planning on leaving him, but Titus didn’t want to hear anything that might dim the joy of their shared admissions. He cupped Draven’s chin and looked into his eyes. “Whatever it is that you’re thinking about, can you let it go for tonight?”
“But it—”
“Just for tonight,” Titus cut in, his heart hammering with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. “Unless you’re going to admit to being someone—something—horrible, then it can wait. Please. I know you aren’t a monster, so whatever it is that’s weighing on your mind, it can’t be as awful as you think it is. Tell me tomorrow. I’ll listen, and I won’t jump to any conclusions.”
“Define horrible,” Draven said, but his mouth curved up in a crooked smile.
Titus had to taste that grin. He leaned in and brushed his lips over Draven’s.
Heat coiled in his belly and spread to his groin. He kissed Draven again, then again, licking into the warmth of his mouth. Draven’s familiar flavor shot through Titus and his cock grew hard as he deepened the kiss. He moved his hand down, caressing Draven’s neck, his shoulder, down his chest until Titus ran his knuckles over Draven’s left nipple.
Draven moaned and shivered for him. Titus plucked at the stiffening tip as he sucked on Draven’s tongue. Maybe he should have let Draven speak, but Titus needed this bonding with Draven.
He straddled Draven’s lap and buried his other hand in Draven’s hair, palming the back of Draven’s head. Titus held him still as the kiss became rougher, as he pinched and tugged on Draven’s nipple.
Draven began to squirm, not pulling away but pressing into the touches, thrusting his hips, gripping Titus’ ass and kneading it.
Titus kept kissing him, kept teasing his nipple for another minute or so before he began nipping his way down Draven’s neck, sucking up a mark here and there as he tasted Draven’s skin in various places.
Draven’s neck was saltier by his ear than the hollow of his throat. Licking Draven’s collarbone made Draven gasp. Titus bit at the sensitive spot, then resumed his path down to the nipple he’d been playing with. He sealed his lips around it and sucked while pinching the other one.
Draven cursed and bucked. He shoved his hands down the back of Titus’ shorts and pressed his fingers along Titus’ crease.
It felt good, but Titus needed more of Draven.
Titus slid down until he was kneeling between Draven’s legs. He mouthed the deep line dividing Draven’s abs, licked his belly button and kept playing with Draven’s nipples.
Titus left a purple mark on either side of Draven’s belly button, then rubbed his cheek over the hot swell of Draven’s shaft. A wet spot began to spread from where the tip of Draven’s cock pressed against the cotton material.
Titus rumbled and took as much of Draven’s thick cock into his mouth as he could with the shorts in the way.
Draven cried out and bucked. He settled his hands on Titus’ head. “Please.”
That raspy plea was one Titus couldn’t resist. He rubbed his face all over the wet material, feeling the heat of Draven’s cock through it before he unfastened Draven’s shorts.
Draven’s cock was right there for Titus to suck, and he did, even as he tugged, and Draven raised his butt enough for Titus to pull his shorts down. Titus didn’t hesitate—he took Draven’s length, let the thick head into his throat and swallowed as he palmed Draven’s balls.
The sound Draven made was one of desperate need. Titus nodded enough for Draven to get the message. Draven tightened his hold on Titus’ head and began to thrust.
Titus wanted to watch, and he did for a few seconds. Then his own need made itself achingly known. He freed his dick and fisted it, jacking his shaft as he let Draven take control of the blowjob, let Draven grunt and curse, let him fuck deep and rougher. Titus had never given to anyone what he gave to Draven—everything.
Draven cried out and his rhythm vanished. Hot cum pulsed down Titus’ throat, and a second later, Titus came, his head spinning and body tensing before heat encompassed him. He lost himself in the pleasure, in what he felt, and what he’d given to Draven.
And later, when the last of his climax had faded away, and Draven was sleeping beside him after they’d stumbled to bed, Titus vowed that, no matter what Draven told him tomorrow, he’d stand by Draven’s side.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The ringing of a phone woke Draven. He bit back a groan as he opened his eyes. It was too early to face the day—except it was still dark out. He sat up as Titus muttered in his sleep but didn’t wake up. It was Titus’ cell that was making a racket on Draven’s nightstand. He’d plugged his phone and Titus’ in after they’d made love. Seeing their phones side by side had made him feel sappier than he’d ever thought himself capable of being.
Draven grabbed Titus’ phone and thumbed down the volume. He frowned at the lack of caller ID. It was probably a wrong number or some telemarketer from hell. Draven’s gut clenched. It could be Joel.
Draven sat up just as the ringing stopped. The screen went dark. He set the phone down, telling himself not to be paranoid, not to borrow trouble.
The phone lit up again, before Draven’s head even hit the pillow. His heart slammed against his ribs. He glanced at Titus, who still slept peacefully. Draven grabbed Titus’ phone, slipped out of bed and rushed from the room. As soon as he was in the hall, he hit Accept and raised the phone to his ear. He didn’t speak. If Joel were the caller, the last thing Draven wanted to do was anger him by letting him hear a man other than Tit
us answering Titus’ phone.
Draven heard nothing other than the rush of his own pulse. He tried to will himself to calm down. Taking a few deep breaths would have helped but he didn’t want to risk making any noise.
It didn’t matter. A dial tone sounded a moment later. Draven sucked in a sharp breath—and the phone lit up with a call again. No caller ID was available. His gut clenched as he let it ring a second, then third time before he hit Accept once more.
This time the silence sent chills down his spine. It went on for over a minute, then the call was disconnected—and the phone lit up again.
Draven held down the power button and shut the phone off. His palms were sweaty from a mix of nerves and heat. He’d opened the bedroom windows so the breeze could blow through the screens, but the rest of his place was locked up.
He needed to go close those windows. Panic spiked as he darted back into the bedroom to take care of that. He paused at the foot of the bed to study Titus, who slept on unaware of Draven’s fears that Joel was behind the calls. Draven knew he could be wrong, that the calls could have nothing to do with Joel or even Titus.
But he didn’t believe in coincidence, and he certainly wouldn’t risk Titus’ life on the chance that the calls were accidents.
Draven watched the steady rise and fall of Titus’ chest. The need to touch Titus, to hold him and assure himself that Titus was safe, was almost overpowering.
Keeping Titus safe was paramount. Draven walked over to the windows and closed them. He made sure no one was lingering around outside—his night vision was spot-on and there weren’t any good hiding places for someone to utilize.
If it was Joel calling, he can’t possibly know where Titus is, and I am going to go with the calls having been made by Joel. It’s better to be cautious. Especially with the life of the man he loved.
Draven closed the curtains over the windows, something he hardly ever did. The moonlight and stars always soothed him when he looked out at them. Tonight, that wasn’t the case.
He left the room again, then went around to every window and both doors leading outside, making certain they were all locked up tight. He peered out toward the ocean and saw nothing moving on the beach save the skittering crabs.
Titus was safe. Joel wasn’t there. Draven looked down at the phone he still held in his hand. There was no doubt that he’d tell Titus about the calls. As much as Draven would hate to worry him, it was necessary. Titus had every right to know, too. Draven respected him and treating him like he was incapable of dealing with the potential of danger would be an insult at the very least.
Draven had planned to tell Titus about who and what he was in the morning. Now he wondered if he should wait, not for his own sake, but for Titus’.
Draven made his way back to where Titus was sleeping. He’d tell Titus about the calls first and depending on how Titus seemed to feel after that—if he was concerned, very worried, or whatever else he might feel—Draven would bare his soul.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Titus woke to the sensation of being watched. He didn’t panic. He knew Draven’s stare, recognized the way his own body went warm with desire. Titus opened one eye, didn’t see Draven and opened the other. He propped himself up on his elbows, blinking as he turned his head and found Draven standing in the doorway.
“Sorry,” Draven said in a quiet voice. “Didn’t mean to creep you out.”
“You didn’t,” Titus assured him. Does he look like there’s something wrong? Titus’ stomach dropped. Oh. He has something to tell me that he thinks I won’t like. “It’s okay, whatever it is,” Titus said as he sat up fully, the sheet pooling in his lap. “Come in and sit by me. Talk to me.”
Draven took a step, and Titus saw it then, his phone in Draven’s hand. “Did I have a call or something?”
Draven closed the distance between them and sat beside him. “Both. Your phone started ringing in the middle of the night. No caller ID.”
Titus felt the panic begin to form in his core. “Oh? Did you…?” He gulped. “Did you answer it?” If it had been Joel, and he heard another man’s voice… “I changed my number, but I’m easy to find. Wanted to be, for the parents and…” Titus’ throat tightened, and he glanced down at his hands.
“I didn’t speak, but neither did whoever was calling. I didn’t want to wake you up. I should have, instead of answering the phone. Well, sort of answering it.” Draven tossed the phone down by Titus’ hip. “Maybe it was nothing. I haven’t turned it back on to see if there are messages or anything.”
Titus nodded. He didn’t reach for the phone but stared at it like it was a poisonous snake in his midst.
“Do you want me to check the phone?” Draven asked.
Titus took a stuttering breath. “No, I should. I—I’m acting like an idiot.”
Draven placed his hands over Titus’ and waited until Titus looked him in the eyes to continue. “You are not. Your ex was a violent, dangerous man, and I doubt he’s changed any. He’s probably not going to leave you alone so easily.”
Titus’ eyes burned. “Why not? Why wouldn’t he say screw it, and leave me alone? He fucking went to prison for what he did!”
Draven pulled Titus right into his arms. “People like him don’t care. Now, maybe I’m wrong. Might not be him at all. He could have learned something in there, for all I know. I just—I think being prepared is wise.”
Titus nodded, his cheek rubbing against Draven’s warm chest. “It is. He can’t find me here, but it would be easy enough for him to track down where I teach and live.”
Draven scooped the phone up with one hand. “Well, let’s turn this on, then we can call Stacy and Michelle.”
“Yeah, we need to call them. They’re already aware of the situation and are keeping an eye out on my place. Stacy even found Joel’s mugshot, so she knows what he looks like.” Titus laughed shakily. “She also stalked his family online, so she has all their social media information and pics of Joel.”
“You have amazing friends.” Draven kissed Titus’ cheek, then turned the phone on. He held it to where Titus could see it when all the missed calls and voicemail notices came on. “Damn it,” Draven growled.
Titus took the phone from him. “He used to do this, you know. Call me non-stop if I didn’t answer right away. I’d get back from a visit with my folks or from a class, or even the grocery store, and I’d have dozens of calls. He never would leave a message, though. Later on, he said he wasn’t stupid enough to leave evidence.” Titus hand trembled and he almost dropped the phone.
“Fucker,” Draven snarled. “I’ll tear him to pieces and feed him to the sharks. I know some—”
Titus waited for him to continue since it seemed an odd place to stop talking, but after several seconds, it became clear that Draven wasn’t going to finish what he’d been saying.
Rather than push, and not taking Draven’s threat seriously, Titus forced himself to look at all the missed calls. Every one of them lacked a number and caller ID. He played the voicemails, at least the first few. “Nothing but silence.”
“Do you think it’s him?”
Titus began deleting the calls and voicemails. “I can’t prove it, but I think it’s best to believe it is. Better safe than sorry.” Or dead. He’ll kill me if he can.
Draven stiffened and tipped Titus’ chin up so that Titus looked at him. “How dangerous is he?”
“It’s like you read my mind,” Titus murmured before he could think better of it.
Draven’s expression darkened. “He’s not getting near you.”
Titus wished he could believe that, but he knew Joel, knew his anger, his determination, his fists and boots and—
Draven kissed him, a gentle brush of lips that snapped Titus out of his rapidly building fear. Titus moved closer, pressing as close to Draven as he could. As much as Draven wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to protect Titus from Joel, not all the time. Titus would have to go back to work, return home, and if Joel was lookin
g for him, he’d find him.
Draven slipped his hand back to Titus’ nape and deepened the kiss.
Titus let go of his worries and gave himself to Draven, needing him so much, nothing else mattering at the moment.
But Draven eased back and rubbed his nose against Titus’, a little affectionate move that added to the love he felt for Draven.
“I have friends who will help watch for him,” Draven said. “As much as I want to lay you down and make love with you, we need to discuss this, and…and I have to tell you something. About me.”
Titus wanted to protest, but he could tell Draven needed to get whatever he wanted to confess off his chest. Rather than move away, however, Titus simply leaned his head against Draven’ shoulder and said, “Tell me whatever it is. I don’t believe for one second you’ve done something bad, so what is it?”
Draven huffed. “Not sure you’ll believe me. It’s going to sound crazy. I’m not. It’s not.”
Titus kissed his neck. “I trust you. Tell me, then we can make love, then deal with everything else.”
“You might not want me after I tell you.”
Titus sat up then. He studied Draven. “What could you possibly tell me that would make me not want you? Are you a…Republican?”
Draven didn’t even grin at the joke. “No. I’m a shifter.”
Titus shook his head. Those words did not compute. “What? You—what?” All he could think about were werewolves and things like that, things that didn’t exist.
“I’m a manta ray shifter. So is Riveen. He was messing with you the other day.”
Titus scrambled out of bed, but he didn’t run off. “I’m not running away. Just…er. Shifters don’t exist.” How could Draven be delusional, and how did Titus miss it?
Draven looked incredibly sad as he lowered his head. “We do. We always have. My—I had one serious lover, and he threatened to expose us. Secrecy is the only reason we aren’t extinct. And now I’ve told you, because I love you and want to be honest with you. I have no reason to lie.”
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