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When the Dead Speak

Page 12

by Bailey Bradford


  Sev blinked his eyes open, the lids heavy enough that he considered giving in and going back to sleep. He turned his head and, even through sleep-blurred vision, or maybe because of it, Sev saw something soft flicker across Laine’s eyes as he smiled lazily. That fleeting emotion was gone when Sev’s vision cleared, replaced by a need that had his dick aching, a bead of moisture welling from the slit.

  “Morning.”

  Laine’s lips curled into a smile that looked more predatory than anything else. His thick cock rubbed against Sev’s hip, searing a trail of liquid need over his skin. Sev felt disoriented and was confused by that. Then he got it—the feeling causing him so much confusion was one of shyness, something he definitely wasn’t familiar with. Yet, somehow, with this strong, demanding man watching him, seeing into places Sev was afraid himself to look, he felt vulnerable and nervous…and, God damn it, shy like a blushing virgin. Something else was going on between them, more than just fucking, and it knocked Sev off balance, tore down his usual footloose façade—and scared the shit out of him. He had to find a way back to safer ground.

  Sev let his eyes drift nearly shut, willing everything down except the need to fuck. He could handle keeping this on a physical level. That was one thing he knew how to do, to work his body, focus on the pleasure he could give his lover and, in doing so, himself as well. Sharing that was familiar and he was damned good at it. Sev sent Laine a look intended to melt the man on the spot, to stop his brain and kick-start his long, lean body into high gear, backing up his message with a writhing move and greedy hands. Only…it didn’t seem to work.

  A low growl vibrated in Laine’s chest, his lips curling down and his eyes narrowing with displeasure. Sev found his wrists gripped bruisingly in Laine’s big hands, then jerked up and pinned together above his head. That Laine could subdue him so easily set something needy free in Sev even as it shook him, inside and out—and, God, he was now only using one hand to lock Sev’s wrists in place. One very big, calloused hand. Laine’s other equally rough hand gripped Sev’s jaw, fingers digging deep enough to fire off a pleasant ache.

  “No games, baby. No hiding behind your little safety net, no locking me out and keeping me at a distance.” Laine’s eyes pinned Sev as surely as his hand did, the gray softening and heating to a silver that swirled with things Sev wanted but was terrified to reach for, to accept. Sev felt hypnotised by that molten color, sucked in by the promises offered. His heartbeat sped up in a moment of panic, his breath skittering as Sev fought to find the familiar ground he’d always stood on—fucking because it felt good, because it was all any man had ever expected, too often all he thought he was good for.

  Laine’s hand tightened on his wrists, the grinding pain of bone on bone shattering Sev’s attempt to gather his reserves. The hand gripping Sev’s jaw tightened as well, Laine’s wrist flicking so that Sev was forced to shake his head to give in to the pressure exerted by his lover’s hand.

  “I said no. No more, Severo. You’re gonna look at me, see me and feel me. I’m not just another fuck.” Laine caught Sev’s lower lip between his teeth, tugging and nipping until Sev shook with desire, his body arching up and his mind unable to fully concentrate on formulating a plan to keep him safe.

  Any last-second bid to seal some part of himself away failed as Laine bit hard enough to sting, making Sev’s eyes pop wide open when he’d thought to hide behind his lids. The second those steely eyes locked onto his, every bit of the urge to protect himself died an instant death, and that warm, flickering something he’d seen in Laine’s gaze moments ago seemed to slip into him and fill him, soaking into places Sev had refused to acknowledge, desires and hopes he’d shoved ruthlessly away.

  “That’s it, just like that.” Laine’s lips brushed softly against Sev’s tormented ones, the words spoken into the swollen flesh. “I’m not demanding anything you don’t want to give, baby. You just didn’t know you wanted to give it—until now. To me.”

  Laine’s tongue slicked over Sev’s lips, the tip parting them for a languorous kiss that left him breathless, panting and wanting more. He didn’t even catch on to the fact that his wrists had been released until his back was bowing as his nipples were plucked, squeezed and tugged, sending spirals of heat straight to his balls. Sev couldn’t have held back his groan had his life depended on it. A sweet lethargy filled him, but he forced his arms up and embraced his lover. The feel of smooth, hard flesh, the rippling muscles of Laine’s back under his hands dragged another needy sound from Sev.

  Time seemed to stop as every part of Sev’s body was licked, kissed, or caressed—sometimes all three. His body hummed with passion, his dick was painfully hard, and while all the foreplay had been extraordinary, he craved Laine inside him.

  “Please, please Laine.” It wasn’t the first time those words had been dragged from Sev’s lips this morning, so he added, “I need you.” And Laine listened, opening a condom package and covering his cock before applying lube. He hitched Sev’s legs up over his shoulders and slid his knees under Sev until his opening was kissing the tip of Laine’s cock. Without being told, Sev kept his eyes locked with Laine’s as Laine pressed in and filled him slowly. He watched the emotions flicker across Laine’s face, darken the gray of the man’s eyes until they looked like tarnished silver, and knew this was something other than the two of them fucking, scratching an itch, just as last night had been different. As Laine lowered himself over Sev, Sev’s breath hitched as he pushed away the remaining fear of this—giving himself over, trusting this man to keep him safe in every way.

  Sev offered his lips to his lover and moaned as his mouth was plundered, devastated and owned. Sev gave it up, his control and fears, everything he’d held back and everything he’d hidden from. The kiss gentled and thrusts of tongue were matched by Laine’s hips as Sev clung to his lover, hands holding on to Laine’s broad back despite the sweat slicking his skin. It was beautiful, tender and sweet, but Sev needed more. His balls were nearly cramping, his dick steadily leaking. He needed to come.

  As if he knew Sev’s thoughts, Laine’s kiss again turned nearly brutal, the sting of teeth on Sev’s bottom lip felt so perfect. Laine tightened his arms around Sev and buried his face in Sev’s neck, sucking strongly as his hips began pumping a frantic beat. Sev tried to meet Laine’s thrusts, but the man’s weight held him down, forcing Sev to submit to Laine’s rhythm. Frustrated, aching, Sev turned his head and bit Laine’s jaw at the same time he dug his fingers into his lover’s back.

  Laine got the message. His hands clutched at the backs of Sev’s shoulders, his teeth tugged at the skin where shoulder and neck met, and his cock… Sev didn’t bother trying to muffle his yell as Laine pounded into him, his heavy balls slapping against Sev’s ass almost continually as he worked Sev’s hole. Sev couldn’t do anything but try to breathe and hold on for the ride, his body heating and tingling, a feeling that surpassed any ecstasy Sev had ever thought he’d known filling him. Laine’s furry, hard abs rubbed over Sev’s dick just right, and Sev thought he might have yelled again, might have babbled a string of words and promises as his release ripped through him. Then Laine pushed himself up, his head thrown back as he buried his cock to the hilt. Sev opened his eyes, vision clearing just in time to take in the strained, corded muscles of Laine’s neck and shoulders, the convulsive bobbing of the man’s Adam’s apple as he pressed even farther into Sev.

  In that moment, as Sev stared at his lover caught in his release, a shudder racked Sev. It felt like he was being shattered into a million pieces, his fears and doubts dispersed as he was put back together and cocooned in the warmth of emotion blooming for this one man. It felt safe, sacred, and Sev didn’t want to fight it any more. As Laine trembled above him, in him, Sev’s eyes burned with the intensity of this newly acknowledged feeling, and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t run, wouldn’t let this man go.

  * * * *

  Laine sat across the table from Sev, their uneaten breakfast pushed aside as they discu
ssed the prior day’s events. There was a soft look in Sev’s eyes that had been there since their early morning love-making that Laine wanted to ask about, but fear of his lover’s reaction kept Laine on the subject of who had broken into his home yesterday. Between the fear of chasing away that look and fear for Sev’s safety, Laine found himself feeling oddly vulnerable, and he didn’t like it.

  Worries about his job, the reaction of people in the small town of McKinton just didn’t seem that important, not when compared to the fact he could have lost Sev yesterday—could still lose him if Laine couldn’t find and stop the man who seemed fixated on him. After what he’d found on his sheets yesterday once he and Zeke had made their way into the bedroom, Laine had no doubt he was the object of some sick fuck’s obsession.

  Sev sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, rubbing agitatedly at his biceps. “So, you’re saying this guy left… He, uh, jerked off on your side of the bed and…”

  “Yeah.” Laine couldn’t do much more than grunt the word as his throat tightened in anger. The ‘and’ that Sev had trailed off after saying was the worst part. When Zeke and Laine had found the sticky mess on his sheets, that had been a vulgar violation. But seeing the side of the bed where Sev had laid only moments before, slashed into bits of springs and material… The threat seemed pretty clear. It made Laine wonder if what had happened to Conner three years prior hadn’t been a random act, if, just maybe, Conner had been targeted because he’d been Laine’s lover. Was that what Conner was trying to tell him, why he knew someone was coming after Laine?

  Maybe the police—himself included—had been wrong all along, and the sick fuck who’d killed Conner had had three long years to brood about Laine escaping, years in which he’d planned and honed the need for revenge. The thought was almost too painful to consider, because if it was true, then inadvertently or not, Laine had been responsible for Conner’s death. But it felt right, as if Laine had found the piece missing from a hellish jigsaw puzzle. The pain of that realization hit him as a physical sensation, his stomach cramping so hard Laine gasped and doubled over, vision dimming as he wrapped his arms around his middle as if to squeeze the feeling out.

  He didn’t hear Sev’s chair slide back or the padding of feet as his lover ran to him. There was simply, suddenly, strong arms around his neck, and Sev was kneeling on the floor in front of Laine, trying to wedge himself in between Laine’s knees.

  “Laine, no, no. No, baby, don’t do this.” The words were breathed against Laine’s ear, soft lips pressing to comfort and console from his ear to his forehead, then kisses were placed on his eyelids and finally his lips. “It wasn’t your fault, he doesn’t blame you.”

  Laine’s eyes burned and he kept them sealed tight, refusing to break down. The sound of the kitchen door slamming open, of booted feet hurrying across to the table registered faintly, then Laine felt two more pairs of arms embrace him—and that soft, sweet scent that meant Zeke’s mama had decided to pop in. Laine had a second’s clarity to wonder why all the drama had suddenly kicked in, then Sev repeated the last part of his sentence and the wounded animal sound that filled the room came from Laine, was torn from him in an almost violent fit as he finally broke.

  Three years of pain and anguish poured from him, of mourning he’d held in because he couldn’t let it show, rushing to the surface and demanding acknowledgment. It tore at his guts, leaving trails of scalding anger and guilt, and later, Laine would think the only thing that had held him together, kept him from exploding and his mind from splintering, was the three men who held him as he fell apart and, maybe, the soft breeze that kept swirling over him as he struggled through this nightmare.

  Sev held on to Laine after he stopped shuddering, after the awful sounds had ceased and Zeke and Brendon had quietly slipped away. Sev had seen the understanding flare in Laine’s eyes, knew the moment his lover comprehended that, more than likely, the psycho who had broken in yesterday was the same man who had killed Conner. And he’d known the exact second when Laine had tried and convicted himself, condemning himself for Conner’s death. But Conner didn’t blame him. Laine hadn’t known, any more than Conner had before the sick fuck torturing had told him, that Laine was the man’s target, his obsession—just his.

  Even then, Conner had blamed no one other than his killer, but he’d known what it would do to Laine to discover the truth. He’d known, and for that reason, Conner had done his best to hang around, so to speak. Conner just hadn’t been able to make contact with Laine, not until recently. Sev suspected it had become possible when Laine had acknowledged the existence of Zeke’s mother’s ghost. Once Laine had accepted that ghosts, spirits, were real, that had made it possible for Laine to be receptive to other spirits. Namely Conner’s.

  Laine’s breaths were steady when Sev leaned back and waited for his lover to meet his eyes. The pain in that silvery gaze would have brought Sev to his knees had he not already been on them.

  “I meant it, you know, he meant it. Conner has never blamed you and didn’t want you to blame yourself. That’s why he couldn’t go to…wherever it is souls go.” Sev had to take a steadying breath himself before he continued. “That, and…he didn’t want you hurt. He didn’t want his murderer to kill you, too. Conner loved you, Laine.” It hurt Sev to say it, but it was the truth, and Laine needed to know it, remember it. Believe it.

  The fact that this strong, good man was looking at Sev with such a need to believe those words buried the pain it caused Sev to speak them. He would do anything to take away the guilt and anguish his lover felt, and, while Sev might be new to the whole concept of possibly loving a man instead of just fucking around, he was surprised he didn’t feel threatened by the knowledge that Laine had loved Conner and vice versa. Laine had done nothing to make Sev feel like he was second best.

  Sev brought one hand to Laine’s cheek and cupped it, drawing his lover closer for a kiss. The soft press of hard lips, the warmth of Laine’s breath as he opened and allowed Sev’s tongue to slip inside, nearly undid Sev right then and there. If he’d had any doubt about how Laine felt for him, that kiss would have eradicated it instantly, but Sev didn’t doubt, nor did he doubt himself. When the kiss ended, Sev felt a tingling that went from his head clear to his toes. He wanted nothing more than to take his man back to bed, but doubted it was possible.

  “Do you have to go in today?” He tried not to plead when he asked, but didn’t think he’d been very successful. Laine’s eyes seemed a little less pain-filled, though, and that gave Sev hope that his lover would not let himself be buried in guilt.

  “I do.” Laine’s voice was scratchy and rough, as though it hadn’t been used in years. “I have to talk to Deputy Nixon since I called him over to the scene, see if he sent off the evidence we gathered, and…” Laine’s lips tipped down and Sev started to ask what was wrong, well, what else was wrong, when Laine continued. “I’m pretty sure he figured out that you and I… That I’m gay. It may be okay with him, might not, but there will be other people who have a problem with it.”

  Somehow, Sev had managed not to think about that, but the reality of the complications for Laine started manifesting themselves in Sev’s head. It wasn’t pretty, and it would be much worse for Laine than for him. Sev scrambled for a solution.

  “We can say that I didn’t have anywhere else to go, that you slept on the couch or in the guest room, or—”

  Laine clamped a big hand over Sev’s mouth. “No. I am not ashamed of who I am. Maybe I was afraid of what would happen before you came along,” Laine moved his hand to stroke down Sev’s cheek and his neck, resting at the top of Sev’s shoulder. “And I didn’t have any reason to let anyone know besides Zeke and Brendon, but I won’t hide. I did that with Conner, we both did.” Laine shook his head, his eyes never leaving Sev’s. “Never again. Not for my job, not to make some bigoted people happy, not for anyone or anything. We clear?”

  Sev thought his heart would burst with happiness even as his head tried
to argue. “But you will probably lose your job at the very least, and—”

  A hard kiss cut him off. “And nothing. I was voted in to this position and, unless it’s legal to do a recall election, I can’t be fired easily. No matter what happens, the decision on how to handle it is mine. People can accept me or not, I will deal with them accordingly.” Another kiss, this one only marginally gentler. “Now, I need to get ready for work. You stay with Zeke and Brendon, and I mean with them. I don’t want you alone any more than is absolutely necessary, okay?”

  Now Sev felt happy and mushy, and he was pretty sure there was a sappy-ass smile on his face as well, and he didn’t mind at all. “Yeah, okay.”

  Chapter Nine

  To say he felt raw inside would have been an understatement, but Laine didn’t let it interfere with his job, or the reality that he would be facing within moments of walking into his office. Even though Deputy Nixon had been the only other person called to the scene at Laine’s house, and Laine doubted Nixon would talk, word would get around. It always did, as if it were carried in the wind to the biggest and most vindictive of gossips. He would deal with it, if need be, after he made another call to Detective Montoya.

  Doreen was at her desk and greeted Laine with her usual enthusiasm. She handed Laine a stack of messages as he walked by on the way to his office and promised to bring him his morning coffee. He’d learned there was no use protesting it. Doreen would snap his head off if he dared to get his own coffee. Laine sat at his desk and found the paper with Detective Montoya’s number on it fluttering across his desk. He snatched it up and felt an absurd urge to grin.

 

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