Dark Around the Edges

by Cari Z

  Out in the main gym, Kelso and the other boys were waiting nervously. When Jackie’s scream echoed down the hallway, they all winced. “The fuck’s happening?” Kelso demanded.

  “He’s having some sort of nervous breakdown, man,” Rio said apologetically. “Not a good day for him to talk to me, apparently. Stay cool, bro.” He walked out of the gym and into an alley across the street, ducking behind a dumpster. His hand tapped the tooth in his back pocket. Not the token he’d intended, and frankly, not enough. But that was okay. He just had to wait for Jackie to collect himself and send out one or two of his guys to make him feel better by killing Rio.

  One minute went by. Two. Five. Rio began to suspect he’d broken this guy. But no, nope, here came two strapping young men with a spring in their step and murder in their eyes. Rio felt a little bad when he saw who it was. He’d been hoping to take out the bodyguard, but Jackie sent Kelso and Billy the Kid instead. Both of them wore shoulder holsters under their jackets, and their expressions were deadly serious.

  Well. It was going to be deadly serious for them, at any rate. They walked fast down the street toward the Strip and Rio, after taking a moment to get his mind right, followed them.

  Chapter Nine

  Rio was exhausted by the time he got back to the motel room. It was hot out there, and it was hard to find a place to stash two bodies in the middle of Vegas when you didn’t have a car. Rio ended up going with a dumpster behind one of the seedier casinos, after he took what he needed from them and made sure to destroy any evidence that might lead back to him. It had been a long time since Rio had been caught by anyone, but it still paid to be careful in this age of constant surveillance.

  It was about nine at night, and Rio stank like sweat and garbage and the harsh cleansers that he'd used to wash away the splash of blood he couldn’t avoid. He wanted a shower and a bed, and to hang out with his dog and not think for a while. He knew better than to expect Devon to stick around when they were in Vegas. This city was built for that man.

  Rio was therefore surprised to find Devon lying on his stomach on one of the double beds, watching an old episode of Burn Notice. Maggie was curled into a ball in the small of his back, looking sound asleep. The volume was turned way down. Devon looked over at Rio with a question in his eyes.

  “Pure shouldn’t even be open yet. How’d you finish so soon?”

  “I went to Jackie Miranda’s office and told him I was looking for work.” Rio pulled off the thin cotton button-down he was wearing over his black t-shirt and threw it in the direction of his bag.

  Devon looked skeptical. “And he swallowed that?”

  “Took a little force feeding, but I got what I needed out of him.” More like out of his thugs, but Devon didn’t need to know about that until tomorrow. The back pocket of Rio’s jeans was only slightly distended from its cargo, but it felt unnaturally heavy. “How’d it go with the magician?” Rio looked down at his t-shirt, grimaced, then pulled that off as well.

  “Fine.” Devon sounded distracted, and when Rio glanced over at him he could see Devon’s eyes were fixed firmly on his pecs. “I mean…yeah. Fine. I got something that should show Lynlis how keen we are to—oh my god, you can’t just strip in front of me and expect me not to do anything about it,” he snapped suddenly, rolling off the bed and onto his feet. Maggie barked disconsolately at losing her warm pillow so abruptly, but neither of them listened to her.

  “I didn’t exactly expect you to be here when I got back,” Rio said, but he wasn’t backing away or putting Devon aside. Rio was good at controlling his urges, all of his urges, but he’d never minded a willing partner, especially not when that partner was Devon. They were good together, despite their impermanence, or maybe that just added to the dynamic. Whatever it was between them, when Devon looked at him like there was nothing in his mind beyond Rio and all the things he wanted them to do together, Rio was captivated.

  “I didn’t feel like going out,” Devon murmured, tracing one finger down the middle of Rio’s chest. Devon’s pupils were huge, almost blotting out the whites of his eyes. His lips were wet and red, and as he leaned forward Rio anticipated the first of a series of fast, hard moves that would end up catapulting them toward the nearest flat surface.

  Instead he got a kiss, just there at the base of his throat, soft and tender. It was…odd. Not because it didn’t feel good, but because it was so different. Devon was usually only so simply affectionate by the end of a sex marathon, not at the beginning when he needed it so badly.

  One kiss was followed by another, and another. Rio shut his eyes and put his hands on Devon’s shoulders, rubbed them down the length of his arms and back and pulled him in close. His skin was hot, and he could feel Devon burning beneath his own clothes. Devon rubbed against his body, hitching his hips like he’d climb right up Rio if given half a chance.

  “I’m filthy,” Rio said, tipping his fingers up beneath Devon’s chin.

  “I like filthy,” Devon assured him.

  “Not this kind of filthy you don’t.” Not after diving in a dumpster. What was that, mashed banana on his pants? Maybe mango? Seemed too fluorescent to be fruit.

  “Then let me clean you up.” Devon wrapped his arms around Rio’s neck, raised himself up onto his toes, and pressed their lips together. It was…

  This was passion. It was more than hunger and desire, there was real affection behind it. Lust was in Devon’s blood, but passion could be elusive for a cambion. Rio would know, he’d met more than his fair share over the years. A single creature more sharply divided in two had never existed, and most cambions resolved one way or the other at a much earlier age than Devon’s twenty-three. Devon had been fighting to maintain this balance for a decade, and Rio could hardly blame him for latching onto Rio as a safe place to let go of his inhibitions.

  Devon’s tongue slid demandingly into Rio’s mouth, stroking him from the inside out. He consumed Rio, retreating to nip at his lips one moment before diving back in the next. Rio lifted him higher and was pleasantly unsurprised when Devon wrapped his legs around his waist, his erection an eager hardness against his stomach. “Let’s go take a shower,” Devon suggested between kisses.

  Rio couldn’t think of any reason to say no. He walked them into the bathroom and wished for the first time that he’d let Devon convince him to pick a more upscale hotel, because while their room did have a shower it was so small that his head was going to stick up above the curtain, and with the two of them in there it would definitely be standing room only.

  Devon seemed to track what he was thinking. “We’ll fit,” he insisted. “I’m very flexible.” And he swung his feet up to touch Rio’s shoulders to demonstrate.

  “Jesus, yes you are.” Rio reluctantly set his acrobatic partner down. “Gotta finish getting undressed first, though.” Devon nodded and whipped off his designer suit in record time, leaving it in a neat little folded pile on top of the toilet. Rio slid his gritty jeans down his legs, briefs going with, and toed off his socks. His clothes stayed on the floor, and as soon as he was clear of them Devon was back in his arms. His cock was rosy and flushed, leaking from the head, and Rio automatically reached for it.

  “No,” Devon said, stretching around him to turn on the water. “I want to come with you inside me.”

  “You can come plenty of times in one night,” Rio reminded him.

  “And I want all of them to be with me stuffed full of your cock.” Devon smiled, and it wasn’t coy, it wasn’t seductive; it was excited and happy. “I haven’t felt you inside of me for hours and hours, and I miss it. I want you to make me feel you for weeks.”

  It would take a lot more damage than Rio was willing to dish out to leave Devon feeling him for weeks, given how fast the kid tended to heal, but he was willing to play along. It wasn’t exactly a hardship to fuck Devon, after all.

  “I can do that, Dev.” He picked him up again and headed into the shower.

  The warmth of the water against Rio’s back w
as nothing compared to the rising heat between him and Devon. He nestled his cock right into the crease of Devon’s ass and Devon moaned, breathing hot and heavy against Rio’s neck before sinking his teeth into the meat of his shoulder. Rio pressed Devon’s back against the wall of the shower and really leaned into him, putting his much heavier weight against that slight body and taking Devon’s breath away. Devon opened his mouth with a gasp and tilted his head back. “Perfect,” he whispered. “I love it when you hold me down.”

  “You don’t know perfect yet, Dev,” Rio told him. He splayed his hands against Devon’s pert ass and squeezed, enjoying the taut grip of him and the way the pressure felt against his dick.

  “In me,” Devon begged. “I want it.”

  “Not yet.” He wasn’t about to get in there without prepping Devon first. And it was hard to convince himself to move his hands, because Devon’s skin was silky smooth and he was desperate for Rio. That last was an aphrodisiac all on its own.

  They kissed again, softer this time but no less eager. “In me,” Devon repeated. Rio could feel the shape of the words against his lips, supple and vibrant like all of Devon was. “Please, do it quickly.” He let go for a moment, fumbled around until he found the tiny complimentary bottle of shampoo/conditioner that Rio hadn’t expected to find in a place like this. It was of no use to him, being bald, and Devon had probably already bought nicer stuff for himself.

  Devon popped the cap open, then slipped it into one of Rio’s hands. “Do it.”

  It wasn’t easy juggling a slippery Devon and a tiny bottle long enough to really get his fingers slick, but Rio managed it after a minute. He dropped the bottle and rubbed the pads of two of his fingers around the rim of Devon’s hole. Devon responded by licking a path up the line of his jaw and around the shell of his ear, and Rio decided to take that as encouragement. He pushed the tips of both fingers inside of Devon, just barely. That tight ring of muscle squeezed around them, but it only took a moment before Devon was relaxed again and Rio went deeper. Up to the first knuckle, then the second, and for as tight as Devon was initially, he was taking it like, well, like exactly what he was. Like a creature made to strive for pleasure, to accept and control it. Devon made no bones about what he was, but he was so much more than this. Rio hoped that he knew it.

  Devon wasn’t in the mood for reassurance right now; he was in the mood for sex. He clenched down on Rio’s fingers, rhythmically relaxing and contracting, a physical sign of his desire. His cock leaked a glistening string of sticky fluid against Rio’s abs, and he was practically hyperventilating. Okay, then. Consider him prepped. Rio pulled out his fingers, wiped the extra slick on his cock and pushed in before Devon had more than a single moment to pout.

  Rio was bigger than two fingers. A lot bigger. He’d spent half an hour prepping the last man he’d fucked who wasn’t Devon, using his fingers and tongue and finally a toy. He even had to be careful with women, fingering them or licking their pussies until they were wet and pliable and begging. Getting the head inside took a few moments, and when he breached Devon the cambion screamed, one short, high-pitched burst of noise. It wasn’t pain though; it was pure pleasure, and as Rio slowly but steadily sank in to the base, every inch of him scraping over Devon’s prostate, Devon’s jaw flexed, his eyes squeezed shut and he came, gasping, covering both of their bellies with his hot, pearling release. Rio gritted his teeth and rode it out, pressing his face to Devon’s damp hair and breathing in the scent of him as he tried to ignore the delicious pressure surrounding his cock.

  “More,” Devon panted once he was capable of speech. “Again. Just like this, I can take it, I want to.”

  “I can do that,” Rio said. He lifted Devon up a few inches, just a few, then let him sink back down. Up, down, his hips rolling and swiveling in a way that would do an incubus proud, Rio gave Devon exactly what he needed and drove himself almost crazy holding back. Devon’s body was so tight, so hot, all slick and clinging. Devon seemed as if he couldn’t breathe unless the air he took came from Rio’s lungs, so they were stuck together, one organism moving in unison as Devon clutched his shoulders while Rio fucked into him harder and harder.

  Rio could feel himself getting ready to let go, felt the swollen heat of Devon’s channel start to clench, and he managed to free a hand and stroke his lover off as he came, with silent desperation, his body burning so hot that he had to be almost burnt away by now. It felt so good it hurt, like the kind of pleasure he’d sought in his guilt-ridden youth. Devon drove him to masochism like no one else.

  Devon came again as well, but this time his eyes were locked on Rio’s face, mesmerized by the sight of him. He waited until Rio’s breathing evened out and his grip went from bruising to simply cradling before he kissed him one last time and leaned away, licking at the trace of blood on his gums. Rio pulled out and set Devon down on his feet, gently, and watched with a faint smile as Devon reached between his thighs and ran his fingers through the flood of come slipping from his ass. His expression was pure satisfaction, and Rio snorted a little laugh.

  “Pleased with yourself?”

  “Mmmyesss,” Devon said, purring like a kitten. “That’s so…that was so…hhmmmm.”

  “So ‘hmm,’ huh? Boy, you are not articulate after you get off.” Rio reached for the washcloth and soaped it up. “Turn around.”

  “Hmm?”

  Rio rolled his eyes and manhandled Devon around. He ran the sudsy cloth over his lover’s neck and shoulders and down his back. He went slower over his ass, taking time to enjoy the feel of it, and the tiny tremors that were still playing out in Devon’s legs. He wiped away the messy mixture of come and shampoo, then turned Devon around and did his front. Devon was still pretty much blissed out, but his eyes sharpened a little as Rio rubbed the washcloth over his cock, which twitched gamely.

  “I want a bed,” Rio warned him. “I’m getting pruney in here.”

  “Funny, I want a bed too. We can share. It’s only polite!” he added when Rio lifted an eyebrow. “Maggie’s the only girl in our little cabal, she should get her own bed. I’m more than happy to share.”

  “I’m sure you are, but that doesn’t mean that I am.”

  Devon looked at him with stupidly big blue Bambi eyes, silently pleading, and Rio frowned. “Don’t even, Dev.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t…do that, that thing. The eye thing.” Devon’s eyes went even wider. It was intolerable. “Jesus, fine, one bed, just put those away before I’m tempted to go rescue hapless woodland creatures or something.”

  “You know you love it,” Devon said smugly, stepping out of the shower and grabbing the towel—the only towel, damn it—and drying off before hanging it back on the rack. “Do you have garbage bags?”

  “In the side pocket of the duffel.”

  “I’ll put your dirty clothes into one. We can go to a laundromat tomorrow after we meet with Lynlis.”

  “Thanks.” Rio would have to remember to retrieve his prizes later. He cleaned himself off, swiped perfunctorily at his skin with the damp towel, then headed out into the bedroom. Maggie was asleep again, and he paused to give her a gentle scratch behind the ears before joining Devon on the other bed. Devon latched onto him immediately, pulling Rio down so he could use one of his shoulders as a pillow. He tangled their legs together and wrapped his top arm across Rio’s stomach, then sighed contentedly.

  “Sometimes this is my favorite part.”

  “Favorite part of what?” Rio asked, resigned to cuddling for the rest of the night.

  “Of intimacy. The rest of it is great, but this is the part where you really get the chance to just be…satisfied, you know? Together.” Devon shrugged, a little awkwardly given his position. “Usually I end up alone.”

  That kind of hurt Rio a little. “You shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t mind, I just like this better. With you, at least.” He kissed Rio’s clavicle, letting his lips linger on the sharp edges and the little bump in the m
iddle. “I’m glad you were my back-up for this. All of the teams are good, but you’re the best.”

  “Oh yeah. I’m so good, they put an ‘I’ in ‘team’ just for me,” Rio drawled.

  “You’re Safeguard’s own Chuck Norris, baby,” Devon said with a smile. “My personal favorite is, ‘Rio is never late, because time slows the fuck down for him.’”

  “ʻRio’s head is so shiny, it can be seen from outer space.’”

  “ʻGod used to be called ‘Rio’ too, but he had to change his name when Rio told him that the R and the I were off-limits.’”

  Rio chuckled. “We live on a steady diet of bullshit in this line of work.”

  “Maybe, but I like it.”

  “You’re good at it.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “What were you doing before they called you in for this job?” They didn’t usually ask about each other’s lives outside of work, but Rio was genuinely curious.

  “I was doing my folks a favor,” Devon said, snuggling a little closer. “They needed help tracking down one of their new foster kids, and I had the time.”

  “Do you still live with them?”

  “Dude, no,” he scoffed. “I moved out when I went to college, but they’ve kept a room for me. And actually, I really like being with them. They’re both awesome.”

  “High praise for parents.”

  “My dads are the best,” he said simply. “What were you doing before you got called in to save my ass?”

  “Looking at the stars.”

  It was a runaround answer and Rio knew it, but he really couldn’t say any more than that. Fortunately Devon knew better than to push. “Sounds nice,” he yawned.

  “It was.” Rio pulled the blanket up to cover both of them, then kissed the top of Devon’s head. “Go to sleep, Dev.”

  “Call me that thing again?”

  “What thing?”

  “That Italian thing,” Devon said sleepily, burrowing a little deeper into his embrace. “You said it last time.”