Stag and the Ash (The Rowan Harbor Cycle Book 5)

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Stag and the Ash (The Rowan Harbor Cycle Book 5) Page 3

by Sam Burns


  “Your chest hair is as bleached as your tips. You’re a werewolf-movie stereotype, going around all shirtless and buff.” He let his hand trail down the same path his mouth had taken, and when he reached the end, he took Sean’s cock in hand. “I have to come visit you at work sometime.”

  With a groan, Sean let his head fall back against the pillows. “I haven’t been to work in weeks. But next time I’m there, I’ll go shirtless, just for you.”

  “You give me a time and day, and I’ll be there. Been wondering what it would be like to bend you over one of the tables in your greenhouse.” Jesse ran his hand up and down Sean’s cock a few times, then, bending his neck, licked the tip. He looked up to find Sean watching him and grinned wickedly. “Or the other way around. For you, I’m easy.”

  “Jess,” Sean whispered. There was longing in his eyes, but he bit his lip nervously. “I don’t know—”

  “If you want me to stop, say the word.” He ran a soothing hand across Sean’s flank, then wrapped his lips around his boyfriend’s cock.

  It had been too long since he’d given a blowjob, he thought as he let gravity pull him down. He loved the feel of a cock in his mouth, substantial and heavy against his tongue, velvety skin and warm pulse just beneath. His eyes drifted closed, and he hummed in satisfaction. Above him, Sean moaned, muttering his name over and over.

  This probably wasn’t the kind of power everyone wanted him to wield, but it was his favorite. The power to make someone he loved happy.

  Sean’s hands clutched the sheets to either side of his hips, bunching the fabric together. His leg muscles tensed in the effort to not buck up into Jesse’s mouth.

  The power to make someone lose control was pretty okay too.

  He reached out to take Sean’s right hand, pulling it from its death grip on the sheets and twining their fingers together. Sean lifted his head again to meet Jesse’s eyes, watching as his cock slid between Jesse’s lips.

  It had been years since Jesse had given a blowjob, let alone tried to deep throat, but this was also the first time in a month Sean had allowed any sexual contact beyond kissing, so Jesse was going to take full advantage. He took a deep breath as he pulled off, and then let his throat relax as he pushed back down. He hoped it was like riding a bike. His eyes watered, but he managed to control his gag reflex and swallowed around Sean’s cock.

  It didn’t take long for Sean to tense beneath him, squeezing their twined fingers so tight that Jesse worried he was going to break his own hand. Jesse wasn’t worried about his own fingers, but Sean always felt infinitely more fragile than himself.

  “Gonna—Jess, gonna—” Sean mumbled just before his hips thrust up and he spent, groaning with relief so strong Jesse almost felt it himself. He fell back against the bed with a loud sigh as Jesse pulled away; the blissful expression on his face was almost comical. He roused after a second and looked down at Jesse. “Can I . . .”

  Jesse pulled himself up to straddle Sean’s hips again and took his own cock in hand. “You can stay right there, looking debauched and fucking gorgeous. This isn’t going to take—” Proving his point, Jesse gave a groan as his orgasm washed over him. He fell forward, barely managing to brace himself on one arm before crashing into Sean’s chest as he came between them.

  He felt a tiny tug as he finished, almost as though his body were trying to occupy the same space as Sean’s for a second, and he gasped one last time.

  “Jesse? Are you okay?” Sean asked, voice worried.

  With a childish giggle, Jesse lowered himself to lie down next to Sean. “Um, duh. That was awesome. I’m awesome. You’re even more awesome. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He knew exactly what Sean was talking about, but he wasn’t going to justify the concern by addressing it.

  Sean relaxed again and wrapped his arm around Jesse’s shoulders. “You’re good at that. I’m going to have to ask for a replay sometime.”

  “You name the time and place, I’ll be there.”

  Jesse didn’t care what time it was, or what he had to do for the day. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to sleep.

  “What is up with March?” Devon asked, sitting behind the counter at the knitting shop, staring at the ceiling. “It’s like everyone has moved out of town. Is it always like this?”

  Devon had gotten a little paranoid since his experience with the blizzard the month before, so whenever he thought something might be out of the ordinary, he unsubtly worked it into the conversation.

  “Totally normal, man, I promise. Nothing weird. It’s just been overcast.”

  “It has been overcast,” Devon agreed, but his tone was almost questioning. The poor guy had been scarred because he hadn’t warned everyone about the impending blizzard, even though he’d had no way of knowing what had been coming.

  “I haven’t seen the sun in a week,” Jesse agreed without drawing attention to Devon’s worry. The guy had enough on his mind without Jesse calling him out on one—totally understandable—neurosis. “And that is normal for March. It’s always rainy. No sun makes people grumpy, so March is a crappy month.”

  Devon leaned forward to look at Jesse more closely. “You’re not as grumpy as you were last week, though.”

  Jesse grinned at him. Trust his best friend to notice that. “I think Sean might be getting better.” For a fraction of a second, Jesse thought maybe it was something private that he should keep to himself, but if he couldn’t share with his best friend, who could he share with? “We had sex.”

  He suspected if he’d told anyone else, he’d have gotten a wrinkled nose and an exclamation of “TMI, man,” but Devon smiled back. “That’s awesome! He must feel better. Did he have any control issues?”

  Jesse thought of the odd pulling sensation at the end, but he dismissed it. He hadn’t been tired when he’d woken later that morning, let alone felt drained. “Don’t think so. I feel fine, and he didn’t freak out. I don’t even know what it would be like if he did.”

  “I read up on succubi a little, but there isn’t much information available. Your uncle says they tend to be very private.” Devon ran a hand over the half-finished scarf in front of him. “Apparently, it’s unusual for them to be open about their nature, which I kind of get. People act weird around him. I wonder if that’s why his mom worked with little kids.”

  “Because they weren’t freaked out by her?” That made sense, in a way, but he didn’t think that was it. “I think it’s because little kids aren’t obsessed with sex like adults. She didn’t have to be around people setting her powers off all day.”

  Devon cringed. “Is that why Sean’s staying away from people? Poor guy.”

  “Yeah, it’s not good. I think getting back to work might be the best thing for him, but I don’t want to tell him that. Kinda sounds rude, you know?”

  After a moment’s consideration, Devon nodded. “That would probably help. His work is solitary anyway, so it might be a way to ease back into social interaction. Maybe if we gave him a project, it would help.”

  Jesse pretended to think about that, and held back a smile as he answered, “You could always have him plan the flowers for your wedding.”

  Devon flipped him off and picked the scarf back up.

  “I thought you were making socks.”

  “Did you think I would be making the same thing forever? One finishes a project, then starts something else.” Devon rolled his eyes at Jesse as he rolled the scarf up and tucked it into a little bag. “But I’m putting it away, because Salli’s here and we can go to lunch.”

  Jesse nearly dropped the tablet he’d been working on. “What the heck? I didn’t hear her car.”

  “You were too busy thinking about sex,” Devon said as the door opened to admit Salli. She lifted one perfectly manicured eyebrow at them, and Devon threw up his hands. “I didn’t do it. I was only pointing it out.”

  “Please. You’re no more innocent than he is.” She marched back into the kitchen area to put her purse down and came
back a minute later. “I expect one of those rhubarb tarts with my lunch for putting up with you two.”

  “Anything my favorite boss desires,” Devon agreed.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Other way around, remember?”

  He laughed, slung an arm around Jesse, and headed for the front door.

  They’d barely gotten to the sidewalk when a police cruiser pulled into the parking space right in front of the shop. Jesse looked up, expecting to see his brother, but found a distressed Fletcher Lane climbing out of the driver’s seat without even turning the car off.

  Jesse kept himself from asking if everything was okay. It clearly wasn’t.

  “You guys have to come to the mayor’s office. There’s another letter.” Fletcher sounded winded, as though he’d run to the shop instead of driven, and Jesse couldn’t fault him for it. His own breath caught in his throat at the idea.

  Fletcher could only mean another letter from their anonymous “friend,” who had tried to warn them about the troll a month earlier.

  Devon gasped beside him and swayed into his shoulder, his expression one of horror.

  Jesse wrapped an arm around him and squeezed tight. Devon always felt responsible for things that weren’t his fault, and he held himself accountable for Leah Anderson’s death as much as anyone else. Jesse was damned well sick of his friends getting hurt and blaming themselves for things they couldn’t fix.

  He looked back at Fletcher. “We’ll take my car and meet you there. Unless you want to come with?” Fletcher had driven there, so he was probably okay, but Jesse wanted to make the offer anyway.

  “I’ll be fine. See you there.” He got back into the cruiser and zipped right back out of the space, headed for the mayor’s office, without checking oncoming traffic. Jesse hoped he would be fine. It was only a mile or so to town hall, but that didn’t preclude the possibility of an accident.

  He led Devon over to his SUV and opened the door for him, tempted to wait and watch the man climb in, just in case, but he curbed the protective instinct. He’d need it, and use it, later. For now, they needed to get to the mayor’s office.

  Jesse kept his calm and checked his mirrors and traffic before pulling out onto the street. He only went a little—okay ten—over the speed limit on the drive.

  Town hall had plenty of parking, most of which was empty on a Tuesday at lunch time, so Jesse pulled into the spot right next to Fletcher.

  Wade was standing on the sidewalk waiting for them. When he got a look at Devon’s pale face, he went and wrapped his arms around him. One worry lifted from his mind, Jesse turned to Fletcher. “Let’s get to the mayor’s office, then.”

  Fletcher waved for Jesse to precede him.

  The mayor was pacing back and forth in front of his desk when they arrived. Jesse tried valiantly not to think of chocolate sauce.

  He failed.

  The guy was freaking hot, even when he looked stressed as hell.

  Mayor Cormier’s head snapped up, and his shoulders relaxed a fraction when they walked through the door. “I’m sorry to pull you away from your work—”

  Jesse waved away the concern. “This is our work. We’re here when you need us, man.”

  With a deep breath, Mayor Cormier turned to his desk and picked up a single page of white paper. It looked innocuous, like any page right off a printer, with two neat folds that said it had spent time in a standard envelope. He looked like he was going to read aloud, but when he looked at the paper, his shoulders sagged, and he handed it to Jesse.

  Devon sidled up to his right, Wade and Fletcher to his left, and they all read.

  He’s sending his protégé, a sadistic bully who twists people’s minds against themselves. They’re planning to kill a woman who protects the town.

  I’ve been told I can trust you, but I can’t put the people I love in danger. I’m so sorry.

  —A Friend

  “That’s it?” Fletcher asked, sounding as disappointed as Jesse felt. It was a warning, certainly, but to call it vague was too kind.

  Devon held his hand out, and wordlessly, Jesse handed it over.

  “She . . .” Devon let himself trail off and stared off into space. For a second, Jesse thought his creepy fae powers had failed, but then his eyes glinted from gray to silver, and his voice came again, hollow and distant. “She gave us everything she has. She overheard a single conversation before they set the plan in motion. She’s afraid he knows she’s working against him.” His voice dropped to a frightened whisper. “Oh gods, what if he knows? He’ll kill us both. His own son.”

  Jesse shivered at the idea of someone hurting their own son. Jesse’s father was a harmless old carpenter who listened to bad eighties music and probably smoked more pot than everyone else in town combined. It was impossible to imagine him hurting anyone, let alone one of his sons.

  Devon’s grip went slack, and the letter fluttered toward the carpet.

  Wade plucked it out of the air before it got far, folded it up, and tucked it into his pocket. “I’ll take it back to the station and see if Jen can get anything out of it. She got some minor magical traces off the last one, so maybe she’ll be able to get more out of this.” The entire time he spoke, his concerned eyes didn’t stray from Devon.

  He was worried that one day, Devon would go fae and stay that way, Jesse realized with some surprise. Unflappable Wade was terrified, because for the first time in his life, he had something he was scared he might lose. Jesse reached out and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Sounds like a good plan. Why don’t I go with you?”

  “If you want. Is anything wrong?”

  Thinking quickly, Jesse motioned to the pocket where Wade had put the letter. “I haven’t seen it all, you know. The package they sent you in February. Devon’s told me about it, but I haven’t been down to the station. It’s kind of my job, but I dunno, better late than never, right?”

  Wade’s gaze lingered on Jesse’s face, but he nodded. “Sure. I mean, it’s not your job to sort through evidence, but it makes sense for you to want to be involved in the investigation. The sheriff won’t complain, and it’s not like we’re getting anywhere without your help.”

  Fletcher still looked put out. “But where do we even start trying to defend ourselves? It’s like the last thing she sent. I’m glad she’s trying to help, but it’s not enough information. A woman who protects the town? There are dozens of those.”

  The mayor cleared his throat, looking distinctly queasy. “I meant to tell you when you arrived, that mother wanted to come today, but hasn’t been feeling well.”

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Tommy,” Devon responded automatically. “Is it anything serious?”

  “A cold,” Mayor Cormier said. “Of course, at a hundred and two, everything has the potential to be serious. But that wasn’t what I was trying to—that is, Mother is the only woman currently on the town council.”

  They all looked at him in horror.

  “You think they’re going to try to kill your mom? That’s sick.” Fletcher said, looking pale. Jesse continued to be surprised by the man’s capacity for innocence, despite the history of senseless violence against himself and his loved ones.

  The mayor shrugged. “I don’t know. I know it’s because she’s my mother, so she’s important to me, but she’s the first woman who came to mind when I read it.”

  Wade pulled out his little cop notebook. “Madame Cormier is a reasonable target if they’re trying to hurt the whole town. We’ve got female deputies, but none of them make as much sense. Then there are the other obvious targets. Doctor Jha. My mother. Ms. O’Meara.”

  It took Jesse a moment to reconcile his mother’s inclusion on the list. She was a woman who protected the town, and she was one of the most dangerous people Jesse knew, so it was obvious that she was a possible target. The idea of someone hurting his mother, though . . . Jesse had to stifle a growl at that. His mother was off limits to these assholes.

  “But Gran’s not even here,” D
evon was protesting while Jesse tried to control his anger. “Heck, I'm not even sure where she is. They were talking about wandering across Europe for a few months last time I talked to them. Gran said she wanted to walk the Amalfi Coast, and I don’t know where that is, exactly.”

  “It doesn’t seem likely she’s the target, for sheer inconvenience, but you’ll want to warn her next time she gets in touch,” Wade said. The words were matter-of-fact, but Wade wasn’t that good at covering up his concern. He looked like he wanted to wrap himself around Devon and hide him from everything bad in the world. Jesse had a surge of empathy for his brother.

  Devon nodded. “What about the others? Do we warn them? Do we warn everyone? I mean, Cassidy is older than Madame Cormier. It could be her, right? It could be a quarter of the town.”

  Wade shook his head. “Not everyone. Ms. O’Meara, since she’s out on her own right now. The ones we’ve named, maybe, and Helena MacKenzie. The most powerful women in town. Forewarned is forearmed, but we don’t want to tell anyone who’s going to gossip about it.”

  The mayor chuckled at that. “I forget how young you are sometimes, Wade. No offense, but this is going to be all over town in an hour. Helena will be down at the station demanding a personal police officer by the end of lunch.”

  Fletcher shuddered. “And I’m the one who gets along with her, so it’d be me. Not happening.” He turned to Wade. “Right?”

  “Right. If the target could be almost anyone, we can’t start spreading our resources out. We need to be prepared, but we can’t get paranoid.” Wade walked around Jesse’s back and wrapped his arms around Devon. “You okay?”

  Devon buried his face in Wade’s chest but gave a small nod. “Fine.”

  “Sweet,” Jesse announced, like he had something to be happy about, and part of him wasn’t still thinking about his mother being threatened. “Fletcher, why don’t you go talk to Doc Jha? The mayor can get his mother up to speed, I’ll call mine, and Devon’s going to talk to Siobhan if she calls him. Then we’re all covered.” Jesse turned to Wade. “Fletcher can take the cruiser, and I’ll drive you back to the station, yeah?”

 

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