by Joey W. Hill
She felt Aaron’s hands, his lips brush hers, and tears sprang to her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you. I love you.”
As the kiss deepened, her fully open heart spilling into his waiting touch, she felt the servant’s hands slip away. The place on her neck throbbed, her body vibrated, and all of her yearned to continue the gift they’d started. Aaron had brought her to the starting gate of this new journey between them. But the vampire and his servant, whoever they really were, had launched them.
Based on such an unforgettable experience, she knew the possibilities going forward were endless.
Part Eight
Round Eight
“Well, as much as I like Sons of Anarchy, I’ve got to say that beat the hell out of an SOA marathon.”
Daegan chuckled. In mutual accord, they’d decided to take a little air, strolling around the warehouse district where Club Atlantis was located. There wasn’t much activity this time of night except the occasional sighting of a security guard or homeless person. Here and there they caught a glimpse of a more unsavory element, clinging to the shadows, but nothing of the caliber—or stupidity—that would bother two males capable of dismantling a human body one cracked joint at a time.
“Look at that.” With easy strength, Gideon hiked himself up onto a loading dock and reached behind the stack of empty pallets there. Pulling out a football, he tossed it a few feet in the air and caught it. “They must throw it around when they’re waiting on deliveries. Hey, go long.” He smirked. “Reasonably long, like thirty yards. Not thirty miles down the road.”
“You can’t throw it that far? I’m disappointed.”
Gideon threw, and of course Daegan was already waiting where he’d aimed it, catching it out of the air. “I think mindreading is against NFL rules. Toss it back.”
Daegan paused, considering the ball. In about two blinks, Gideon realized he must be replaying it in his head, how it had been thrown. Analyzing it. “You’re shitting me. You’ve never thrown a football?”
“The game has not been around that long.”
“Yeah, if you’re ancient.” Gideon grinned at Daegan’s slightly defensive tone. Something the vampire didn’t know shit about. Now there was a Red Sea miracle if ever he’d heard it. He walked across the parking lot to him. “Here, let me show you.”
When Daegan passed him the ball, Gideon palmed it, showing him where to wrap his hand, the L-shape that brought his fingertips along the lacing. “Now, when you throw it, you want to get some spin on it. The key’s the release point, top of the throwing arc, and your footwork. You want to step into it.”
Daegan studied him closely as Gideon made the motion. “Being a vamp, you can probably sling the thing halfway across the universe, with enough force to bypass the rules of physics, but if you’re working with the elements, this helps.”
“All right.” Daegan took it back from him, positioned his hand as Gideon had shown him. Almost.
“A little further under. There it is.” Gideon helped adjust his grip, stepping into alignment with him. After a brief hesitation, he employed the movements of his own body to put the vampire through the proper form. Taking hold of Daegan’s wrist to bring the ball back, Gideon used the pressure of his chest and thigh to demonstrate how he needed to pivot and come back square with the ball’s direction. It put Daegan’s ass up against his pelvis. Gideon’s hand dropped to his waist, his fingers curving loosely into the belt loop of Daegan’s slacks, his thumb on the rise of his ass. All to help him throw the ball right, of course. But it reminded him, vividly, of what they’d been doing before they’d been role playing for Shannon and her Master.
He was feeling pretty good and loose right now, but the proximity reminded him that neither of them had found release in that chamber. He was tempted to take a bite out of Daegan’s neck, press his cock harder against his ass. He could feel Daegan’s stillness, his awareness of the desire, but before anything could come of it, Gideon stepped back. “I think you got it. Let’s see it.”
“Go…long?” Daegan arched a brow at him. Giving him a tight grin, Gideon took off across the parking lot.
It was a decent first attempt, but Gideon had to use his third mark speed, because it went a little wide and wild. He talked Daegan through it a couple more times, and of course the vampire was a quick study. He was doing an acceptable spin by the time they took a seat on the loading dock and set the ball aside.
“We need some beer,” Gideon noted. “I think there was a place—”
“Thirty seconds.”
Gideon opened his mouth, but Daegan was gone. Thirty seconds? Jesus. He’d time the guy, but wanted to give him the latitude to buy Bubble Yum or Pop Rocks if he wanted to do so. That made him think of the age old sexual use for Pop Rocks, the candy’s fizz on the flesh, tingling against the mouth of the person covering them. He adjusted himself in the jeans. If he thought he could get away with it, he’d jack off so his mind wasn’t so much on sex. Food would help.
Hey, some Twinkies would be great if they’ve got ‘em. The yellow cake kind, not the chocolate. And some Fritos. Barbecue flavor.
Eleven seconds later, Daegan dropped a grocery bag next to him, giving him a sardonic look. “Anything else?”
“Did you steal those?”
“I left money by the cash register. Probably overpaid.”
Gideon grunted, started on the Fritos. Daegan tried one, then leaned back on one arm, lifting the beer to his mouth. He’d sat down close, such that the arm was positioned just behind him, his hip brushing Gideon’s, and it didn’t bug him. Truth? It kept him kind of revved.
“Which is why I did it, vampire hunter. We’re not done yet, remember?” Daegan gave him that heavy-lidded look. “And no, you wouldn’t have gotten away with it. Cock getting harder?”
“Not going to tell you if it is.”
Daegan bared fangs, that wicked, dangerous smile that sent another shot of arousal straight to the place in question. Gideon decided he’d move it off that footing for awhile, one, because his curiosity was getting the better of him, and two, because he really did want the snacks. He gestured with the Twinkie. “You can’t throw a football, which is the most pansy-assed thing I’ve ever heard. But sometime during X times a hundred years you had to take advantage of your super-fast, super-hard-to-detect mad skills to peek in a really hot girl's bedroom. Or hang out in a sorority for a Girls-Gone-Wild video-in-training. If you give me details, I’ll let the football thing slide. I won’t accuse you of being a total girl. Or tell James, because it’s just more satisfying to make fun of someone if you have help.”
“I haven’t been involved in any sports in the past several hundred years,” Daegan shrugged. “It’s difficult when you can lap the field before anyone moves.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s a lame excuse. You're just a big pussy nerd with fangs.”
“Sports used to be about testing combat skills; they weren't for million dollar contracts that put you above the law if you killed your pregnant girlfriend or got caught with illegal drugs.”
“So you’re saying Lancelot didn’t get all sorts of groupie sex because of the way he handled his lance?”
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”
"So now we can add sanctimonious, self-righteous and pretentious to the list. Oh, I forgot, they're all the same thing. Pansy-assed. Isn't there a Latin word for that? Pansius Assidus. I'm sure someone who spends more time reading than watching TV would know the right word."
“If there was, I wouldn't waste the knowledge on a Neanderthal who only reads cartoon books or magazines with center tri-folds of naked women."
“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings. And you totally blew off the Girls Gone Wild thing.”
“I might be inclined to share a few stories, if you share another Frito.”
Gideon offered him another and Daegan took it. Vamps could eat small bites of things without it messing up their constitution, and Gideon felt absurdl
y pleased that Daegan seemed to like the taste of something he’d chosen.
“I’ll like tasting it on your lips better.” The idle observation, the way Daegan’s gaze lingered on his mouth, gave Gideon that restless feeling, but the vampire was in a similar mood, willing to be lazy about it, take his time. Of course, that altered Gideon’s interest, perversely ramped it up, but he sat on it, played it cool. Didn’t matter if Daegan could read it from his mind or not, because Gideon knew Daegan wasn’t as cool as he was pretending to be. His cock wasn’t the only one getting hard, and that gave Gideon an unexpectedly pleasant feeling, with the right edgy bite to it. No pun intended.
Daegan shot him an arch look, leaning back again as he took another swallow of beer. His gaze automatically flickered over the area, doing a sweep as he always did. Always watchful. Always protective.
During the lull, Gideon replayed the football lesson in his mind. The crease of concentration on his fine brow as Daegan figured out how to do something he’d never done before, something Gideon could show him. He hadn’t ever really thought about Daegan’s childhood, but he guessed it was pretty strange. Not a lot of tossing around the football with Dad or other kids.
“Your father taught you how to throw a football?”
Gideon slanted him a glance. It was odd, sometimes, how Daegan would follow his thoughts like that and then just come in as if they were having a conversation. He kind of liked it. “No, that was my coach. My dad was a bookworm, a teacher. But he came to my games, found me books and clippings about top players and winning strategies, things that made me a better player.”
Daegan made a quiet noise, then Gideon yelped as the vampire caught the back hem of his T-shirt, pulled it up and swiped the cold beer bottle along his lower back. Twisting around, he tried for a punch, and his arm was caught, Daegan using the momentum to turn him, roll him to his side. The vampire had him pinned, arm twisted to his back, the other hand on the back of his neck. Gideon went still. He could struggle, try to break the hold, but when Daegan lowered his mouth to his nape and held the contact there, Gideon found himself waiting, wanting.
“You just rolled me on the other bag of Fritos,” he said. “Asshole.”
“When you showed me how to throw the football, you wanted to fuck me, Gideon. I saw a glimpse of it in your mind.” Daegan’s grip shifted, going from the back of the throat to the front, holding tight, a Master’s threat in the grip. “You want me to surrender to you, the way you do to me or Anwyn? Top me?”
The smartass response—though not really the smartest answer— was, “Yeah, what you going to do about it?” But that wasn’t the truth, was it? Watching Daegan’s absorption with throwing a football had reminded Gideon of the handful of times he’d caught the vampire watching him and Anwyn, almost like someone who’d stood outside the candy store all his life looking in. Which was crazy, right? He should give the smartass answer and take the consequences.
But they were teaching him not to lie. Well, not to lie about the unexpected things. They indulged a certain level of bullshit about the expected things.
He waffled on it and, as he did, Daegan levered him back to a seated position, releasing his arm. Shifting to sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder, he pinned Gideon with those dark eyes. Gideon couldn’t tell if he was reading his mind or not, but he had a feeling he wasn’t. Sometimes Daegan did that, wanting to hear it straight from the lips first. “I’m waiting, Gideon.”
He thought it through serious, no wise cracking. When at last he spoke, he did so slowly, working on it.
“Yeah, I do want to fuck you, but not the way you’re thinking. You've been in control for so long...I figured you’d like the chance to let go sometime. Not just to me. I'd want Anwyn there, that's important. I wonder if you could trust us enough to take care of you. Like you do when you sleep."
It was ridiculous, how much that meant to him and Anwyn, the few times Daegan had slept deep, letting down his guard, trusting them to watch over him.
“It’s not like I'm...topping you, or whatever they call it. It's like I'm still serving you, a different way, a way you can trust me to do, because I am…" He cleared his throat. "Your servant.”
Daegan's eyes had gone full dark, elevating Gideon’s heart rate, because that always meant the vampire was pretty worked up, on a lot of dangerous levels. His lips barely moved. "Say the word that was in your head, Gideon. The one you were almost brave enough to say."
“Not sure if I can. It goes against a lot of things…" Hell, it was the truth. He swallowed, hard. Really hard. "Your slave."
That blackness in Daegan’s gaze caught fire. Gideon saw it, accepted it, burned in it. Jesus, he'd follow him into Hell if that's where the Devil said this guy needed to go. He and Anwyn, they'd link arms with him and go anywhere, do anything to be at his side, take care of him. To be chained to him. So yeah, slave fit. Slave actually felt pretty damn good. Though he sure as hell wasn't going to say it in front of anyone else, ever.
Daegan's lips curved then, acknowledging the challenge. But he ran his knuckles along Gideon's cheek, a surprisingly tender gesture. "Perhaps we will do this fantasy of yours one day. I like it when you open your heart, Gideon. It takes a can opener of monstrous proportions, but when it happens, you always surprise me.” His mouth got firm, taut, making Gideon want to bite his lips. “In there with Shannon, when you called me Master, I wanted to eat you alive. I want to eat you alive now.”
The docks were pretty deserted, and there were a lot of shadows. Gideon wouldn’t deny him, he knew that. Not now, probably not ever.
“No, not this time. I want you in the place you belong. My bed.”
Gideon met his gaze. “The dungeon might make more sense. I still owe you five strikes with that strap.”
“That you do. But we’ll hold that for later. As much as I enjoy punishing you, right now, I want this far more.”
§
Daegan’s bed. He didn’t sleep there with Daegan, not without Anwyn. When they came into the room, Daegan put his hand over Gideon’s before he could snap on the light. Instead, he tangled their fingers together, put his mouth on the juncture of throat and shoulder, where the stretched collar of the T-shirt allowed him access. As he sank his fangs into Gideon’s flesh, just the tips, Gideon’s brain scrambled with lust. It was demand, passion, but it wasn’t rough and violent. There was no fight here. This was pure, overwhelming seduction, Daegan taking everything out from under him. A continuation of the lesson Gideon realized the vampire had been hammering into his head the whole time.
Yes, Gideon. This is you and me. I want my servant, my slave. I want to take him down, be balls deep inside of him, hear his cries of pleasure, his plea for release, and know he’s all mine.
Those capable fingers were removing the T-shirt, opening his jeans with a deft tug, but the words created an overpowering set of wants in Gideon as well. He twisted in Daegan’s grasp, caught his mouth with his own. He locked his other set of fingers around Daegan’s, so it was like they were wrestlers, facing off, about to begin. Or dancers, if Gideon was willing to admit he danced. Which he wasn’t, but if he did dance, Daegan was clearly leading now. He was moving them toward the bed while Gideon did his level best to devour his mouth. When Daegan’s fang speared his lip, Gideon cursed, even as he embraced the pain, his cock becoming even more of a steel bar when Daegan suckled that blood off him. Thank God he’d unzipped his jeans or he’d be in pain. Jesus, the guy was so bloody strong. He maneuvered Gideon back to that oversized bed, spun him and shoved him down face forward. Gideon caught the covers in his fists as Daegan’s mouth landed on his bare spine, his hands inside the open jeans, gripping Gideon’s ass, fondling, kneading.
All the way up on the bed, Gideon. Get in the center on knees and elbows. I want to see your submission to me. It will make me so hard, I might stand over you and come against your back, your fine, fine ass. Perhaps it, and the lashes I will give you later, will remind you that you do not have the right to jack o
ff whenever you have the craving. Your seed, your release, belongs to me and your Mistress.
When Daegan reached between Gideon’s spread thighs and gripped his cock in his strong hand, Gideon groaned, fisting the coverlet again. Then he remembered, letting go, spreading out trembling fingers.
“Good man,” the vampire whispered in the darkness. “Good boy. My good slave.”
It was dark, dark and quiet here, like the inside of a womb. One of those crazy montages was playing through Gideon’s mind, the things that led to this moment. Anwyn, curled up between them in the bed at night, but turned face first into Gideon’s chest, holding him close as Daegan held them both, his fingers trailing Gideon’s back, his forearm resting on Anwyn’s hip. Daegan, standing for him at the Council meeting. The vampire had come to find Gideon when he’d run from Anwyn and the male vampire. She and Daegan had welcomed him home with the joy of people seeing a loved one coming back from the grave.
Finally, more of that montage tonight, everything that had happened. But especially Daegan being not so proud he wouldn’t let Gideon teach him something as basic as throwing a football, underscoring he was interested in what Gideon had to offer. That odd candy-store look on Daegan’s face as he watched Gideon teach him.
It had always been easier for Gideon to believe Anwyn was the glue that held the three of them together. And he loved his Mistress with everything he was, but now, with Daegan’s mouth trailing over his spine, his fingers caressing him and sending his mind spiraling, he was getting a really off-the-wall, crazy thought.