by Lexie Davis
Forever Yours
ForeverYours
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Forever Yours
ISBN # 978-1-907010-41-5
©Copyright Lexie Davis
Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright May 2009
Edited by Jess Bimberg
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
FOREVER YOURS
Lexie Davis
Dedication
This one is for Jess, my patient and super-genius editor.
Thanks for helping me make my stories shine.
Forever Yours
Chapter One
“I need your help.”
Dakota Carrington glanced up from wiping the bar off with a wet rag. He placed his hands on the counter in front of him, making his biceps bulge out against the tight cotton of his shirt. His sparkling blue eyes pierced Brock in place. “You know the price.”
Brock stared at his long time acquaintance for what felt like an hour before he finally ended up on a barstool requesting whatever was on tap. “We’ve known each other for what, two years now? Can’t I get a freebie every once and a while?”
Dakota poured the beer and slid it down the bar. “Where would be my fun in that?”
Brock stopped the glass before it passed him and circled the base with his hands. “It’s personal this time.”
Brock didn’t know what he wanted from Dakota. He might not even be able to help Brock in the end, but after hearing the news of his mother, Dakota was the first person Brock thought of, and he found himself in front of him asking for help. Brock lifted the glass mug to his lips and drank a large portion of the contents.
“I get off around ten. Meet me at my place then and we’ll talk.” Dakota picked up Brock’s beer and wiped the ring of moisture beneath it. “This is hardly the place for conversation.”
Brock nodded. Dakota went about his business taking care of the other customers, leaving Brock alone to finish his drink. It’d been two years since their first romantic encounter, and every time their eyes met, Brock still felt the punch of lust straight to his gut. He drank his beer and studied the crowd. For a vampire slayer, a vampire bar was the perfect place to pick up on gossip.
The Death Bill this time had his mother’s name on it. Victoria Harte’s name was scrolled in fancy script on the blood-ridden paper, and it was his duty to carry through with the order. Brock finished his beer and ordered another one. He wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He knew problems were never solved by drowning his sorrows, but in all the years he’d hunted the bloodsuckers of the universe, he’d never been so torn over a Death Bill.
Dakota eyed him strangely as he delivered the second mug and wiped the bar down again, stalling. “Is it that bad?”
Brock said nothing and tipped the glass to his lips. Of all his contacts over the years, Dakota was the only one he trusted fully. Granted, they had their disputes and made their own terms. They also had their own items of blackmail against each other, but they never faltered on loyalty. If they promised the other they’d do something, they did. There was never any doubt.
Brock pulled out his wallet and threw a twenty on the bar. “Ten?”
Dakota nodded and grabbed the money with one hand and the empty glass with the other. It didn’t matter what he asked Brock to pay for his help this time. He’d pay triple if it meant his mother got to live. The scary part of it, though, was the uncertainty of whether or not Dakota would help.
* * * *
Haunting Love Alley happened to be the most famous vampire neighbourhood in town, and Brock knew every second he stayed in the area, he had to watch his back. Attacks were common when vampires smelt a human around, even a half-human, and Brock was no exception. He couldn’t count how many tried to prey on him, thinking he was defenceless and weak when in fact he was exactly like them.
His father had appointed him the position of slayer when his failing health prevented him from continuing his duties. The government, however, hadn’t known the older man had married a vampire.
Being a vampire employed by the government as a slayer didn’t offer much friendship in his own community. In fact, that was how Brock and Dakota first met. After a long night of passionate sex, Dakota had decided to end off his human boy-toy, only to find Brock was a vampire. Both had been put at an awkward position. Vampires, for obvious reasons, couldn’t be slayers, and well, gay vampires weren’t commonly accepted by their own species. True, there were many out there, but often the result of ‘coming out’ was death by a clansman or, inadvertently, a vampire slayer. The world was a cruel place and each man agreed to keep the other’s secret.
Brock stopped in front of Dakota’s house and walked up the multiple steps to his front door. With his hand on his stake, Brock pushed the doorbell and waited, glancing around.
“You’re early, you know.” Dakota appeared from nowhere behind him. He rolled his eyes as he pulled out his key and inserted it in the lock. “I expected it though.”
He pushed the door open and permitted Brock entrance inside. Unlike the other apartments of higher class vampires, Dakota’s was simple and very human-like. He had the basics in furnishings. He hadn’t bothered cleaning up the pizza box from last night or folding the clean laundry he’d set in a basket on the dining room table.
“What’s up?” Dakota asked, closing and locking the door behind him. He dropped his keys in a porcelain pitcher next to the door and shrugged out his black leather jacket. “Who’s the Death Bill for this time?”
Brock moved a pillow aside and sat on the couch. “Victoria Harte.”
“Your mother?” Dakota frowned. “For what?”
“Unpaid debt to the government.” Brock’s stomach tightened as he forced the words through his clenched teeth.
“Whoa.” Dakota crossed the room. “All she has to do is pay off the debt and her life is spared. What’s the problem?”
“No money.” Brock rubbed his brow.
“And they’re killing her for this? Where is she?”
Brock shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Dakota sat on the coffee table in front of him, propping his forearms on his knees as he leant over. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know.” Brock sat back and met Dakota’s eyes. “You have any ideas of how I can get her out of this?”
Dakota sighed. “No. I have strings I can pull, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”
Brock figured as much. “I don’t know why I stopped by the bar tonight. I knew that’d be your answer.”
“You wanted a freebie.” Dakota smiled. The slight tilt of his lips show
ed perfect white teeth in contrast to his dark skin. “I can help you in that department.”
Brock shook his head. Payment between them was sex. Blowjobs here and there got him a location of the person he needed to find. Actual sex got him more, depending on what exactly he needed. For Dakota to suck him, it was usually to keep Brock’s mouth shut about something better left confidential. And sometimes, Brock just paid him for a wild fuck when he needed to get laid.
“I don’t doubt it, but I have two days to figure this out.”
Brock watched as Dakota moved to the recliner. The man had one hell of a body hidden beneath the tight cotton shirt and plain denim jeans. Brock swallowed when their eyes met.
“You’re stressed. You can’t think when you’re stressed.” His eyes were a deep blue and pointedly staring right at him.
“Sex isn’t going to help me this time.” Brock bent forward. “I feel your mind pulling at me, Dakota. Stop it.”
Dakota sighed. “I can’t help you and you don’t want sex. Why are you still here?”
As pathetic as it sounded in his own mind, Brock wanted comfort. He wanted someone to tell him no matter what, everything would be okay. He glanced over at his friend and felt the mind games continue. The pull was strong, and Brock didn’t feel like fighting.
“Fine.” He leaned back and widened his legs. “Have your way with me.”
Dakota grinned. “I thought of a solution to both of our problems.”
Brock arched an eyebrow. “What? I’m a little pressed for time.”
“I want you to move in with me.” Dakota crossed the room and dropped to the floor between Brock’s legs. “I’ll pay the debt and you’ll fuck me. Your mom lives and we enjoy each other’s company.”
His long fingers popped the button free and slid the zipper over Brock’s cock. Dakota didn’t waste any time wrapping a warm palm around the stiff shaft. He pumped up from the base, squeezing with just enough pressure—exactly the way Brock liked it.
“When did you come into some cash?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dakota leaned forward to take the tip of Brock’s fat cock into his mouth.
Any thought rolling around in his brain went out the window. The hot, wet pull of Dakota’s mouth was from years of experience and perfected technique. Brock closed his eyes and let his lover take care of him. After all, that was what he told himself he wanted. Comfort. Dakota definitely offered him that without so much as speaking a word.
Brock shifted slightly, tugging his jeans down. Dakota lifted his gaze, meeting Brock’s eyes. They’d always had an unexplainable connection beyond their twisted relationship. Dakota pulled back and licked his way to Brock’s balls. The soft tug of his lips, the harsh rasp of his tongue and the pump of his fist up then down his shaft pushed Brock right to the edge of mind-blowing pleasure.
Dakota stopped.
“What the—” Brock panted, wide-eyed and confused as Dakota stood and walked around the coffee table.
“We need to set some ground rules.” He grabbed a pen and paper from his desk in the far corner of the room. “A contract, if you will.”
Brock swallowed hard, staring at his dick. “This couldn’t wait until afterwards?”
Dakota smiled. “Afterwards you’d disappear like you always do. Right now I have you right where I want you.”
The glint in Dakota’s eyes annoyed Brock. He groaned his frustration. Dakota was notoriously known for the games he played. He should have suspected it when he tried the telepathic crap on him.
“Rule one—you live here twenty-four-seven.” He wrote on the paper. “Rule two—”
“—you finish sucking me right now.”
Dakota grinned and continued, “Sex isn’t payment anymore. We fuck when we want and where we want.”
Brock took his cock in his hand and clenched his teeth. Jerking himself off wasn’t anywhere near what Dakota gave him, but relief was relief.
“And three—the term is indefinitely.”
That got Brock’s attention. He stopped and met Dakota’s eyes. “What?”
“You and me. Forever.” Dakota’s gaze didn’t waver. His hard eyes pierced Brock in place. “In exchange, I give you whatever amount of money you need to bail your mother out and terminate the Death Bill.”
Dakota scribbled more on the paper and tossed the notebook on the couch beside Brock, whose mind raced. On one hand, their life wouldn’t really change. He and Dakota used each other for sex all the time. But on the other hand, he hadn’t lived with another person since he’d moved out of his mother’s house when he turned eighteen. And he’d never lived with a man, or anyone he’d fucked. The word lingered in his mind.
Forever.
Forever was a hell of a long time.
“Is this your idea of a marriage proposal or something?” Brock’s erection softened enough to zip his pants up again. “Forced slavery? Conning me when I need you most?”
“I’m not forcing you to do anything. And we both know slavery is a strong term. You run your own game, I run mine. “
“Are you fucking with me?” Brock stood. “I’m not signing my life away. No. Fucking. Way.”
Dakota crossed his arms. “Fine. Do you know how they’ll kill her if you don’t? They will take their time torturing her, doing god knows what until she begs for death. They’ll come after you. Bring you to her and kill her in front of you.” Dakota narrowed his eyes. “Then they’ll kill you.”
“Oh, so you’re buying both our lives?”
“I’m not asking for much, Brock. Take it or leave it. Either way, it doesn’t affect me in the long run.” Dakota crossed the room and opened the front door. “It’ll only affect you.”
Brock clenched his jaw to the point his teeth could break from the force. “How do I know you have the money? You work at a fucking bar for crying out loud.”
“I told you not to worry about it.” He arched an eyebrow. “What’s it going to be?”
Brock picked the paper up and stared at the blood red script on the page. Forever. The word called out to him like nothing else. Short term he could handle, but this? He huffed a breath and pictured his mother in her tiny little house making him his favourite pie. She loved to bake. She loved to take care of him, and he tried to visit as often as he could. His job didn’t exactly offer those closest to him a sense of security. He normally looked for the bad guys, but sometimes, the bad guys came looking for him.
“I don’t have all night, Brock. Take it or leave it. I’m only offering once so make your decision.”
He licked his lips. Forever. He’d known he’d pay a steep price to save his mother’s life. And he figured Dakota knew as well. Brock motioned with his fingers for Dakota to close the door.
“Give me a knife.”
Dakota pulled out a pocket knife, and Brock sealed the bond with his blood. The contract was legal and punishable by death should either party breach it.
He met Dakota’s eyes. “I’m not following through on anything until my mother is cleared. Got it?”
Dakota folded the paper and returned it to the desk. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Forever Yours
Chapter Two
“Where do you want me to put my things?” Brock asked Dakota.
It’d been two days since Victoria’s Death Bill had been demolished, and Brock still didn’t look any happier about their little arrangement. Dakota pulled his glasses off and turned from his computer.
“Depends on what it is.”
Brock tossed his bag to the couch. “It’s my shit.”
Dakota huffed, not bothering to respond. Brock was a hard person to understand. Dakota went back to his business on the computer, ignoring Brock as he stomped about the house.
Their deal wasn’t that bad. He wanted the commitment because Brock never committed to anything. Brock wanted the relationship without the strings, which was why they’d developed the sex for service plan. They’d help each other regardless of the s
ituation. They’d known it the night they met, when they discovered each other’s secrets.
“So you bind me to you forever and now you ignore me?” Brock sat on the couch with a beer.
“I’m only ignoring you because you’re acting like an ass.”
Brock lifted the beer to his lips. “But you like ass, darling.”
Dakota rolled his eyes. “You’re acting like a five year old, Brock. Real mature.”
“You bought me. Should have spent your money more wisely if I’m not what you like.”
I don’t like you, Brock. I love you. It was on the tip of Dakota’s tongue to say it, but Brock’s little comment hit the wrong nerve. “What do you want, Brock? A fight?”
“Like you’d win. I’d stake your ass so quick you’d be on your way to hell faster than a blink.”
Dakota crossed the room and fisted his hand in Brock’s shirt, pulling him off the couch. He shoved him to the middle of the living room and narrowed his eyes. “Let’s see what you’ve got, bad boy. It’s been a while since we’ve played.”
Dakota tried to push his real fury down and lock it away. If they truly went head to head for real, he didn’t want to think of the potential outcome. Brock stared at him, beer still at hand, waiting. Dakota knew the stake his lover favoured so much was always within reach.
“I don’t feel like cleaning up your blood tonight.” Brock lifted the bottle to his lips.
Dakota snorted. “Always one to put off the inevitable.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll find out when you come to bed.” Dakota blew him a kiss in passing. He knew Brock wouldn’t share the king-sized luxury bed in the master bedroom that night. But he would tomorrow.
* * * *