by Lexie Davis
“Give me a screaming orgasm,” Darius Williams requested. Dakota arched an eyebrow at his friend. “The drink, dickwad.”
Darius shook his head though he grinned and plopped down on one of the bar stools. Dakota had known him since they were kids and they still shared a beer from time to time.
“You’ve got a wicked sense of humour.”
Dakota grabbed a glass and poured the drink. “I said nothing, therefore I did nothing. I’m completely innocent.”
Darius nodded. “Right. The grass ain’t green either.”
“What’s new with you man?”
“Same shit as always. Met a new girl—paranormal this time. Those damn human chicks are bitchy.”
“I keep telling you humans were put on this earth to get you in trouble.”
Darius gave him a goofy grin. “But it’s good trouble.”
Dakota attended to other customers while Darius drank his drink. Brock hadn’t been by. Normally Dakota saw him or heard people talking about him. Sometimes they even mentioned the latest Death Bill given out.
Nothing.
“How long you workin’ tonight?” Darius asked.
“Long enough. I get off around ten.” Dakota wiped the bar down.
“Right. I guess you aren’t up for some clubbing?”
Dakota glanced around. He practically lived at the club. “That would be a no.”
Darius scooted the glass back and pulled out his wallet. “Tell the girlfriend I said hi.” He pulled out a hundred dollar bill and told him to keep the change.
Dakota watched his friend leave. As one of the council members, Darius had power and influence over their people. He gave orders and expected them to be followed. None of which had mattered much when Dakota had turned down his advances years ago. Dakota glanced down at the money in his hand. Something, indeed, was fishy about their conversation, an awkwardness underneath it all. He thought they were friends, but the questioning, and the comment about the girlfriend, seemed out of place. What was Darius up to?
After ten, Dakota found himself walking up the steps to his house and entering the darkened foyer. He flipped the light on and glanced around. Not one thing looked out of place but something still wasn’t right. Brock was nowhere in sight.
Glasses rattled in the kitchen and Dakota cautiously approached. He pulled out his pocket knife and rounded the corner, flipping the light on as he went. Brock’s broad shoulders were the first thing he took in—sleek, tanned skin covering the most sculpted muscles he’d ever touched. The tattoo at the small of his back made Dakota’s mouth water.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“None of your damn business.” Brock lifted a glassful of ice cubes to his eye.
Dakota stepped into the room and leant against the counter. “Are you still pissed off at me for the contract? If it is causing this much anger in you, why did you sign the damn paper in the first place?”
Brock turned and pulled the glass away from his eye. Dakota frowned at the shiner marring his face. “I signed that fucking paper because there were no other options.”
“What happened to your eye?”
“I was jumped by your friends on my way home.” He threw the glass towards the sink. It shattered.
“What friends?” Dakota’s anger came over him in full force.
“I don’t know their names. One of the council members. He wore the ruby ring.”
The only council member Dakota knew personally was Darius. “Fuck. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Brock brushed it off. “Do you have anything stronger than beer in this joint?”
Dakota moved towards him and pulled open a cabinet door. He selected a bottle of whisky and reached for the next door to grab two glasses. He poured them half full before handing one to Brock and tipping the other back in one gulp. Brock eyed him curiously, but Dakota didn’t care. He filled the glass up again and took another gulp.
“Darius came into the bar this afternoon. He was his same old self until he invited me clubbing with him. I thought it was an odd request and it got even weirder when he said ‘tell the girlfriend I said hi’. I swear I didn’t know what he was up to.”
Brock snorted. “I don’t care.”
Dakota grabbed his arm. “I’m serious, Brock. I don’t know why he came after you but I intend to find out.”
Brock shrugged him off and grabbed an ice cube from the freezer. He dropped it in his cup and put it to his eye. Thoughts of Darius paying him back for being with Brock crossed his mind, and Dakota didn’t like it. Brock entered the living room and settled on the couch. Darius, in a sense, was Brock’s boss. Maybe it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with Brock’s smart-assed mouth and arrogant attitude?
Sighing, he grabbed his glass and followed. They didn’t own a TV between them—neither was home long enough to watch it—so Brock settled for staring into the empty space before him.
“Talk to me, Brock.” Dakota sat on the coffee table in front of him and rubbed his lover’s knees. “What happened?”
Brock pulled the glass away from his face. “Why did you make the deal? You knew I had no other options. Why did you do that to me?”
Dakota rubbed his brow and lifted his glass to drain the rest of the contents. He wasn’t about to spill his soul to Brock sober only to be turned away and completely let down in the end.
“It was my way of getting you to commit to me.” Dakota cringed. To his own ears, that sounded tacky. He could only imagine how bad it sounded to Brock. Maybe the drinking thing wasn’t such a great idea. “God, Brock. I think I’m in love with you. I knew you’d never agree to move in with me unless you were forced, and well, opportunity knocked. I didn’t make difficult stipulations. I knew you liked your freedom and would resent me for taking it from you, but I wanted to be with you. I think somewhere deep inside yourself, you wanted to be with me too. That’s why I did it. I took the first step.”
“You’re falling in love with me?” Brock’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “Are you fucking serious?”
That was why Dakota needed to be drunk. “Look, I said my piece. I answered your question. I don’t need to hear the cynicism.”
He turned and headed upstairs. So much for my plans. Dakota undressed, leaving his clothes where they landed. He fell face first on the bed, not bothering to pull the covers over his body. That’s what you get for screwing with emotions.
Forever Yours
Chapter Three
Brock stared at the staircase for a long time after Dakota left, before returning his gaze to his drink. Dakota was falling in love with him. Where the fuck had that come from?
Brock lifted the glass to his lips. Darius knew Dakota was gay. That had been part of the beating. Darius knew Dakota’s little secret and the possible threat of exposure lurked on the horizon. But Darius also thought Brock was human.
What the fuck was he supposed to do?
God, emotions weren’t his thing. Anger was common but he usually ended up killing whatever or whoever he was angry at. He couldn’t hate Dakota. He wasn’t even angry with him. Dakota had given him one hell of a sum, and had their prior arrangements come into effect, it probably would have taken him forever to pay off that debt anyway. But he’d said he was falling in love with him…
Brock stood and drank the last of his whisky, slamming the glass on the coffee table when he was through. He didn’t know exactly what they had or what Dakota wanted from him, but he might as well try. Forever was a hell of a long time to be mad at someone, especially when he lived with him.
Brock headed up the stairs and twisted the doorknob to Dakota’s bedroom. In the semi-darkness, he found Dakota passed out on his bed. Brock stared a moment, taking in the sight of his lover, knowing with everything inside him that there was indeed something more between them. He could pretend all he wanted that it was a forced union, or simply just a contract, but Dakota saw what Brock refused to admit. Brock was falling hard for Dakota, an
d they both knew it, whether Brock chose to admit it out loud or not. He crossed the room and sat on the vacant side of the bed to untie his boots.
“What are you doing in here?”
Brock’s mind spun, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol. In the past, both had used sex as a form of relationship. They knew it and ignored it, and all worked well between them. What was the harm in that now? Dakota was right when he said nothing had changed other than the fact Brock lived with him now. Everything else remained the same.
“You wanted to talk.” Brock tossed the boot to the side and worked on unlacing the other one. “I don’t say the ‘L’ word. I don’t deal with emotions. I don’t express them, and I definitely don’t talk about them. I don’t want to hear about them and I don’t care what you think about them.” Brock huffed a breath and tossed his other boot. “Having said that, they are off topic indefinitely.”
“Fine. No ‘I love yous’. Got it. Anything else?”
Brock flipped the beside lamp on and turned to face Dakota. “It doesn’t mean I don’t feel them.”
Dakota pulled the pillow beneath his chin. “I know that.” He shifted slightly. “I know you, Brock. Two years of rampant sexual encounters, you sorta get to know each other quite well. ”
Brock snorted. “I’m bound to you forever. Is this your version of marriage?”
Dakota smiled and closed his eyes. “Call it whatever you want to call it.”
Brock stood and pulled his jeans and boxers off before climbing in bed next to him. “So we had our first fight after the nuptials and survived. Does this mean we get makeup sex?” Brock bent over to kiss Dakota. “Or maybe start the honeymoon sex. How does that work anyway? I get you for a week to fuck your brains out?”
Dakota turned on his side and cupped Brock’s cheek. Hesitantly smiling, he leant in and pressed his lips against Brock’s. It’d felt like forever since their lips had touched. Brock opened his mouth and tasted the heady male flavour on Dakota’s tongue, mixed with the whisky he drank earlier. Heat surged through his body straight to his cock.
“I think I kinda like you this way.” Dakota pushed Brock against the mattress to kiss him more thoroughly.
They struggled. Brock lay back against the mattress while Dakota kissed his neck. Each press of lips against his hot skin built the anticipation even higher.
“You enjoy teasing me, don’t you?” Brock asked. He glanced at Dakota’s face. His lover lay beside him with a lazy grin.
“I’m tipsy, Brock.”
“I can see that.” He took the liberty of running his gaze down Dakota’s body, stopping when he got to the piercing at the tip of his cock. The barbell shone in the harsh light. “You gonna remember this tomorrow?”
Dakota laughed. “Depends on how good you are.”
Brock pulled Dakota’s legs apart in response. “You never complained before.”
He leaned over his lover and licked his stiff nipple. Dakota moaned and cupped the back of his head. “I’m not complaining now. Have your way with me.”
Dakota lifted his hands over his head, lying on the bed in X fashion. Brock couldn’t help thinking that his man was definitely shit-faced. He moved up to press his lips against Dakota’s, completely surprising him with the tenderness of the kiss. Sliding his hand down his lover’s body, he took in the hard muscle beneath surprisingly soft skin. Dakota’s cock rubbed against Brock’s belly as he pulled back to stare into his eyes.
For a moment, time stood still. Brock wondered if the alcohol had gone to his head or perhaps it was the beating he took earlier messing with him. He slid down Dakota’s body, cupping his balls with one hand while his mouth opened and took the tip of his cock inside. Both men groaned. Salty pre-come leaked onto Brock’s tongue, enticing him more. He loved Dakota’s piercing and flicked his tongue against it, knowing the action alone would drive his lover out of his mind.
“Oh, fuck…that feels good.” Dakota closed his eyes and thrust his hips, trying to push his cock deeper into Brock’s mouth.
Brock pulled back with a chuckle. “Maybe I should do to you what you did to me.”
Dakota lifted his head, wide-eyed and panicked. “Don’t.”
Brock slid his tongue up the length of Dakota’s shaft. “Paybacks always were a bitch. And I did get jumped today because of your little cronies.”
He kissed the tip. He wasn’t about to end anything they started. Quite frankly, it’d been too long since he’d gotten laid and he wanted Dakota. He only got hard for Dakota, and the evil man knew it.
“I told you I’d take care of that…later.” Dakota inhaled sharply as Brock’s tongue flicked against his balls. Brock chuckled and sucked one lightly between his lips. “Oh, my god.”
Brock fisted Dakota’s cock in his hand and sat up, pumping him. “Shut up and hand me the lube.”
Dakota shifted slightly, clearly drunk with every clumsy movement he made. Brock pitied the man when he woke the next morning. Dakota tossed the bottle of lube towards him and pulled the pillow from beneath his head to stuff under his ass. Legs widespread, he fisted his own cock while Brock touched his hole.
“How many men do you let fuck you?” Brock asked.
Dakota flicked his own piercing with his finger. “I’m not monogamous, but it’s not as many as I let you think.”
Brock flipped the cap of the lube open with his thumb. After squirting a dollop on his fingers, he pushed them into Dakota’s ass. “I thought I was the only one that knew you were gay?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not the only gay vampire around.” He wiggled his hips, trying to force Brock’s fingers deeper. “And I off humans I use. Why are we talking about this now?”
Brock stared at Dakota. Darius knows Dakota is gay. And that only put them both in jeopardy. Shit. Brock pushed the thought out of his mind for the moment, focusing on Dakota. They’d definitely have a conversation later on, one neither of them wanted to have. The danger of the situation posed too great of a risk to simply let things go, though.
“Sorry.” Brock leaned forward to kiss Dakota’s mouth, as he pumped his fingers and stretched the tight little hole.
Dakota smiled. “Fuck me, Brock.”
Brock had every intention of doing so. He pulled back and smeared the lube on his cock before pressing it against Dakota’s ass. The tight little muscles clenched around his dick and Brock gritted his teeth. Dakota may be no stranger to sex, but Brock’s cock was big. He propped Dakota’s legs on his shoulders and clutched his thighs, forcing every inch of his cock inside Dakota’s tight, hot heat.
“Oh, fuck,” Brock whispered. That was why sex was fast and furious between them. Once he was inside Dakota, he lasted a few thrusts and it was over. He closed his eyes and pulled his hips back slowly.
Dakota tightened his muscles and Brock’s control snapped. He pushed forward, moving vigorously as he pounded against Dakota’s ass. The mattress springs squeaked with their movements; the wooden headboard tapped against the wall behind it. Brock closed his eyes as the first pulse of pleasure beat through him. He couldn’t have stopped it even if he tried.
“Ah,” Dakota cried.
Hot spurts of come blasted from Brock as he buried himself deep inside his lover’s body. His mind swam as he watched Dakota finish, come splattering against his rippling abs.
Brock pulled away and fell to his back beside Dakota. They lay in silence, staring at the ceiling. He had to figure out what Darius wanted with Dakota. Brock glanced over at his lover and saw his eyelids droop. He really was smashed.
Groaning with the effort, Brock stood and headed to the master bath. He grabbed a wash cloth from the towel rack and wet it with warm water. He glanced at himself in the mirror. The shiner wasn’t as bold as earlier. He touched it. It didn’t hurt that bad either. Hell, he was probably smashed too.
He leaned against the vanity. “Fuck.”
He stepped away with the wash cloth and entered the bedroom again. Dakota mumbled something in his s
leep and Brock smiled. It surprised him how easily the tilt of his lips came. He sat on the edge of the bed and cleaned Dakota’s stomach.
“Mmm…” Dakota moaned, reaching for Brock’s hand. “You’re actually taking care of me?”
“Yeah.” Brock slid the rag down to Dakota’s cock. “Go back to sleep.”
Dakota chuckled. “I can’t sleep when you’re doing that.”
Brock snorted, allowing his touch to linger. He washed his lover and tossed the rag into the bathroom. Afterward, he climbed over Dakota and pulled the blankets around their bodies. Dakota rolled to his side and slid his hand down Brock’s chest, stopping when he reached his stomach.
“’Night, baby.”
Brock eyed him. Never in the two years they’d known each other had either of them used a term of endearment, and he found himself liking it. He’d never allow it outside the four walls of the bedroom, but inside, it was nice. Cosy, and completely Dakota. Brock shifted over to kiss him. “Night.”
Forever Yours
Chapter Four
“You look like shit.”
Dakota flipped Brock off as he headed into the kitchen. Food. He needed something to eat and he needed blood. Brock followed him, stopping in the doorway. He had pulled on his usual uniform of black leather, highlighting the most delicious parts of the dangerously sexy man.
“You going to make it?”
The hint of concern in Brock’s eyes touched Dakota. “I’m still around if that’s what you’re asking.”
Brock snorted. “Sit. I’ll fix you something to eat.”
Dakota didn’t argue. He sat at the small table and laid his head on his arms. He was a bartender. He served the drinks, not consumed them. “I need blood.”
Silence fell in the kitchen before Brock finally said, “Oh. Okay.”
“If you don’t want to do it, I’m not forcing you. I know neither of us has ever drunk from the other, but I think I’m going to be sick if I don’t get some in me soon.” Dakota lifted his head. “Like now.”