Mark shuddered as Cyrus pulled out of him. Cyrus pressed a single tender kiss against Mark’s shoulder, and Mark turned around, watching Cyrus remove the condom and tie it off.
“That was…” Mark trailed off. He couldn’t think of any words.
“That was amazing,” Cyrus said with a look of wonderment. “I’m not too proud to tell you that it’s never been so great for me with anyone.”
Mark nodded. “Same here.”
That monstrous thing inside him—it had something to do with the amazing sex, but he didn’t know how to tell Cyrus about it. Nothing like that had ever happened before.
Cyrus gave him that crooked, devilish grin once more. “Shower?”
Mark pretended to consider the offer. “Does that mean you might be up for going again?”
Cyrus pointed to his semi-hard cock. It was still gigantic. “Hell yeah.”
Cyrus
Cyrus woke up to the sweet scent of Mark—smoke and apples. He wished he could make a cologne out of that scent, or maybe an air freshener. He’d spray it all over his sheets.
The two of them had made love all night long. First against the wall in the hallway, which was going to be forever in Cyrus’s memory as one of the hottest moments of his life—Mark’s groans and moans as Cyrus had pressed into him, the tight way his ass had massaged Cyrus’s cock…damn, he was already hard and getting harder again.
He pressed his lips against Mark’s bicep. Beautiful man. Cyrus could cherish Mark forever.
No. He made himself shake away the thought. Nothing lasts forever, and especially not something with a man who has so much reason to hate dragons. It could never work between them.
Cyrus’s regrets were bringing him down. He kissed Mark’s forehead right beneath those cherubic golden curls, then slid quietly out of bed.
He’d make Mark breakfast, something like bacon, eggs, and maybe waffles. All the guys at the station loved it when it was Cyrus’s turn to cook breakfast. While Cyrus could hold his own for dinner as long as it wasn’t much more complicated than pasta with sauce from a jar, he was an expert at breakfast. He wondered if Mark liked eggs benedict, or maybe crepes, or if that would be working too hard to impress him.
Fuck it, he wanted to impress Mark. Yes, it was painful getting so close to another man and then not being able to share his secrets, but Cyrus was willing to risk that pain for just another day with Mark. And if Mark stuck around, Cyrus was happy to risk that pain for as long as possible.
He mixed the eggs and flour together for crepes, all the while thinking. Maybe Mark would be free today. Cyrus wouldn’t mind taking him out toward the back of the property where there was a great hiking trail. It led to a small pond where a rock jutted over the water, perfect for resting on and watching the clouds breeze by.
Or if Mark wasn’t into nature, maybe they could go catch a movie. Go out to a fancy restaurant—always a nice option, especially since Cyrus wasn’t great at making dinner. Or maybe Mark would just want to stay in and they could snack on whatever was in the refrigerator and cupboards. Cyrus lost himself in thoughts of feeding Mark pieces of fruit one by one, and Mark sucking Cyrus’s fingers clean.
Yeah, the thought of losing Mark like he’d lost Jonas back in New York was terrifying, especially because he already cared for Mark in a way that felt far more profound than anything he’d felt for Jonas. But oh, the idea of spending more time with Mark was too much of a temptation to resist.
Mark
When Mark woke up, he knew exactly where he was. Not Jenny’s couch. Not his old apartment. He was in Cyrus’s bed, and he didn’t think he could belong anywhere else now.
On the nightstand, his phone buzzed with an incoming text. Jenny, probably, checking up on him.
Jenny: OMG are you okay?
Jenny: Have you heard?
Jenny: Call me. Wait, you’re still with Hottie McFiremanpants, aren’t you? Check the news, okay? And call me!
Mark sat up. His right arm was completely numb because he’d slept at a weird angle, unused to sharing a bed with someone. He stretched, feeling soreness in his body that he hadn’t felt in a long time. That had been an incredible night of sex. Cyrus might have ruined him for all other men.
He didn’t much care about being ruined for all other men. He just wanted Cyrus.
“Ow ow ow,” he muttered as his arm started to wake up. He held it as still as possible and texted Jenny back one-handed. What’s going on?
Jenny: Just check the news.
Infuriating best friend. Mark huffed impatiently and pulled on his jeans with one hand. For the first time, he had a chance to look at Cyrus’s bedroom—last night he’d been a little distracted. There was an en-suite bathroom, which Mark quickly used. The walls of the bedroom were a dark gray, and the windows were shrouded in silvery-colored curtains. The bed itself was huge, a California King, with a black set of sheets and duvet. A dusty blue area rug covered most of the floor, which was a wood stained so dark that it looked black.
Maybe Cyrus had been a bear in a previous life, because it looked to Mark that Cyrus was trying to live in a cave.
Chuckling to himself, Mark made his way down the hall. He saw the spot where he and Cyrus had fucked against the wall—identifiable from their shoes left on the floor. His body heated at the memory and he felt horny all over again. Wow, he had it bad for this guy.
Now that his arm wasn’t asleep anymore, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up his daily news app. What he saw there nearly made him drop the phone.
Dragons.
DRAGONS ARE AMONG US, the headline read. It was a major news station. THIS IS NOT A HOAX.
The dragons weren’t all killed in the nuclear onslaught after the Dragon Floods. Worse, they are living among us, looking just like humans. Below is footage taken in Los Angeles yesterday. Please note, the recording contains disturbing images and viewer discretion is advised.
Beneath that was film footage that looked like it had been taken from somebody’s social media account. Mark didn’t want to look, but he had to. Reluctantly, he tapped the little triangle to play the footage.
The videographer was an amateur, and it looked like he’d just been scanning city sights in the late afternoon. A fight broke out in one corner of the frame, and the person holding the camera zoomed in on it. Two men were arguing. The smaller one seemed to be getting angrier and angrier. Suddenly, his skin shimmered. There was no better word for it; he looked as if he were surrounded in a bright green aura of light.
Mark gasped as the aura exploded outward. The small, angry man was gone, and in his place stood a roaring dragon. Screams erupted from the crowd that had been growing around the argument, and people fled in all directions. The video cut to shaky views of the sidewalk and then went black.
Unable to do anything except panic, Mark ran down the hall to the living room. “Cyrus!” he shouted. “Cyrus!”
“In here,” Cyrus called. “You okay?”
Mark ran into the room off the living room, but his toe caught on the edge of the center island. He pitched forward and his hand landed on the stovetop. It was warm, but didn’t burn him, so he stood up and breathlessly said, “Dragons.”
“Mark, is your hand okay?” Cyrus grabbed Mark’s arm and looked at the skin on his palm.
Mark shrugged. “It’s fine. But Cyrus—there are dragons! They can look like—they can look like people!”
Cyrus looked from the stove to Mark’s hand, but then shook his head. “Tell me everything,” he said, kneeling in front of Mark.
Mark sank to the floor next to him and showed Cyrus his phone.
Together they watched the video again and again, Mark shaking in Cyrus’s arms.
“What does it mean?” Mark finally asked.
“Things are…much different than everybody had thought,” Cyrus said carefully, slowly.
“It’s one thing to think they’re all nuked, find out one survived, and nuke it, too,” Mark said. “But how do we nu
ke them all when they can look like us?”
Cyrus pulled away, and Mark felt bereft.
“Sorry,” Mark said. “I’m getting intense again, aren’t I?”
He couldn’t quite understand the look on Cyrus’s face. Cyrus’s beautiful gray eyes were in shadows, and Mark had the uncomfortable feeling that his words had put those shadows there.
Running his hand over his dark hair, Cyrus said, “Look, last night was amazing. I enjoyed every second of being with you. But maybe things are moving too fast.”
Mark couldn’t believe it. This was the line he’d been thinking it was his job to say, not Cyrus’s. Only Mark had changed his mind—he wasn’t going to say it because he wanted nothing more than to be with Cyrus.
Hot tears gathered in his eyes, and he turned quickly. No way would he let Cyrus see how much he was hurting. “Yeah, sure. I agree.”
“Look, I’ll call you a cab,” Cyrus said.
Mark walked slowly from the room. “I’ll just wait in the drive,” he called over his shoulder. He wanted Cyrus to argue that it was too cold outside and Mark should wait indoors, but Cyrus didn’t say anything.
Mark didn’t wait long, but his feet were nearly freezing by the time the cab arrived.
When the cab dropped him off at home, the driver said the ride was already paid for. Mark passed him some bills for the tip, then walked up to Jenny’s apartment, miserable to his bones.
Cyrus
Cyrus slammed his hand against the kitchen island. “Fuck!” he shouted. “Fuck!”
Not only were dragons now outed as being able to shift into humans, but Mark knew, and Mark wished he could nuke them.
It would never work out, and Cyrus had been a fool. “Oh, you’d risk everything for more time with Mark, huh?” he taunted himself. “The pain is worth it?”
The pain wasn’t worth it. He’d been a complete and utter fool. The beginnings of fire grew in his chest, and he had to will himself to keep it together before he burned down his house.
He tossed the crepe batter in the trash and went to his room. It smelled like sex and Mark. He threw open the window to let in fresh air. Automatically he got dressed for a hike in the woods. He needed to get out of this place, because it would take forever for Mark’s scent to fade away, and every new whiff of apples and smoke made Cyrus’s chest clench in agony.
Quickly he brushed his teeth, but in his anger, the heat came back. His toothbrush melted, and he swore as he tossed it in the trash. He could do nothing right today.
The freezing air outside was a comfort, and he hiked for hours. He avoided the pond that he’d thought Mark would enjoy. When he came to a clearing, he removed his clothes and shifted into his dragon form. He shouldn’t be doing this—it wasn’t safe, especially not now that humankind knew that the dragons were still alive and living among humans.
What a huge mess. Cyrus didn’t know what to do. Would the guys at the station suspect he was a dragon? He could hide it, probably. He’d take fewer risks, pretend to be more bothered by the heat.
But what he really wanted to do was still see Mark.
The problem was, Mark wanted to obliterate Cyrus and his kind from the face of the earth.
Cyrus shifted from foot to foot, stretching his wings. He wished he could fly, but now it was riskier than ever.
After a few minutes of enjoying the world in his dragon form, Cyrus shifted back to human. He put his clothes back on and returned to the house.
Once inside, he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and sat down. The living room felt empty. The whole house felt empty. Cyrus flicked on the television for noise. The news was on, of course. Widespread panic in all the major cities, people freaking the hell out because of dragons.
An anchor came on, her voice serious but sugary sweet. “A new development in the dragon revelation. Scientists have already discovered a way to test DNA for what they’re calling the Dragon Genes, and a movement is forming of concerned citizens who want everyone to be tested and tattooed on their hands to show that they aren’t dragons.”
The view switched over to footage of a tiny woman trying to shout over an enraged crowd. She was saying something about basic rights and prejudice, but nobody was listening to her. Suddenly, she leaped, shimmered, and shot into the air as a dragon. The vengeful crowd fell back, screaming in terror.
Flapping her wings to hover above them, she growled, “We have not hurt humankind in five years. Many of us want to live peacefully. Let us live in peace.”
Two boys started throwing rocks at her, and she flew away.
“This isn’t the only instance of dragons voluntarily coming forward,” the news anchor explained. “A few other spokespeople have come up, revealing that they’ve been living quietly among us as humans. Already coalitions are forming to protect dragon ‘rights’…”
Cyrus muted, then turned off, the television. This was turning into a big fucking mess.
Mark
Mark winced at the bright sunlight coming from Jenny’s living room window.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Jenny sang, tying back the curtains she’d just opened.
He pulled a pillow over his face. His chest ached, and it took him all of two seconds to remember that his heart was broken. Cyrus. Cyrus had kicked him out two days ago, and Mark still wasn’t over it.
“You know,” Jenny said, “my mom had this song she would sing every morning when she woke me up. I can’t remember all the words, but it went something like, ‘Gooooood morning, good morning dear heart, I la-la-la-la—’”
“Stop, stop! I’m getting up,” Mark said. “Just don’t torture me anymore.”
Jenny pushed his legs aside and sat next to him on the couch. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Shitty.”
“Oh, honey.” Jenny pulled her brown curls up into a ponytail. “Maybe we should go somewhere today. No more sitting around and watching movies where people explode. What if we went sledding? That would be fun.”
“Sledding?” Mark shuddered. “That’s only fun for people who actually enjoy being cold.”
“Fine, we can go to the mall. You can help me pick out a Christmas present for my dad. He’s impossible to buy for, so that should take all day.”
“Jenny, I really just want to be left alone.”
“I can’t let you keep moping. It hurts me to see you hurting.”
Mark bit his lip. He didn’t want to bring Jenny down, but he really didn’t want to go anywhere. Maybe it was time to get his own place. He still had access to the insurance money from the fire—he could stay in a hotel. The thing was, he loved Jenny and he knew it would hurt her if he took off.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” Jenny said. “You think it’s better for you to stay in and mope, and maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome here. Not even true—neither of them. I adore having you here because you make way better margaritas than I make. And it is not better for you to mope because you had a shitload of fun at the bar the other night.”
“Right. And I met Cyrus.”
“And you had—and I quote—‘the best sex of your life,’ didn’t you?”
“Right. Followed by the worst heartache.”
Someone knocked at the door, and Jenny stood up. “Go take a shower and we’ll head to the mall. Help me in my hour of need, okay?”
Mark sighed, stood up, and shuffled to the bathroom. He’d just closed the door when he heard Jenny’s voice raise in pitch, as if she were arguing with someone. “Jenny?” he called.
“I told you, no,” Jenny said. “You messed things up, and this is really not a good time.”
A low voice responded. If this was one of Jenny’s ex-boyfriends, come to harass her, Mark would set him straight.
Not wanting to wait and risk that Jenny was in danger, Mark ran back to the front room, wearing only his pajama pants. He hovered protectively behind Jenny, ready to take out whatever asshole had come here to bother her.
But the person
in her doorway was Cyrus.
“He’s hurting,” Jenny was saying to Cyrus. “If you really want to talk to him, you should call him like a normal person, not try to barge in here—”
“Cyrus,” Mark said.
Cyrus shifted his attention from Jenny to Mark. “Mark. I’m—I’m sorry.”
Jenny turned to Mark. “Do you want to talk to him or shall I send him running? I might be small but I’ve got a mean right hook.”
Mark bent down and kissed the top of Jenny’s head. “You are my knight in shining armor. Thank you. But I’ll talk to him.”
Cyrus
Cyrus stared in open admiration at the hard planes of Mark’s chest, at the way his six-pack dipped toward the waistline of his pajama pants. Two days without Mark, and Cyrus was going crazy for him. There was so much uncertainty in the world right now, but Cyrus was certain about one major thing: he wanted Mark more than he wanted to breathe. Whatever happened, he needed Mark by his side.
Mark raised his eyebrows at Cyrus. “So you wanted to talk?”
“Yeah.” Cyrus cleared his throat. “Do you want to, uh, put some clothes on? We could go for a walk.”
“Yeah, sure.” Mark closed the door in Cyrus’s face.
Cyrus deserved it. He maybe deserved worse after sending Mark away like he’d done the other morning.
The door opened again and Mark stood before him in jeans, a coat, and a pair of boots.
“I preferred the pajama bottom look,” Cyrus began.
“Don’t start. I think we have to be serious if we’re going to talk at all,” Mark said.
Cyrus nodded. “You’re right.”
He followed Mark down the hall and to the stairs that led to the rear of the apartment building. There was a parking lot to one side, but the other side was an enclosed courtyard with a swimming pool that was currently covered for the winter.
Mark gestured to the courtyard around them, and Cyrus took in the details—a low stone wall, a series of bushes that looked scraggly in the cold, the blank expanse of concrete where pool chairs would normally be splayed out like human limbs, waiting to soak up the sun’s warmth.
Arrested by the Dragon: Gay Police Paranormal Romance Page 10