Bloodlines

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Bloodlines Page 13

by Alex Kidwell


  Jed’s heels dug into the ground as he sucked in a quick breath, as he spread his legs farther for Redford. One of Jed’s hands dropped to Redford’s hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands. “God, Red,” he managed, voice throaty and low. “Fuck, that’s so good.” As much as Redford could with his mouth full, he grinned again, the expression in his eyes. He was addicted to making Jed come undone.

  He let his eyes fall closed, concentrating on the scent of pine and gunpowder, the heavy weight of Jed’s cock on his tongue, the gasps and groans Jed was making. Redford knew Jed’s favorite moves, and he employed them with enthusiasm, drawing back to tease, licking at the tip and using his hand, watching the almost frustrated little frown that Jed would get. But making Jed lose his mind also had the effect of making Redford very quickly get single-minded too, so he stopped teasing, stopped the light touches, and took Jed as deep as he could—he was almost at the point where he could deep-throat Jed, and practice made perfect, as Jed was fond of saying—lifting Jed’s hips to encourage him.

  Yelping out a surprised little whimper, Jed scrambled his free hand into the dirt. His eyes were closed, that look of blissful concentration on his face as he gave himself over to Redford. There was so much trust there. Jed wasn’t watching his back, wasn’t worried about what happened next. His body rolled up into Redford’s mouth, and Jed was moaning loudly, uncensored and uncaring who might hear. All he cared about in that second was Redford. Reaching up, Redford took Jed’s hand, twisting their fingers together.

  Maybe he’d have to practice deep-throating more often, if this was the reaction he got.

  His eyes still closed, Redford redoubled his efforts, one hand curled under Jed’s hip to lift him up slightly. If Jed’s whole world was the pleasure right now, then Redford’s was the giving of it, in tune with every little noise Jed made, every faint twitch of his muscles. He smoothed his fingertips over Jed’s hip, down to his thigh, smoothing his palm over the trembles he could feel that told him Jed was getting close. He wanted to turn his head and bite at the muscles, but with his mouth busy, Redford used his fingernails instead, scraping over soft skin, laughing to himself when Jed’s leg jumped.

  That little touch of pain with the ecstasy was what tipped Jed over. Redford could see it happen when he opened his eyes again—the blush that curled across Jed’s body, the way his eyes were glazed over with need, the twitches in his muscles, the soft, keening gasps of air. With a hoarse moan of Redford’s name, Jed came, body jerking up like it was caught on a string before he sagged back into the grass, panting and spent.

  Redford gave in to the urge to bite Jed’s thigh then, just lightly enough that it only left a faint red mark, and propped his chin on Jed’s hip. Their hands were still joined, and he squeezed Jed’s fingers, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. Redford heaved himself up and knelt next to Jed. Though he was still aroused, he was content, more than happy to just watch Jed come down from the high.

  “I think that might be my favorite sight in the world,” he murmured, carding his fingers through Jed’s hair.

  “Nah,” Jed said, voice still all slurred and happy. “Best thing is you smiling. Then a good steak. Then you smiling with a good steak. I’m, like, number five, tops.” But he slowly arched his neck up to kiss Redford, hands painting a path down his back.

  Bending down, curled over Jed, Redford hummed a happy noise against his lips. “I said my favorite thing,” he replied. “I have my own list, and you’re at the top of it. Steak is much lower down.” And, needless to say, Redford’s smile wasn’t on his own list. He wasn’t a big fan of looking into the mirror.

  “What about Knievel?” Jed asked seriously, but his fingers were creeping up Redford’s sides, brushing just below that spot Jed knew made Redford squirm. Redford gave him a suspicious look. “She’s very important. Is she on this list of yours?”

  Jed’s fingers sneaked higher, and, grinning, Redford attempted to bat his hand away. “Yes, the cat rates on the list,” he replied. Jed’s oh-so-innocent face wasn’t fooling him. “Getting to my ticklish spot is not on the list.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” With wide eyes, Jed looked up at him, the very picture of innocence. That was, until he attacked, hands sliding just above Redford’s ribs, tickling him, with a huge grin. Redford yelped, scrambling away, slapping at Jed’s hands to no avail.

  “Jed!” Redford protested, laughing, leaping up and taking a few short steps away—and now he felt ridiculous, standing in the middle of the woods, naked, still very turned on.

  Jed didn’t seem to care. There was a very predatory gleam in his eyes as he stood gracefully and stalked over to Redford. He grasped Redford’s hips, pulling him in with a low little growl, which Redford happily responded to, leaning into him. Nipping sharply at Redford’s lower lip, Jed murmured, “I’m counting to ten, and then I’m coming to get you, Fido.”

  Taking a step back, Jed grinned, covering his eyes. “One,” he counted, apparently not caring that he was stark naked, fifty feet away from the van where Victor was sleeping. “Two. Three.” He peeked through his fingers. Redford hadn’t moved, staring at Jed in vague confusion. “Better go, babe. I’m not going to go easy on you.” Then, eyes covered again, “Four.”

  If this was a game that Jed knew, Redford definitely wasn’t familiar with it. But he caught on pretty quick, because the rules seemed easy, and Redford could never resist that grin. So as Jed said, “Five,” Redford turned and took off, trying not to laugh. For the first few steps, he felt awkward, like he should be running on all fours if he was going to be running at all. But he settled into it, concentrating on the ground under his feet, the wind rushing past him, and it was just as good as last night. Better, even, because he knew Jed wasn’t far behind him.

  When Jed started running, Redford could hear him. Jed was stealthy when he wanted to be, but at that moment, to a wolf’s ears, he sounded like an elephant crashing through the forest. Redford took a sharp left turn, ducking behind a tree, grinning to himself as Jed ran right past him. The sound of Jed’s laughter trailed after him, and Jed turned, spinning in a tight circle, looking for him.

  “Come out, come out,” Jed called, eyes bright in the early morning dimness. “Or I’ll huff and puff and suck you right off.”

  Redford couldn’t help it. “That’s not how it goes,” he replied. Then, realizing he’d given his position away, he darted out from behind the tree, tossing Jed a smirk over his shoulder as he sped in the other direction. Next time he’d just have to refrain from questioning Jed about incorrect references.

  He heard the quick noise of Jed’s bare feet through dried leaves, the soft puff of breath hanging on the chill morning air, and then Jed tackled him from behind. They rolled together through the underbrush, Jed finally pinning him, both laughing until they couldn’t move. “I win,” Jed crowed, arms in the air like the prizefighters Jed liked watching so much.

  Which, of course, gave Redford the perfect opening to twist them around, sprawling on top of Jed and giving his own little smirk. “Who won?” he asked innocently, a gleam in his eye as Jed sagged back onto the ground.

  “Nice moves, Fido,” Jed teased. “And who taught you how to do that?”

  Jed had, obviously. “Maybe I’m just a natural,” Redford replied. “It could all be part of the wolf instincts, you know. How to get out of a hold.”

  Snorting out a laugh, Jed reached up, hauling Redford in for a kiss. “That must be it,” he mumbled against Redford’s lips. “You’re all natural.” As if to demonstrate this, his hand closed around Redford’s cock again, stroking it slowly as Redford arched into the touch with a hiss, eyes falling half-closed. Far from making his arousal die down, the chase had magnified it. Jed’s thumb rubbed against the head of his cock, and he huffed out a laugh. “Left the lube in the van,” Jed grumbled. “I’m just going to have to finger fuck you the old fashioned way.” The words had a bolt of heat shooting through Redford’s body, and he kissed Jed agai
n, hard and wanting.

  Grip strong on Redford’s hips, Jed hauled him up to sit over his face, tongue teasing down his cock to press against his hole. The suddenness of the move had Redford’s legs jerking, and he slammed his hands against the ground above Jed’s head, fingers digging into soft soil and brittle leaves, laughing shakily. “Maybe a little warning next time so I don’t fall over and break your nose,” he breathed.

  Jed’s voice was rather muffled. “What’s the fun in that?” And then he buried his face under Redford, tongue licking along the curve of his ass, twisting around his hole, long moments of nothing but teasing until Redford was rocking back, desperate for more. Jed’s tongue pressed inside of him slowly, fucking in and out with deliberate restraint. Jed knew how much Redford loved this. He took great pleasure in making Redford go crazy with want. It was amazing and frustrating all at the same time, making Redford grab a handful of Jed’s hair and tug.

  Responding with a low moan, Jed nudged his finger in alongside his tongue. Slowly, carefully, just to the first knuckle at the start, Jed toyed with the pressure and friction until his finger was sliding in and out of Redford, brushing against his prostate with every other thrust. His tongue moved with it in time, hot and wet and perfect.

  The threat of accidentally falling over and breaking Jed’s nose was becoming more of a possibility by the second. Jed loved this position, Redford knew quite well, but every time he felt like he was just going to collapse and something very unsexy would happen. Still, it was difficult to think about any of that, with Jed so intense.

  “Jed,” Redford tried to warn, tugging at his hair again, muffling a moan around a bitten lip as Jed decided that adding a second finger was an awesome idea. “Seriously, I’m going to—” Oh, God, his knee was beginning to slip, and he didn’t care because everything that Jed was doing felt incredible. All he could think about was moving into Jed’s fingers and tongue, his gaze focused sightlessly on the woods ahead of them, the scents of pine and arousal and gunpowder overwhelming him.

  One moment slipped into the next, the sounds of the forest waking up around them, of Redford’s bitten off gasps and moans, surrounding them. It was like everything stopped, everything, and Redford was achingly aware of the wind through the trees sliding over his skin, of Jed’s heartbeat a steady throb underneath him, of the way Jed was moving and the growing twist of arousal. Every second turned into a wave, every wave crashed into him, over and over, until Redford couldn’t feel anything but this.

  For once, everything in him—the wolf instincts and his own mind—were in perfect harmony. And it wasn’t that unknown growl that rumbled Mate-Jed-Journey in the back of his thoughts, it was his own voice.

  Digging his fingers deeper into the soft ground, Redford tipped his head back as Jed eased his fingers still deeper, and the orgasm that crashed through him made his vision blur at the edges, unexpectedly intense, a kind of freedom to it that Redford had never felt before. He was dimly aware of grinning, laughing, and then flopping down on Jed to happily nuzzle at his neck, feeling like every inch of his skin was buzzing.

  He couldn’t believe how good he felt. How, for the first time, every part of him was perfectly content. Blowing out a happy sigh, Redford leaned up on hands and knees to give Jed a light kiss. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, eyes still half-closed in contentment. “We should do that every full moon.”

  “Sweetheart, I’d do that every morning if you’d let me.” Jed’s voice was teasing, but he was looking up at him with a strange mix of expressions. Jed kissed his forehead and combed his fingers through Redford’s hair, that softness on his face that only seemed to come out in moments like this.

  There was that guilt on Jed’s face again. It was nearly impossible to notice, and it was mostly covered by Jed’s usual look of tired contentment after sex. Redford knew why now, but he didn’t think Jed should feel guilty. His staying in the cage and the basement was his own choice.

  “Come on, we should probably get dressed before everybody else arrives,” Redford sighed, reluctantly getting off of Jed. He offered a hand to Jed, helping him up, wrapping an arm around his waist. As much as he kind of wished Jed could go around naked all the time, it sadly wasn’t feasible. Even if he was sure Jed would love the idea too.

  “Gonna need your nose on that one, Fido,” Jed murmured, kissing just in front of Redford’s ear, their hands lacing together. “Not even sure where we left them.”

  Redford raised his chin slightly, closing his eyes as he scented the air. “This way,” he decided, leading Jed back through the woods and toward the clearing again. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have known the way back either, if not for his nose. He hadn’t really been thinking about directions during their chasing game.

  Jed had left his clothes scattered in the clearing, and they were now appropriated as Knievel’s napping spot. She’d come out of the van apparently for the sole purpose of shedding all over Jed’s shirt. They both showered her with attention until she stalked off, and Redford left Jed to get dressed while he cautiously crept up toward the van. His own clothes were packed in a backpack, left resting against the wheel, and since there was no flustered exclamation, he had to assume that Victor was still asleep. He got dressed, tugging boxers, jeans, and a T-shirt on, then socks and his boots. After digging deeper into the backpack, Redford put his necklace on and tucked it under his shirt, and then slipped his bracelet onto his wrist. These days, he didn’t go too long without wearing both items—the whistle and Jed’s dog tags looped on a chain and the lapis lazuli scarab bracelet Jed had bought him in Cairo. They were good-luck charms, things that he wanted to keep with him at all times, even if Redford knew the idea of “good luck” was just a superstition.

  Jed had gotten them for him. And if he was ever apart from Jed, for any reason, Redford could look at the jewelry and know that Jed was coming back. He’d always come back, because he’d promised.

  Behind him, Jed was cursing as he accidentally put his shirt on inside out, so Redford opened the van door as quietly as he could. The sound still woke Victor, who blinked owlishly at him and then seemed to remember where he was with a faint groan. He sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s morning already?”

  “The others should be getting back soon,” Redford replied, reaching for a water bottle. “How did you sleep?”

  “Horrendously.” Victor smiled dryly. He rolled his shoulders with a wince. “But I’m sure we’ll all get a decent night’s sleep when we arrive at the compound.”

  From far off in the forest, Redford could hear the distant noise of the Lewises coming closer—one two-legged beat and two four-legged beats. When they emerged, Edwin was happily running circles around Anthony, who was still a wolf, and Randall, who seemed more comfortable being human. Randall nodded at them both, a faint blush staining his cheeks as he reached for his clothes.

  “I didn’t think you’d be awake yet,” he mumbled in Victor’s general direction. For his part, Victor had gone red and seemed determined not to stare at Randall and his current state of nudity. The confidence that Randall had worn so easily last night seemed faded a bit in the sunlight. Edwin, however, changed back to his human form with the same rakish grin, climbing into his clothes and sprawling over Randall’s back in a hug.

  “Wasn’t that great?” he enthused. “You got up early, Redford. Shoulda said something. I totally would have gone for a swim before we had to come back. Also, you missed breakfast. Ant got us the best rabbits. Randall ate two. That’s how you know they were good.”

  Randall flushed deeper. “No one cares, Ed,” he said, straightening his sweater, grimacing as he pulled a leaf out of his hair. “Get in the van.”

  “I’m sad I missed it,” Redford said, the end of his sentence trending upward in a tentative tone. He surprised himself by saying the words genuinely, though. It did sound nice. He was just still unsure as to whether he really fit with them and their family, and whether or not he was intruding.

  Antho
ny, still a wolf, was circling around the van, nose to the ground as he, presumably, checked to see if anything had happened over the night. When he’d made a full circle, he changed back, grinning as easily as Edwin. “We’d love to have you along, Redford,” he said. “As often as you want.”

  There was a moment where Redford was sure Anthony would hug him—the Lewises seemed so easy with their affection, so free about tumbling all over each other in a very wolfish manner—but the man just smiled at him, squeezing his arm and moving over to ruffle Randall’s hair. It was kind of a relief. Redford wasn’t sure how to do things like that, how to hug and roughhouse and be a part of something that messy and big. At the same time, he did like hugs. Jed gave very nice hugs.

  Randall had ducked out of his brother’s grip, grabbing a bottle of water and a small bag. He walked a few steps away, dug out a toothbrush, and quickly scrubbed his teeth, following it with a gargle of mouthwash. Victor had climbed out of the van, stretching with a groan, and Jed had finally managed to get dressed and was walking back to the van with Knievel under one arm, who was yowling her protests about leaving.

  It was all more than a little domestic, Redford realized. Getting ready for a long trip in the early hours of the morning, with Anthony bustling around and making sure everybody was okay. Victor had turned bright red again because Anthony was cheerfully rubbing his shoulders, talking about muscle knots and how bad they were if you left them alone.

  Randall came back and handed the bag off to Edwin, urging him to wash up. Digging around in the luggage, Randall produced what appeared to be a battery-operated hot plate, which he immediately set about making tea on. His shoulders slumped a little, and Randall absently rubbed the back of his neck, looking tired. He kept cutting glances over at Anthony and Edwin. Redford realized, all at once, that he was worried. It was easy to forget what was happening, especially after last night. Anthony didn’t seem to be letting his illness slow him down, Edwin was relentlessly cheerful, and Redford almost didn’t notice how Randall appeared to be gathering all the stress and piling it onto his own back, bit by bit.

 

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