The Death Games

by Vannah Summers

  Epilogue

  Lea Anderson, God of Death

  ~Grant~

  A shit ton of years later…

  As I checked the clock on the wall for the third time in the past five minutes, my frown deepened when it reflected the same time glaring at me from the watch on my wrist. Sixteen minutes past the hour. Seriously? Where in the world was he? Didn’t he know what an important day this was? He was a pain in my ass, had been for years now, but being late today was pushing even my patience.

  For Death’s sake, it wasn’t every day someone was appointed as the new leader of the Afterlife! And now, we were behind schedule.

  Storming down the hall, I ensured my heavy footsteps echoed against the marble and plaster, and several staff members scurried to the side to take refuge from my wrath. My eyesight zeroed in on his bedroom door as my fist tightened around the clipboard in my grasp. Instead of knocking, I shoved it open and charged inside.

  At first, I couldn’t see him under all the covers, but at long last, I spotted him nestled in the center of the bed, his head where his feet should have been. Cinnamon curls peeked out from beneath the duvet as a soft snore reverberated through the room. A frustrated growl rumbled in my chest.

  “Lea!” He didn’t respond to my hiss, and I grunted as I crossed the room. “Lea, you’ve gotta get up. You’re late.”

  Lea stirred but didn’t open his eyes. Instead, he burrowed deeper into his covers and mumbled something that sounded like, “I need to ban the banshees.”

  With a sigh, I snatched up his phone from the edge of the bed and checked his alarms. Just as I suspected, he had snoozed all of them. Again. Even after all this time, some things never changed. I wished he would simply let the employees wake him, but he said the last thing he wanted was to wake up to their creepy asses.

  “Lea, get up!”

  Grabbing the blanket, I ripped it from the bed completely, baring his mostly naked self as he yelped unconsciously from the sudden chill. His hazel eyes snapped open, and he lurched to a sitting position as his gaze scanned the room for imminent danger. “Not the Christmas yams!” he shrieked, before his foggy gaze found me. “Wha—what’s going on?”

  I held up my watch and tapped the glass. “You’re late.”

  Rubbing the sleep from his face, Lea grumbled under his breath. “The God of Death is never late.”

  “Well, if you don’t make it to the ceremony, you might not be the God of Death.” I tore my focus away from the reddened skin of his chest where my stubble had scratched his pale flesh. Maybe he wouldn’t snooze his alarms so often if he stopped waking me up at all hours of the night to fuck.

  Yawning, he flopped onto the bed, arching his back as his lips puckered in a sexy pout. “What’s the point of being the God of Death if I can’t even sleep in?”

  Internally, I sighed at his whiny voice and took a seat on the edge of the mattress. Lea closed his eyes again, and my gaze roamed over his half-naked form. His fair skin stood out in contrast to his black sheets and bedding, tempting me to touch. Unsurprisingly, his morning erection half-tented the front of his boxer-briefs, and I shifted to alleviate the demanding need in my groin. He was as beautiful now as he was the first time I’d seen him.

  It was something I never revealed—how I had spotted him back at the D. S. D. At first, I had assumed he was a girl with his slim stature and head of ridiculous curls. But then, I heard him muttering and cursing under his breath about the electronic greeting playing on the screens, and I had to cover my laughter in my arm. My response to his foul mouth had shocked me. It was the first time I had laughed since dying. Since I’d lost my family.

  At the time, I had no idea that boy would follow me into the Death Games, that he would fight to be my friend. If someone in that moment had said this scrawny guy would curse his way into my heart, I would have laughed and admitted them to an asylum. But against all odds, Lea managed to do just that. With each breath, every smile, he dragged me deeper until I no longer wanted to see the surface.

  Even now, whining and complaining, I couldn’t help but love him. “Come on, green,” I teased, stealing one of his hands in mine. “Everyone’s waitin’ for you.”

  His chest rose with a shaky inhale, and his voice warbled as he whispered a barely audible, “I know.”

  And there it was. The real reason he didn’t want to get out of bed.

  Shoving the lack of time and our busy agenda out of my mind, I crawled across the bed and lay down on my side beside the infuriating man. He peeked at me through squinted eyes, and I smiled at him as I propped my head on my palm. “Nervous?”

  He scoffed and shoved at my chest with the strength of an ill-tempered kitten. I didn’t budge. “Psh, me? Nervous? Nah, this is nothing. I’ve basically been doing all this God of Death stuff anyway, so it’s really not that big of a deal.”

  One of my brows rose. “Liar.”

  His lips pulled down. “Am not.”

  “Are too.”

  With another punch to my chest, he scowled. “I’m not nervous, okay? My heart just keeps beating really hard and fast, and my mind can’t stop thinking about all the things that could go wron—Fuck, I’m nervous.”

  I brushed some curls away from his forehead. “There’s nothin’ wrong with that. I would be, too.”

  He swatted my hand away. “But I’m supposed to be the God of Death. Of Death! I shouldn’t be scared, Grant. I should be strong and fearless. Like a leader.”

  When he quieted, he glared at the collar of my shirt, and I brought his hand to my lips, fighting off a smile. “Just because you’re supposed to rule the Afterlife, doesn’t mean you can’t be scared. I bet some of the greatest leaders of all time were scared.” Skimming my lips over his knuckles, I smiled. “There’s nothin’ wrong with showin’ you’re human, Lea. And, you won’t be alone. You have me and countless others who support and care about you.”

  His breath sputtered through pursed lips as he sat up and hugged his knees. “I know. I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

  Sitting upright, I hummed under my breath and traced his spine with my fingertips. We waited several minutes in silence, letting the time tick by, but we couldn’t stay here forever. “I can’t promise you won’t make mistakes, Lea. That’s not possible. The last Death made plenty.

  “But what I can promise is that I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’ll be here when you’ve had a rough day. I’ll cause a distraction when you need to escape Cerberus’ annoyingly long lectures. I’ll even sneak you out for a swim after I kick your ass in combat training.” I tucked a rebellious curl behind his ear and pecked his temple, embarrassed at my sappiness as I murmured over his skin. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

  His teeth flashed, that familiar naughty gleam sparking in his eyes. “So basically what you’re saying is that you’re my servant, huh? My eternal slave.” Scandalized, I sputtered denials, but he shook his head and pressed his hand against my lips. “Shh, you don’t need to say more, Boston. I understand completely.”

  With a glare, I licked his palm, and he squealed in disgust. Tackling him onto the bed, I captured his hands and pinned them above his head. “I’m not your servant, you ass. I was just sayin’ I’d help you the best I could.” He squirmed beneath me, and I bit back a moan as his erection pressed against my inner thigh.

  “If that’s so, think you could help a brother out with this?” he asked slyly, gyrating his hips. His morning wood rubbed over the front of my already tightening slacks.

  With a ragged breath, I squeezed my eyes shut. “Lea, don’t tempt me. We don’t have time to fuck around.”

  Ripping one of his hands out of my grasp, he slowly let it travel down my frame, lingering over every dip and plane of my body. When he reached the button of my pants, I couldn’t breathe. My skin was the spark, and his hands, the oxygen; I couldn’t extinguish the fire even if I wanted to.

  “L-Lea,” I stuttered as his hand dipped inside my pants. “We really, um, should g
et…” His hand wrapped around my length, and I moaned. What was so important again?

  “What was that?” he asked coyly, and I choked on another groan as his thumb pressed to my slit. Damn his seductive grin and talented fingers.

  Leisurely, he freed me from the confines of my slacks, and I knew then and there I would be receiving a tongue-lashing from Cerberus when it was all said and done. We weren’t merely going to be late. We were going to be very, very late.

  But that was Lea. He always managed to distract me at the most inappropriate times. Even now as I indulged him, sweating out the ridiculous effort I put into styling my hair, I couldn’t stop my awe as I tracked the flush of arousal spreading down his neck. With lips swollen from blazing kisses and skin slick with sweat, I could only surrender to the fevered heat.

  When we first met, I’d found him a nuisance, like a lost puppy I couldn’t support. But really, we’d both been lost. I thought I knew what I wanted, what I needed—to win the games and live again. But Lea changed everything. I never expected to find someone like him, especially after dying. There was something to say about second chances, and even if I never got the chance to live again, I would make the most of my death with Lea at my side.

  Damn it all to hell.

  My hips surged forward, seeking friction. I couldn’t hold back as pleasure rocked through me, lighting me up from head to toe. Lea moaned beneath me and reached with slender fingers to push at my remaining clothes. I raised myself higher on my elbows to allow him room to shove my pants lower, watching as his chest rose and fell in faster breaths. When he had my pants about mid-thigh, I shucked them off and went to work sliding his boxers down his legs. His erection bobbed free, happy to be released, and I licked my lips. Hell, yes, this is worth being late for.

  With our gazes locked, a predatory smile captured my lips, and I slunk down his body until I hovered over his cock.

  A pearl pooled at his slit, and, without breaking eye contact, I leaned forward to lick it away. Lea’s breath left him in a harsh whoosh, like he’d been holding it for too long. Watching him so I wouldn’t miss a single reaction, I dipped my head lower and licked a teasing trail up his shaft. He cursed and flopped his head back on the sheets, and his hands clenched and unclenched as my mouth dropped lower. Slowly, like I had all the time in the world, I sucked and licked at his salty skin.

  His needy whimpers urged me on. With one hand propping me up on the bed, I used the other to circle his pulsing cock. As my fist pumped, his needy whimpers morphed into desperate groans. I loved the sounds he made. I loved how one caress from me could have him tipping over the edge of pleasure.

  We should have hurried, but I didn’t want to rush this. I never wanted to rush a moment with him. Never with him.

  Lea cursed when I released him and backed away. His “Death Glare,” as he had named it, was trained on me. He thought it made him appear intimidating; I thought it made him look sexy as fuck.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Motioning to his aching erection, he griped, “You trying to give me blue balls or something?”

  Rolling my eyes, I crawled across the bed and reached for his nightstand drawer. Inside were countless condom foils, lubricants, and an alarming number of sex toys. He even kept edible underwear. Even though some of his favorite toys for times like this hid within this drawer, I had something else in mind.

  When I finally found the lube, I snatched it and returned to an impatient Lea stroking his own cock. Kneeling above him, I cocked an eyebrow. “Need a hand?”

  He growled at me before his gaze settled on the bottle in my hands. His glower turned sultry, and a wicked gleam glinted in his eyes. “Strawberry flavored, huh? Doesn’t really seem fitting for someone with the honor of fucking the God of Death.”

  Grinning, I winked and leaned down until my lips brushed his ear. “This is how things are goin’ to go, God of Death,” I teased. “First, I want you to show me your pretty ass.” My teeth grazed down the lobe of his ear until my mouth rested just under his jaw. His raspy panting exhaled around me as I pressed a kiss to his neck, just beside his pulse. “Next, we’re goin’ to get you nice and lubed up so that when I take you, you’ll forget all your worries about today.”

  My tongue slid down his throat, tracing his Adam’s apple as he gulped. “Take me? What are you? Eighty?”

  I nipped his ear, and he yelped. “Shush. Now, roll over.”

  After a defiant flip of the bird, Lea obeyed. He acted tough, like my words didn’t make him ache for me, but we both knew better. At moments like this, he could relinquish control. He didn’t have to carry the Afterlife’s responsibilities on his shoulders, not with me. When it was just us, he could give in to his needs, his wants, his desires. And right now, with his head hung low and back arched, I could practically feel the anticipation rolling off of him in waves.

  My palms splayed over his ass, and he trembled with need beneath my fingers. I allowed myself a short amount of time to admire him, for my chest to fill with overwhelming love for this beautiful, snarky boy, before snatching the bottle of strawberry lube. Applying a generous amount to my fingers, then his entrance, I slowly ran my fingertips around the puckered skin. He mewled into the sheets, and his ass wiggled in impatience. But I’d already decided the pace; I wasn’t going to rush.

  Carefully, listening for any sign of pain, I slipped my finger inside to my first knuckle. He tensed around my digit at first, but after a moment, he relaxed and allowed me to sink in deeper. For several minutes, I prepared him until he moaned in pleasure as I plunged a second, then a third finger inside him.

  “More,” he pleaded, his voice raspy, needy. “Please.”

  I stopped my ministrations and gently inched my fingers out. He hissed and cursed in disappointment, but as my mouth kissed a fiery trail down his spine, his complaints died off. With a hum of satisfaction, I got to work, and the moans falling from his lips would make even the devil blush.

  “For someone with such a foul mouth, you sure have a sweet ass.” I growled against his skin, and he snarled a few half-hearted swears which then dissolved into nonsensical noise as I continued my ministrations.

  Inch by sweet inch, I savored him, and I had to hold on to his waist as his hips rode my mouth. When he clenched around my tongue, a sure sign of his impending release, I snaked a hand under his hips and jerked him hard and fast. He gasped as his orgasm rolled through him, and I milked every last pulse of his cock with my fingers.

  As he fought to recover his breath, I wiped my now sticky hand on his sheets. He collapsed forward, his face sinking into his dark bedding, but I wasn’t finished. Gripping his hips, I lifted them higher, and his hands scrambled for purchase as I moved him just how I needed.

  He peered at me over his shoulder, his eyes dazed from pleasure, and I grinned as I lubed up my cock. “You good?” I checked in. At his nod, I plunged into him like my cock demanded.

  His mouth opened to speak, but to say what, I would never know. With his permission granted, I lost myself inside him.

  I would never tire of this view, his head thrown back as he surrendered to the heat and pleasure of our bodies grinding together. Today was no different. Sometimes, we took things slow, wasting time as we indulged. But not this time. This was rough and fast and everything I knew he needed.

  Heat, lust, and love spurred us on as I took him hard, and his hand wrapped around his cock as it stiffened again. Once we finished, he’d be sore—hell, we’d both be sore—but as the pleasure built to bursting inside me, I didn’t give a damn.

  Moments later, we found our release together.

  As the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through his body, Lea collapsed to the mattress, and I followed as I swiped the sweat from my face and caught my breath. I used his discarded underwear to clear the evidence of our activities from our bodies, and he melted into the bed as I propped myself on my elbow and gazed down at him.

  Dragging a finger up and down his sternum, I chuckled a
s a sated smile formed on his lips. When my fingertips traced over his heart, I paused. Slowly, I settled my palm over his chest, feeling the quick pace of his heartbeat beneath my hand. At the gesture, his eyes opened and his curious gaze sought mine.

  “You know,” I said, staring at my hand on his chest, “I never thought I would be happy my life ended. I still miss my family, every fuckin’ day. But, I’m happy, being here with you. I don’t know what the future holds, but this…” I added pressure to his chest as my neck heated, but I persevered through the embarrassment. “This is everything I could have wished for.”

  “Grant—”

  I interrupted him, needing to get this out, regardless of how sappy it was. “Thank you for fightin’ for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I promise to make you as happy as you make me, as long as you’ll have me.”

  I expected the smack to my chest as his face bloomed with embarrassment. He huffed out a breath as he sat straight, and my gaze tracked the covers as they fell down his naked body.

  “When did you turn into such a sap?” he teased, his voice breathless, and I flipped him my middle finger as he shoved off the bed and crossed to his wardrobe.

  I took my time admiring his ass while his back was to me, smiling to myself as I spotted the red handprint on the side from moments before. We’d only just finished, yet my body yearned for him all over again. He was like a drug, and I was more than satisfied in my addiction.

  After disentangling myself from the damp sheets, I scooted off the bed, crossed the room, then slipped my arms around his waist. He inhaled as our skin brushed together, and I dipped my head to claim his neck with my lips.

  “W-We’re going to be late.” His chiding words lacked conviction, his tone almost desperate.

  I hummed as I skimmed my nose up the length of his neck until my lips hovered over his ear. “We’re already late.”

  Lazily, he disentangled from me and turned around. With serious, hazel eyes, he gazed at me with rare vulnerability. This was one of my favorite expressions of his, where he didn’t try to hide behind snark or wit. No, this look was raw, open.