Discovery

by Thianna Durston

  Something would need to be done about Vinishad. And soon. Physically he was strong, but he was less than a century old and thought he should rule. He had gained his station in the clutch before Faolen had arrived. Killing their leader Daroden had earned his space as head of their clutch, but garnering their fear was far easier than attaining their respect. While Kimil had a good sense of fear, Vinishad seemed to be lacking that particular emotion. Anger was its replacement and anger and an overabundance of self-importance caused the kind of situation that had happened tonight.

  Faolen could not remember exactly how long it had been since he was first created, but in all his long years, he had seen it again and again. Vinishad’s kind were dangerous. Far more dangerous than one drakyl. Drakyl were dying out, anyway. He saw no reason to worry about such a pitiful race. But Vinishad he would keep both eyes on.

  Chapter Four

  The drive to town took thirty minutes and Aaron had been on the road since the sun officially went behind the trees. It had been a long time since he’d done this, but something inside told him this was probably his last spring, his final summer. And if that was so? Then he was going to have some fun. His being gay had not bothered his uncle or cousins at all. The same could not be said for some of the men on neighboring ranches. For several years, he’d taken a week to disappear, driving to the closest large city he could hide in, and delved into the gay club scene. But there was something that bothered him each time he did, some unknown fear that made the hair on his arms rise and his heart beat faster. He stopped five years ago when the fear became terror and had taken to visiting the bar in the closest town. There, he had found men who were closeted but willing to risk a hand or blowjob in a nearby alley. It wasn’t the best he could imagine, but it got his needs met. Plus, the terror never encroached there.

  The closer he got to town, his thoughts turned to who he might see. Maybe Isaac or Charlie. They could be relied on for a pretty decent hand job. Or Devon, who refused to give blowjobs but certainly enjoyed receiving one. Seeing the speed limit sign ahead, he slowed down to the requisite fifteen miles per hour as he pulled down the only street in town that held businesses: the post office with its crumbling walls, a grocery which at one time had been a feed store, a barber/hair salon, and the bakery. The place was pitiful, but it would hopefully be what he needed it to be tonight. It was another three miles before he reached TJ’s Tavern. The wooden siding of the building looked as though it would fall down at any moment. But then again, it had looked like that since the first time he saw it years ago. Warped wood combined with faded spray paint made it look more like a twisted piece of art. He assumed that was why TJ’s wife never painted over it after her husband passed on.

  Parking across the street, he got out of the cab and quickly made his way over. The front swinging doors looked like they belonged in a nineteenth century saloon. Entering through those doors just brought the theme home. Round tables, a piano in the corner that as far as Aaron knew had never been played, the bar, and the quintessential barkeep. Well, almost quintessential.

  “Aaron, we haven’t seen you here for a while,” Bette, TJ’s widow, said as he walked in. She wore her typical gingham skirt and white blouse with a leather vest over it, a pair of guns noticeable at her hips. The new owner was an interesting juxtaposition of fashion. “Come on over, honey. Beer?”

  “Yes, thanks, Bette.” Taking the stool at the far end of the bar to preclude him overhearing the snickers and slams the other men were sure to make about him, he ignored most everything that went on. Instead, he stared at the mirror behind the bar. The signals men like him gave were subtle, yet strong and he would know one when he saw it. So far, the men he knew who even had the inclination, weren’t at the bar yet. That was okay. He could get a little drunk first. Of course, getting drunk on Bette’s watered-down beer took some work. “Another,” he said before he’d even finished with the first.

  It was on beer four that he finally saw the movement he’d watched for. Charlie Givens had entered sometime between beers two and three and had sat down to play cards with a few of the guys. But as he stood up, he met Aaron’s gaze in the mirror and gave an almost imperceptible nod to the right. In response Aaron nodded slowly, nursing the last of his beer.

  It was a good thing he had ten minutes before they would meet. His body hurt and chills made him shiver. If he showed any of that, Charlie would freak out and head the other way—the man was constantly afraid of catching something. Even if Aaron explained it was an illness the man couldn’t catch, it wouldn’t make a difference. As such, he needed to get the shivers under control. He needed tonight. Badly.

  Taking another sip from his beer, he felt someone’s eyes on him. Afraid it was one of the local bullies, he ignored it. At first. But that itching feeling on his neck that he felt anytime he had caught someone watching him was maddening. Finally, he slammed the glass down on the bar top and turned, spotting someone he didn’t know across the room. Seated in the most secluded table in the room, a small alcove nearest the piano, under a light that never seemed to work was a man. He wore a cowboy hat, but the way it perched on top of his head told Aaron that it was borrowed—it didn’t fit the man’s head as a well-worn hat should. His face was in shadow underneath it and the only other thing Aaron could see was the man’s arm which was slung over the table and covered in leather. But it was his hand that truly drew Aaron’s eyes. For the skin was almost as pale as his was. When the hand turned over and waved at the seat opposite him, Aaron found himself hopping off the stool and wandering over, Charlie and their assignation forgotten.

  “Hello,” he said, sliding into the chair the man pointed to. “I’m Aaron.”

  “Jaret.” Startled by the English accent that poured out of the man opposite him, at first Aaron just stared at him. What was an Englishman doing in Montana? “How are you drinking the beer?” Amusement and a hint of disgust laced the tone.

  “Ah, Bette’s beer isn’t that bad. It takes two of ‘em to equal one real beer, but hell, that’s not why we’re here, is it?” At least he hoped not. It was difficult to think with the scents assaulting him. Jaret wore some sort of incredible cologne: like mint and newly mowed hay with a tinge of citrus. It was enticing.

  “Two of your darkest ales,” Jaret called out and before long Bette delivered, setting a glass in front of each of them before retreating to the bar. Aaron picked his up to take a swig but stopped when Jaret lifted a hand. The man reached into the inner lining of his jacket and pulled out a flask. He was adding alcohol to the beer? Amused and then confused, Aaron watched deep red liquid drip into Jaret’s glass. After about a jigger, he added the same to Aaron’s cup. Returning the flask back into his jacket, he lifted his glass in a salute. “To strangers.”

  “To strangers,” Aaron parroted back before swishing the beer around and taking a long sip. It was…good. Sweeter than the ale usually was and the flavor trickled along his taste buds. Almost instantly, he had to have more. And more. Until in no time, his glass was empty. Looking up into the eyes of the man opposite him, he realized his shivers and aches had lessened. Now he was ready for some fun. “Whatever you added definitely helped.”

  Snorting out a laugh, Jaret smiled, his lips quirking up on one side. “I don’t see how you handled drinking that without it.”

  “You get used to it. So, are you just passing through?” Even as the words were out of his mouth, he knew how provincial they sounded. He was just a fucking cowboy whereas this guy was from another country. A world-traveler probably.

  “Not sure. I’m looking forward to checking out the area. Can you suggest the right place?” Jaret’s head cocked to the side as he spoke and Aaron had the feeling there were unspoken words, a message the man was sending, and while he wasn’t sure what that message was, he hoped it was the one he wanted.

  “The best place in town is in the alley behind the grocer,” he said, while looking over Jaret’s shoulder—meeting his eyes while saying this was impossible.
Aaron had learned early on that closeted gay men did not want him to look them directly in the eyes. “Tall walls, the highway’s on the other side. Nobody hears a thing.”

  For a moment, the man looked taken aback and Aaron felt his cheeks heat up. He’d been mistaken. The guy wasn’t asking for a hookup. Fuck. Before he could backtrack or just sprint out of the bar, the quirked smile was back. “Good to know. I could use a little pick-me-up tonight. Interested?”

  His heart beating faster as relief filled him, Aaron nodded. Damn, the excitement for what was coming had even driven away the aches and pains. This was sure to be great—especially for his last. “Shall I head out first?” he asked, already rising to his feet.

  “Can we not go together?”

  Chapter Five

  Seeing the shocked expression on the other drakyl’s face, Jaret wondered why. Of course this was a small town. Maybe two men walking along to a place meant to fuck was considered wrong. However, he did not want to lose sight of the other man now that he’d found him. Aaron confused him. He was definitely the vanilla cigar and peppermint scent, but his drakyl scent was minimal when they first met though a little stronger now. That was odd. It usually only happened either during the change or when a drakyl had been starved of blood for years, and considering the man didn’t beg for more than the little he’d drizzled into his glass, that couldn’t be the case. There had to be another reason for his fluctuating scent. How could he get the man to show him where the rest of the drakyl lived? He’d follow his senses if need be, but he had the feeling it would be easier if introduced into their grouping by one of their own.

  “Together?” Aaron asked nervously.

  “Is that not done here?”

  “It is a small town. We could drive out of town, I suppose,” he added slowly and Jaret couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “Back into the closets, are we? Okay, tell me where this back alley is and I will meet you there in five minutes.” Looking relieved, Aaron gave him directions before scurrying out of the bar. Several men watched him leave, a few with disgusted looks on their faces. A little anger boiled in his gut. Closed-minded wretches. Maybe he’d take that supercilious expression off their faces tonight. He wondered if Aaron would join him for a late night snack. After their fun, anyway.

  Rising to his feet, he glared at one of the men who still had his eyes on the door. The man jerked back, unaware of what Jaret was but no doubt still feeling the fear of one’s prey toward its predator. After turning on his heel and enjoying the feel of his coat as it moved around him as he did so, he pushed open both of the swinging doors and walked out onto the wooden walkway. The sky was clear overhead and the stars nicely dotted the midnight sky. It was one of the good things about being outside of a city.

  Following Aaron’s scent, he walked along the wooden-planked sidewalk toward the grocery. As he turned to walk around the building, he heard hisses.

  “I forgot,” Aaron said.

  “How the fuck can you forget?” snapped another male voice and he sounded furious. “I offered, you nodded yes. Now get on your fucking knees and blow me.”

  “Charlie—”

  “Now, basta—” Before Charlie finished the word, Jaret walked up behind him and grabbed him by the back of his neck, squeezing until the man could barely speak.

  “Are you bothering Aaron?” he asked with a growl.

  “Go away,” Charlie squeaked. “And let me go!”

  “Jaret,” Aaron began and Jaret wondered if this pitiful human meant anything to the man he planned to enjoy. If he did, that meant he couldn’t drink him down. Damn it. Sex after drinking fresh blood was explosive. Ah, well, they would settle for just the sex, then.

  “Leave,” he hissed into the human’s ear. “And don’t come back. Aaron is mine tonight. Got it?”

  Trembling, Charlie nodded even as the fresh scent of urine entered Jaret’s nostrils. “And go clean yourself up.” He shoved the man away, not noting where he went as he turned back to Aaron. “Ignore the interruption. I cannot understand the appeal of this area, but if this is where you prefer to enjoy your carnal pleasure, then so be it.” Aaron’s eyes widened even as Jaret took a step forward. But there was no fear radiating off the man. The only scents that permeated either of them were lust, desire, and need.

  They both moved at the same time, their lips meeting in a mixture of force and longing. Aaron’s lips opened and Jaret instantly went in for a taste. Groaning as the man’s scents were exponentially enhanced here, he could only imagine the incredible aroma between his legs. Pushing him back against the wall, he tilted his head to deepen his reach even as his hand slid down Aaron’s torso to the front of his jeans. A long, thick cock pressed against his hand and he moaned, rubbing roughly over it.

  “Fuck,” Aaron gasped as Jaret pulled his tongue back, dragging his fangs along his lover’s lower lip. When the man shoved his hips into Jaret’s hand, he smiled.

  “We’ll get there.”

  “I’m gonna fucking come if you keep this up.”

  Retracting his fangs just enough, he nibbled along Aaron’s jawline. “Well, then, let’s get the first orgasm down, shall we?”

  “What?” Aaron asked, sounding confused.

  Dropping to his knees, Jaret quickly unfastened the front of Aaron’s jeans, yanking them down to his thighs a moment later. “Commando,” he said with a smirk, as now released, Aaron’s shaft bounced against his abdomen. “My kind of man.”

  “Fuck, do…something,” Aaron growled, turning him on.

  Something? Hmmm. Allowing his fangs to descend again, he kissed from the man’s right pubic bone all the way down toward his shaft, letting the tips drag along the man’s skin.

  “Jaret! Fuck! That feels good.”

  “Damn straight.” Pausing for a moment to inhale, the intense vanilla cigar, peppermint, and lemon scent almost knocked him over. “You smell so damned good.”

  “I do?” Aaron gasped.

  “Oh, yeah. Makes me wanna do this.” Leaning in to the juncture between his cock and balls, Jaret inhaled, a loud growl rumbling in his chest. “Fuck.” He might have to keep a sachet of the combined scents in his rucksack. It was stimulating. Unable not to go for the prize with it standing so nicely before him, he pressed his tongue to the base and licked all the way to the tip. Aaron was circumcised. It wasn’t that Jaret hadn’t been with other snipped men, but he always found their cocks fascinating. There was no foreskin to play with. It made him have to be a bit more active with making the man he was going down on crazy.

  Pulling the cock forward, he tongued the slit, pulling Aaron’s pre-cum into his mouth and enjoying the taste. He noted there was something missing from it, but with his intention on getting Aaron off, he pushed that to the back of his mind. Glancing upward, he smiled at the total look of desire crossing the other man’s face. “Do you want me to do this?” he asked, wrapping his lips just around the head and sucking softly. Aaron’s eyes rolled back in his head and he shuddered. Pulling his lips off, he asked, “Or this?” Letting go of what was an average-size cock at six inches, he leaned down and sucked one of his balls into his mouth.

  “Fuck!” Aaron hissed, knocking Jaret’s hat off and grabbing his hair. “You’re driving me crazy!”

  “That’s the point,” he said with a chuckle, after letting the nut drop from his tongue. “But I think you’ll really like this.” He locked eyes with the man standing above him and after wrapping his lips around the tip, slid one of his fangs along the slit. A long set of expletives left Aaron’s lips even as a torrent of cum exploded and decorated the inside of his mouth. Chuckling in amusement, he swallowed it all, letting his other fang slide along the slit before he pulled back.

  Aaron slumped against the wall, his breaths coming in uneven pants even as his mouth was rather slack.

  “Aaron?” For a moment, he was worried as he leapt to his feet. Had Aaron not enjoyed what he did? True, most drakyl did, but that didn’t mean all—His thoughts halted as the
man in front of him stirred.

  Blinking his eyes open even as Jaret pressed both palms to his face, Aaron gave a lazy grin. “I think you just blew my mind.”

  Grinning back, Jaret threw his head back and laughed. “It’s my specialty,” he assured him. “Now, how do you feel about returning the favor?”

  Crystalline blue orbs sparkled. “Love to.” Aaron yanked his pants up and quickly put himself to rights. “Let’s change positions.”

  “You gonna make me weak in the knees, too?”

  “I’m gonna fucking try.”

  Jaret loved a man with a goal. As they exchanged positions, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down. He could have left it up to Aaron, but he always enjoyed the look on men’s faces when they got a look at him.

  Aaron’s expression was priceless. His eyes slid down Jaret and the moment they got a look at his cock they widened and his mouth opened in an O at the cock that stood facing him. It was too heavy to stand up straight so it was horizontal to the ground. “Holy fuck, Jaret. What palm did you grease to get that sucker?”

  “Just a god-given gift, Aaron.” While not much longer than Aaron’s, his was twice as thick. Humans were never able to blow him—their mouths couldn’t stretch that wide—but drakyl always seemed to get a kick out of making sure they took him in. They might not be able to get him in very far, but they could at least satisfy him. “So, ready to suck this?” he asked, grasping the base and giving it a good yank.

  “Hell, yeah.” Aaron dropped to his knees, his tongue sliding along his lips. “Never taken anything this big, but I enjoy a challenge.”