The Darkling Hunters_Fox Company Alpha

by Rhiannon Ayers

  Thank God. She didn’t out me. He should have felt relieved. Instead, the tension in the room tightened like a rubber band, twanging on every single one of his nerve-endings. Dex watched Sam’s eyes widen, his mouth dropping open—

  And then he lunged forward, wrapped his arms around Sydney, and snatched her lips in a kiss so desperate, it made Dex’s knees weak.

  Here goes nothing.

  Or, perhaps I should say…here goes everything.

  Chapter 15

  His second visit to Heaven was even better than the first.

  Sam plundered Sydney’s mouth, one hand buried in her hair at the nape of her neck and the other clutched tightly against her glorious ass. Fuck, she felt good in his arms. She might be short—he had to bend a long way to reach those luscious lips—but she had all the right padding in all the right places. Let other guys fantasize about stick-figure chicks with no hips, no ass, and no hint of cleavage. Sydney embodied everything he’d ever dreamed about in a woman—most of which had nothing to do with her spectacular figure.

  God. It almost felt like he couldn’t get close enough. He wanted to find a place to crawl inside her soul, nestle there amid her glorious perfection. Sam put everything he had into that kiss, letting his lips and tongue tell a story his mouth wasn’t ready to convey in words. And Sydney, beautiful, powerful, intoxicating Sydney, absorbed it all like a lightning rod, meeting his tongue stroke for stroke while her hands wandered his chest and abs. He burned, inside and out, ready to ignite into a firestorm of lust and need—

  A very masculine, very needy groan echoed through the room.

  Sam pulled back from Sydney and looked up, horrified, to find Dex watching them with the same expression he’d worn just after their threesome. Oh, God, he’s pissed. Isn’t he? Sam gulped, trying to back away from Sydney, but his back was already pressed against the door.

  “Shit,” he panted. “Shit, I’m sorry—”

  “Sam,” Sydney purred, caressing his chest. “Sam, honey, it’s okay.”

  He shook his head wildly, risking a look down at her before putting his gaze back on Dex. “I’m sorry. Dex, I’m sorry—”

  “For what?” Dex rumbled, voice thick with…wait, was that lust? “I already told you, man. It’s okay. You should tell her.” His green-flecked eyes seemed to glow with some emotion Sam couldn’t name—or didn’t want to acknowledge.

  Tell her? Sam squeezed Sydney’s waist, then realized what he was doing and quickly dropped his hands to his sides. He pressed his back against the door, trying to put some space between them, but Sydney molded herself to his body and wrapped both hands around his nape. When he looked down at her, all he could see were a pair of shining ice-blue eyes filled with lust, longing, and total understanding.

  His inner voice went still. Those eyes were mesmerizing. Captivating. Almost…magical. Without even realizing it, he put his hands around her waist again, snugging her close. Sydney hummed her approval, stretching up to claim his mouth in a slow, sweet kiss. His head spun, knees going weak. Only the door at his back kept him from sinking to the floor.

  Sydney threaded her fingers through his hair as she whispered against his lips, “I think I know what you need to say to me. It’s okay if you’re not ready to say the words yet.”

  “Syd…Syd, I…” His voice faltered as fear crept back in. He snuck a glance at Dex and quickly looked down at her again. “I don’t know if I can…”

  “Sam.” Dex’s voice was still rough around the edges, bleeding emotions.

  Sam braced himself, holding Sydney close like a shield, and forced himself to meet his partner’s eyes. Dex still wore the same expression, but now there was more to it, something undefinable that set Sam’s instincts on edge—and his body on fire.

  Dex took a step forward, keeping eye contact. “I need you to hear me. Listen to me this time, okay? I know how you feel about her. I know how you feel because I feel the same way. But Sam, it’s not a bad thing. You keep assuming I’ll hate you for it, but I don’t.” Dex’s resolve wavered, just a little, making Sam’s instincts go on red alert. But then, the other man’s fists tightened at his sides, and he lifted his chin. “It’s okay, Sam. I promise. Please just…stop pushing us away. Stop pulling yourself away. I…I want…” But he trailed off, his whole body trembling.

  Want what? Sam couldn’t say the words out loud. Whatever Dex was trying to say, he was having as much trouble admitting it as Sam was having. What could he mean? What did—

  “Sam.” Sydney cupped his cheek, forcing his gaze downward. “Do you trust me?”

  Trust her? What a ridiculous thing to ask. She’d lied to them, manipulated them, dragged them all over creation in pursuit of her objectives, all while doling out nuggets of information only when it suited her. She’d already proven that she would deceive, cheat, steal, or coerce to get whatever the hell she wanted without fear of consequences. She was cagey, secretive to the point of obfuscation, without a hint of remorse for any of it. She’d blown up a biker bar just to get rid of a single enemy, while ignoring the other criminals who deserved to be brought to justice. Oh, and she’d killed a man in their motel room, shot him at point-blank range without a moment’s hesitation. She was a hard, cold, determined assassin with an unknown past, an unknown future, and an even more mysterious present.

  She was also Sydney Carpenter. The only woman he’d ever met who could keep up with anything he threw at her. Good-humored when needed, cold-blooded when it counted, and loyal in a way that defied common moral boundaries. There were only two people in this world Sam trusted to have his back—and Sydney Carpenter was one of them.

  “Yeah,” he whispered, unable to get his voice any louder. “Of course, I trust you.”

  The corner of her lip twitched as if she held back a knowing smile. She caressed his cheek and held his gaze. “That night, in Chicago. You confessed something to me when you thought I’d be too drunk to remember it.”

  Sam’s insides froze solid. He stared at her, horrified. Oh, no. No, she wasn’t supposed to remember that. Oh, God…

  “Sam, listen to me. I’m asking you to have faith.”

  “Faith in what?” His voice came out in a desperate quiver.

  “In me,” she whispered. “And in Dex.” Another caress, and her voice dropped so low he had to bend down to hear her. “Take a chance, Sam. You’ve let fear hold you back from what you truly wanted for far, far too long. Take a chance. Trust me.”

  Sam just stared. She couldn’t be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. No way in hell…

  “Sam.” Her voice rose, expression hardening just a little. “Trust me.”

  His lips quivered as he swallowed what felt like a bag of jagged rocks down his throat. He risked a look at Dex, but couldn’t make himself keep eye contact.

  “I’d tell him for you, but this is something that needs to come from the source,” Sydney whispered, echoing Dex’s earlier words. “Take the chance, Sam. I’m here. Dex is here. Right now, that’s all that matters. You don’t have to hide anymore. Have a little faith. Trust me.” The last words faded into a breathy, heartfelt plea.

  Sam gulped again, his whole body shaking. He tried to gather his courage, but it felt like trying to catch gossamer strands in a tornado wind. She didn’t ask for much, did she? Just the baring of his soul—raw, exposed, and bleeding—right in front of the two people who could destroy it utterly. She asked for trust. She asked for faith.

  But could he afford either when his own heart was on the line?

  Time seemed to slip into a slow, liquid mass that clung to his every movement. He looked up at Dex, held the other man’s eyes, and tried to make his mouth work. Tried to remember how to form words, how to complete sentences, how to convey the feelings that had been barricaded inside his mind since the moment he met the other man.

  But the walls were too high, his defenses still too thick. He opened his mouth…and nothing came out.

  “Dex,” Sydney said in a normal voice
, keeping her eyes on Sam. “Come here.”

  Dex startled a little, but he did as she asked, coming to stand at her back. Sydney extended a hand behind her, drawing Dex close when he threaded their fingers together. She brought Dex’s hand to her waist, moving so their hands were parallel, his palm on top of the back of her hand. Then she brought their hands down, over the top of Sam’s hand, forming a layered bond that felt both terrifying and perfect at the exact same time. Sam shuddered, feeling the heat from Dex’s fingertips on his wrist; his hands were far larger than Sydney’s, so his pinky and thumb rested against Sam’s fingers. Touching him.

  Dex seemed to hesitate, just for a moment. Then, he squeezed.

  Firecrackers went off inside Sam’s brain, short-circuiting his resistance. Without letting himself think about it, Sam reached out with his free hand and threaded his fingers through Dex’s belt loop. He yanked the other man forward, sandwiching Sydney’s much-smaller body between them. Dex and Sydney both gasped, and Sam took the opportunity to capture Sydney’s mouth in a desperate, hungry kiss. Dex let out a lust-soaked rumble that vibrated through Sydney’s body and into Sam’s, and bent his head to kiss the side of her neck. Sam’s cock, caught behind his zipper and compressed by their combined weight against him, throbbed with pent-up desire.

  Then Sydney pulled her hand from between the two of theirs—and the most miraculous thing happened. Dex was holding him, caressing his hand, then his wrist, then his forearm. That hand drifted higher, clutching his bicep, and finally, Sam’s neck. That touch left trails of liquid flame down his arm, re-igniting the firestorm that had been doused by Sam’s fears. He groaned, pulled his fingers out of the belt loop, and let his hand drift upward. He caressed Dex’s hard, tense shoulder before cupping the back of his neck.

  With a last, desperate groan, Sam broke his kiss with Sydney, yanked the other man away from his explorations of Sydney’s neck—and claimed Dex’s lips.

  ◆◆◆

  Dex had half a heartbeat to think, Oh, shit, did he mean to do that? before his brain quite simply shut off.

  Sam was kissing him. Really, really kissing him. Their tongues dueled like desperate samurais, teeth clicking as they fought to get closer to one another. Dex groaned, fisting Sam’s hair while trying to obey his body’s shouted need to get closer, closer. And then something shifted, a barrier went away, and suddenly he was chest-to-chest with his best friend, holding him close as he kissed him with everything he had.

  Oh, fuck. Lighting and thunderstorms had nothing on Sam. Who knew one person could hold so much concentrated energy? The heat coming off his body was enough to burn the flesh right off Dex’s bones, turn them into a quivering mass of want and need. His body screamed for air, but he didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, couldn’t imagine a world without this man’s touch, his lips…

  At long last, Sam pulled back with a tearing, desperate gasp. Both men stood there, clutching each other as they panted. Sam’s eyes were wide, filled with wonder and incredulity, but his grip on Dex’s neck never wavered. Dex, for his part, felt as if his bones had been shattered, his insides reduced to dandelion fluff.

  Did that really just happen?

  Sam took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ve wanted to do that since we were eighteen. I was…I was just…”

  “Afraid,” Dex whispered. The lump in his throat wouldn’t let him speak any louder. “Yeah. So am I.”

  Sam went still, seeming to catch Dex’s meaning even before he did.

  Am, not was. Present tense. Fuck…

  Sam’s grip loosened around Dex’s neck, his fingers trembling. A sad sort of smile drifted across his features. “I’m afraid too. I’ve always been afraid.”

  “Of me?”

  A tiny grimace. “Of you. Of this. Of how you’d feel when I…if I…”

  Dex felt his muscles tighten, his body trying to go into a defensive mode. He tried to force himself to relax, but the tension remained. “All day today, I’ve been thinking about…” Fuck. He still couldn’t say it. Instead, other words tumbled out, a flood he couldn’t even begin to control. “I wanted to blame Sydney for putting thoughts in my head. She suggested that I…that we…but I couldn’t believe that…I didn’t think you’d…I thought you wouldn’t…”

  “Wouldn’t what? Want you?” Sam’s voice dropped to a sexy rumble. “You’re an idiot, Dex. And so am I.”

  Before Dex could think of a reply, Sam kissed him.

  Slow. Hot. Seductive. A deeply personal exploration of lips on lips, tongues against tongues. Dex groaned, getting lost in it, and pressed himself against Sam’s body.

  Sam’s cock dug into his upper thigh. Dex jerked back—then stopped himself with a nervous chuckle. “I…I’m sorry. This is just…” He swallowed. “It’s all new to me. I don’t…I don’t know how to do this.”

  Sam cupped the back of his neck, pressing his forehead against Dex’s. “It’s okay. Nothing you’re not ready for.”

  Dex smiled. “Syd said the same thing.”

  Both men paused. Where the fuck had Syd gotten to? She was right there between them, and then…

  The sound of a zipper closing ricocheted through the room. Dex whirled to find Sydney holding her duffle bag, a contented little smile on her face. “You guys have a lot of…talking…to do. I should leave you to it.”

  Leave? She was going to leave? Fuck that. Dex didn’t even have to look at his partner to know he was in full accord. They moved in tandem, stalking Sydney like pacing lions while she watched them with a growing frown.

  “What are—” she started, but they didn’t let her finish. Sam crowded close to Sydney’s back, while Dex reached down, cupped her thighs, and lifted her straight up. She squeaked, her arms flying up to wrap his neck while her ankles crossed at the small of his back. Sam pressed forward, sandwiching her between them, his fingers once again threaded in Dex’s belt loops.

  Trapping her between them. Right where she’d always belonged.

  “This isn’t over,” Dex rumbled, grinding his cock against her crotch.

  “Not by half.” Sam pressed in from the other side, making her grunt.

  Sydney’s eyes dilated, her expression going slack, but she still tried to reason with them. “Guys…this isn’t…you’re supposed to…”

  “This your only pair of jeans?” Sam murmured, slipping his hands beneath the hem of her sweater and cupping her breasts.

  “Uh…no…” Sydney sounded anxious. “Sam, what—”

  “You got a pocket knife, Dex?” Sam said right over her.

  Of course, he did—and Sam knew it. Dex could have gotten it for him. Sydney was holding herself up now, not to mention being trapped between them. But he didn’t. Instead, he threw caution out the window and said, “Back pocket. Right side.”

  Sam’s silvery eyes flashed brightly over Sydney’s shoulder. He took a half-step closer, grinding Sydney between their bodies, and slipped his fingertips into Dex’s pocket. Dex shuddered, the feel of those digits sliding across his ass, even with the fabric between them, making his cock harden even further. Sam, the bastard, took his sweet time, fishing around on purpose. But finally, he pulled out the small blade, flashed Dex a wink, and said, “Hold her still.”

  Dex realized what his partner was going to do a moment before Sydney did. She squawked in outrage, but Dex wrapped her up in a bear-hug before she could react, holding her tight against his chest. She squirmed, trying to get away from him—

  And Sam slapped her ass. Hard. “Be still.”

  “Jesus fuck,” Dex groaned as Sydney shuddered. She went still against him, though the speed and vitriol of her words picked up, until she’d insulted Sam’s mother, Dex’s mental capacity, and the origin of the entire male species. Sam ignored her entirely. He flipped the blade open, tested the edge against his thumb, then dropped to one knee. Dex watched him pinch the fabric of Sydney’s jeans just below the top-most seam and slice a hole parallel to the inseam. He cut downward, carefully pulling the materia
l away from her body before each cut, until he could reach his whole hand inside the cut he’d made. Then he dropped out of Dex’s field of vision, but Dex could still hear everything—more small ripping noises, followed by the slight loosening of the fabric around her legs. Sydney cursed and shuddered with each tiny rip, her invective getting more and more and more colorful. Sam sat back on his heel, frowning at his work.

  “That should do,” he said with a small, satisfied rumble. But then he frowned a little, leaned forward, and said, “Oops. Forgot about these.”

  Two more rips, and he held up a panel cut from Sydney’s panties.

  “Goddamn, you’re going to kill me,” Dex groaned.

  “Not if I kill you first,” Sydney grumbled, making both men laugh.

  Sam stood, handed Dex the knife, and flashed him a knowing grin. “Cut the front. I’ll hold her open.”

  Sydney squirmed, but Sam took hold of her thighs, slipping his palms just beneath her kneecaps and cradling her back against his chest, keeping her legs spread wide. She gasped and wrapped both hands around the back of Sam’s neck to keep her balance, consequently exposing her beautiful breasts. Dex rumbled appreciatively, taking a moment to lift her sweater up and running both hands over them, squeezing gently, then ran his palms down her taut stomach. Her muscles quivered, letting him know she was enjoying this despite the insults she kept throwing at them. He shook his head, dropped to one knee, and flipped open the knife.

  Sydney went rigid, holding herself open even as Sam held her still. Dex leaned in, searching for the end of the cut Sam had made. It stopped just below the middle of the inseam, where two lines of stitching met at the center. The scent of her arousal washed over him as he pulled the fabric taut, letting him know her body approved even if her dirty mouth didn’t. Carefully, he placed the tip of the knife just inside the cut, then sliced forward and down with a quick jerk. The thickest part of the inseam parted liked butter.