“We always needed her,” Sam whispered. A stray tear drifted down his cheek.
Dex nodded. “She’s always going to be here, Sam. Right here, between us. I don’t think we’re ever going to be able to change that.” He wiped the tear away with the tip of his thumb. “But I don’t think she’d want us to keep our distance just because she isn’t here anymore. She wouldn’t want us sitting around crying like a couple of pussies. She’d want us to find a way to move on, find a way to be together without her. She wanted us to be together, Sam.”
He paused, took a long, slow breath, and whispered, “And so do I.”
Sam was kissing him almost before he got the words out. No longer docile, he clamped both hands around Dex’s face and held him still while he plundered Dex’s mouth. Dex groaned as lust once again pooled in his lower belly. Next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with Sam’s weight pressing down deliciously on top of him. Sam kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him some more, until Dex wanted to pass out from the joy of it.
And all the while, the scent of Sydney’s body soap surrounded them. Like she was there, but not there. As comforting as it was heart-wrenching.
Sam’s kisses became more and more frantic, his tongue battling with Dex’s like he was trying to win some kind of war. Sam pushed himself onto one elbow and used his free hand to caress and massage Dex’s chest. Dex let out a pathetic sort of whimper as Sam’s palm passed over his nipple, then shuddered as that hand drifted lower. When that hand ripped the towel aside and fisted Dex’s cock, his whole body convulsed with the shock of it.
Sam broke their kiss with a hard, desperate gasp and pressed his forehead against Dex’s temple. “I want you,” he whispered, lust and gravel grinding behind the words. “I need you, Dex. But I…I’m afraid I’ll scare you.”
A strangled little chuckle escaped. “I want this. I want you. I just…I don’t know how to do this. You’re going to have to show me.”
Sam let out a rumbly sort of hum, eyes flashing silver, and pushed himself to his feet. He hauled Dex up after him—then shoved him backward onto the bed. Dex landed hard enough to bounce the pillows, breath caught in his throat, and wondered what the hell Sam was up to. But Sam wasn’t gone long; he grabbed his go-bag and retrieved the little clear bottle of lube he’d used on Sydney. The thought sent a pang through Dex’s heart, but he forced himself to put it aside.
Sam said he needed this. Well, Dex did, too. He couldn’t afford to let himself drown in despair. He needed to feel something other than that raging, gaping hole of loss in his chest.
If losing Sydney had taught him anything, it was that he needed to appreciate the small moments. The good moments. The pure and true moments. In a world full of terrors, full of death and darkness and soulless monsters, he had every right to find joy in whatever way he could.
Even if that joy was bittersweet.
Sam stretched out next to him, the towel still wrapped around his hips, and set the small plastic bottle on the mattress beside Dex’s hip. Then he captured Dex’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss that made all his thoughts evaporate like so much dandelion fluff. Those huge, hard hands went back to caressing Dex’s chest, his arms, his lower belly. Then Sam started nibbling his way down Dex’s jaw, then his neck, and then every other part of him. Each contact set of an electrostatic shock over his skin, making him feel jumpy, edgy, unable to lie still. And when those lips wrapped around his cock…
Dex fisted the sheets and threw his head back, unable to contain a cry of pure pleasure. Oh, fuck, Sam knew what to do with his teeth, teasing his length, sucking hard, flicking the head of Dex’s dick with the tip of his tongue before sucking back down again, almost to the base. Dex panted, body vibrating with tension, riding the edge of orgasm between one breath and the next. Shit. He was too hyped up, too ready, too much, too much—
“Sam!” The word came out in a high-pitched squeak as he fisted Sam’s hair. “Fuck…you gotta stop…I’m gonna…”
Sam chuckled, letting the vibrations sink through Dex’s muscles, then pulled off him with a soft pop. He kissed his way back up Dex’s chest, gave him another soul-shattering kiss, then reached for one of the nearby pillows.
“Flip over and put this under your hips,” he said, voice gone all sexy and growly. “Easier that way. At least for the first time.”
Dex let out a panting sort of moan and did as ordered, scrunching the pillow so that it trapped his cock between it and his belly. He grabbed another pillow and hugged it hard, shoulders tensing with anticipation.
Sam leaned over Dex’s back, continuing his explorations with hands, lips, and tongue. Dex shivered, body quaking harder and harder as Sam’s hands finally drifted over his ass. He squeezed his eyes shut, panting, and waited for the first thrust.
But Sam had other ideas. He lay down flat on Dex’s back, pressing him into the bed, and wrapped one arm over and around Dex’s arms, which were wrapped around the pillow. His other hand massaged Dex’s ass, slowly working fingertips between his cheeks before caressing his hole. Dex cried out, every muscle in his body tensing.
Sam kissed his shoulder and whispered, “You have to relax. Let it all go. Feel me. Just feel me.”
Sam’s upper arm brushed against Dex’s bicep, sending a fresh wave of Sydney’s scent over him. His nerves calmed instantly, and Dex sank deeper into the bed, Sam’s weight driving him downward. Sam massaged his entrance, putting more and more pressure, until his fingertip finally slipped inside and Dex had to muffle a hard, sharp groan. A burning zing of pain accompanied that fingertip, setting his nerve-endings on fire. But the pain passed as quickly as it came, and then all he could do was ride out the sensation of that single digit sliding along tissues that had never experienced a lover’s caress.
Sam took his time, stretching him, preparing him, making sure he wouldn’t hurt too much. And he appreciated it—really, he did—but now he wanted the main event. He tensed.
Sam stopped working him and sat back. “Maybe we should—”
“If you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to go find a flash-bang and shove it up your nose.”
Sam burst out laughing. He buried his face in Dex’s neck, his body shaking hard enough to rock Dex’s beneath him. When the giggle-fit stopped, he kissed the back of Dex’s head. “That’s why I’ve always loved you, Dex. You and Syd both. You guys could always make me laugh.”
A whirling ball of conflicting emotions roiled through Dex’s gut. Instant pain at the reminder of Sydney’s loss. Instant joy that Sam finally said he loved him. Instant regret that he would never hear Sydney crack another joke, or hear Sam’s unguarded laughter as a result of it. Tears threatened yet again, his throat locking tight. Dex pressed his temple hard against Sam’s chin and whispered, “Sam? I need you.”
Sam nodded, all mirth gone in an instant. He shifted, putting the head of his cock against Dex’s anus. “Bear down. Try to keep me out.”
“Say what? I thought we were going for the opposite effect,” Dex said breathlessly.
Sam’s chuckle held sensual promise. “Trust me. Try to keep me out as long as you can.”
Dex nodded into his pillow, squeezed his eyes shut, and did as instructed. He tightened inner muscles, holding himself still as Sam built up the external pressure, pushing against his resistance. Dex was starting to wonder if he was doing this right, if he’d misunderstood, when he lost control of those muscles and found himself pushing out instead of inward.
Sam’s cock sank into him. A solid two inches.
Dex went rigid, crying out, though he didn’t know if it was from pain or pleasure. Both sensations ping-ponged through his body, trading places every time Sam pushed in another inch. It felt good, and it felt terrible. His world tipped sideways, until he couldn’t quite tell which way was up.
No, that wasn’t true. Sam. Sam was “up.” That was all he needed to concentrate on right now.
Sure, there was pain. He’d been expecting it, if not truly prepared for it. But pa
rt of him wallowed in, needed it in some strange way. It felt…fitting…somehow. Doing this, being with Sam like this, would always be accompanied by the pain of Sydney’s loss. It only made sense that the physical discomfort would match the emotional. That thought in mind, Dex let his eyes roll back and submitted himself to sensation.
Sam thrust into him, going all the way to the hilt, and held himself there. Then, he started to thrust. The pain faded like a distant memory, replaced by wave after wave of endless pleasure. Sam rode him hard, stoking a firestorm of epic proportions inside Dex’s body. His cock, still trapped between his stomach and the pillow, throbbed with aching need. Dex tried to get control of himself, tried to endure the pleasure as long as he could.
And then, without so much as a warning twinge, Dex exploded.
He managed a strangled, “Oh, shit,” right before the orgasm rolled over him. After that, it was everything he could do not to scream his pleasure to the rooftops.
And yet, it wasn’t over. Sam kept right on fucking him.
Dex lost a chunk of time after that. His awareness rose and fell in time with the waves of pleasure Sam gave him, until he couldn’t remember what it was like to be without these feelings. Sam would build him up, stroke him higher, then bring him back down to a simmering, shivering internal boil. At some point, Sam had coaxed him to get up on his knees, to present his ass like some begging twink. The old Dex would have had a problem with that mental picture, but this brand new Dex quite frankly didn’t give a shit. As far as he was concerned, Sam could do whatever the hell he wanted, make Dex do whatever the hell he wanted, so long as he kept making Dex feel this way. Nothing, nothing, in Dex’s previous experience had ever felt like this.
Finally, Sam’s strokes began to waver in intensity, becoming harder, sharper, and less focused. Dex found the will to push back against the other man, moving with him, and was rewarded by the feel of Sam’s hands clamping down hard around his hips. Sam pounded into him, over and over and over again, until Dex thought he’d go mad from it.
And then Sam leaned forward, reached around Dex’s waist—and fisted his cock. “Come again for me. One more time.”
Dex nearly passed out. His mind blanked, ears buzzing as that final wave of pressure burst through him. Then he felt Sam’s cock pulse against his inner walls, and a second, sharper wave obliterated the first. He could do nothing but kneel there, head hanging down between his arms, and try to remember how to breathe.
It shook him to his foundation…in so many more ways than one.
His memory went hazy again. He blinked to find himself on his side, collapsed like a rag doll, as the bed shifted beneath him. Blearily, he looked over his shoulder, only to find Sam disappearing into the bathroom. He returned almost instantly, carrying a small white cloth. He proceeded to clean Dex’s skin, removing any last traces lube.
For some reason, that simple act of kindness made Dex’s throat close up. He turned away before tears could ruin the moment. When Sam wrapped himself around Dex’s back, Dex burrowed into him, gratefully accepting the other man’s embrace. They lay there in silence, both too overwhelmed to communicate in words.
Well, not too overwhelmed.
“Hey, Dex?”
“Yeah?”
“I meant it, you know.” A pause. “I love you.”
Dex felt a soft, dreamy smile spread over his face. “I know.”
He felt Sam’s smile against the back of his neck.
“Hey, Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“You wanna know what else?”
“What?”
Dex lifted up, twisting around so he could look into Sam’s eyes. “Sydney knew it, too.”
Sam’s smile, like everything else in the past few hours, held an edge that was both joyful…and bittersweet.
◆◆◆
Buzz-buzz.
Sam jerked awake, blinking blearily around the room. Dex murmured something in his sleep, clutching at the blanket beneath his chin, and went still once again. Sam checked his inner clock against the clock on the bedside table, surprised to find it had gotten well past noon. Christ. If he kept this up, he’d have to start getting used to keeping the same hours as Dex normally did.
Perish the thought.
Buzz-buzz.
Sam pushed himself up onto one elbow, scowling as he looked for the source of the noise. He and Dex both had cell phones, but those were only for emergencies, like when they got separated. Sam couldn’t even remember the last time his phone went off.
Buzz-buzz.
Dex snuffle-snorted and mumbled, “I don’t want to put on the harness.”
Sam chuckled, then slapped Dex’s shoulder. “Wake up, sunshine. I think one of our phones is going off.”
Dex came awake with a start, blinking furiously. “What? What? Who?”
“Find your phone. Come on, time to get up.”
Sam slid from the bed while Dex grumbled about being torn from his beauty sleep. He shook his head, smiling a little, and started searching through his go-bag. Dex made it as far as putting his feet onto the floor before he looked up at Sam with a sour frown.
“I don’t have my phone anymore. I had it in my jacket pocket last night. It went up with the warehouse.”
Grimacing, Sam gave a short nod, then went back to his search. He finally located his phone in a side pocket and pulled it out, thumbing through to the message screen.
Except…it was empty. No new messages. Sam met Dex’s eyes with a raised eyebrow. Dex spread his hands and gave a little shrug.
Right then, Sam’s go-bag buzzed. Twice. Both men startled, and Sam dug around inside again. Finding no other devices, he finally pulled out the Com-Sat, giving it a dubious look. Sure enough, a few seconds later, it buzzed a fourth time.
“Huh,” Dex said, eyeing it sideways. “I didn’t know it could do that.”
“Me, neither.” Sam started to push the power switch.
“Put that away. We don’t need Boss’ shit right now.”
Sam hesitated, then winced. “I don’t think I checked in last night. Boss must be shitting his pants right now.”
“Let him,” Dex said with a scoff. Sam’s questioning frown was met with an angry glare. “What? They sent us up here, alone, no back-up, and put us right in the middle of a fucking viper’s nest, man. They didn’t give a shit how dangerous it was. What the fuck do we owe them, anyway? As far as I’m concerned, the entire DEA can go to hell.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?” Dex surged to his feet, storming over to his go-bag and yanking out a pair of boxers and jeans. “I can’t do it anymore, Sam. Not after this. I can’t go back to being a darkling hunter.”
Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, holding the Com-Sat in his lap. “What about our promise?” he asked softly.
Dex merely snorted. “I think Uncle Sam will get along just fine without our promise to serve and protect. He sure as shit didn’t lift a finger to protect us when we needed it.”
Sam waited a heartbeat before replying. “I meant, what about our promise to Sydney?”
Dex froze in the act of pulling on his jeans, then resumed at a slower pace. He said nothing.
“We promised her we’d help her go after Levi,” Sam said relentlessly. “We sat right here, right in this room, and told her we had her back. Does that promise end because we failed her the first time around?”
Dex, who’d just pulled a shirt out, threw his go-bag down savagely. “Don’t say that shit. We promised we’d help Syd go after Levi. Did you forget what she told us about him? How are we supposed to fight a guy who can rip our souls from our bodies?”
“We’ll find a way. We have to. We owe her that much.”
“We owe her everything,” Dex snarled, rounding on him with fists clenched. “That’s why I don’t want to go back to the DEA. She didn’t want them involved, remember? If we’re going to hunt that fucker down—”
“We need resources,” Sam said flatly. He
held up a hand when Dex started to protest. “I know, Sydney didn’t think that would be necessary. But Sydney had powers you and I could only ever dream of—she didn’t need anything the DEA had to offer. But, if we’re going to take down Levi, we’re going to need all the help we can get.” He held up the Com-Sat. “That means using the tools we have at hand, even if we don’t like using them.”
“What about what she said? What about them trying to capture instead of kill? What about—”
“I didn’t say we had to tell Boss we were hunting the darkling-maker. All he has to know is we’ve found a lead and we’re going to chase it down. Where’s the harm in that?”
Dex stared at him. “Famous last words,” he said, voice thick.
Sam grimaced, then heaved a sigh. He thumbed the button on the Com-Sat and waited for all the little lights to calm down. Then, he pulled up the messenger screen. Sixty-two messages, sent over a span of twelve hours. Fuck. Boss must have been frantic. Sam shook his head and pulled up the on-screen keyboard.
His cell phone rang right then, giving off a harsh, startling clangor that made both men jump. Sam eyed it like it had suddenly grown three heads, then raised an eyebrow at Dex—who did nothing but shrug unhelpfully. Wary now for no reason he could fathom, Sam flicked the button to answer the call and put it on speaker.
“Yes?”
“Sam Spencer!” A jovial, somewhat high-pitched male voice blasted through the room. “How good of you to take my call. I trust you and your partner are doing well? No lasting injuries from last night’s fire?”
Sam looked at Dex. Dex looked at Sam.
Sam cleared his throat. “Um, I’m assuming—”
“Yes, yes, yes, I’m the one you guys call ‘Boss.’ Funny how long-distance communication is never an issue until we have to speak to each other out loud. But, that’s neither here nor there. I wanted to congratulate you both on your rousing success.”
“Success?” Dex barked. A black scowl descended over his face.
The Darkling Hunters_Fox Company Alpha Page 32