Saving Greyson [Men of McKenna Downs 5] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Zoey Marcel

  “So, what’s it like getting stabbed in the leg?” Jake O’Neil asked with a fascinated grin on his face.

  “Well, get me a knife and I’ll show you,” Greyson retorted.

  His youngest brother laughed at this. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.”

  “If you don’t get the work done, I’m getting up to do it.”

  “Don’t you worry, I’ll get it done.” Jake got up and left.

  Diego’s voice called out to him from down the hall. “You will not leave your room or do any work!”

  Greyson rolled his eyes. “See if I don’t fire you!”

  Diego just laughed at him.

  Greyson’s other two brothers walked into his room. Hunter set a thick book on his nightstand. “I thought this might help you feel better.”

  Emmett smirked. “Good thinking, Hunter. Nothing like reading Leviticus to make a person realize it’s better to get stabbed in the leg than to be trapped under all those laws.”

  Hunter frowned and gave him one of his looks. “Not Leviticus, smart-mouth. I thought the Psalms might comfort him.”

  “Ah.”

  “Thanks,” Greyson mumbled, relieved when they both left. What he really needed now was death metal and a punching bag, or simply to be left the fuck alone to get some work done unhindered.

  Someone else knocked on his door and he sucked in an exasperated breath of air. “What?”

  The door opened quietly and his groin stirred when the maid, Melanie Laurie, peeked her head in. “I just wondered if you were thirsty or wanted anything.”

  “Maybe some more water.” He didn’t mind her doing housework and cooking, but he hated being cooped up while people waited on him.

  She picked up his glass and headed toward the door. “Would you like ice?”

  “Sure.”

  “Crushed or cubed?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “If I do choose cubed for you, how many would you like?”

  Oh now, what the hell is this?

  “I don’t know. Forget the ice if it’s too complicated.”

  Her eyes lowered. “I’m sorry.”

  He heaved a sigh of frustration when she left. He didn’t mean to take out his vexation on her. She was so sweet and patient with him.

  Why was she? She wanted something. That had to be it. He’d bet Diego had put her up to it. They were trying to trick him. Yes, of course they were. Everyone was out to get him. Well, he wouldn’t let them. He had guns and a brain. He was officially unstoppable…except of course for the sadistic bastard who stabbed him in the leg a few days ago. If he ever saw that evil Saul Finch fuck again—

  Melanie returned to his room with a glass of chilly water. The ice she’d chosen was crushed, his favorite way to have ice water. How had she known?

  She’d spied on him of course. Everyone had spied on him. No one ever left him the fuck alone.

  Then again, maybe Diego had told her. It was a happy coincidence that she’d selected his favorite way to drink water. Interesting.

  She set the glass on a coaster on his nightstand. “Enjoy.”

  “Yes, I’ll be having a field day in here.”

  Like a saint she ignored his sarcasm. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Why are you so nice all the time? Don’t you ever get mad?”

  “Sometimes, but I try not to take it out on people.”

  Was that a slam against him, or self-righteous piety talking? No one was that long-suffering. What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn’t he ruffle her? Why did he even want to? Her sweetness calmed his spirit and touched something warm and fuzzy he hadn’t known was inside of him. At times her kindness annoyed him, though.

  “Well, aren’t you perfect?”

  “I’m not perfect,” she said humbly.

  So pride wasn’t even a fault she possessed. Screw it. He’d find something wrong with her. Everyone had issues. He sure as hell did. She had to have some skeletons in her charming, tidy closet.

  “What if I threw this glass of water across the room? Would you keep being nice to me?” He wasn’t really going to do it, but he was curious as to her answer. It wasn’t like he had anything to do and it was better than thinking about his bloodthirsty enemy.

  “Well, I would clean up the water for you…and then get you a sedative.”

  He snorted, but her honesty and mild annoyance tickled his funny bone. It surprised him and apparently her as well when he cracked a half smile. “I’m sorry I’ve been…unpleasant lately. It’s hard to stay upbeat when you’re stuck in bed with nothing to do but think about the dick that stabbed you in the first place.”

  “I’m sorry. You could do a crossword puzzle.”

  He scoffed. “Oh good. While I’m filling in blocks with letters, some asshole is running around gloating somewhere.”

  She lowered her voice and sat on the edge of his bed. “Why did you tell Diego that you went to Rapid City in the middle of the night to thrill seek and accidentally got stabbed by the man you arranged to meet?”

  His heart rate spiked at the dangerous knowledge in her eyes. She knew something about the situation that none of the others did. He wondered how much. “That’s what happened.”

  Her eyes dropped and she looked disappointed like she knew he was lying. “That’s not what Saul told me.”

  Greyson’s heart pounded in his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. She’d spoken with his enemy. God, she knew. She had to, at least in part. “You spoke with Saul?”

  Melanie nodded and finally looked at him. “He called me the other night.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me he hurt you.”

  “You mean the stabbing?”

  She hesitated. “That and he said he hurt you in the past, too.”

  Greyson swallowed, feeling exposed and helpless all over again. Well, she would never want him now. Hell, even Jake probably seemed more masculine to her than him. “Did he say how?”

  “He didn’t go into detail, but I know he forced himself on you a long time ago.”

  Her words were a hard punch to his gut that left him feeling cold and weak.

  “I’m really sorry that happened to you. Do you want to talk about it?”

  He pulled his hand away when she reached for it. “God, no. Just…”

  She stood, appearing so devastated by the news she’d delivered one would think she’d been the victim instead of him. Her deep level of compassion touched him even though he desperately wanted her to get away from him right now.

  “I didn’t tell anyone about that part.”

  “Good.” His voice shook and he hated the vulnerability in it, the memories and feelings that beat ruthlessly at the door in his mind, fighting to get back in and make him dwell on them. “Don’t ever tell anyone, especially Diego.”

  “I won’t.” She paused at his bedroom door and faced him. “I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to about it.”

  “I’m fine. It was a long time ago. It happened, but it didn’t affect me.”

  Her face got sadder and he knew she didn’t believe him. Well, she had a right to be wrong. He was fine, damn it.

  “Melanie.” He waited for her to look at him before speaking again. “He had a gun and I was restrained. That’s the only reason it happened, otherwise I would have kicked his ass. I know how to defend myself.”

  Her lovely pale blue eyes were veiled with mist. “Even if that hadn’t been the case, I never thought you were weak, Greyson. You’re the most virile man I know.”

  He gave her a meager half smile. “Thanks. Crushed ice is my favorite.”

  Her smile warmed him up inside. “I thought so. Let me know if you need anything.”

  He nodded, soul taking a nosedive when she left and closed the door behind her. Her remark about his virility, while appreciated and probably sincere, could have been her being nice to him when he was down. He cherished her kindness, but he didn’t want her pity. He wanted
her respect, her admiration, and her submission. How could she ever give him those things now that she knew about his past?

  * * * *

  Saul Finch couldn’t still himself. His crabby stab buddy, Greyson had to be hearing the voices now surely. He’d thought for sure after what Greyson had endured at his hand in the past that the cowboy would start to hear the voices. He hadn’t, though. Why hadn’t he?

  Now the sexy fucker had been stabbed. Surely now he would hear the voices. How could someone be stabbed and threatened with delayed murder and not hear voices? Greyson would hear them and then he would understand Saul.

  He texted his thrilling comrade. “Do you hear voices, Greyson?”

  He waited, feeling an exhilarating rush come over him when Greyson texted back, “Yes.”

  Saul couldn’t touch the keys fast enough. “What are they saying?”

  Greyson heard the voices, too. Saul shook with emotion, barely able to stand his own arousal even as he cursed something soft and aching within him. To be understood. If Greyson really did hear the voices, he should be allowed to live. They were the same. No one else heard the voices. Maybe in time he could make the rancher understand that they were no different from each other. In time perhaps their rough, violent tumbles would turn into something more humane and intimate, like the shit he’d seen on TV where people had some kind of deeper connection beyond the physical.

  Greyson wasn’t a monster. Saul wasn’t sure if he wanted him to be or not. It would be selfish to spare the cowboy’s life when death excited him so much. Still, Saul had needs, too, and if Greyson understood him, then he needed to stick around.

  Saul’s pulse skyrocketed when he saw Greyson’s reply on his cell phone. “Fuck you.”

  Furious, he threw the phone, feeling glad that it landed on the couch and didn’t break. Saul flew to his feet in a rage and kicked a table. The voices didn’t tell Greyson that. The bastard didn’t hear anything. Saul was the only one who heard. He didn’t want to be. Someone had to either join him in this darkness or save him from it.

  He clutched his skull with both hands and gave himself over to a loud, exasperated groan. So Greyson found himself witty, did he? Oh, he was witty all right, and Saul intended to take that wit and shove it up Greyson’s hot ass…with his dick.

  Saul pounded the wall with his fist. The caustic bitch would hear the voices or die resisting their dark call.

  Chapter Two

  Greyson wanted to beat the fucker to a pulp. Now the evil prick was sending him smug victory texts? Saul hadn’t won, damn it. It just looked that way, but this wasn’t over. Oh no. It was far from over.

  He set his cell phone aside, grimacing that he didn’t get the chance to delete the message before Diego walked into his room without knocking.

  Typical.

  “It’s late,” Diego said in the dark. “Who were you texting?”

  “What are you, my jailer? Can’t I check messages without being interrogated?”

  “Forgive me.”

  “I might.” Greyson swallowed, feeling his cock start to harden when he heard Diego undressing in the darkness. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m coming to bed with you.”

  “What if someone sees?”

  “Then they will know the truth about you. It’s high time anyway.”

  “Excuse me?” Greyson growled.

  Diego made an annoying tsking sound he knew damned well bugged Greyson. “So cantankerous. Shall I milk the grouchiness out of you?”

  Greyson felt a jolt of heat go to his stomach when the other man got into bed naked with him. “Don’t call it milking. I’m not your cow.”

  Diego chortled in that mesmerizing way of his that reeked of sex appeal. “You are my cow, amigo. Shall I have you moo for me?”

  “I’m not in the mood.” Greyson’s mouth fell open when he felt warm calluses scraping gently down his shaft.

  “No? That is a shame. It’s been said on more than one occasion that I’m good with my hands.”

  “How many people have said that?”

  “So many. It’s unreasonable of you to expect me to put a number to it,” Diego teased.

  “Bastard. Jack me off and then take your leave.”

  “No, lover, it doesn’t work like that, not tonight, not ever again. You are mine, and if you want me to let you come, then you are going to answer my questions.”

  Greyson panicked inside even as the stirring in his groin intensified at the unmoving jurisdiction in Diego’s subdued tone. “It’s late.”

  “I’m doing the talking right now,” Diego snapped. “You will listen.”

  A smothered gasp strangled in Greyson’s throat when he felt Diego’s hand gripping him by the balls. His lust catapulted higher as did his apprehension for the uncomfortable direction he knew this conversation was headed.

  His cock swelled with lust and stiffened almost painfully at how powerful the Latino’s stare was even when veiled in the blackness of night. The man had to hear Greyson’s hard breathing in the stillness.

  “Very good,” Diego murmured.

  He slowly released Greyson’s scrotum. The motion was so gradual Greyson felt the freeing movement of each of Diego’s fingers lifting one at a time from his scrotal flesh. The linen sheet felt provocative against his nuts. The sheet was draped over his penis, but Diego had to see the rigid length that started to rise like a cornstalk growing beneath the hot provocation of the sun that titillated it.

  “You told me at the hospital that you drove to Rapid City in the dead of night to engage in your thrill-seeking insanity with someone who agreed to threaten you at gunpoint,” Diego reminded him.

  Greyson didn’t like the skepticism that laced his friend’s tone. “That’s what I said.”

  “It is what you said, but it is not what happened.”

  He cringed. If the man would only remove his palm that rested over his pulsing hard-on he could think more clearly.

  “Your attacker, Saul, was Melanie’s first boyfriend. Are you aware of this?”

  He knew. Saul had told him just seconds before stabbing his leg. The thought of Melanie under that sadistic fiend’s power made him sick to his stomach. She was so soft-spoken and gentle. How could anyone want to harm her? Greyson loved to fantasize about bringing her pain during a scene, but he would never do her any damage that would scar her mind and body permanently.

  Saul, on the other hand, reveled in causing irreparable damage.

  What Greyson didn’t know was why the hell Melanie hadn’t called him like he’d told her to when her relationship with Saul ended. Greyson had seen and felt the obvious chemistry between her and him, so why hadn’t she contacted him?

  “Saul mentioned her name just before he killed his brother. I figured he was connected to her in some way. Obviously he was jealous of her and stabbed me because he thought she and I were an item.”

  Diego studied him critically for a moment. “A reasonable assumption, but I still get the feeling that you’re holding back with me.”

  “You’re paranoid. The man doesn’t mean anything to me if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “Is he the same man you exchanged e-mails with years ago?”

  Greyson sighed in defeat. There was no way to win this one. Either Diego would assume that Greyson had a thing for Saul, or Greyson would have to admit that he’d driven to Rapid City that night to kill Saul. Diego would want to know why. Hell, he was smart enough that he would probably figure out why if he had any more details about the incident.

  “It doesn’t matter who it was. I just needed to indulge my insanity as you so eloquently put it. How was I to know I would get stabbed?” Greyson moved Diego’s hand from his crotch. “I wasn’t gonna fuck him if that’s what you’re insinuating. Why do you even give a damn when I freed you of our confusing relationship so you could screw Melanie?”

  Diego’s timbre came out with the softness of velvet. “You know why.”

  “I’m done answering
questions.” Greyson did his best to roll over and give the man his back without disturbing his leg.

  “Very well. I’m staying in this room with you and sharing your bed.”

  “Fine, just be gone by morning.”

  “I will do what pleases me.”

  “You always do,” he grumbled. A spike of enjoyment speared his insides when Diego spooned him from behind and nuzzled him.

  “You are stubborn, foolish, and positively infuriating. You are the very reason the cane was invented.”

  “Well, aren’t you sweet?”

  “And yet I find you completely irresistible.” Diego kissed him gently behind his ear.

  Greyson’s chest turned soft and warm inside like freshly baked bread. “You’re pretty addictive yourself.”

  Diego placed his hand over Greyson’s semi-erect dick and left it there.

  “Well?”

  “You will not be coming tonight, esclavo. You did not answer my question truthfully or perhaps only in partial honesty. Now you must be punished for it.”

  Greyson heaved a deep exhale. “Fine, then move your hand.”

  “My hand stays right where it is. If you’re a good boy and tell me the truth, I’ll make you come so hard.”

  He moaned and felt his cock pulse at the scant brush of Diego’s palm over it. “How do you know I won’t jerk off while you’re asleep?”

  “You would not have told me so if it was your intention to do that. I know how much you burn for my touch and ache for the control I have over you. It’s like a drug to you, isn’t it, esclavo?”

  Greyson felt his shaft thicken as Diego slowly stroked his private flesh up and down beneath the sheets. “You keep calling me that. What does it mean?”

  “Someday I will tell you.”

  “I could just look it up.” That earned him a sudden smack on the balls. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “You do not look it up. When I am ready to tell you, I will tell you. Until then you wait patiently for my will.”

  His slit oozed with pre-cum. The nerves in his glans tingled with heat beneath the weightless tear.

  “Yes.”

  Diego’s erotic hiss coaxed the sexual tear from his cockhead, encouraging it over the edge. Greyson’s faint gasp was the only sound that filled the darkness as the trickle of desire wet his hot flesh with its steamy kiss on the way down.