The Brotherhood - Single White Fang Part 6

"So, you skipped out of work for the whole night?" David persisted, fingers still working, although by now they were squeaking through ultra-clean hair. "Then you came over and took everything off both of us?"

"You were the one who led us to the shower," Jory retorted. "I kind of liked what we did last time. You, me, a wall -- it was all very romantic."

"The wall had trouble coping afterward." David's frame shook with laughter. "I had to plaster up a crack."

"Oops?"

"Wasn't any trouble," David rea.s.sured Jory. "But I thought, maybe this time, slow and easy ...?"

Jory let his mouth curve in a grin. "So you want this to be a 'next time'?"

"You -- you didn't?" David's fingers stilled. He began to draw back.

Jory scrambled to head him off at the pa.s.s. "Of course, I did," he said, catching David by the hand. Tossing hair back out of his face, he stood at his full height to meet the other man's gaze, eye-to-eye. "A guy like you -- how am I supposed to resist?"

A slow smile spread across David's features. Jory couldn't help kissing the budding grin, licking at his lover's lips until they parted for him and let him inside. Seemed like David was a quick study, and he worked that tongue of his with almost as much skill as had taken Jory over a hundred years to learn.

"You're good at this," Jory crooned, cupping David's a.s.s. "I'm impressed."

"Really?" David's grin became crooked. "Then get ready to be totally blown away, okay?" He began to sink to his knees, careful of the slippery shower floor. When Jory put a startled hand out to stop him, David looked up through the droplets of water spattering his face. "There is one thing I know besides antiques and cooking," he said shyly. "Last time, I was on the receiving end.

Let me, this time ...?"

Jory felt his mouth go cotton-dry. "Oh, G.o.d." He fumbled in the shower caddy for a condom that he'd stuck there earlier with a wicked look at David, which had earned him a smiling blush.

"Is that a yes?" David peered at him like a child asking for a cookie. "I want to suck you, Jory. I've been thinking about taking you in my mouth ever since you took off your pants and I saw your beautiful p.e.n.i.s."

"Oh, baby." Jory thumbed David's cheek. He'd planned to lavish David's body with another dose of loving, but how the h.e.l.l could he say no? Instead, he relaxed against the shower wall, spreading his legs wide. His c.o.c.k, already hard, hung between his legs as he tore open the condom and rolled it down his member, tingling at the feel of his own hand, thrilling at the antic.i.p.ation of a mouth, his lover's mouth, on him. "Do whatever you want, David. I bet you turn in a virtuoso performance playing this particular wind instrument."

David's eyes actually lit with a wicked-looking sparkle. "I've been told I do all right," he said quietly, before spreading both palms wide on Jory's thighs and leaning forward to take the head of Jory's c.o.c.k into his mouth. Jory had just a moment to register the motion before his world exploded into pure pleasure.

Had he thought David knew how to use his mouth before? Holy f.u.c.k, this man could blow for the Olympics. Jory vaguely registered a tongue expertly working up and down his length, warm wetness surrounding him, then a slow ... slow ... squeezing, tight ... slow slide.

He glanced down, saw David's nose nestled in the curls around his pubic bone, and all but bucked in shock. The man had taken every inch of him in, a full deep-throat, without any effort!

And did it feel wonderful! Jory had never been on the receiving end of a full swallow before, and as David worked his throat muscles, he thought he'd died and was actually seeing heaven, no matter what the shouting preachers raved about and thumped their bibles over.

"David, David, David," he babbled, fumbling for purchase and finally finding it with a hand on either of David's shoulders.

His lover made a humming noise that sent vibrations through the length and width of Jory's d.i.c.k, driving him wild, then began to bob up and down, taking him down his throat as easily as c.o.c.ks slid into a.s.ses.

Jory couldn't take this kind of action for long. A hundred years of experience meant nothing when compared with the earnest loving of a man who wanted to do his best and had turned the skill of giving a good b.l.o.w. .j.o.b into a d.a.m.ned fine art form.

Gripping at David's shoulders, he struggled to get his message across: he was going to come, and soon.

David glanced up, briefly, his eyes dark with the sort of pa.s.sion Jory marveled at for the split second before, like a punch to the gut, his o.r.g.a.s.m shattered his mind. Pulse after pulse of seed filled the condom. He found a spare brain cell to mourn the lack of choice as to spit or swallow -- he'd have loved to see David drinking him down. Had to play by the rules, though. A vampire pretending to be human had to use the d.a.m.nable rubbers. But then again, who the h.e.l.l cared when his brains were on fire from coming hard enough to all but fall down on his a.s.s?

Jory wobbled as David slowly drew off him, pulled the condom away, tied it off, and tossed the thing into his trash can.

Every movement seemed laced with a drugged stupor. This man, this unbelievable man, belonged to Jory. He could hardly believe it, and he'd just lived through the proof.

David rose to his feet, his expression both proud and bashful. It begged for a kiss, and Jory, shaking his head to clear it first, was glad to oblige, smothering David's face with the scorching pressing of lips to skin. And condom or not, he'd be d.a.m.ned all over again if he didn't give his lover something in return to thank him for that b.l.o.w. .j.o.b of several lifetimes. Not giving David the chance to say no, or to insist on hunting for another condom, he reached between them and got a solid handful of the man's erection.

G.o.d, he loved David's c.o.c.k -- long, thick, full, and heavy. Silk over steel. He began to pump his lover hard and fast, holding him up when David buckled and moaned. This time he was the one providing support as David leaned into him, the one rubbing patterns and circles into his lover's flesh with his free hand, and the one who felt a c.o.c.k erupting in his fist.

Best of all, when David came, he sank his teeth into the curve of Jory's neck, right at his hot spot. Didn't break the skin, of course, but the shock of bliss was enough to give him a second small, dry o.r.g.a.s.m.

They stood supporting each other, the steaming water showering down around them slowly turning cold, murmuring words without meaning as they ebbed down from the highest of peaks into a warm valley of afterglow.

When Jory could speak clearly again, he kissed David hard and swore against his mouth, "I'm taking another night off again as soon as I can."

"You promise?"

"Just watch me."

"I always do," David said, blus.h.i.+ng. Watching him, Jory thought his heart might start beating again.

David brought him back from the grave. David made him feel alive.

"Oh ... h.e.l.l." Jory collapsed onto David's chest, his spent member still pulsing deep inside his partner's channel. David, eyes closed, thrilling to the feeling of Jory buried within him, stroked both hands down his lover's sweat-sheened back and made a low sound of contentment."Go ahead and bury me," he murmured hazily. "Six feet deep, with lilies and chrysanthemums. I'm dead."

"Oh, no, you're not." Jory bobbed up to kiss David all too briefly, then slipped out of his hole and slumped against his chest, ear pressed above David's heart. "Still beating. You're alive, me old son. And kicking. G.o.d, were you kicking."

"It's not much ..." David felt embarra.s.sed, even though it wasn't the first time Jory had f.u.c.ked him. He always made such a big deal about the act, wonderful though it was -- as if David were something special and the way he took a c.o.c.k was worth writing home about. "I just lay here."

Jory laughed shortly, out of breath. "Like a champ, you lay there. I can still feel your heels digging into my back. Very flexible. Seriously impressive."

"Sweet talker." David hesitated, then laid his hand over Jory's shoulder. He gave the muscle a light squeeze. "You were ...

G.o.d, there aren't words. No one's ever ... not like you."

Jory raised his head a bit. "David, I'm the one who isn't world-cla.s.s," he said earnestly. "I'm just a guy who happens to love making love."

"And it shows."

"Seriously, though. Why don't you give yourself some credit? It takes more than lying on your back or your belly to be the kind of fantastic bottom that you are."

David shrugged. "I guess I was trained well."

"That makes you sound like a dog."

Dog. David grew still, his fingers coming to a stop on Jory's skin. "Yeah," he said through numb lips. "I got the beatings and the treats."

"The -- you're serious?" Jory lifted himself onto his elbows, staring David down. "Tommy. Your ex, the one you've mentioned. He beat you? Often?"

"Almost killed me." David s.h.i.+fted. "The lump of scar tissue over my ribs ... that's from where he kicked my chest when I was down. I told you about the attack ..."

"No." Jory shook his head. "I mean, I know about the bas.h.i.+ng you took, and I swear on all that's holy and unholy, that for your sake I will kick more than Tommy's a.s.s if I ever come across him, but he hit you before then?"

David shrugged and remained silent.

Jory swore, low, vicious, and vehemently. David flinched, but the man didn't seem to notice even as, when Jory's hands bunched into fists, David found himself beginning to shake.

"He's dead," Jory said at last. "I'm going to hunt the f.u.c.ker down."

"Jory, don't."

"Limb from limb. He'll pay."

"Jory, no. Jory -- please!" His lover stopped in mid-tirade and looked down at David, puzzled eyes in an angry visage.

David stroked that face and tried to make Jory understand. "I don't want to talk about him. I don't want Tommy to be mentioned in the bed where we've just ... he's not part of this, what we have between you and me, Jory. You make me feel like a man. He made me feel like an animal." He bit his lip. "I love you for that, you know."

"Ah, David." Jory shut his eyes tightly, then lifted one of David's hands to his mouth for a kiss. "I won't mention him again unless you bring up the subject, then. I promise. But listen to me, and you listen good, okay? Don't you ever let anyone tell you you're not good enough. David, I've been around the block, and you are a jewel among men. You're the kind of guy everyone hopes they'll be lucky enough to end up with, male or female. You're the gold ring on the carousel, and I managed to snag you.

I'm grateful for you every second of every day."

He bestowed a second kiss upon another knuckle, then a third, and a fourth. "And not just when we're having s.e.x, either. I like you dancing in the kitchen, reading the newspaper on your couch, talking on the phone to those friends of yours, Liam and Christian and Quentin. I love you, too, any way I can get you. And I promise you, that is the truth. Do you believe me?"

David swallowed hard, letting the words wash over him in waves. Safety. Acceptance. Belonging. Home. Jory. "I -- I can try," he said after a long and pregnant pause. "I'm sorry. This isn't easy. I wish I could give you more, but ..."

"Beatings and treats," Jory repeated. He lay back down on David's chest, running his fingers over the ridged scar. "You don't ever have to worry about me, David. I'll never hurt you, not if I can help myself. Not on purpose or even accidentally. Strike me down with lightning if I'm lying."

David held himself still for a beat, then relaxed with a conscious effort. He stroked the flat of his broad palm over Jory's soft waves of hair, molding them to the scalp and letting the curls spring back. "I'm trying to believe you," he said quietly, wondering if Jory would hear him.

Jory did. "Then that'll have to be enough. For now. And I plan on sticking around to show you each and every time we're together that this isn't just about s.e.x. This is love. I cherish you, David, and I'll let what I feel for you s.h.i.+ne through every time we're in the same place. Even when we're not." He nestled his head down. "I'm listening to your heart beat. I love the rhythm.

Love you. Believe me, David. Please believe me."

G.o.d help him, he couldn't not. He closed his eyes and let the afterglow take him away into a world of softly glowing curves and planes, Jory curled up tightly against him.

He didn't realize when exactly he began to hum an old country love song, but it was the best accompaniment possible for the pair of them as they slipped into a sweet, deep slumber ...

David believed.

Chapter Seven

David examined the slip of glossy paper in his hands for a long minute. He turned it over, glancing at the details of another citrus diet Micah had ordered him to start. Orange juice for breakfast with half a grapefruit. Lemon water for a snack. Hmm.

If that was how Micah had lost weight, Micah could keep the secret all to himself. Three more days on a diet like that and he'd start juicing if anyone hugged him.

Hugs ... mmm, yeah. David knew he had a dopey grin on his face, but he couldn't help it. Discovering Jory the way he had still amazed him. The guy was everything David had always wanted. Good-natured, always finding the joke in something. Boy- next-door cute. Great in bed. Didn't know anything about antiques, but you couldn't have everything -- and he actually wanted David, too.

As a sweet bonus, Jory was a closet cuddler and loved to get cozy after s.e.x. And he was also accepting. David never forgot that for a moment. Jory took him for what he was and actually seemed to like him that way.

Yeah, forget the citrus diet. The last thing he wanted was to get Jory all sticky. David paused, thinking about that for a moment, then started chuckling. Well, he did want to get Jory all messed up, but maybe not with lemon juice. He'd learned the hard way that acidic fluids did not make for happy times in the lands down under.

Amused, David flipped the paper back over to the recipe for spaghetti sauce that had caught his eye. It'd been a great half- day at the Antique Barn, with the afternoon off to do whatever he wanted. He'd be stuck going to that weird gay dance club tonight at nine, Liam's orders Not To Be Disobeyed, but he could handle it if he had Jory to come home to.

It'd be great if he had something ready for them after he made an early night of it ...

David figured he could either work on the trunk some more, trying some more of the hundreds of keys he'd collected, or he could start on a romantic dinner for two. But pasta? Noodles had the potential to either be a huge mess or a great success.

David hesitated, torn, before the picture of the candlelit table on the bottom of the page decided him. He'd make the sauce, anyway. It'd keep if Jory was busy. Or, if they got busy together. He could only hope.

The one and only problem with dating a night-s.h.i.+ft worker was a h.e.l.l of a big one. They'd barely managed to meet three times in the two weeks since the Fest, all just after sunset, before Jory had to go to work.

Still, all of those times had ended between the sheets. David grinned again. And how they'd ended! He'd even laid in a stock of condoms and lube in his bedside drawer. He'd started keeping fresh daisies on the kitchen table for decoration during postcoital snacks. To his embarra.s.sment, he'd even found himself doodling Jory's name on a customer's receipt.

"You're a moron," he told himself. "All these hearts and flowers are for kids. And talking to yourself is for crazy people."

Yeah, but it didn't stop him from having the time of his life. He reached for his phone, hesitated, then grabbed it up. Jory's number lay beside it on the table, but he knew the numbers by heart already.

David punched them in, then listened to the trill on the other end as he lowered himself onto his couch.

Three-thirty p.m., so he could expect at least three rings. Jory took his sleep pretty seriously. David guessed all graveyard- s.h.i.+ft workers did. Fortunately, he never seemed to mind being woken. In fact, he genuinely appeared to like it when David called.

Once again, David marveled at finding Jory. Sometimes he thought about Liam's kiss, but he always brushed that aside as coincidence. Liam wasn't really magic. He'd just had great timing. But then, didn't he always?

On the other end of the line, David heard a loud fumbling sound, then a clatter. He grinned. Jory must have dropped his cell again. There was m.u.f.fled cursing, then a deliciously pitiful "h.e.l.lo?" croaked out.

"Hey, Jory," David said softly. "Guess who?"

"Ahh." There was a sound of rumpling and s.h.i.+fting that would be Jory turning over onto his back. He slept naked -- he'd told David as much -- and his sheets would be all tangled around his body.

David imagined Jory running a hand across his chest as he adjusted the cell next to his ear. "If I had to be dragged out of some great erotic dreams, there's no one else I'd rather have call me."

"What kind of erotic dreams?" David stretched out, sighing in contentment at the way the couch cradled his long legs. "Did I feature in them?"

"Lead role." Jory yawned. "Oh, G.o.d, sorry. I'm just tired. The yawn is in no way a reflection on your performance. You.

Were. Extraordinary."

"Okay, given the extenuating circ.u.mstances, and that it was a yawn and not a burp, I'll forgive you."

"Haven't eaten. There wasn't time after the s.h.i.+ft last night. You know, we caught that college kid trying to sneak back in and donate for the third time this week? He must think we're either really stupid or totally desperate for O positive." "That poor guy. I wonder what his deal is?" David s.h.i.+fted position. Sometimes he wondered if Christian ... but nah. He had more sense than that. David hoped. "It's not legal to pay for blood donation, is it? That's a pretty common misconception. Maybe he's trying to earn a few bucks to eat?"

"Nah, no money. Just juice and cookies afterward. That guy needed them, too. The nurse tried to give him some and send him on his way."

"Did it work?"