Homecoming (Dartmoor Book 8)

by Lauren Gilley

  She thought of her own current state of mind. There was nothing wrong with her, physically. She had a roof over her head, and loving parents, and a best friend, and this place was her home; it was comfy in all the well-worn, best-known ways that Chicago hadn’t quite been. She didn’t wish she was still with Jason…but she missed him. Sometimes. Lots of times. Mainly at night, when she stared up at the dark ceiling and listed all the ways she could have handled things differently. She felt like a failure. Maybe if she’d been more affectionate, or spent less time at work, or if they’d tried going to counseling…

  “Right,” she agreed, throat tight.

  He glanced away, absently toward the window. “Anyway.”

  It was awkward now. She didn’t know if Carter had the energy or the savvy to fix that.

  “So what happens now?” she asked.

  His brows went up, and he looked back toward her almost cautiously.

  “With the guys who ran off. You said Tenny and Reese were going to follow them?”

  “That was the plan.” His expression turned grim, but his body relaxed, some of the tension dropping from his shoulders. “They were told not to engage with anyone, but with those two, who knows. Reese is pretty good about following orders, but Tenny’s a total wild card. He got himself shot in Texas being a dumbass.”

  “Engage,” she said. “This really is spy shit, isn’t it?”

  “Kinda? I guess? I dunno. All I know is that those two aren’t your regular garden variety biker.”

  “Where’d they come from? I thought Tenny was British, the other day at Dartmoor.”

  “Oh, he is. He does accents, same as Fox.” He made a face. “Honestly, I think he’s from hell.”

  Eleven

  Each time they ended up like this – which happened with more and more frequency – Reese marveled that he’d gone so long without anything like it. It wasn’t something he’d wanted before; he’d never thought about it, never wondered, really. There was a part of him that felt…lesser, for enjoying it. He’d been a finely crafted machine, and machines didn’t want or hunger.

  But he was a person now, after all, so this was expected. Was encouraged.

  They were in his dorm; Tenny had his own, but rarely seemed to use it, and never for anything like this.

  Reese sat propped against the headboard, his legs spread, Stephanie on all fours between them. The hot, wet suction of her mouth on his cock had blurred his normally-sharp senses. He watched her through low-lidded eyes that kept wanting to flutter shut; watched the stretch of her painted lips, the golden cascade of her hair over his thighs, rustling forward and backward as her body was rocked. Watched the smooth dip of her bare back. And, behind her, fucking into her steadily, Tenny, his hands tight on her hips, his bare, flexing torso sheened in sweat. A lock of dark hair had curled and stuck to his forehead, shifting with every thrust of his hips. Stephanie’s mouth would go slack every few moments, and she would make a low, humming sound in her throat, overwhelmed by Tenny’s cock inside her.

  It still wasn’t quite familiar: this onslaught of sensation. The way his stomach fizzed, and his belly clenched and tingled. The way his lungs didn’t quite work, and the pressure built, and he felt so, so good, chasing a feeling that was even better. If he’d looked down, he would have seen the way his chest heaved, his nipples drawn up tight; the way his stomach looked caved in; the way the veins stood out in the juncture of his hips. Would have seen himself lost to this moment, to sensation and indulgence.

  But instead he looked up; he watched Tenny. The way his face was tight, his cheeks hollow. The way he bit his lip, and watched himself disappearing inside Stephanie’s body over and over.

  Then, like always, his head lifted, and his gaze met Reese’s, glassy-bright, dilated, but still penetrating. Still so riveted and riveting – Reese was helpless to look away, even as he felt his cock hit the back of Stephanie’s throat. He felt pinned back against the headboard, as Tenny stared at him, and snapped his hips hard. Reese watched him, and for a moment, Stephanie faded, and the pleasure wasn’t tied to her, but to the way Tenny watched him in return.

  It was…

  But then Tenny stopped, and sat back. Pulled out of her. “Hey.” He rested a hand on the small of her back. “Sit up. Get on him.”

  Stephanie’s expression was one of hazy pleasure as she pulled slowly off Reese’s cock with one last mind-numbing suck, and straightened up on her knees. She turned to glance back over her shoulder at Tenny, smirking, dabbing at her mouth with her fingertips. Her voice was rough. “You could say ‘please,’ you know.”

  Tenny stared at her, and said nothing, his jaw set.

  Stephanie chuckled, and shifted around so she could place a hand on Tenny’s chest – Reese saw the muscle flicker, like he wanted to flinch away – and lean in close. She whispered something in his ear that Reese couldn’t make out; something that caused Tenny’s brows to jump, once. She chuckled again, and kissed him.

  For a moment, Tenny didn’t respond, his mouth slack against her imploring one. Then his eyes closed, and his hands moved, suddenly; he gripped her head, hands fisted in her hair, and kissed her back. Aggressively. Reese could see the thrust of his tongue into her mouth.

  Belatedly, he realized he was stroking himself, and stilled, hand closed tight around his cock.

  Tenny drew back from the kiss first, panting, licking his lips.

  Stephanie gave a low hum that sounded satisfied, like after she’d come. “Didn’t take you for the shy type, honey.”

  “Shut up,” Tenny said, without heat. “Turn around. Get on him, like I said.”

  She rolled her eyes as she turned back around. “Yes, sir.” But she shuffled up the bed and straddled Reese’s hips. The dark, anticipatory look returned to her face as she brushed his own hand from his cock, took the hard length in hers, and lined him up; sank down on him. Took him to the halt all in one, slow press.

  “Mm,” she hummed, settling, raking her nails lightly down his chest. “You feel good, baby.”

  Tenny crowded in close behind her, and Reese’s stomach, already taut with restraint, gave a little flip. His gaze shifted from her face, up and over to Tenny’s; to the clenched jaw, the hooded blue eyes, the unreadable, tense set of his mouth.

  He held a little tube in his hands, one that he unscrewed. “Move,” he told Stephanie.

  She let out a dramatic exhale. “He’s so bossy, how do you stand him?” But she did start to move; lifting and then setting back down, rolling her hips like a dancer.

  It was good – too good. Reese had to close his eyes a moment and breathe harshly through his nose to keep from coming as Stephanie’s pace picked up. His hands reached out blindly, found her knees, her thighs, strong and flexing beneath his touch.

  She shifted, and the angle changed, suddenly. He opened his eyes to find that Tenny had a hand between her shoulder blades, urging her forward. She gripped the edge of the headboard on either side of Reese’s head, her breasts swaying forward into his face. Her breath hitched, and her eyes, when he glanced up, had gone very wide.

  “Any objections?” Tenny asked.

  She clenched tight around Reese. “No. Go for it.”

  Reese didn’t understand at first what was happening. Stephanie continued to move, but it was a gentler rocking motion now, and her sex would tighten in sudden little spasms that matched a sudden intake of breath. He felt…movement. Something…

  And then, with a sudden rush of heat to his face, he recalled something Tenny had said a couple weeks ago, one of those aimless, half-asleep conversations they’d had lying side by side on the mattress after Stephanie had left. We should both fuck her at once some time. Front and back. He’d gone on to explain the mechanics of that after Reese’s questioning look, laughing at whatever Reese’s face had done in response.

  Not such an aimless idea after all, it seemed.

  Tenny was prepping her – a knowledge confirmed when, as Tenny added more lubricant, he slid his f
ingers down to her sex, where she was joined with Reese, and then cupped Reese’s balls, briefly, in one slick hand. He squeezed and retreated, before Reese could even suck in a breath, and then Stephanie was rocking a little more forcefully on his cock, pressing back against Tenny.

  She moaned. “Oh…okay, yeah. I’m ready. Come on.”

  More shuffling, a slick sound.

  Reese looked up over Stephanie’s shoulder, and it was Tenny’s face, and not hers, that he watched as Tenny pushed slowly inside her. The shine of sweat on his brow, his lashes low and dark on hollowed cheeks. The glimpse of white as he gritted his teeth against the tightness of it.

  He worked his way in slow, and Reese realized that he could feel him. The shape and heft and pressure of his cock, separated only thinly from his own. Both of them inside her at once. Both of them feeling the tight, hot grip; seeking pleasure together in a new, wholly more intimate way than they had so far.

  It was so…so…

  Tenny started to move, and Stephanie started to move, and Reese was lost to it. Dragged out by the tide of sensation and crashed against the rocks of overwhelming pleasure.

  The pressure on his cock was exquisite, but it was Tenny’s face he watched the whole time, when he could watch, when his eyes didn’t close, as Stephanie got louder and louder, tossing her head, moaning, and cursing.

  “Yes, yes, yes, oh God, so full…Jesus Christ…”

  She gripped Reese’s hair and yanked his head forward against her breasts, heaving as she was bounced by Tenny’s ever-quickening rhythm. He pressed his face to her smooth, heated skin and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, because he knew it was what she wanted. Absently. His entire awareness had narrowed down to the feel and the knowledge of Tenny’s cock right there against his own.

  It was so much.

  Stephanie cried out as she came, her sex spasming and clenching on his cock. She lifted away from him – Reese’s eyes fluttered open and he saw that Tenny had lifted her, an arm around her middle, pulling her back against his own shoulder while he continued to thrust up subtly into her ass. His gaze was on Reese, sprawled back, and sweaty; his other hand slid down Stephanie’s belly, skimmed over her sex, and his fingertips brushed the base of Reese’s cock.

  That was all it took to tip him over the edge. Orgasm hit him with a full-body clench, and a rush. His lungs seized, and his hips kicked, and starbursts bright as fireworks crowded his vision – but didn’t overtake it completely. He could still see Tenny, his flared nostrils, his lip bitten until it bled.

  He drifted, heavy and drugged, body still sensitive as a live wire, but the exhaustion immediate and all-consuming. He couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to. Watched in a kind of daze as Tenny moved back and lifted a nearly-limp Stephanie off of him. Pulling out was always unpleasant; Reese curled his lip as his softening cock flopped down onto his thigh.

  He closed his eyes a moment, breathing.

  And opened them again when the bed dipped afresh between his legs, and a hand touched his face.

  Stephanie lay beside him now, curled up on her side, expression dreamy, her eyes closed.

  Tenny knelt in front of him, cupping his face; a darted glance proved that he was still hard. He’d stripped off his condom, and held his cock in his other hand, as a thumb traced Reese’s chin – and then his lower lip.

  Tenny’s gaze, when he met it, was feral. As bright and bloodthirsty as when he was fighting. His voice was low and rough. “Did you like seeing her like that?”

  Reese was too tired and pleasure-drunk to attempt verbal banter. He could only be honest. “I liked seeing you.”

  Tenny’s eyes widened – fast and sudden and real in a way they never were out in the rest of the clubhouse, in front of others. Then he surged forward and kissed Reese.

  They’d done this off and on – practice, Tenny always said. Reese needed to learn how to kiss properly so he could keep the ladies pleased. He was getting better at it, he knew, because Tenny would draw back sometimes, a little breathless, and give a tight nod. Good.

  He was uncoordinated, now; was more passive than anything, opening for the press of Tenny’s tongue, yielding and giving beneath an aggressive, biting kiss that tasted like blood and felt like an attack. Tenny panted against his mouth, harsh, pained sounds. Reese could hear the slick, rhythmic noises he knew meant that Tenny was touching himself. And then Tenny bit his lip, hard, and hot jets splashed across Reese’s belly.

  Tenny had come. On him.

  Tenny kept kissing him; fast, small little nibbles, grinding their foreheads together, mashing their noses. His breathing was audible and vocal, not like he felt good, but was in pain.

  Reese didn’t like that at all. Sex was supposed to be fun, and satisfying, and not painful, no. So much else was. Recreation was supposed to be just that, he’d learned.

  He lifted his arms, and started to close them around Tenny, planning to reel him in for an embrace.

  But Tenny jerked backward. “Shit,” he muttered, and, shakily, nearly falling, he leaped off the bed.

  Reese sat upright, reaching, trying to catch his gaze.

  But Tenny ducked his head and went into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Reese let his hand fall. Sat a moment, frowning to himself.

  Beside him, Stephanie said, “Heh.”

  ~*~

  Tenny came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, dressed in sweatpants and carrying a damp cloth that he handed to Reese. Stephanie was up and about, moving with her usual post-hookup efficiency. Once the sex stopped, she was a whole different person, and Reese was deeply appreciative of the way she didn’t place any demands upon them. She took her clothes and shoes and ducked into the bathroom. A moment later, the shower cut on.

  Reese cleaned up as best he could with the cloth, and then flopped back, flat-out on the bed. His skin was cooling, and in a few minutes, he’d be chilled and pull up the blankets, but for now, he was lax, and tired, and comfortable.

  Except that little voice in the back of his head telling him something wasn’t quite right.

  Tenny puttered around the room, gathering their clothes and folding them on the dresser. He trashed the condom wrappers and squeezed a spritz of air freshener.

  Finally, when it couldn’t be avoided any longer, he stretched out on the bed beside Reese, like usual.

  In the bathroom, the water shut off. A few minutes later, Stephanie emerged, her face scrubbed clean of makeup, hair twisted up into a clip, dressed and presentable. “Thanks, boys,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “That was fun.” She gave them a quick wave, and was gone.

  Only then did Reese turn his head on the pillow and say, “Are you okay?”

  Tenny lay with his hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling, hair slicked back off his face, profile limned in lamplight. He had a very straight nose, and defined brow ridges. His mouth, when he wasn’t making faces, which he always seemed to be doing, was soft and pink.

  His throat jumped as he swallowed, before he answered. “Yeah. Just tired.”

  Reese continued to stare at him, trying hard to read this strange mood that had come over him. He was good at reading emotion and intent on an op: knowing when someone was about to bolt, to confess, to strike. Knew how to read body language in anticipation of an attack.

  But this was trickier. This was delicate.

  He thought about Tenny pulling back before, his quiet curse. Sharing Stephanie together like that had been his idea, so Reese didn’t think he was regretting it. But the faintest wrinkle marred his brow, and this silence was tense, and not comfortable.

  An unpleasant thought occurred. “Did I do it wrong?”

  Tenny turned his head, finally, his brows lifted. “What?”

  “What we just did.” His face heated at the idea. “Did I do it wrong?”

  Tenny blinked. And then snorted, face splitting into a grin – that lacked real humor. Tenny’s true smiles were rare t
hings, eyes crinkling and dimples popping in his cheeks. This wasn’t one of them; this one hinted at some unpleasant emotion Reese couldn’t parse. “No. No.” He looked toward the ceiling again. “There’s definitely nothing wrong about the way you fuck, trust me.”

  Reese wasn’t convinced.

  Tenny said, “Stop staring at me, you tit.”

  Reese propped up on an elbow, so he could better assess his expression. Tenny’s eyes flicked over, and then away, his frown deepening. “You didn’t mind that I was staring at you before.”

  Tenny let out a short breath. “Yes, well, that was different, wasn’t it? You might as well have been staring at the wall you were so far gone.”

  “No,” Reese said, evenly. When Tenny got worked up, which he could sense him doing now, he’d found that his own instinct was to mellow. To keep calm; he’d never thought of himself as being a grounding presence for anyone – he’d never thought about how he related with anyone at all – but that seemed to be the case in this relationship. “I was looking at you. On purpose.”

  “With her tits right in your face?”

  “When we’re like that – when it’s – your face…”

  Tenny’s eyes flicked over again, too much of the whites showing, like he was spooked. “What about my face?”

  Reese didn’t know how to put it into words, the way looking at it, taut with pleasure and effort, while he felt his own pleasure, heightened every aspect of the act. If he was honest, none of the sex he’d had in the past few months – the only sex he’d ever had – had been about the women. He liked their bodies, their attention, and affection, and enjoyment. But he had no desire to spend an evening alone with any of them. He wanted Tenny there. He wanted to know it was good for both of them, together.

  He reached out, on instinct, and touched Tenny’s face the way that Tenny had touched his own, earlier.

  Tenny went very still, and his eyes widened another impossible fraction.

  “I like your face,” he said, because it was all he could think to say, no matter how inadequate. And he ducked his head and kissed him.