Blacque-Bleu

by Belinda McBride

  Blacque groaned and thrust harder. True to Bleu’s expectations, the wolf loved that blend of pain and pleasure. Their skin slapped hard, and with the weight of the other man’s body above him, the stroking over his gland, and the rush of blood over his tongue, Bleu rose to climax, gasping, barely remembering where he was or who he was with. His back snapped tight, his balls drew up to his body, and his seed burst from him in a slick, heated pool that Blacque dipped into every time he thrust.

  Bleu cried out with each spasm, white lights flashing behind his closed lids. Just when he thought it must surely come to an end, Blacque’s cock changed position and hit his sweet spot over and over until Bleu came again, wringing every drop of seed from his balls. His body twisted, coming dry, and then coming some more, leaving him panting and exhausted.

  Blacque was so wound up, so needy that he didn’t know what the hell he wanted. He knew what he needed, though. He needed this man beneath him, taking his cock into his tight, hot body.

  Another myth busted. The vamp might run cool most of the time, but during sex, his skin was so hot, he nearly melted Blacque into a puddle of man, lust, and fear.

  Yeah, he was afraid. He was afraid that once he experienced sex with another man, he’d never be able to turn away again. He’d never be able to maintain the facade that kept his secret hidden from the pack…from his father.

  Beneath him, Bleu’s face had changed; his fangs were slightly distended. He guessed that for a vampire, sex and feeding were all rolled up into one big sensual package. He offered his throat, knowing as a werewolf, he was top of the food chain. He wasn’t food, and Bleu wouldn’t force him. But his skin burned for the penetration, for the sensation of teeth sinking into flesh, for the sharp tang of his blood to scent the air.

  He craved the knowledge that he was feeding Bleu, giving him back just a tiny bit of health. Maybe—the thought that had begun to coalesce in his lust-addled mind dissipated as Bleu’s teeth punctured his skin. After that was the sharp pull of his mouth as the blood began to flow. That tiny bit of pain was enough to roll Blacque over the edge, but he held on just a little longer. As the vampire fed, he climaxed, his slender body trapped under Blacque’s. His muscles tensed, and Bleu released his throat, his cry harsh and desperate.

  Blood smeared his lips, trickled down his chin. Blacque’s blood was vivid against the pallor of the vampire’s skin. His magnificent blue eyes went unfocused, and he held on tightly to Blacque as his body bucked and shuddered, finally expelling his cum between their bodies.

  The fluid was warm, wet, and sticky, and that tiny push knocked Blacque completely out of control. He pumped and he grunted. He slammed into Bleu’s ass, uncaring of how hard he thrust or what those damn piercings might be doing to the vampire’s tender opening. His ears rang; when he cried out, he didn’t hear his own voice. The spasms that rocked his body were so powerful, he wasn’t certain if it was pleasure or pain.

  His semen rushed from his dick, washing him in warmth. Though he lay perfectly still, he shivered as though he were freezing. He came in waves, unable to move anymore. All he could do was lie there and let the orgasm take him. He felt hands on his back, comforting and strong, and he slumped down onto his partner’s body, mindless of his own weight.

  He felt drained and powerless, helpless and overwhelmed.

  “It’s okay, Blacque. Let it go.”

  He wasn’t sure what Bleu was talking about, but Blacque simply held on to him for life itself. When he finished shuddering and panting, he turned his head to the side, resting it on Bleu’s wide shoulder. To his surprise, his eyes were wet, but he didn’t remember crying.

  Chapter 6

  “So I told you about the dreams. You tell me about the tattoos.”

  Bleu hadn’t thought the werewolf would be the sort to show physical affection, but here he was, head in Bleu’s lap, calmly accepting gentle touches to his head and temples. He leaned back against the wall, enjoying the feel of the high cheekbones under his fingers. Bleu reached up and stroked the skin next to his mouth. It had smoothed out completely. It wouldn’t last, but for now it was a good sign.

  Blacque sighed. “It’s a dumb story, really.”

  “Tell me.”

  He twisted and looked up at Bleu’s face. “When I was a kid, still with my mom, I lived in Oregon. There were lots of blackberries up there. You ever see what happens when those things grow wild?”

  Blackberries. That explained the spiny leaves and thorns of the tattoos.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen them grow wild in a few different places.”

  Blacque’s eyes dropped shut, and Bleu took the opportunity to run the tips of his fingers over his eyelids, then moved on to trace his heavy black brows.

  “They can fill up acres of land if they grow out of control. I was maybe thirteen or so. Dru’s a year younger. I’d just learned to shift not long before. I broke the rules, shifted during the day.” He paused for a moment. “Guess I was an angry kid. Must have been tough on my mom.”

  “Most kids are tough on their mothers at some point in time.”

  Blacque’s mouth turned up in a lopsided smile. “Yeah, but most mothers don’t have a closeted adolescent werewolf to deal with. And I was pissed about my dad. I couldn’t understand why he was there for his pack but not for us.” He gave a small sigh. “I skipped school to hunt out in the countryside. I was flushing rabbits at an abandoned barn. Some old guy saw me and probably thought I was a coyote. He started taking potshots at me with his rifle. I thought it would be a good idea to run for the brambles, hide deep inside one of those huge berry patches.”

  “I take it that didn’t turn out so well?”

  The wolf laughed. “I was okay as long as I stayed on the little game trails that run through those things. But as soon as I got a little turned around, I ended up with vines wrapping around my legs and body, and thorns sticking into my feet. I got so tangled that I came to a dead stop. I was stuck there for hours.”

  “In the meantime, your mother…”

  “She was frantic. When I didn’t come home after dark, she had the few local shifters out looking for me. By the morning, the police had been called.”

  Bleu ran his fingers over the wolf’s chest, once again idly playing with the golden bars through his nipples. “And you were trapped the entire time?”

  “Oh, it gets worse. Since I couldn’t untangle myself, I panicked and shifted back to human. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such pain in my entire life.”

  Bleu winced in sympathy. He’d got hooked up in rosebushes before. He couldn’t imagine being entombed by blackberry vines.

  “I was too deep into the patch to work my way out, but I did manage to shift back to wolf. I was so sliced up and bloody that even after shifting I didn’t heal right away. It took days.”

  “And I assume you slunk back home with your tail between your legs?”

  Blacque rolled his head to look up at him. “No, I collapsed just yards away from clear ground. We go back to human form when we’re unconscious. A search team with a dog found me there, all torn up and bloody. Ironically it was the man who was shooting at me who spotted me first. They all thought I’d been attacked and raped or something. I had to tell my mother what really happened, but I just told the police I didn’t remember anything. It was hard to explain why I was lying naked in a berry patch.”

  He gave a weak grin. “When I turned eighteen, I went to a tattoo shop. Thought I’d get a band around my bicep. Lots of other guys were doing it. I thought the berry vine was appropriate. Reminds me not to take stupid risks.”

  Bleu traced the trail of the original band on the wolf’s upper arm, then followed it up his arm to the shoulder, and then down his chest. The vines twisted and coiled, looking both delicate and deadly. He knew what Blacque was telling him—their involvement was a risk. A stupid risk.

  “You went a little overkill for just an armband.”

  Blacque’s grin showed some embarrassment. “Yeah, well, he
was my first crush, I guess. The fellow who inked me. He mentioned it would be cool to run it down my arm like a real vine, and I was so hot for him, I did it. After that, it was like an addiction. I’d need to see him, and the only excuse I had was to add to the tattoo.”

  “And you never let him know? Never approached him?”

  “Nah, he was straight. Had a wife and a couple of kids. He liked putting his art on my body, and he liked my money. Maybe thought I was an okay guy. Nothing more.”

  Shit. His heart ached for Blacque. The guy had spent far too many years hiding what he was while never denying it to himself. He was closeted out of necessity, because Bleu honestly didn’t think the man particularly cared what others thought. Unfortunately, being in a wolf pack, he’d risk a lot more than his pride if he came out without strong support behind him.

  “What about the piercings? Did he do them?” Bleu felt and acknowledged a slight twinge of jealousy about the unknown man who first captured Blacque’s heart.

  “Nah, he just did ink. I had a girl do those. It seemed…I don’t know…maybe a bit safer.” His smile was slightly sheepish.

  He could have exposed himself with a man. With a woman handling his genitals, any sexual response he’d have had would have seemed normal. Bleu sighed and resisted the impulse to hug the man in his arms, to hold him close and let him know that he understood. Instead he dropped a kiss on his rough knuckle, unwilling to risk frightening the skittish wolf in his bed.

  “Have you eaten?”

  Blacque stirred from the near-sleep state he’d fallen into. He pondered the question. He’d had lunch but no dinner.

  “No big deal. I’ll grab food after you sleep.”

  “No.” Bleu moved him from his lap. Blacque felt unaccountably put out—he’d found a state of mindless comfort and resented leaving it.

  “If you’re feeding me, you need to increase your food and fluid intake.” He slid from under Blacque’s body and stood in the dim light, searching for clothing.

  Blacque watched the vampire, studying the smooth flow of his muscles under skin. His body reminded Blacque of a swimmer—all lean and spare. The rough patches of scar tissue had faded away, leaving him smooth and ivory colored. His hair was unruly with waves that hadn’t been there before.

  Bleu stepped into a pair of briefs and then took a folded pair of jeans from the flimsy closet. Next followed a T-shirt—dark, maybe blue or black. He sure didn’t seem permanent, considering how long he’d lived in Arcada.

  “Come on, Blacque. Get dressed.” Bleu tossed the borrowed clothing in his direction. Now that they’d mentioned food, he was hungry. He swiftly dressed, doing his best to watch the other man the entire time.

  “We can get naked and dirty later.” Bleu gave a grin that froze Blacque’s heart in his chest. In all the years he’d known the vampire, he’d never seen him smile like that, all free and happy. Funny that you could know someone yet not really know them at all. His heart started beating again, almost as rapidly as it had when he’d been near to climax. Blood heated his cheeks. He’d do a hell of a lot more than ink his body for this man’s smile! As he dressed, he felt an almost surreal sensation. The entire thing had happened so fast. Over the years, he’d had fantasies about the vampire, wild and improbable scenarios that had taunted his dreams. The reality was much more than he’d dreamed. The heat and lust hadn’t been a surprise. What he hadn’t counted on was the emotion and the sense of belonging. It was more than he’d allowed himself to hope for.

  Without much conversation, they locked up and walked out into the moonlit night. Tomorrow—Sunday—he was to attend another pack meeting. Blacque pushed the thought away, knowing what he had to do and also knowing what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell them to leave him the hell alone, but that wasn’t going to happen. He’d never say it, and if he did, they’d certainly never leave him alone. Not his father, and certainly not the pack.

  He just didn’t know if he had it in him to really go lone. Solitary as he was, that would mean leaving Arcada and the safety it offered, as well as his sister and his few friends. Hell, he’d hate to lose his father, even though the old man could be an overbearing SOB.

  He automatically headed for his truck. Bleu walked easily beside him, matching him stride for stride. It felt good not to be alone in the dark.

  “I think there’s a diner that’s open late.”

  “Mae Belle’s. Good food there.” Blacque slid the keys into the ignition. “You don’t eat, do you?”

  Bleu smiled, and his eyes went all sleepy and sexy. “Just for pleasure. It doesn’t sustain me.” He glanced over at Blacque. “Plumbing’s all there. Doesn’t make sense not to use it now and then.”

  That explained how he’d been able to drink at the bar. He’d been hunting that night, and Blacque had been fleeing. He’d never visited that bar before. He knew its reputation. He knew there were men there looking for other men. Had he been unconsciously seeking that out?

  Blacque moved the truck smoothly out onto the approach strip into town. It was only a mile or so, and they soon saw the neon lights of the diner up ahead. When they pulled in, there was brisk business going on. He frowned for a moment.

  “High school football tonight. Musta been a home game.” Briefly he let himself remember those days back when he played for the Arcada team. Those were good times, yet sometimes they’d been bad times. He’d look up into the stands, expecting to see his mother, seeing his barely familiar father instead. His father had always been surrounded by a crowd of children, some his, some not. Dane Blacque had never belonged to just his children. He belonged to the pack.

  Pulling into the parking lot, he took another glance at Bleu, noting that under the lights of the parking lot, he looked pale but otherwise healthy. He was nearly a different person than he’d been just the night before. They’d have to talk about this, and soon.

  But Bleu’s health wasn’t his business—not really. After tomorrow, they’d go back to being neighbors in an industrial park.

  For a long moment, they sat in the cooling pickup truck, their gazes meeting in the darkness. Bleu leaned toward him slowly; his smile showed fangs glinting in the darkness. He rested those teeth right at the base of Blacque’s throat, and then he licked him slowly. Without another word, he moved away and opened the door on his side.

  “Shit.” His hands were shaking, and Blacque had to stand for a moment to let his hard-on subside. Bleu leaned against side of the truck, his back to Blacque. His pose was a bit too casual.

  It wasn’t until they entered the noisy, brightly lit diner that Blacque realized how cold it was outside. He was running hot, and the vampire was probably impervious to the weather. They probably looked out of place, the both of them wearing nothing heavier than T-shirts. Meeting Bleu’s gaze, he knew the vampire had noted their clothing as well.

  “I’ve got a jacket out in the truck.”

  Bleu just shrugged in response. He was right; they’d probably stand out even more if they tried to cover their mistake. Instead they waited for the petite blonde waitress to take them to a booth. Blacque ordered coffee, and Bleu ordered hot chocolate with whipped cream.

  “Hey, Lukas. Long time no see.” Blacque glanced at the waitress quickly and then away. His gaze dropped to the tabletop, where he idly pushed his coffee cup around in circles.

  “I asked Tiffany if it was okay to switch tables.” She gave him a flirtatious smile, and then her gaze moved to Bleu. Her nostrils flared briefly, and she turned back to Blacque.

  “Hi, Cin. How’s your family?” He racked his brain for something else to say and came up empty.

  “They’re good. But you’d know that if you ever came around. On Sundays, that is.” She smiled blithely at Bleu. “Our families like to get together sometimes on the weekend. Old friends.” Her sharp blue gaze returned to Blacque. She was one of the few females in town who wasn’t from the alpha’s bloodline. He swallowed. In all the years he’d known Cindy Thompson, she’d never shown i
nterest in him. Now she was inspecting him boldly from head to foot. The feeling made his skin crawl.

  Bleu’s smile unleashed all his charm, drawing her like a moth to a flame. In between appraising Blacque and peering at her own tables, she fell into the vampire’s flirtatious trap. Soon she was giggling at his conversation. She swept away with their orders before Blacque could even gather his thoughts.

  “I assume she’s one of the women your father wants you to…consider?”

  “Not consider. Fuck. There’s a difference.” Blacque sipped his coffee, watching Cindy warily as she worked her tables.

  “Look, there’s our esteemed mayor.” Bleu nodded toward a table in the back. “He’s an incubus, you know.”

  Blacque looked at him in surprise.

  “And our town librarian descended from a long line of fae. One of our local mail carriers is a rather frightening witch.”

  “How do you know this stuff?” Blacque looked around the diner, wondering what else he was missing. “You never get out during the day.”

  “Yes, Blacque, but after nightfall, people let their true selves come out. I’ve witnessed more in this town than you can imagine.”

  “You lookin’ in people’s windows?”

  Bleu grinned, and Blacque knew that was exactly what he’d been doing. After all, the vampire spent his day hours eavesdropping on his neighbor.

  “Arcada is a wonderful, magical place. I’m so happy it found me.”

  He looked at the vampire in surprise. “It found you?”

  Bleu was fiddling with his hands, pushing the saltshaker back and forth. “I needed somewhere to go. I was wandering, trying to keep my head low. I rode into town and my motorcycle broke down. From there, every time I tried to leave, something held me up. It seemed like a sign at the time.”

  They sat for a moment, Blacque letting the sounds and smells of the little restaurant flow over him. He caught a wild scent—a shifter who wasn’t wolf—but he couldn’t put a face to the scent.