by Maz Maddox
There were two beds in the room, neatly made with ugly beige blankets and white pillows.
Two beds.
I was starting to feel extremely awkward about kissing him now.
I trudged to the far bed next to the weird old painting of a diner and tossed my bag onto it. The fossil case was placed on the side near the wall so it was out of the way.
“Royal said he’ll keep us updated,” Dalton said from behind me. “He’ll make sure to track any mention of Kentucky in the emails.”
“Good.” I rubbed at my eyes and unzipped my duffle to get my toiletries out. A nice hot shower would help, but I knew I wasn’t going to be falling asleep quickly. As I turned around, I was greeted by a smirking man with a mohawk and mischievous blue eyes.
“Hey,” he said oh-so casually, gesturing to my supplies. “Where you goin’?”
“The shower…? Did you want to go first?”
“No.” The twinkle in his eyes was back, and my stomach flipped. “I want to join you.”
“In the shower?” I asked like it was just the most scandalous thing I had ever heard.
“Uh-huh.” He stepped closer, so I stepped back, my calves hitting the bed behind me. With my balance compromised, Dalton lightly pushed my chest so I would fall backwards onto the bed. Naturally, this left me powerless as he crawled on top of me and straddled my hips, leaning over me with his hands planted by my head.
Being underneath him was a hell of an experience. It felt like I was trapped in a lion’s sights, but was strangely fine with being ravished. My heart was pounding, my stomach unhelpfully summoning more butterflies to join the tornado in my gut, and my blood was rushing south too quickly for my brain.
I must have looked like a scared, possibly horny deer in the headlights, because Dalton’s grin widened.
“Do you still think I’m fucking with you?” he asked in a low tone, his icy eyes hooded as he glanced at my mouth.
Since I couldn’t speak, I shook my head. My heart was drumming in my ears as he bent his elbows and lowered himself closer to me. I could feel myself swallow involuntarily, my nerves running wild as his lips neared mine.
“Do you want me to stop?” Dalton whispered, his breath dancing over my lips.
I paused, getting my breathing a little more steady, and swallowed again.
“No,” I managed, sounding more stable than expected.
“Good.” That goddamn grin was all over his face as he dismounted, leaving me alone on the bed. I blinked and sat up on my elbows as he extended his hand for me. Dalton pulled me to my feet after I grabbed it and started leading us to the shower.
I followed in a haze, too nervous to do much more than be led along like a puppy. Dalton got the shower going before turning to me, stepping in close to tug at my shirt.
“Off,” he commanded, practically stripping the simple cotton shirt off my frame. His amused smirk shifted into a gaze of longing, his bottom lip being pulled into his mouth by his teeth so he could bite it. No one had ever looked at me like I was a dessert before, but that was the only way I could describe the look in his eyes. Long fingers traced down my chest and stomach, while his other hand tipped my chin up to meet his lips.
The second kiss wasn’t like my quick peck behind the fiberglass dimetrodon. Dalton kissed me slowly and deliberately, his hand cupping my jaw while he teased my lips with his tongue. Jesus Christ, he melted me with that kiss. I felt my knees get weak when I felt his tongue slide against mine, and the hard bite of metal from his lip piercing was intoxicating.
Had the shower not been steaming up the small room, I felt like I could have fogged it up on my own with how hot my skin burned. He sucked on my lower lip as he slid his hand behind my head, and my fire was lit. I slipped my arm around his waist and connected our hips, the rush of feeling that he was hard making me groan.
Dalton’s chuckle was throaty and teasing, his fingers leaving my neck to tug at my belt. I helped him get it loose before tugging at his shirt, both of us kicking our shoes off while he tried to tear away more clothing. Dalton reached back behind him and pulled his shirt over his head, somehow clearing the mohawk. It would never not be impressive.
I shucked my jeans and boxers in one go, stepping out of them just as Dalton was pushing his own jeans lower. For the first time, I was able to appreciate the lightning bolts striking his hips as he shoved his jeans down his thighs.
“Those are so sexy,” I said in a rush.
This pleased the grinning, mohawked demigod who was now naked before me for probably the fourth time. I had seen him naked so many times, but nothing was like seeing him like this. He was at full attention, erect and proud as he stepped free from his jeans. The lightning bolts were the perfect icon for my feeling at seeing him like this, a sudden bolt of desire ripped through me like a perfect damn lightning strike.
Dalton opened the glass shower door and walked into it, taking my hand as he did. I chased him under the cascading, warm shower and kissed him, pushing him back against the cool tile. Another dance of sparks raced through me when our cocks touched, the foreign feeling erotic and intimate. I gasped against his mouth and he hissed through his teeth.
“Damn, Professor. I like it when you’re bossy,” Dalton bit his lip again, leaning his head back against the tile I had him pushed against. The water and heat had made his mohawk soft enough to be malleable, so he slicked it back against his head.
I became mildly obsessed with how Dalton looked when I pushed our hips together. The rush of pleasure it sent through my body was also a driving factor, but pairing it with Dalton’s expression and sinful noises made it pretty damn addictive. I craved to give him more, wanting to impress him as much as I wanted desperately to get off.
His fingers gripped my hair as I sucked on his neck, his hips pushing against mine as I pressed against him. Dalton slipped his hand between us and wrapped it around my cock, giving it a squeeze and a slow twist. My knees gave a little at the sensation, my dick too sensitive with how revved up I was. He knew exactly what he was doing, since he snickered at my distress.
“You’re going to embarrass me,” I warned. “I’m too turned on for this to be a long shower.”
Dalton hummed, catching my hand and pressing it to his own cock. God, it was thick and painfully hard, showing me that he was just as close. It had been the first time I had felt another man’s dick in my fingers, so I took my time exploring how it felt.
“You’re going to kill me,” Dalton sobbed. “Go faster,” he added pushing his hips up as he began pumping me. I hissed at his tight grip, my free hand bracing me against the tile beside Dalton’s head as I sped up. I watched the tattoos on Dalton’s chest moving with his heavy breathing, his muscles tensing as he rode the incoming wave of pleasure.
Dalton yelled through his teeth as he climaxed, his head leaning back against the tile with his eyebrows arched up and breath sawing out of him in happy huffs. I cursed loudly, my body shuddering as pulses rippled through me. I wasn’t sure which paint job was whose by the end of it, and the hot shower was melting it away as he stood there panting.
Dalton grinned, his eyes slowly opening as he tilted his head down to catch my mouth with his. I kissed him lazily, my body melting with post orgasmic bliss and the relaxing blast of water. We stood there kissing like horny teenagers for a moment before finally deciding to actually wash up.
When we weren’t being sexual deviants in the shower, it was a little cramped. It was all elbows and waiting for the water, but I did enjoy feeling Dalton washing my back while I rinsed out my hair. I returned the favor for an excuse to look at his tattoos again.
“What’s “relic?”” I asked as I rubbed soap over the lettering.
“Reclaiming Extinct Lineage from Illegal Collectors.” Dalton tipped his head forward to rinse out his hair.
“Extinct Lineage?” I laughed. “That’s a hell of a way to say fossil. Is that the name of your team?”
Dalton turned with his back to the spray a
nd smirked at me. “I wanted to call it the Fossil Assessment and Recovery Team.”
I glared at him. “You wanted to call your team FART?”
“Would you mess with a FART?”
“I’m done with you.” I pushed the door open and grabbed for a towel, leaving him alone in the shower.
“It’s a valid question!” he yelled over the shutting door.
“Going to bed,” I yelled back. “Don’t speak to me.” The sound of his cackling could be heard through the bathroom walls.
As I stood in the room with two beds, I realized suddenly that I wasn’t sure what came next. Would it be bold of me to assume he’d want me to sleep next to him? Should I stay with my original plan and crawl into the bed I already picked?
Hearing the shower shut off, I pulled some sweats on and took a seat on my bed. I sent David some texts and checked my email while Dalton waltzed from the shower, naked and dry. His mohawk was slicked back, his tattoos on full display. It was hard to believe that painfully attractive guy just shared a shower with me.
I felt the urge to fidget or busy my hands somehow, so I checked my email again. Jesus, why was I so nervous now? We had already jerked each other off, and I was second guessing everything. Dalton yawned as he tugged his pants on and grabbed his jacket. Plucking a cigarette from its case, he placed it in his lips and stepped outside, not shutting the door all the way behind him.
I couldn’t keep sitting there, not with how tired I was growing from the trip and post-shower activities, so I opted to just sleep in my bed. There was a completely unnecessary tug of disappointment as I slipped into the stiff sheets. They were cold and smelled like industrial cleaner.
I missed the safe house. Which was weird. It wasn’t my home, but I really liked that dumb little house.
And the small bed.
I pushed the pillow into a comfortable shape, my back to the door as Dalton came back inside. I listened as he walked around the room, plugging up his phone and checking the windows before clicking the lights out. Then, he walked to the other side of my bed and crawled under the sheets, scooting across the mattress until his back was pressed against me.
I tentatively put my arm around him, which he grabbed and pulled to his chest.
He hummed happily. “You wore me out, sugar bear. Was that your first time fucking around with a guy?”
“Yeah. Was it that obvious?” I laughed, feeling nerves prickle the lining of my stomach.
“Not the shower part. But the freaked out look on your face was a dead giveaway.”
I blew out some air. “I felt like a stupid, awkward teenager again when you kissed me. Like I was all hands and hormones.”
His body shook against me as he snickered. “You’re a natural. You should have gone after dick way before me.”
“I feel like mid-thirties is a little late in the game for a sexual awakening,” I mumbled.
“Sexuality isn’t on a time scale,” Dalton said around a yawn. “Maybe you needed thirty something years to realize you liked dick. Who cares? You’ve waded into the rainbow waters. Stick around a while and enjoy yourself.”
I smirked, even though I knew I shouldn’t let myself get attached to this moment. With the sex out of my system, I understood this was a casual thing. It had to be. We were on borrowed time, with only days left.
It stung more than it should. But I pushed it away for now. Tonight, in that small, crappy motel bed, I could pretend. I dared to hold him and rest my nose into the nape of his neck. He smelled like soap and his wet hair was cool, but his body was so warm against me.
I should have realized how much trouble I was in.
Chapter Ten
Dalton
Fuck, I would give anything to be able to hunt the morning after sex.
An after sex cigarette was one thing, but a morning after shift was fucking bliss. I was soaring from the previous night’s sexcapades and wonderful sleepy cuddles afterwards. I had finally accepted that I was always meant to sleep as the little spoon, and moving forward refused to do anything but. Watching Simon come in a motel shower was a new fetish I had developed, and I decided that his mouth was the holy grail. I couldn’t get enough of kissing him, and woke him up doing so.
If I wasn’t going to be able to hunt, I’d try and get a morning hand job instead.
Turns out, Simon is not a morning guy. My offers of manhandling his dick were met with grumbled pleas for coffee and five more minutes of snoozing. I let him snooze so I could watch him sleep a little longer. He was a precious, snoring prince in the morning. He also drooled, which I tucked away for later teasing.
Since I wasn’t getting my morning hunt or handjob, I finally pulled myself out of bed and found my pants. I pushed the curtain aside enough to let some early morning sunlight filter in. This made Simon groan and cover his head with a pillow.
“Can’t sleep all morning, sunshine.” I grabbed my cigarettes and shook the packet. Only a few rattled inside, so I plucked one out and slid it behind my ear. “We need to get on the road.”
“I’m sick of being in the car,” his muffled complaints came from under the pillow.
“Well, my teleporter broke so we’re stuck with the Rodeo. Get dressed, I’ll buy you a McMuffin.”
Simon grunted something, but I couldn’t make it out over the pillow shoved over his face. I stepped outside to light my cigarette and take in the Kentucky sunrise.
Pain exploded across my left temple, sending me staggering sideways. Another blow next to the first made my ears ring, muting the noise around me as I crashed to the cold concrete. I tried to shake my head, holding my skull in confusion when a boot connected with my ribs. I coughed and hugged my torso, trying to block another kick that left me breathless.
Warm trickling rolled over my forehead, dropping red down my nose. The ringing in my ears shifted as I heard voices, yelling like they were trapped underwater. Pain radiated through my skull as I tried to blink sense back into my reality, focusing on the black boots standing in front of me.
“He wants him alive,” the muffled male voice was saying. “Don’t kill him.”
“Dalton!” Simon’s voice was sharp through the fog. I crawled towards the door, trying to get to my feet, but was met with another stabbing kick to the side. I hadn’t made it far, but I could see into the room. Simon was struggling against the grip of two men as they searched the room, his wide brown eyes searching the open door.
When he saw me, fear twisted his face before he started lashing out. He threw his body weight into one of the men, slamming a knee up into the guy’s balls while trying to throw his elbow into the other’s face. He yelled for me, reaching for me as he was jerked back by the collar.
I tried to get up, yell back or scream, but my lungs burned and head swam. The few sucker punches to my head made me dizzy, and my ribs screamed in pain. I watched in horror as Simon was backhanded to the ground then brought to his knees by some asshole gripping his hair.
Simon’s eyes were scrunched in pain, his hands grabbing the fist that gripped his hair. My anger boiled to an exploding rage as I saw blood lining Simon’s lips and a tear fall from his eye.
Blood.
Anger.
They hurt him. They hurt Simon.
Pretty Simon.
Distantly, I could hear the man standing over me start to yell in alarm, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. My muscles flexed as my bones twisted, my skin shaking and stretching as I bared my teeth. There was resistance around my hips and legs for just a moment, but I shook it off as I stood to my full height. The human was scared. Good. Be scared.
I hissed and locked my jaw around the hand holding the gun and shook, feeling the bones in his wrist and hand snap and crumble before blood rushed into my mouth.
Disgusting human blood. It tasted like over salted, foul chemicals. But I wasn’t trying to hunt or eat, I was trying to hurt and defend. He screamed and fell to the ground, the gun tossed away once I spit it out. With my attacker down, I r
ushed the room to find Simon. The men inside were screaming in hysterics, trying to aim shaking guns at me.
One of them fired a couple shots, but only hit the doorframe and window as I leapt inside. My eyes were locked on the man who had struck Simon, and I pinned him down with my foot and tore at the arm that was used against him. He tasted terrible, and his screams were loud and squealing. If only he was a pig, then I’d have a meal to go with my vengeance.
I wouldn’t kill the stupid human. Not like this. I was told by Leader Brother not to. Never kill humans like we do food. They’re not for us to eat or slaughter.
But I would make him pay.
I snapped his bones and tore his flesh, dragging him by his mangled arm across the room before tossing him outside like discarded leftovers. He wailed and screamed, his fellow bastard running out of the room as I hissed and snapped my jaws at him. The only human left intact dragged his friend to their SUV while the other injured one crawled in after them. With a squeal of tires and smoke, they fired out of the parking lot, taking out the stop sign as they fled.
I watched them go, my feathers puffed and ready for attack until I saw the last of their SUV disappear. With the threat gone, I turned back to check on Simon.
The terror across his face worried me. All the color in his face was gone, and his big brown eyes were so wide, he looked like he was falling into shock. His back was pressed against the opposite wall, having scrambled across the floor during the attack and frozen in place.
He was so scared. I carefully lowered myself to the ground and smoothed my feathers down. I didn’t want to scare him. I was good. I was friendly. To show I wasn’t a threat, I lowered my head to the carpet and watched him.
Simon was shaking, his breath shallow and quick, the smell of fear pouring off of him.
