Tempting Ballad

by Katherine McIntyre

  His nails dug into Renn’s thighs as he continued to deep throat him, the man’s significant length filling his mouth. Renn’s cries grew louder with every thrust in, and sweat beaded along his brow. Leo sucked him down, enjoying the way the man unraveled before him. His erection dug into the bed, the pulsing need growing the more Renn writhed and moaned.

  Renn’s thighs tensed, and his cock stiffened. The salty liquid hit the back of Leo’s throat a moment later, and he swallowed it down. Renn’s entire body shook in the wake of his orgasm, and a blissed out look glazed his eyes.

  Leo pushed himself up but not before biting the inside of Renn’s thigh. He couldn’t keep his teeth off of this man if he tried.

  “Holy fuck, that’s one hell of a greeting.” Renn skimmed his fingers through his hair before glancing his way. His dark gaze simmered as they locked eyes again. “But I’ve been wanting to suck your cock for months now. You wouldn’t leave me longing, would you?”

  “You’re a goddamn brat,” Leo murmured, an amused grin rising to his lips. “But I’m in a giving mood. Get on your knees, sweetheart.”

  Renn licked his lips, the air between them turning a thousand degrees hotter.

  Leo hopped off the bed to standing, his cock taking the cue. The idea of Renn’s scorching mouth around it had him close to coming. However, he planned on finishing inside that perfect ass. Renn hiked his pants back up his legs before he slipped onto his knees in front of Leo.

  Renn looked at him from down there, a perfect canvas of desire and surrender, and Leo lost any restraint. His fingers wove through Renn’s hair, and he tightened his grip again, yanking Renn’s head closer to his cock.

  A grin spread on Renn’s lips at the rough treatment, something Leo fast discovered the man liked. Renn reached up for the top button of his slacks and began fumbling, brushing against his erection in the process.

  Leo closed his eyes, the puff of his hot breath a caress. Renn pulled his zipper down with a snick that echoed through the air. The breath caught in his throat.

  The door to his suite slammed open.

  Leo reached out, but no weapons lay in reach. He flexed his fingers to try and manipulate the earth, but in this sterile environment he could barely find a potted plant to tap into.

  Marisa stood in the doorway, her shoulders heaving. Her gaze zeroed in on Renn’s position, and she whipped her head to the side. “Can’t you keep it in your pants for five seconds, Leo?” she snapped.

  Leo heaved a sigh and stepped away from Renn’s willing mouth, his cock protesting. Marisa wouldn’t burst into his room for kicks.

  Renn rolled to his feet with a smooth liquidity and buckled his belt.

  A pang of regret throbbed in Leo’s chest—they’d been close to a collision he didn’t just want—he needed. “What’s going on, Risa?” he asked, half a second away from slamming the door in her face and finishing what he and Renn started.

  Marisa looked back in their direction, her arms crossed and disapproval high on her brows. “Looks like word spread about Darren Andrews’ arrival in town and the King decided to pay his regards. Boston’s about to become a battleground, and your favorite royal is staying at this hotel. I just caught him and his entourage checking in downstairs.”

  Fuck. The last thing they needed was interference from the Seelie side. If the King happened to spot him, no doubt they’d be recruited to ‘fight the good fight’ against the hunters. And if the King caught a whiff of Leo’s meeting with a prominent Unseelie family, his plans would crumble like ancient texts to flame.

  “Damnit,” he spat, striding toward his open suitcase. “Grab Claude and head to the end of the hall. I’ll meet you out there.”

  Marisa nodded and tipped two fingers in a salute before she did an about turn and thundered out the way she came.

  Renn reached down and snagged his tote bag while Leo rushed around the room, throwing clothes and toiletries into his suitcase. If the King had already arrived, they needed to be out of here hours ago. Darren Andrews and his merry band of hunters wouldn’t pass up such delicious bait.

  The satyr strode over to the door and waited while Leo finished packing up. The tension from before changed stations—this static buzz belonged to nerves not passion. He checked under the bed and in the drawers before tugging his laden suitcase with him.

  Renn stared at the door, his gaze dark, inscrutable. “I’m shocked a revolutionary like yourself wouldn’t be leaping on this opportunity to assassinate the King.”

  “Careful,” Leo warned. “Talking all treasonous like that makes it sound like you’re flirting with rebellion.”

  Renn rolled his eyes. “Well I would be fucking with rebellion, but we’re too busy tiptoeing away in the night.”

  Leo couldn’t resist his smile as he closed the distance between them.

  Renn watched with a hungry expression he couldn’t get enough of.

  Leo gripped the satyr by the nape and crushed his mouth to Renn’s. He moaned in response, and Leo thrust his tongue deep into his mouth, claiming this gorgeous man.

  He pulled back. “I’m not finished with you,” he murmured, his voice coming out dusky with need. He reached down to grab Renn’s ass. “This is mine—at least while we’re traveling together.”

  Renn’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Cute promises, but I highly doubt you can keep up with my sex drive.”

  “I’m looking forward to proving you wrong,” Leo said, opening the suite door with an audible click. “Now, quick. Let’s disappear into the night like the outlaws we are.”

  The moment they stepped out into the hall, Leo’s skin prickled. Like this, he felt exposed knowing the Seelie King could be roaming through any of these halls. The flirting and the banter all quieted in the wake of his enemy’s presence.

  Marisa and Claude already waited for him at the end of the hall, and together, the four of them strode in a percolating silence.

  Leo took painstaking care to remain under the radar wherever he went. If he wanted to get anywhere with this rebellion, it meant his actions and presence needed to go unnoticed by the Seelie King.

  Their sharp breaths punctuated the air, a staccato rhythm that clashed with the careful tread of their footsteps.

  Leo led the way with long strides as he aimed for the stairwell—far less chance of running into the King there.

  He wound around the corner and froze.

  At the far end of the hall, a retinue of satyrs, centaurs, and baobhan sidhe surrounded a man he’d seen in far too many nightmares. The Seelie King stood in the center, one of the ancient sidhe. The man’s dark, limpid eyes, his long face, and pointed ears all exuded a nobility that didn’t reflect the man’s callous actions in the slightest. The man wore a sharp slate suit to blend, though in the Otherworld he donned silken robes made from pixie wings. The arrogance reigned clear from the tilt of his chin to the way he moved with a defined presence.

  In Leo’s memories, those features would always be twisted in cruelty, a callous disdain as he destroyed the Kincaid family.

  Leo’s throat seized, and he swept his arm out to keep the others from stepping into the hall. He inched back, sweat pricking on his temple.

  They hadn’t spotted him.

  “Let’s take the elevator instead,” Leo commanded, tilting his head back in the direction they came from. The King was already stepping into his room for the night on the same floor their rooms had been, so they could risk the elevator from here.

  Marisa nodded, though Claude shot a questioning glance to the intersecting hallway.

  Renn simply hiked the strap of his backpack around his shoulder and set to motion.

  Time to get out of here.

  Chapter Five

  Renn had already showed up to Leo’s room at fuck-all o’clock, so by the time they headed out to Cambridge and managed to book a hotel, they were a stone’s throw from sunrise. Of course, Kincaid would be too swank to tough it at a Microtel, so they ended up nabbing a last-minute reservation a
t the posh Le Meridien.

  The bright lights of the foyer glared down, and Renn scowled at them from where he sprawled out on the fancy couch. Leo paced in front of him, casting a look to the entrance every few seconds. Marisa, Kincaid’s sister, and Claude, the slick-haired suit in Kincaid’s entourage, approached from the front desk.

  “Only two rooms left,” Marisa announced, facing Kincaid. “They’re ours, but we need to divide up the space. I’ll fall on the sword and room with Claude as long as I never have to see whatever carnal shit the two of you were about to get up to.” The woman appeared as professional elite as her brother, but her sarcastic tone and the gagging sound she made to follow softened her image.

  Renn’s grin widened. “I mean, those were the sounds you were about to walk in on.”

  Marisa’s jaw dropped, and a look of horror infiltrated her features. Kincaid buried his face in his palms while Claude looked anywhere but their direction.

  Renn trailed the tip of his tongue over his teeth.

  “Let’s catch sleep while we can,” Kincaid said, taking control of the situation again. “We’ll be meeting with the Ashewarrens bright and early, and we need to be prepared.”

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Claude said, striding toward the elevator. He tipped his fingers in salute, and Marisa followed after him, her heels clicking against the marble floors.

  Kincaid stepped in front of him, looming like some carved statue of perfect male physique.

  Renn licked his lips on instinct, ready to drop to his knees here in the foyer of the fancy-as-fuck hotel. Not like he had any shame. Besides, he needed to stay in the present real bad with the way nagging doubts and lingering regrets banged at his door, begging to get in.

  Kincaid lifted an eyebrow, his mouth quirking at the side as if he could read Renn’s mind. Though Renn hoped not, because his mind was a filthy as hell place, and Leo Kincaid might scuff his Clark’s on the entrance.

  Kincaid leaned forward and stretched a hand out. “Come on, princess. Let’s get some shut-eye.”

  Renn smirked. “You have to know by now sleep’s not much of a lure.”

  Kincaid pursed his lips and retracted his hand. Those palms slipped under him before he registered the man even moved. Renn’s eyebrows drew together, but a moment later, Kincaid hefted him up and over his shoulder. With his other hand, he reached down to grab his rolling suitcase, looping Renn’s duffel bag around the handle.

  “You want to be a brat, then you get treated like one,” Kincaid responded, striding toward the elevators. Those strong arms wrapped around his torso with a force Renn couldn’t help but shiver to remember. He caught a glimpse upside-down of the clerk behind the desk staring at them jaw dropped. Amusement welled in his stomach. Looks like even without the rest of his rock stars, the antics persisted.

  “Who even needs foreplay when I’ve already got you manhandling me?” Renn drawled, glancing up from his precarious position far too close to Kincaid’s perfect ass.

  The ding of the elevator echoed, and they started moving again as Kincaid carried him inside. The moment the doors slid shut, Leo slipped him onto the ground and leaned to the side where his hand rested on his suitcase handle.

  Renn let out a small huff as he settled onto his feet again, strands of his hair drifting in front of his eyes. The elevator car surged up to the seventh floor, not stopping once at this time of night. The weariness might prickle across his skin, but it paled in comparison to the lust that surged through him after getting pressed against Leo’s rock-hard body.

  Plus, all of that was better than the hollow squeeze in his stomach when he thought about walking away from the RV hours earlier.

  The elevator settled in place, and the doors opened onto the seventh floor.

  Kincaid gestured forward with a flourish, and Renn took the lead, heading down the hall even though he didn’t have the slightest as to what room they stayed in.

  Kincaid’s hand clapped on his shoulder. “This one,” Leo said, sliding the card into the door with an audible click.

  Renn grabbed the handle and stepped in first, the lights flickering on upon entrance. This room was comprised of two beds, one small desk, and a killer view of the city, and the whole thing smelled like bleach and air fresheners. Renn sat on the edge of the bed and began toeing off his shitkickers, ready to be out of his clothes and into bed with Leo Kincaid.

  Kincaid undid the buttons of his shirt with perfunctory precision, and within minutes, the yaksha’s delicious abs were exposed, the pale green skin the sort Renn itched to reach out and bite. This man clung to control so much that Renn was dying to watch him unravel.

  “Come on now, at least let me undress you,” Renn murmured, his grin widening as he scanned Kincaid up and down.

  Those cruel lips twitched, but Kincaid didn’t respond as he reached for his belt and undid the clasp with a click that resounded through the room.

  Renn couldn’t help the shiver running down his spine or forget how the leather felt wrapped against his wrists.

  “Bed, now,” Kincaid said, the words an effortless command. Everything that came from this man’s gravel and honey voice sounded like an order, and Renn didn’t mind in the slightest.

  “Don’t know,” Renn shot back. “What are you offering?” Need thrummed through his veins, his earlier orgasm not sating him in the slightest.

  Kincaid gave him a look and unsnapped the buttons of his pants, sliding them down those muscular thighs. His boxer briefs followed, leaving the man stark naked. Renn didn’t need more encouragement. His shirt hit the ground, and he shunted his pants down his thighs like they were covered in poison.

  Leo strode over to the side of the bed and grabbed the edge of the blanket, tugging it down. In one quick motion, he slid underneath and settled onto the pillow. The arrogant bastard folded his arms behind his head and lay there watching him.

  “Coming to bed?” Kincaid asked, amusement gleaming in those golden eyes.

  Renn opened his mouth and then shut it. “You mean sleeping, don’t you?”

  Kincaid nodded. “Yeah, I do. I’m going the fuck to bed.”

  Renn’s mouth dried. He didn’t do the whole sleeping next to someone thing unless they’d just fucked. Even then, he usually jetted before sunrise. He folded his arms over his chest, the weight of Kincaid’s gaze pressing down on him. The infuriating man knew what he did, a calculating gleam clear in his eyes.

  Renn thrust his jaw out as he glanced to the other bed. He could sleep alone. The option remained there. And yet, the temptation of getting pressed against that gorgeous body had his cock lifting on its own accord. Otherworld be damned. Renn was never aces on the whole self-control thing anyway.

  He sauntered over to the opposite side of the bed, each step measured. Kincaid’s attention never left him. His stare could level the John Hancock Tower, offering enough intensity to drown in. Kincaid pushed the sheets down, his luscious cock standing at full attention. Renn’s mouth watered, but based on the level look in Kincaid’s eyes, their night wouldn’t get any more carnal than this.

  Renn slid into the bed, the scent of Kincaid’s rosewood cologne wrapping around him. Kincaid reached forward, stroked a palm over his cock, and then bit his ear. A shudder ran down Renn’s spine, and he ground himself against Kincaid’s grasp. He didn’t give a damn if he’d already come earlier in the night—he was ready for round two.

  “Hope you have dirty dreams about me,” Kincaid murmured. “See you in the morning.”

  Just as fast, he removed his hands and teeth and then switched the light off. Kincaid slipped under the blankets, rested his head on the pillow, and closed his eyes.

  Renn flipped to face him, the man’s hands not all over his body like they should’ve been. “You’re a fucking sadist,” he muttered, running a hand through his tangled strands. His cock grew so hard he could knock someone out with it.

  “Only for you, gorgeous,” Kincaid shot back, his lips lifting in a grin even though his
eyes remained shut.

  Renn swallowed hard as he flipped away from Kincaid. Something about this caused his skin to prickle—it felt way more intimate than sticking his dick in someone. He shifted at least five times before Kincaid’s hand settled on his side. The weight of it caused Renn to still, for once the thump-thump-thump inside him leveling out. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath.

  Ditching the band and running off with the rebel he’d slept with had been enough of a shake-up today, let alone adding the terror of sharing a bed with someone. Like this, his mind drifted untethered to all sorts of uncomfortable places, tiptoeing into territory where horrible things like emotions lay.

  Yet with the weight of Kincaid’s hand on his waist, the furnace heat of his body, and the delicious scent of rosewood and bourbon surrounding him, Renn couldn’t find the willpower to move away. His breaths began to even, and far too fast, the leaden weight of sleep stole him away.

  ****

  “Wake up,” a deep bass voice came from above him.

  Renn’s nose crinkled as he reached forward, expecting the normal splitting hangover from tipping back too much the night before. Instead, his stomach squeezed with the pinch of not enough sleep. Sun streamed through the windows, and he blinked for a minute or two before his eyes adjusted.

  Kincaid hovered above, dressed in black slacks and a white button-down that looked too natural on him. He also looked far too awake for this early in the morning.

  “Why the hell are you even conscious right now?” Renn moaned, shoving off the blankets as he sat up. Late nights and late mornings were prereqs for a touring lifestyle, and he and the guys excelled at them.

  “We’re meeting with the Ashewarrens bright and early,” Kincaid said, strolling over to the mirror as he pinched his collar and began looping his tie through. “Hence why we went to bed instead of fucking each other senseless last night.”