Leo looked out at the midnight striped tree that once contained his mother’s room. He kept his arm wrapped around Marisa’s shoulders, clutching his sister tight. He’d been bracing himself for the cascade of grief to slam in, strong enough to forget how to breathe, how to function, how to live.
However, he’d cried those tears years ago, back when she’d first gone comatose. Grief gripped his chest, tangling with a sense of relief. Leo clutched Marisa a little tighter, watching the trees as the dwindling fire flickered from their charred remains. Guilt closed in on him moments later. Yet their mother had left them years ago. She was being released from this plane at last.
A dryad staggered past, stopping feet away from him and Marisa.
“Why would they do something like this?” her voice cracked, and she slowly sank to her knees.
“Because neither side is willing to compromise,” he found himself speaking, his voice carrying clear with the truth that burrowed deep into his bones. “In a war like this between hunters who want us all eradicated and our leaders who want to do the same to them—this is who suffers.”
A couple glances flickered back his way, and a few murmurs of affirmation sounded in response.
What Leo absorbed wasn’t the wreckage of the care facility, though that would remain in his mind for a long time to come. No, the surrounding community struck him, the innocent fae families now in mourning.
Neither rulers cared a whit for the lives they extinguished. Their war came first.
Maybe he couldn’t come here to stoke the fires of his rebellion any longer, but he didn’t need to. He might’ve started out doing this as revenge for his parents, but over the years this effort transformed into something greater. The murmurs fast spreading through this crowd were proof enough. The fae needed change. The hunters needed change. This sort of carnage was a sin that shouldn’t be repeated, but until he broke those chains, the cycle would continue again and again and again.
This community of fae, of hunters, of humans tired of being victimized—this reminded him of his purpose. Leo Kincaid would upheave this flawed and fucked up society or die trying.
Chapter Seventeen
Renn wasn’t the type of guy who waited for anyone.
Ever since his sister got snatched in the night, he made sure he was always the one who left first, keeping people at a distance and never letting a lover last past a single night. Even with the band, he’d kept his secrets.
However, when he’d seen the desolate look in Leo Kincaid’s eyes earlier, the promise slipped from his lips. When it came to this man, he’d begun breaking his own rules left and right.
He leaned back on the bed, taking a swig from the bottle of Jack he’d picked up along the way. The whisky burned his throat, rolling down with a heat he needed right now. The rest of the crew went downstairs, tossing back shots and looking for distractions after the scorcher of a day they’d all had. Any normal time, he’d be there with them. Yet after an hour of glancing to the lobby every five seconds to see if Leo had arrived, he just decided to wait in the room instead.
Guaranteed, every one of those assholes would have some commentary to deliver when he saw them next.
Whatever.
When the news dropped on Leo—he knew the look all too well. He’d lived that look a thousand times over. And no matter what folks might say about the strapping yaksha CEO, the man was more sensitive than he appeared. When he broke down the other night, most wouldn’t have intuited what he needed like Leo did.
The familiar click of the keycard sounded at the door.
Renn rolled up to a seated position and placed the bottle down. His entire body tensed as he braced himself for whatever version of Leo Kincaid strolled through the door. Not like he knew what to say to him. His plans hadn’t extended beyond dropping to his knees and trying to suck the man’s grief away. A-plus strategy on his part.
The door swung open.
Leo walked in the door, and the sight of him caused the breath to snag in Renn’s throat. The man cut a formidable figure with his pale green skin, broad shoulders, and the sweep of thick charcoal hair that always seemed to be in the right place. His button-down was a bit more rumpled, the tails untucked, and his golden eyes which normally lasered through anything in sight held a subdued look Renn had never witnessed before, a fatigue he felt deep in his bones.
When Leo’s gaze landed on him, he swallowed hard.
He didn’t know what he’d expected—tears, rage, some sort of extreme. However, all that radiated off him was weariness and a serenity he hadn’t anticipated.
Renn lifted the bottle of Jack. “Want some?”
Leo traced his lips with his tongue, watching him with a look bordering on awe. “I didn’t actually think you’d be waiting.”
Fuck. He was no good at this shit, and they waded into deep territory that’d be tougher to escape than quick-dry concrete. Renn let the bottle of Jack thump onto the mattress as he pushed himself up. Within seconds, he closed the distance between them. His mouth pressed to Leo’s, and he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, bringing their bodies flush together.
Leo sank into the kiss, his hands steadying at his hips even though he didn’t leap into the normal feral fight for control.
“Or I can bring the whisky to you,” Renn murmured against Leo’s mouth.
Leo offered a half smile and dragged the tip of his tongue over Renn’s bottom lip. “Thanks for the taste.” Then he made a move to pull away.
Renn wanted to kick himself. Of course Leo didn’t want his half-assed attempt at distraction right now. The man was beyond focused and didn’t hesitate to make his wants known inside the bedroom and out.
Renn let him pull away. Leo walked over to the bed and took a seat. He toed off his Clark’s and heaved out a sigh. Renn opened his mouth and then shut it again. He didn’t know what to say, so he took a seat on the bed beside Kincaid. Renn brushed his thigh against Leo’s, not expecting much of a reaction.
“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Leo murmured. “I know how uncomfortable this sort of thing is for you, and unlike you, I want to sit with this tonight, not dive into distraction.”
The out hovered there, offered by the man himself. And yet Renn couldn’t seem to move from his spot. Some buried part of himself wanted—no, needed—to stay.
“Look, I’m shit companionship. We both know that,” Renn started, digging his nails into the sheets. His gaze burned into the floor. “But I’m here. If you want.”
Leo’s hand slipped overtop his. “Yeah, I’d like that.” His voice was rough, and pain fragmented in his eyes like sections of stained glass.
Renn bit down on his lip, unsure of what to do here. His solution always veered to physical, but Leo brimmed with something more tonight, something deeper than a tangle in the sheets. With the steadying way Leo’s palm pressed overtop his, Renn refused to budge. If the man felt even half of the inferno Renn did, their connection might help keep him from spilling over the edge.
“Marisa and I were just kids when the Courts made my father a scapegoat,” Leo began, his voice resonant. Renn snuck a peek at the man who stared out the window at the city beyond, the same distance in his voice as the breadth of Boston. “They took my father, accused him of crimes he never committed, and then they murdered him. When they took him away, they beat my mother so badly they ruined her. She’d been comatose ever since.”
Renn sucked in a sharp breath. The careful regard in Leo’s voice, the way his gaze would sometimes slide back to him—he’d known the man long enough to understand he witnessed a side Leo shared with few.
“Part of me feels like a shit son for not grieving harder right now, for not collapsing to the floor and just letting all this pain loose,” Leo continued, his voice slow and level. “However, part of me also knew we lost her back then. That this was the inevitable end, and that maybe now she’ll stand a chance at peace.” A small silence followed as he seemed to collect his thoughts.
“When you’ve been alone,” he started, and his voice cracked. Kincaid’s hand pressed down on his a little harder, the grip tightening. “When you’ve been alone as long as I have, you’ll cling to any tethers you can. Most people can’t be trusted, so you rely on rituals, habits, and places you can control. Visiting my mother—that was my reminder of why I’m trying to do all of this in the first place. Why I need to continue.”
Leo’s words struck a deeper note than Renn could ever play. He hadn’t searched for tethers, instead floating in a sea of numbness for as long as it could carry him forward to the next gig, the next lay, the next distraction. Yet all he searched for was an escape from the pain, from the aching loneliness that kept him awake in his bed at night, clutching cold sheets and wishing for something more.
“Funny how it sneaks up on you,” Renn murmured. “No matter how far you run.” He sucked in a sharp breath, and the words just spilled from his lips. “Though my running’s taken me everywhere from the human realm to the Otherworld, and I still haven’t met anyone like you.”
Leo kept his steady gaze on him, the one that made him want come undone. The one that made him want to give over every excuse he’d clutched tight to for years.
Leo squeezed his hand again, and Renn’s throat tightened. Instinct alone carried him as he shifted from his seat on the bed. He looped his leg around Leo’s and took a seat in his lap, facing him. The man’s hot breath puffed against his lips, and those golden eyes ensnared him with this searching look that set his veins on fire. For a moment, the urge to bolt for the door rode through him. He was just fucking this up again. Then Leo’s hands settled around his waist, and this time, it felt right.
Renn had fucked so many people he couldn’t begin to keep tabs, but he’d never experienced anything as intimate as this in his life. He leaned in to brush his lips against Leo’s. Unlike before, he didn’t push—he tentatively explored the man’s mouth, drawing the tip of his tongue along the curves and then sliding it inside. For the first time, Leo offered over the reins, keeping his hands on Renn’s waist all while he let him taste. Each breath between them shattered in the tense air, as if they both hadn’t done this dance dozens of times before.
Truth be told, he hadn’t. Renn had fucked and fucked and fucked, but the tenderness in each motion between them couldn’t be denied, and all of that? Brand new. A wave of vulnerability washed over him. He probably messed this all up, but in the moment he wanted to offer Leo whatever solace he could. He just wanted to take the loneliness away, even if only for tonight.
He could feel the way Leo’s cock stiffened, his own length growing hard as they continued kissing. Their lips brushed together in slow, undulating caresses, as if they both tried to cling onto the connection flaring between them. Renn slid his palm along Leo’s neck, gliding his fingertips beneath the fabric of his shirt. Every time they’d come together, Leo would’ve taken over by now, whether it was gripping his hair, his nape, slamming him against the wall, and making him feel completely and utterly owned.
Tonight, the man brimmed with a raw hesitation Renn doubted not a soul from here to the Otherworld had seen. Leo Kincaid didn’t let his guard down for anyone—yet here and now, he could feel the vulnerability linger in the air. Renn continued kissing him as he brought his fingers down to the buttons of Leo’s shirt. Slowly, he removed them one by one. The nerves that rushed through Renn before remained, yet they muted in comparison to the heat blossoming between them.
Leo’s shirt hung open, exposing a glorious expanse of pale skin, defined by muscles he’d sure as hell experienced. Renn traced his fingers along the writing curved along his ribs, the delicate tattoos that marked him. He pulled back from Leo’s lips as he gripped the fabric, helping the man out of his shirt. He tossed it to the ground and then pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat. A low groan came from Leo, a sound he could fast become addicted to. He continued to kiss and suck along the man’s neck, his shoulders, and those stunning pecs.
Leo leaned back, digging his elbows into the mattress. He looked up at Renn, and the moment their eyes met, Renn’s breath snagged. His gaze flickered with a yearning strong enough to set the entire city ablaze. Like he could even hope to fight against the surge in his chest in response, the sharp twist of longing that made it difficult to think, to reason, to breathe.
Renn hadn’t said much while Leo talked. What could he say? Most words during his worst times made him want to punch people in the face. However, as he straddled Leo and their gazes refused to budge, the right words reached his lips at last.
“Let me take care of you tonight,” Renn murmured, the softness in his voice this foreign thing, like he wasn’t the one speaking.
Leo’s jaw relaxed, and the wonder in his eyes made Renn’s insides melt. Forget the dizzying swirl of an uppercut in a bar fight, this slammed into him far harder.
“You’re goddamn stunning,” Leo said as he glided his fingertips along the curve of Renn’s chin.
The feelings in his chest combusted, threatening to spill out no matter how hard he tried to restrain them.
Renn leaned down, pressing his lips over every inch of that gorgeous chest. He could feel the protruding heavy length beneath him, and each time it brushed against his, the jolt of desire scrambled his mind. Renn shifted farther down until he brought his hands to the latch of Leo’s belt. The snick echoed in the air as he tossed it to the ground and returned for the buttons. As he slid Leo’s pants down those muscular thighs, the sight of his thick cock had Renn close to panting.
He straddled Leo’s legs, glancing up to meet his eyes before he lowered his mouth to that delicious length. The musky scent, the trimmed hair surrounding his hot as fuck erection overwhelmed him. He drew the tip of his tongue along the length, circling around the head before he enclosed the cock in his mouth. Leo let out a guttural groan, and his nails dug into the sheets. Renn’s length throbbed in response, to the point of distraction.
Renn sucked on Leo’s length, enjoying the smooth glide of his cock, the feel of it in his mouth. Any other time they’d done this, Leo had fucked his face, which he more than enjoyed. But this time, each stroke down left a lingering sensation in his chest, a steady warmth that had been increasing during their time together. The way Leo surrendered to him, how his moans lit the air, how he trusted him enough to be here with him tonight—Renn might be dumb as shit sometimes, but he knew what a gift that was.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to blow, sweetheart,” Leo said, pushing up.
Renn drew back, his lips tender. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the desire amplified a thousand-fold by this once in a lifetime connection between them. He’d never experienced this depth before, and he doubt he would again. Leo Kincaid was the only soul he’d allowed past his Fort Knox walls.
Leo reached up to caress his cheek, and the simple touch just about undid him. The look in those eyes, the glimpses of vulnerability from the man who hid everything from the world—those would go with Renn to the grave.
“I want to come inside you,” Leo murmured, his voice hoarse and a little tentative.
Renn nodded, his throat tightening. The current of emotions between them was a brand-new thing, and he didn’t trust his own voice to stay steady. He slipped off his shirt and then shucked his jeans to the ground before lying back on the bed. Leo’s gaze remained on him the entire time.
Slowly, the massive man peeled himself off the bed, all hard muscles, thick arms, and even stronger legs. His cock glistened from Renn’s saliva, but Leo swung over to the nightstand and snagged a bottle of lube from the top drawer. Renn lay back on the sheets, giving his cock a slight stroke—not like it needed the encouragement. He’d been hard for Leo Kincaid from the moment they first met.
When Leo hovered over him, the tender look in his eyes caused Renn’s mouth to dry. He could feel the words he’d never say trapped there in his chest. And yet, they flared bright without his permission anyway.
Leo glided the
lube onto his cock, and Renn couldn’t help but bite his lip in anticipation. Leo had taken him against the wall, the side of the bed, from behind, and from above, but he didn’t even question they’d be facing each other tonight. Once Leo bared his soul, they hadn’t been able to look away from each other, the stolen glimpses growing longer and longer. Tonight, neither of them seemed able to hide.
Leo settled himself between Renn’s legs and nudged the tip of his slick cock against his entrance. Renn let out a hard breath, beyond ready for this gorgeous man to enter him. Leo’s knees dug into the mattress as he began pushing inside him, one painstaking inch at a time.
Like always, he was a tight fit, but Renn loved the feeling of being stretched open by him. Renn loved every second he got to spend with this man—and if he were being truthful, inside and out of the bedroom.
Renn tilted his hips up until Leo slid in the full way. The hit to his prostate caused him to blink back stars. He half-expected Leo to start riding him, to grab his wrists and slam them back the way they’d collided all of those other times. Instead, Leo pressed his palms into the mattress on either side of him, mere inches separating them. He shifted inside him at a steady pace, languid as if he wanted to remember every second of this.
Renn brought his hands to Leo’s waist, and a possessive streak shuddered through him. Leo’s sharp breaths stuttered in the air between them with each thrust, and several strands of his thick black hair drifted across his forehead. He couldn’t stop soaking in the man’s features, his prominent chin, those long eyelashes, and the faint wrinkle in his brow when he concentrated. Renn held on a little tighter.
Leo thrust inside him faster, and he closed the distance between them with a kiss. Pressed together like this, Renn prepared to combust. His skin grew so sensitized he could scream, and his thunderous pulse formed the culmination of everything that unfurled between them tonight. With every thrust, his cock brushed against Kincaid’s chest, the sensation pushing him close to overload.
Tempting Ballad Page 15
