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Tempting Ballad

Page 18

by Katherine McIntyre


  “God, I love the way you fuck me,” Renn said, his breaths coming out staccato.

  Leo rammed into him again and again and again.

  Leo’s heart thudded hard, the steady tattoo a reminder of the dwindling time they had left. He wanted to stay here in this moment, in the dingy back alley of a beaten-down bar with the scent of moldering leaves and ozone threading through the air. He wanted to stay here in the bitter cold of the moonlight, of the stars, of the night air. He wanted to stay here with Renn.

  Heat permeated the air between them, an intense sort neither of them could deny. This wasn’t just some casual fling, no matter how much they’d both tried to pass it off as one. He loved waking up with Renn curled around him, the way the man took up far too much space. He loved the snarky comments, the perpetual sass, even if it grew infuriating when Renn used those same things to play the avoidance game. He loved the quick glances to check in, the physical way Renn announced his presence.

  He’d fallen hard.

  The pressure built and built and built until he could explode, and still, Leo continued to ram into the man as if he chased after something he’d never be able to catch. Sweat beaded on his forehead, droplets slithering down his neck, his back. His grip tightened along Renn’s hips hard enough to bruise, but the satyr thrust back, his moans the most intoxicating melody Leo had ever heard.

  The pressure mounted until his head was pounding, his heart thumping, and all he could see was the man before him. He brought one hand around to Renn’s cock and gave it a few quick strokes. Renn’s ass clenched tighter around him in response, and that sent him spilling over. The orgasm overrode his mind, cleansing him of all worry, all fear. Bliss saturated through him with such intensity his breath caught in his throat.

  Renn’s cock throbbed in his hand, and a moment later the satyr let out a deep exhale, sagging forward. Leo kept his grip steady on the man’s hips, holding him as he came. Slowly, he came down to the pavement again as the night’s chill permeated past their hazy bubble. His cock softened inside Renn, so Leo pulled out slow and easy. He zipped his pants into place and straightened up.

  Renn splayed his palms against the wall, his breaths heaving. Finally, he pushed up and hiked his jeans back up his thighs. He turned to face Kincaid, still leaning against the wall as if he couldn’t quite hold himself upright.

  “How did you know dirty back alley fucks were my favorite?” Renn asked, delight in his voice and his eyes dancing.

  “Let’s be honest, sweetheart,” Leo murmured. “You’d take it in the alley, in my bed, or in the middle of a show if I gave the command.”

  Renn fanned himself, his grin growing wider. “Keep talking like that and I’ll be ready to go again.”

  Leo pressed in against him again, this time bringing his lips to the side of Renn’s neck in a soft kiss. “You’re relentless,” he said, brushing his lips against Renn’s neck once more. Leo brought his mouth to Renn’s in a lingering kiss, sweeter than any they’d shared before. It was hesitant and slow, unpracticed and vulnerable.

  When Leo pulled away, the look in Renn’s eyes stopped him still. The vulnerability, the depth there, struck him to the core. The idea that this might be the last night devastated him. Leo trailed his fingers along the side of Renn’s face, drinking in his features. He wanted to say more. He needed to say more.

  “Hey, you like me relentless,” Renn said, attempting a teasing note in his voice that fell heavy.

  “Yeah, I do,” Leo murmured, unable to look away. “I like you a damn lot.”

  Renn’s eyes widened, and Leo realized what he’d admitted. Heat flushed to his cheeks, but he didn’t budge. He’d been circling around this truth for far too long, the words frozen on his tongue so many times before. Whether it was the sparks between them the first time they met, or the conviction in Renn’s eyes when he spoke about finding his sister—somewhere along the way he’d fallen for him. Leo couldn’t regret speaking from his heart just this once, even if everything between them crumbled to dust.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll find some other hot piece of ass to trot around once I’m back to the RV life,” Renn said. “Gorgeous fucker like you probably has a harem.” His tone came out sarcastic and a little forced.

  Leo’s chest coiled tight, bile rising in his throat. All of the time they’d spent together, and Renn still clung to the same deflections.

  Even as Renn tried to backtrack himself out, the flicker of remorse in his eyes damned him. If anything, that hurt worse. If he didn’t feel the same way, if the entire connection had just been a farce, fine. But Renn’s truth always shone through in hesitant glimpses, and he’d rather keep lying to himself and holding people at a distance instead of letting them in. Instead of letting him in.

  He took a single breath to pull himself together, even though Renn’s comment struck like a dull shiv. Even if the satyr remained stuck in the throes of his past, Leo had spoken the words he’d restrained for far too long. He couldn’t regret that, even if it hurt thinking of waking up alone in his bed. Of never getting to hear the man’s snarky responses again, or the soft pitch of his voice those rare times when he dropped the act.

  Leo ached with a pain he’d never rid himself of—like every time he loved and lost, he’d just learn to carry it.

  “Well, you gave me an unforgettable few weeks, sweetheart,” Leo forced out, his voice thick. If he stayed here, he’d break. Already, he could feel the tremors rising up his legs, threatening to send him to his knees. Heat pricked his eyes, but he’d be damned if he’d show any more weakness tonight. He clapped a hand on Renn’s shoulder before pushing away from him. “See you back at the hotel. I’m calling it an early night.”

  Leo turned on his heel and strode away. The moonlight cast careless silver beams on the ground, and the dry leaves rustled across the pavement, but no footsteps followed.

  Leo brought his jacket in a little tighter to ward off the chill, but those icy breezes slithered in regardless.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Renn didn’t pause to reflect on much, but he’d be lying if the look in Leo’s eyes when he’d brushed him off last night hadn’t haunted him ever since. He’d always stayed out of messy situations involving feelings, but these swept in with a Cat-5 hurricane force, and he hadn’t stood a chance at avoiding them.

  Leo had been cordial with him since then, flirty and still physically affectionate. However, any time their gazes met, Leo swept his away instead of lingering. And Renn couldn’t forget how the light in his eyes extinguished the moment he’d brushed him off. Fuck, he was such a monster.

  And fuck, he didn’t have the time to focus on an existential crisis right now.

  The car zoomed along, Ky taking the wheel on the rental they were arriving to the Harrods’ fancy soiree in. Leo drove the other car, and the plan was for them to enter separately. Not like he could blame the man—they tended to draw attention everywhere they went.

  He unclenched his jaw again, forcing himself to breathe. And somewhere inside there, Belle might be waiting for him. His brain refused to process the fact, mostly because the opposite could be true—she might have died a long time ago. Renn fidgeted with the pressed collar of the fancy tux he wore. Not his style at all. In fact, he wanted to tear the starched obstruction off and run screaming.

  Not like he could push out the sight of Leo in his. The man wore suits like he was born into them.

  An elbow jabbed into his side. “What’s with all the broody quiet?” Trev asked. “That’s my job.”

  Renn braced himself for the boyfriend comment incoming—after all the shit he’d given Trev for hooking up with Danica, he’d earned the jabs. However, this time the comment stung, because he’d pushed Leo away, ruining whatever chance he might’ve had.

  Trev nudged knees with him, a little gentler this time. “Whatever’s going on in your head, man—you don’t need to share it, trust me I know you well enough—but we’re here. We’re with you tonight.”

 
Renn swallowed hard. Damn these sentimental fuckers.

  “I’m going to need to disinfect the car after that statement. The massive case of feelings seems to be catching, and I don’t want to contract that plague,” Jett said from the opposite side of the backseat.

  “You’re telling me,” Renn joined in, eager for a distraction. “I should’ve had a threesome if not a full orgy to prep for today.” His guilty heart thudded harder. All he’d needed was the desperate, intense round he’d shared with Leo last night—the man sated him in a way no one else could.

  “Gross,” Liz called from the front. “Keep your orgies out of the RV, Renn.” The car swerved as they whipped around bendy roads. These headed out of the city toward the sprawling lawns of the richer neighborhoods where manicured lawns reigned king.

  “Ky, you’ve driven before, right?” Jett called up front. “I don’t get carsick, but damn, man, I might.”

  Renn snorted, shifting his gaze to the window. The car smelled like cleaner and starched fabric from the tuxes they all donned. He thought he caught a faint citrus fragrance from whatever perfume Liz wore. She’d decided to accompany them instead of ducking off on whatever task Leo had assigned Team Hunter to. Danica rode in the other car with Leo, Marisa, and Claude, the sulky selkie. He’d be overjoyed when Leo told him the news that he was free of attachments again.

  In the distance, a sprawling manor stretched out, dominating the landscape. Even with the other surrounding well-built houses, he didn’t doubt for a moment that this was the Harrods’ estate—not only from the ostentatiousness of the design, but also due to the fact the spotlights splayed onto the rolling green lawns and every room lit up, the subtle glow offsetting the firm lines of the structure.

  What looked like turrets rose on the sides of the mansion, and a pristine, chalk-white walkway rolled all the way up to the front door, surrounded by an intricate carved arch. The house was shades of cream and slate, accented by the gentle lights from inside and the sharp ones out. However, Renn knew his kind well enough to know the inside would be different from the exterior. Inside, they’d let their fae flag fly.

  Ky drove up to where the line of cars began, boggan valets driving them off while the guests entered. He screeched to a halt. “What’re the odds of getting out of here alive if I start a fistfight?” he asked, his nose wrinkling as he scanned over the guests. Everyone from dryads to goblins were all dressed in their finest and ready to fake laughs and nosh on weird delicacies.

  “Here’s a novel concept,” Jett drawled. “Don’t.”

  “Depends on what sort of shit we see there,” Renn muttered. “I might be willing to crack a few skulls.”

  The car grew silent. Terror gripped him by the chest, not for the fight ahead of them, but because he didn’t know what to expect with Belle. Part of him, the small, small part of him that clung onto hope all of these years still held those candles burning. But every reasonable, logical part of him said she’d died long ago. She couldn’t have survived years of … whatever they did to extract fae DNA into their designer drugs.

  “You know what’s fucking insane?” Liz said from the front seat, her voice filled with a wry sort of amusement. “You guys with all of your outsider rebel nonsense and me with mine—somehow we got thrust into the center of this shit. But after everything we’ve seen, all the horrible things both sides are doing, I can’t say I regret getting involved.”

  “Does this mean we need to get new business cards?” Trevor asked. “Chaos with a side of music?”

  “It means if we survive the night, our fight isn’t going to just end here,” Ky murmured, a rare reflective note in his tone. “It means that until the revolution we inadvertently set into motion has unfolded, we’re in the thick of this mess. And I don’t regret a second either.”

  Renn shook his head. “You fuckers are all crazy.”

  “Yet you’ve stuck with us anyway,” Ky reminded him, putting the car in park. Renn’s chest tightened. Ky glanced back to him, understanding in those eyes. “All right, come on, kids. Let’s kick off this suicide pact.”

  Renn rolled his eyes, but he grinned as he cracked the door open and hopped out. They took steps away from the car while Ky handed the keys over, and another familiar car pulled behind them. Within seconds, Leo and the others poured out of their ride, and the handsome yaksha strode his way over.

  The hues of the spotlight highlighted the sharp angles of Leo Kincaid, the deep flames that burned in his eyes, the noble nose, and the wide jawline. In his expertly tailored tux, the man looked delicious. No amount of clothing could disguise the fact Leo was built like a brick shithouse. He noticed that while Leo offered a charming grin, he looked away from Renn’s gaze fast.

  They had a job to do. No time to indulge in his regrets any longer.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Renn cracked, stepping to Leo’s side and walking in line with him. Together, they wound their way up the chalk-white path leading to the entrance. Fae of all sorts mingled around the front, though most stepped inside once they arrived.

  “Renn Cantrell in a suit?” Leo responded, the level sarcasm in his tone like it had been when they first met. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  Renn shrugged, a wave of discomfort washing over him—not just from the suit. “Not my style in the slightest. If I had my way, I’d strip this thing off and walk in naked.”

  Leo scanned over him, his lips curling in a smile. “Don’t know. You look damn fine in a tux.” Even though Renn could hear the desire in his voice, the yearning didn’t bleed through like before. The current between them had dried up, and he was to blame.

  They reached the looming obsidian door.

  Leo reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Stay safe,” he mouthed.

  Renn nodded, the nerves beginning to rise like the opening strains of a song. “You too.”

  At that, Leo opened the door.

  Sound rushed into him like the roar of the tide, of laughter, polite conversation, cheers and shouts from the rowdier folks, and the sweet strains of violin that filtered to the rafters of this place. The coppery scent of blood drifted through the room from bone fountains spilling over with the crimson liquid.

  Chandeliers hung from the ceilings, a mixture of lights that glowed like fire, elegant polished obsidian, and different sorts of horns—clearly, trophies. Renn resisted the urge to touch his own, just to make sure they were still attached to his head.

  Buffet tables lined the far walls on either side of this massive open space, filled with everything from delicate canapes to haunches of indistinguishable raw meat for any appetite. The Seelie Court functions held a different flair—not only did it grow clear they stepped into an Unseelie dominant ball but a redcap home as well.

  Leo strode past him without another glance back, and Renn steeled his spine as he watched Claude and Marisa slink in line.

  Jett and Ky stepped beside him.

  “It’s like they’re trying to dickstamp you in the face with their lineage,” Ky muttered under his breath.

  “Well, they are redcaps,” Jett responded, slipping his hands into his pockets.

  Trevor and Danica had already pushed ahead of them, navigating through the crowd with ease.

  Liz bumped up behind them. “Come on, kids. Stop gawking.”

  On the opposite end of the massive room, an elegant staircase curved up the back wall on either side. Doors lined the walls of the room, but Renn’s gaze zeroed in on the one beneath the staircase to the left. From the approximations Leo had come up with, that was the avenue to the lower levels. He doubted the Harrods would parade the source of their drugs out in the open.

  “We’ve got to get there,” Jett murmured by his side, tilting his head in the same direction. Liz and Ky took the cue, beginning the same cut and weave dance through the crowd that Trevor and Danica embarked upon. Renn’s mind reeled. Their usual tricks of distraction wouldn’t work here—no hunters to call in since Leo had Natalia’s crew busy with some
other cog in his machine for this plan to succeed. He’d been close-lipped on the subject, so Renn hadn’t pushed.

  He hadn’t been lying. He trusted Leo.

  The farther in they strode, the more he grew aware of all of the different fae surrounding them, pooka, hobgoblins, other yaksha. Gazes slid past him in a way he wasn’t used to—blending in had never been a pastime of his. Most times when Discord’s Desire arrived anywhere apart from a rock show, folks gawked.

  They needed to be invisible now though. Trevor and Danica headed toward the side wall nearest to a glowing fireplace made from old bones. A few other guests lingered around the hearth, and Danica launched into action, all flashy smiles and conversation. Liz and Ky took the other avenue of strolling to the far wall to begin a steamy makeout session—because of course they would.

  “You and I should find a lovely lady in the general vicinity of the staircase,” Jett murmured with an amused smile.

  Renn nodded, flashing a grin as he scanned the few individuals lingering near the door they needed to enter. They strode in the direction of a shapely water nymph who seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.

  As they approached her, the obvious security made itself known, a massive redcap emerging from one of the side doors. The man had the form of a bodybuilder with sharp teeth he didn’t disguise and even sharper claws. Another redcap carved through the crowd, heading in their direction as well. Renn could feel the man’s glowering gaze settle on him, but he didn’t dare make eye contact.

  “What brought you here?” Jett spoke up the moment they reached the nymph.

  The woman passed him a heavy-lidded look of disdain, unimpressed by the interruption. “An invitation,” she responded, her tone sharp. She didn’t bother acknowledging them further and simply strode away in a different direction. Renn caught the redcaps in his peripheral marching closer and closer to them.

  The idea struck him at once.

  Fuck ignoring the danger—that never served him well. Renn tapped Jett on the shoulder. “Follow my lead.”

 

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