by Harper, Lou
Not wanting to seem rude, Denton raised a hand and wiggled his fingers. "Hello there."
The spirit made a few more gestures before diving into the mirror. The glass cracked with a sharp ping and the spirit was gone.
Bran stepped forward. "You give a whole new meaning to food porn."
Denton leaned back to get a better view of Bran, but ended up flopping onto his back. It didn't trouble him at all. "Did you say porn?"
With an exasperated sigh, Bran shook his head and stepped past. Denton could hear Bran canting something in Spanish, and then trying to rouse Lenny, and Lenny's sleepy resistance, but he was too busy to studying the intricate patterns of the plain white ceiling to look. When he could tear his eyes away and tilted his head, he saw Bran steering Lenny toward the couch. "Whatcha doin?" Denton asked.
"I figured, I'd let him sleep it off."
"Put the throw under him," Denton warned.
"Good point. Wouldn't want him to drool on the leather."
It wasn't the drool Denton was concerned about. He'd fondled the couch and remembered how it felt. Bran looming over him ended his happy recollections. "Hey," he said happily.
"Hey, you," Bran said and offered a hand.
Denton let Bran pull him to his feet, but then all he could do was to stare at Bran's chest. Bran had one of those bodies Denton could only dream of—and he had, numerous times—and Bran didn't even go to the gym. It's unfair, he thought. Out loud, apparently.
"What is?" Bran asked.
"That you're so hot. So many ways," he added because Bran also radiated heat like an oven. Bran was a sun complete with a gravitational pull Denton couldn't resist. He dug his hands under Bran's shirt. The sensation of velvety skin stretching over firm muscles flooded every nerve ending in his palm. He pushed the shirt up higher, as high as he could, so he could rub his face to Bran's chest. "Mmm…definitely better than the sofa."
Bran chuckled. "Thank you." He took Denton's face in both hands, leaned forward, and kissed Denton on the lips. He had lush lips and a tongue made for sin.
Denton had always loved kissing Bran, and now he wondered why they'd ever stopped. He decided to stay like this, lip-locked till they both dropped dead. On second thought, it didn't seem like such a brilliant idea. There was a sense of urgency growing within Denton's pants, in the general area of his groin. Shoving a hand inside, he found his dick painfully hard and trapped by denim. Unacceptable. Denton unzipped and began to wiggle out of his jeans.
Bran pulled back. "Bedroom?"
"Too far," Denton protested. He was ready to get down and dirty right there on the living room carpet, with Lenny snoring on the couch. He pushed Bran's shirt up again and kept pulling and tugging till the damn thing was clear off. He reached for Bran's belt but Bran skipped out of his grasp.
"You'll like the bed, I promise." Bran kept backing toward the bedroom, luring Denton after him.
This reminded Denton of something but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Denton nearly fell on his face, thanks to his pants bunched around his ankles, so he stopped for a second to kick them off. When he looked up he saw Bran at the edge of the bed, as smoldering hot as a man had no right to be. With a growl Denton pounced and they landed on the mattress with Denton on top.
"Oof! Slow down, Tiger," Bran said.
Denton had no intention of doing any such thing. He slithered down Bran's thighs to undo the belt and zipper of those blasted jeans standing in his way. A second later he was pulling Brans heavy scent into his lungs through nose and mouth. Like a knife through butter the comprehension of what he wanted cut through the fog of his mind. "You need to fuck me right now," he announced, hopping to the floor and yanking Bran's jeans and jockstrap down in one swift motion.
"What, no foreplay?" Bran asked.
Denton shook his head. "Can't. My balls will explode. What are you doing?" he demanded to know as Bran twisted and turned toward the night table.
"Lube."
"Yeah, okay, I guess." Denton said and hopped back onto the bed, straddling Bran. Denton got his fingers slick from the offered tube, reached back, and prepared himself while Bran fitted a rubber over his cock. He rubbed the rest of the oil onto Bran's shaft and set out to lower himself on it.
"Are you sure that's enough?" Bran asked with concern on his face.
"I want to feel you." Denton replied. And oh boy, he did.
Bran had a solid cock to match a solid body, and now as it intruded into his body, Denton truly felt the burn. Electric sparks raced up his spine with every new inch and goosebumps spread over his body. He kept going till Bran's cock was fully inside him. He stopped and took a deep breath.
"Are you all right?" Bran asked. He'd stayed perfectly still, letting Denton take charge, but laid his hands on Denton's thighs.
"Ugh, good, so very good," Denton replied and began to move, slow at first, savoring the jolts of pleasure the friction of their bodies created. Bran reached for Denton's cock, but Denton pushed Bran's hand away. "No. Too much." He knew a touch to his cock would make him go off in an instance. He didn't protest, however, when Bran lifted a hand to his chest and began to tweak Denton's nipple ring.
Denton rode Bran with an increasing urgency till the sensation became too much, threatening to burn him up. He brushed his fingers against his cock, and came in a flood of euphoria and jizz. He was barely aware of Bran gripping his hips and thrusting up hard a few times before groaning and then going lax.
Suddenly boneless, Denton let Bran's cock slip out and collapsed onto the bed. The mattress shifted and he felt soft cotton dab at his chest and stomach, but he didn't even have the energy to open his eyes.
***
Denton realized he'd dozed off when a heavy weight sitting on his chest woke him. He cracked his eyes open and saw Murry staring. "Whassup, cat?" he asked groggily.
"Murry wanted to know if you were all right," Bran explained.
"I'm good. How long was I out?"
"Long enough. It's next year. You missed the fireworks."
Murry yawned and hopped off Denton's chest. Denton took the opportunity to scoot closer to Bran and use Bran's bicep as a pillow. "But not the excitement. What did I tell you? Never a boring moment around you."
"I can't take full credit for the evening," Bran replied.
"Is Lenny still here?"
"Nah. He woke a couple of hours ago, and I managed to send him home. Fortunately, he was still too fuzzy to wonder how he got here. How are you feeling?"
"Gloriously debauched." Denton felt a bone-deep tiredness of the good kind, but his head was clear and the world around him had stopped shimmering. "I was under a spell, wasn't I?"
"A charm," Bran agreed.
"So Edmond had the last laugh, after all. Roofied by a demon."
"Demonic spirit. And nothing so crude. The charm worked by enhancing your senses and your natural urges. I've always known you were a tactile person. The spirit might have done it either as a prank or as a gift. Hard to tell. Either way, the charm was mostly harmless, and would've dissipated eventually, but helping you uhm…work it out of your system, sped up the process."
"The sacrifices you do for me. Really." Denton said, chuckling.
Bran rubbed the tips of his fingers over Denton's skin. "I know. This is nice," he added without going into an explanation.
Denton knew what Bran meant. This, lying in each other's arms was the best possible ending for a hectic year. Even with the last moment pandemonium. Denton quickly replayed the night's events in his head till he came to a niggling detail. "Hey, there was something Edmond said, what was it… Silencio?"
"Salientia." Bran corrected him. "It's Latin for tailless amphibians. Frogs and toads."
"Weird. Maybe it means something different in Demonic."
"Maybe. I'll have to research it. Want to get up? It's almost dawn. Have an early start on the new year?"
Denton pulled the blanket tighter around them. "No way. The new year can wait."
M
ore Stories about Denton and Bran
Dead Man and the Restless Spirits
Dying sucks hairy monkey balls, even when you're not the stiff.
Denton Mills has a secret: he can see dead people. Or rather, how they died. It's quite a drag in a city like Chicago, teeming with the echoes of the no-longer living. Rather than whine about it, Denton has learned to live with his troublesome talent. His adaptability comes in handy when he meets his enigmatic new neighbor.
Bran Maurell catches Denton's eye right away, but unfortunately Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious is as standoffish as he is alluring. However, after an unexpected introduction from Bran's cat brings the two men together, Denton discovers they have a mutual interest in the spirit world. Herbalist by day, Bran moonlights as a witch, performing house cleansing for a fee.
From Bran, Denton learns that his knack for interacting with the dead qualifies him as a necromancer. It makes good business sense for them to team up and rid Chicago of its pesky spirits one grateful client at a time. Amongst ghostly adventures the attraction between the men is impossible to ignore. They seem like perfect partners—unless Bran's not-so-little secret comes between them.
Warning: men loving men, ghosts with attitudes, and a portly feline with hidden talents.
See details for this book
***
About the Author
Under a prickly, cynical surface Lou Harper is an incorrigible romantic. Her love affair with the written word started at a tender age. There was never a time when stories weren't romping around in her head. She is currently embroiled in a ruinous romance with adjectives. In her free time Lou stalks deviant words and feral narratives.
Lou's favorite animal is the hedgehog. She likes nature, books, movies, photography, and good food. She has a temper and mood swings.
Lou has misspent most of her life in parts of Europe and the US, but is now firmly settled in Los Angeles and worships the sun. However, she thinks the ocean smells funny. Lou is a loner, a misfit, and a happy drunk.
Web site: http://louharper.com
Blog: http://louharper.blogspot.com
