by AJ Sherwood
“Well of course, mon cher,” he purred at me. “So shower quick.”
I swear in the course of my life, I’d never showered quicker. I was in and out in three minutes flat, barely dry and in loose shorts as I came out. Mack had straightened out the bed sheets while I was in there, and he gave me an approving nod as I exited the bathroom.
“Good. Now, strip those clothes back off and get in the middle of the bed.”
I eyed Mack sideways. “You want me to get naked and sit in the middle of the bed. How is this part of the bonding experience? Because I’m fairly sure the siblings who bond with each other don’t do this.”
He lifted his chin in an extravagant way, haughty, but his dancing brown eyes gave the game away. “Bonding is an intensely personal experience and varies wildly from pair to pair. And I like you naked. Hop to it.”
“Sir, yes sir,” I answered with a smart salute. My cute medium apparently had a plan. I was game for it even if I didn’t understand what he intended to do with us both naked. Donovan had told me about his bonding to Jon, and they hadn’t even realized the bond had rooted itself. I didn’t think this would take anything elaborate. Still, I was far from the expert in the room.
I stripped, not a bit self-conscious. Mack lined the door and window with rock salt, I assumed to make sure we had absolutely no interruptions. Climbing into the middle of the bed, I got comfortable, my legs stretched out in front of me.
Once Mack was satisfied, he took off his boxers and strode toward the bed. I always enjoyed the view when he walked around in front of me like this. Mack was a little self-conscious about his stomach, as his abs hid under a few layers of padding. He made comments sometimes about wishing he could avoid cheese better, and perhaps going to the gym, but the truth was I liked him this way. Soft and cuddly.
Mack climbed up, right into my lap and straddled my thighs. He arranged it so his legs were half wrapped around my hips, the two of us facing each other. My arms automatically folded around him to hold him in place and I stole a kiss, which he returned.
“Don’t distract me,” he scolded, the frown ruined by the smile threatening to take over. “Now, sync your breathing with mine.”
I held my breath for a second to do that, then fell in a rhythm with him. Mack coaxed my head down so our foreheads touched and I sat there, breathing with him, feeling the solid heat of him in my arms. It was incredibly intimate. We should definitely do this more often.
It distracted me from asking what he would do next. How did a medium bond, anyway?
“Oh,” he murmured, lips curling up in a pleased way. “Oh, that is nice. I feel you.”
“Really?” I didn’t feel a damn thing. Other than horny. He’d done something already?
“Yes. You’re very distinct to me now.” Mack lifted his head and peered at me thoughtfully. “Interesting. You look clearer too.”
I didn’t think he was talking about the need for glasses. “Clear how?”
“It’s like you’re…brighter? More solid? I don’t know how to describe the difference. I see you with much more clarity than before.” This delighted Mack. He was smugger than the Cheshire Cat. “Beau said it would be like this once we bonded. It’s lovely. We should have done this so much sooner.”
“Agreed.” I would have, if I’d even suspected he’d go for it. But I had a feeling coming down here had been necessary for him to sort out his feelings enough to trust what he felt for me. I just had one pet peeve. “I really can’t feel you in return, though. Dammit.”
“Did you expect to?” he asked, amused.
“Well, no.” I’d been told by several people it wouldn’t happen. Didn’t mean I didn’t wish for it.
“But you wanted to,” Mack said knowingly. “It’s alright, ma moitié. You’ve got radar for me anyway, it’s not like you need it.”
I snorted, as I didn’t have radar. I just kept an eye and ear trained on him at all times. “What does that mean? You’ve called me that twice now.”
“My other half,” he translated with a crooked smile. “Now. Ready for stage two of my grand plan?”
“Sex?” I asked hopefully. The nakedness had to be for a reason.
“Certainly, mon cher. But my thought was this. We have a bed, privacy, and time. Do you want to try bottoming?”
So he was just going for a morning of firsts all around. I was game for it, if a little nervous. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d like this, even though I’d played around a bit with both fingers and a dildo, trying it out. It had felt nice, but odd. I didn’t want a good morning to go in a bad direction.
Some of this trepidation must have shown on my face as he said, “We’ll try in stages. If at any point, it doesn’t sit well with you, it’s fine. We’ll just switch. You’re always welcome to take me.”
“Yeah, okay.” I blew out a breath, trying to dismiss my nerves. “Let’s try.”
Mack kissed me, sweet and gentle. I could feel the distant stirring of passion lifting its head, but this morning wasn’t really about that. It was about connection, about a new level of intimacy we’d started. I think he was also anxious to make this good for me, and I appreciated the effort.
The kiss deepened as we explored each other’s mouths. My hands roved over his back and hips, tracing along smooth skin I knew very well. We took our time this morning, lingering over places we knew the other enjoyed being touched.
Mack shifted off my lap, coaxing me onto my hands and knees, and I went. I folded my arms, head touching the mattress, getting comfortable. Nerves still skittered, but most of me lit up with anticipation. I heard more than saw him pull condoms and a tube of lube closer. He’d set them on the nightstand at some point. Then his hands were back on my ass, massaging and gently pulling the cheeks apart. I tensed up instinctively, then scolded myself mentally for it. I knew better than that. It would make things harder if I didn’t relax.
The hot puff of air was the only warning I had before his tongue found my entrance and gave it a good swipe. Startled, I clenched my hands into the sheets. That felt potentially nice. It was there and gone so quick—his tongue came again, lingering, tracing, and a shudder of pleasure shot up my spine, surprising me. Fuck, that felt good. I didn’t expect it to feel that good.
“Have to rim you more often,” I gasped out, nerves alight from what he was doing to me. “God, I had no idea it felt this good.”
Mack chuckled but didn’t respond. His tongue jabbed into me, fucking me. Shivers of pleasure shot up my spine, and I trembled a little under it. Seriously, this felt far too amazing. Even if I found out later I didn’t like being fucked, I’d still ask him to do this to me again.
He pulled back, and I nearly whined in protest. I was not ready for him to stop. Maybe next year sometime.
The cap popped, and I had an idea of what he would do next. I bit my tongue to still the protest, waiting to see what his fingers would feel like. Mack had these lovely pianist fingers, slim and long. The first one entered and stroked, and that wasn’t bad. Kinda felt nice. Still a little odd, but I liked it.
When Mack didn’t get any sort of protest, he pushed a second one in, and while it burned, I’d expected it. It still only felt nice. I wasn’t sure why people were so fixated on anal sex or why Mack enjoyed it so much. The penetration wasn’t doing much for me.
Then he crooked those fingers, and on the next thrust in, my whole body spasmed in pleasure as he stroked over my prostate. I literally saw stars for a second. I made a sound I swear I hadn’t made before, vibrating under his hands.
“Oh, you do like it,” Mack purred, sounding entirely too smug. “Want a third finger, mon cher?”
I nodded frantically, words beyond me. The third finger burned too, but I was past caring. Mack stroked my prostate like he was playing a musical instrument. I wanted nothing more than for him to keep doing it, but I was also hard as a rock and aching. I had to put a hand to myself, stroking a little just to get some relief.
The crackle of the condom wrapper made a dim i
mpression on me. The removal of Mack’s fingers was more my immediate concern. Was he—?
Mack’s hands grabbed my thighs, pulling me out a little and down, and I realized even kneeling, we didn’t line up right. Came with having long legs. I adjusted down, tilting my torso so it lay almost flat against the bed, and that apparently gave him the right angle. I felt the blunt tip of his dick touch me and stay there.
“Still okay?”
I turned my head so I wasn’t speaking into the mattress. “Come on.”
With a grunt, he pushed in about an inch. Okay, that burned more than I’d expected, but my body was still wild with need. I pushed back into him, urging him silently on. He sank in slowly with a sigh, as if he was just as relieved to be moving. He’d used a lot of lube, I could feel that, as he slid in smoothly. Mack gave us both a few seconds to adjust, then he pulled back, thrusting again with a bit more force. He didn’t hit the sweet spot, but I could feel him adjust, searching for the right angle.
On the third thrust he found it. I threw my head back, eyes slipping closed so I could focus on just the sensation of him fucking into me. My hips moved of their own accord, my body craving that amazing pleasure. Mack’s hands landed on my hips, and we found a good rhythm. He gave a soft grunt, almost a gasp, with each thrust, and I could tell he loved every second of this. As much as I did. I fell into the physical feeling of it, where it was all heat and motion and sensation.
Mack’s hips abruptly sped up, slamming into me. He had to be close. I certainly was, and aching for completion. Lifting up an inch, I wrangled a hand under me, and despite the awkward angle, started jerking myself off. I loved what Mack was doing, but I needed a hand on my cock to get me off.
My climax ripped through me like a tidal wave gone rogue, catching me by surprise. I let out a garbled shout as I came, vision going black. I felt so lightheaded with it, my head spun in a lazy turn. Mack’s warm weight sprawled across my back and he abruptly stopped thrusting. I was so lost in the aftershock of my own climax it took me a second to realize he’d come too.
Mmm. That was nice, that he’d liked this role reversal so well.
I lay flat in the puddle of my own cum for who knew how long before the stickiness got to me. Mack was still sprawled on top of me and made no signs of wanting to move soon. “Mack?”
“Hmm.” He sounded blissed out for a second. Then he startled. “Shit, I spaced out. You okay? Let me pull out.”
“I’m far better than okay,” I assured him wryly. As he pulled free, I winced a little. Ow. Yeah, okay, I’d feel that later. It was minor, though, like a bruise you only realized later you’d gotten from somewhere. As he moved away, I rolled onto my side and gave him a (probably sappy) smile. “I now understand why you like it.”
Mack smiled back, happy and clearly relieved. “Yeah? I could tell you were enjoying yourself, but enough to do it again?”
“I really think we should take turns,” I informed him and yeah, I was teasing. Also serious. That had been mind-blowing in the best sense and I definitely wanted a repeat. “Every other time, you top. I seriously did not know what I was missing.”
Tossing the condom into the wastebasket, he climbed back onto the bed and snuggled into me. “Every other time, huh? Okay, I’m down for that. I’m really glad you loved it.”
Something about the way he said that made me study him more carefully. “Were you nervous about it too?”
“Well, yeah. I’ve never topped before.”
My eyes nearly fell out of my head. Spluttering, I demanded, “Seriously?!”
Mack lifted a shoulder in a shrug, looking a little shy, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Every lover I’ve ever had wanted to top. Were dominant tops, at that. You’re the first to ever invite me to take him.”
The only response my mouth could come up with was, “Wow, this really is a morning for firsts.”
Giggling, Mack snuggled his head into the crook of my shoulder. “It really is. Mwen renmen’w, ma moitié.”
I snuggled him in even closer. Sometimes, I felt like buying a Creole phrase dictionary, but in this case, I didn’t need it. His tone told me everything. “Love you too.”
My stomach, having impeccable timing as always, chose that moment to grumble petulantly.
Mack snickered. “Will you love me more if I feed you?”
“Food is love,” I agreed mock-seriously. “And aren’t you famous for breakfast down here?”
“We certainly are. Shower, food, then we announce to the world that you’re mine?”
I kissed the smirk off his mouth. “So smug.”
“I,” he informed me grandly, “have every reason to be.”
15
We probably should have been more responsible adults, but Sylvia had green-lighted two days off for both of us, and today especially I wanted it to be just me and Brandon. After we got breakfast in the hotel’s dining room, we went back up to our room and made love some more. In fact, that was the pattern of the day. Go out for food, come back to the room to have sex. Repeat. Eventually, sometime around the wee hours of the morning, we fell into an exhausted slumber amongst the messed-up sheets.
I woke up to his voice, speaking cheerfully into the phone. “—well, unlike you two, we did it on purpose. Yeah, we’re both pretty over the moon with it. Our boss knows, we haven’t told anyone else. We took a day just for us.”
Brandon sat on the edge of the bed and I reached out, caught his free hand, and tangled our fingers together. He returned the loose grip and smiled down at me. His bedhead ruffled his black hair, making him goofy and touchable. How had I not realized before I loved this man to pieces? Every time I saw him, I smiled. Shouldn’t that have been my first clue?
Whoever was on the other end of the phone said something, and he was pulled back into the conversation with a frown. “Really? You’re accusing me of rushing? And I can hear Jon laughing in the background, he clearly agrees with me on this. Oh, that’s what you meant. Yeah, well, the rest of the world can go hang.”
Ah, he must be talking to Donovan. I decided to leave him to it and sauntered into the bathroom for a shower. I was a little sore and sticky after yesterday’s antics and a shower was definitely called for. Today I wanted to take the time to tell my family properly about Brandon and me. And some experimentation was called for. I’d passed the ghost in the foyer several times yesterday and that had been illuminating. The ghost had looked more like a transparent image than something living and breathing. And Brandon looked more solid to me, a weighty presence in comparison. It was an interesting distinction. Before, I’d had to really look to tell the difference. Now, it didn’t take more than a two-second glance on my part.
What was it about being anchored to him that changed my sight so? Beau had told me the living and the dead would be more distinct after I was anchored, but I hadn’t been sure of what he meant. That single ghost gave me a good indication. But I wanted to see more, get it settled in my mind that this was how I’d see the spectral world now.
Wrapping my towel around my waist, I lathered up to shave. Not that I ever got much of a beard—barely scruff. I scarcely had the right side shaved when Brandon stuck his arm in, my phone in hand. My ringing phone. I took it, and he retreated to continue his conversation with Don.
Of course, it was my mother calling. I swiped to answer and greeted, “Maman, good morning.”
“Well, you’re chipper,” she responded. “I called to see how things were going down there.”
“Something of a disaster.”
“And you’re happy about that?”
“God, no. I’ll tell you the details later on that. No, what I’m happy about is that I bonded to Brandon yesterday. He’s officially my anchor.”
Mom let out a cheer. “Mon angé, I’m so happy to hear it! I could just tell that you two are over the moon for each other. I wasn’t sure what was holding you back.”
“Me,” I answered truthfully. “I needed the time to see it all properly, I t
hink.”
“I’m glad you did. Brandon’s good to you, which is more than I can say about those other boys you tried to date.”
“Amen to that.” I continued chatting with her as I finished shaving. I told her a little about how my sight had changed, what that meant for me as a medium to have an anchor, filling her in on the basics. I had to put her on speaker so I could finish dressing, then switched out with Brandon so he could have the bathroom and shower.
The hotel menu was nice but limited. I was just contemplating breakfast (lunch? It was rather late in the day) when my phone rang again. This time with a number I didn’t recognize. “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Special Agent Eliana Forsythe. Am I speaking with Agent Mackenzie Lafayette?”
“You are, ma’am,” I answered politely. I had no idea who this woman was or why she was calling me.
“Oh good. I’m your exorcist.”
My confusion abruptly got shoved to the side by excitement. “I’m relieved you’re calling. I don’t mind saying this one’s a bit too much for me to chew.”
“A malevolent strong enough to break all the windows in a three-story building? I’d be surprised if any medium wanted to take that on. You’re smart to call me in. Thanks for that. Sylvia becomes an absolute bitch when one of her ducklings gets injured.”
The way she spoke of her made me ask, “Ah, you know my boss?”
“I’d say. We’re sisters.”
“Well, hell,” popped out of my mouth unchecked.
Eliana laughed, a throaty sound that reminded me of a panther’s purr. “Don’t hold it against me, okay? So, I’m hopping on a plane in the next six hours, we’ll be there by tomorrow. I’ve spoken to Falisa Tate already and gotten her opinion. I want yours. What did it look like to you?”
“I’ve never seen pitch darkness before, not in an energy reading.” I paused, not sure how to describe what I’d seen and felt. “I’ve run across bad spirits before, no mistake. But this thing, it was like it started off bad and was doing its best to become thoroughly evil. It’s injured multiple students, I think it’s chasing the friendly ghost that’s in the dorm building, and its miasma was so thick I felt like I was walking through sludge. Even Brandon could feel it, and he’s not at all sensitive. Ah, sorry, Brandon’s my anchor.”
