“Not what you expected?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.
Draven didn’t see the point in lying. Surely she’d know if he did. “Guilty. I shouldn’t have presumed.”
“True enough.” Hileana crossed over to stand by Ninfa. “It’s a common occurrence, however, so don’t feel too bad about it.”
Draven stood, with Titus’ help. He felt like he should bow or something, though instead, he offered words he meant sincerely. “Thank you for saving us, for saving our family.”
Hileana nodded. “You’re welcome. I gladly volunteered to take on Tokokuan because of Ninfa, but had I not done so, another member of my family would have stepped in. We can’t allow any level of gods or goddesses to run amok and break our laws. Humans would find out about us and find some way to destroy us. Sneaky things, you humans.” She tilted her head at Titus. “You’ll keep our secret, though, won’t you?”
“O-of course.” Titus gulped.
“I wouldn’t threaten you,” Hileana said. “Please don’t think me so crass.”
“Okay. Thanks. I guess?” Titus huffed. “I mean, thank you for helping us, and thank you for not turning me into a pile of seagull feathers. Or something.”
“Feathers, hmm? I’ll keep that in mind for the next shifter that annoys me.” Hileana looked at Ninfa. “What do you think?”
Ninfa wrinkled her nose. “Not feathers. I like feathers. And no turning anyone into anything.”
“I would never.” Hileana batted her eyelashes at Ninfa.
“I know you wouldn’t, love.” Ninfa patted her lap, and Hileana sat.
And despite the fact that Hileana was some type of a goddess of whatever level, Draven soon found himself and Titus having a lively conversation with her and Ninfa.
As far as strange days went, this one would be at the top of the chart.
He watched Titus telling a funny story about one of his students. Titus told the story with his whole body just about, leaning forward, waving his arms, pitching his voice to mimic a child’s.
As far as awesome days went, this one was also at the top of the chart. Titus was alive and unharmed, and Titus loved him, deeply, truly.
That love was the greatest gift of all.
Epilogue
Three weeks later…
“I am so fucking glad we found a place to rent until the house is rebuilt.” Draven leaned against the front door after he locked it. “I love Rive, but if we’d had to stay with him for one day longer, I’d have lost my mind.”
Titus couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, once you stopped fawning over him—after he threw a fit because you kept fawning over him—and after you stopped insisting that he stay in bed—”
Draven snorted and waved a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah. He just needed to get his strength back, and he wasn’t going to do that running around all over.”
Titus knew the depth of Draven’s worry over Riveen. Despite a dose of healing from Ninfa’s lover, Riveen had been weak and barely able to talk for almost a week. It’d taken another week after that before Riveen had been almost back to normal.
And the last week of staying with Riveen had just about driven Titus and Draven both nuts.
“Well, now we’re finally in our own place, with some privacy,” Titus said, trying for his sexiest voice. “And we can—”
Draven’s phone blared with Riveen’s ringtone.
Draven groaned and took the phone from his shirt pocket. “Gods help us all, this better be an emergency!” He tapped the screen. “You’re on speaker, Rive.”
“Oh, good! So I caught you two doing the nasty?”
“No,” Draven groused. “We just got here.”
“Damn. My timing’s off. Let me hang up and call in five minutes.”
“Don’t you dare!” Draven looked at Titus and scowled. “Is there a reason you called, other than hoping to interrupt us having sex?”
“Hmm. Nope. I’ll call back.” Riveen hung up.
Draven turned his phone off. “No he won’t.” He pushed away from the door, his gaze locked on Titus. “And now we get to break in the rental.”
Titus flushed with arousal, heat pooling in his groin. “Hmm. You think so? Maybe we should have dinner first. Or put up the groceries at least.”
Draven slapped the thermostat dial as low as it’d go. “Food’ll keep.”
Titus’ dick began to harden. Draven all prowly and toppy was the hottest thing ever.
“I don’t know,” Titus mused, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. “The lube’s in one of those bags.”
Draven cursed. “Shit. Which bag?”
Titus shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Of course, there’s the duffel—” He yelped as Draven rushed him. “Hey!”
Draven had him in a fireman’s carry before Titus could get another sound out. “Gotcha. You’re all mine.”
Titus slid a hand into one of Draven’s back pockets and squeezed his ass. “Have been since I met you.”
“Sweet man.” Draven patted Titus’ butt. “Sexy man.”
“Wrong way round man.” Not that Titus minded much. He pinched Draven’s rump.
“Ow!” Draven swatted him in return.
Titus laughed. “You can’t put me in this position and expect me not to play.”
“We’re both gonna play.” Draven caressed Titus from ass to mid-thigh, then the world tilted, and Titus was sliding down the front of Draven’s body.
“Mmm.” Every part of Draven felt so good. Titus ran his hands over Draven’s biceps, then, lower, to his waist. “Perfect.” He leaned closer, gaze locking on Draven’s lips.
Draven didn’t disappoint. He moved one hand to Titus’ nape, the other to his hip, and he kissed Titus, gently at first, a brush of lips then tongue.
Titus pressed closer, needing more contact. “Please.”
Draven spun them around, then they were falling. Titus wasn’t worried. He landed on the bed and Draven came down partially on him, kissing Titus in that rough, needy way he craved.
Titus clung to Draven, kissing him back, thrusting his tongue against Draven’s, losing himself in the taste of his lover. He nipped Draven’s tongue then sucked on it as Draven buried his hands in his hair. The hot, hard length of Draven’s cock alongside Titus’ seemed to burn through the layers of clothes between them.
Titus wanted their clothes gone. He squirmed, intent on getting Draven naked as soon as possible, then jolted when his cell phone chimed.
Draven raised his head and groaned. “Tell me that’s not my brother calling you!”
Titus stared at Draven’s lips, wet, red, swollen from kissing. He wanted to do so many things to those lips—
Draven sat astride him and took Titus’ phone out of his pocket. “Should never have gotten this damn thing.”
Titus blinked, then blinked again. “Huh?”
“This phone. Or we should never have let Riveen have the number.” Draven poked at the screen. “Stop calling, Rive!”
“Oh! I interrupted—”
Draven turned the phone off and tossed it somewhere on the bed. He leered at Titus. “Now, where was I?”
Titus found a functioning brain cell. “Getting naked.”
Draven grinned. “Sounds good to me.” He slid off Titus and stood by the bed. “Whoever gets naked first gets—”
Titus whipped off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, then shoved his shorts and underwear down. He fumbled with his socks, because when he sat up to remove them, Draven tugged down his own shorts and briefs, and his cock was right there in front of Titus’ face.
Or close enough to it.
Titus slipped off the bed and down to his knees. “Gimme.” He cupped Draven’s balls and used his hold to draw Draven’s dick to his mouth.
Titus licked the leaking tip, tongued the slit while he rolled Draven’s balls in his palm.
“Titus,” Draven rasped, resting one hand on top of Titus’ head and pinching his own nipple with the other. “Oh yeah, like th
at.”
Titus licked and sucked the crown until Draven was gasping and trying to press into his mouth. He opened wide and took half of Draven’s length in, came up, swirled his tongue around the glans, then went back down.
Draven hissed and his eyes nearly closed. Titus kept his gaze on Draven’s face, watching his expression. When Titus pressed the tip of his tongue against Draven’s slit, Draven shuddered, and his eyes fell closed as soft curses escaped him.
Titus rubbed one finger over the soft skin behind Draven’s balls and took Draven’s shaft into his mouth again. He flicked his tongue as he worked, and was rewarded with the flavor of pre-cum and another shudder from Draven.
Both spurred him to take Draven in deeper, to suck harder and get more of those needy sounds Draven was making. He swallowed when Draven breached his throat, came back up to tease the tip, then glided down again.
Titus could have sucked Draven until he came, but Draven cupped his chin and thrust a few times, quaking when he pressed into Titus’ throat, then rubbed his thumb along the side of Titus’ mouth and looked at him.
Instead of speaking, Draven knelt and pulled Titus to him. He kissed Titus, and there was an unmistakable reverence in it, tangled up with need.
Titus held on to Draven, heart filled with love that he knew would only grow stronger.
Then Draven palmed Titus’ ass, kneading his cheeks and spreading them. Titus clutched at Draven, rubbing against him, bringing sweet friction to his cock. It wasn’t enough, but part of the pleasure was in the need that increased with each brush of cock on cock.
Draven dipped his head down and nipped Titus’ neck.
“Oh, yes,” Titus whispered, goosebumps pebbling his skin. “Yes, please.”
Draven began to suck on the spot he’d nipped. Titus couldn’t keep still, couldn’t stop thrusting, grinding, seeking more from his lover.
“Patience,” Draven said against Titus’ wet skin.
Titus tried to growl, but Draven’s finger rubbing over his hole shorted out his speech circuit.
Draven massaged his hole and kept kissing Titus’ neck and lips until Titus was dizzy with pleasure.
He thought he begged Draven to fuck him but wasn’t sure the words ever made it past his lips.
Until Draven said, “Oh, I am,” and maneuvered Titus around to face the bed.
Titus didn’t even get to ask what was happening. He knew when Draven parted his cheeks what was coming next—and it was confirmed when Draven licked over his hole.
Titus was incoherent after the third lick, and by the time Draven was tongue-fucking him, the only sounds Titus could make were guttural grunts and moans.
“Love you,” Draven said a moment later.
Titus was dimly aware of the sound of the lube being opened, the gurgle and splutter of it being poured. He moaned again when Draven worked the viscous stuff into him, slicking up Titus’ hole.
Then Draven was pressing up behind Titus, the fat tip of his cock nudging his hole.
Titus arched his lower back and shoved, needing Draven’s shaft in him. The head stretched him wide, caused an ache and burn, that intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that Titus loved.
“Fuck,” Draven mumbled. “I was—fuck!” He pressed in deeper, then deeper still, until he bottomed out. “God…damn. You feel so…oh…” He moved his hips in a way that sent zings of ecstasy throughout Titus.
Then he grabbed Titus by the shoulder and hip, withdrew fully, and slowly filled him again. “Fuck, honey, you should…you should see this.”
Titus couldn’t keep his eyes open when he was lost in the blissful feeling of having Draven fuck him. Every withdrawal, every thrust, every tightening of Draven’s hands on him, every drop of sweat that fell, every rasped breath and broken curse—all served to push Titus closer to an orgasm that felt bigger than anything he’d ever experienced.
Draven began to fuck him faster, began pulling Titus back into each thrust. Titus cried out when Draven’s dick rubbed over his gland. He didn’t know if he managed to form a word, didn’t care as he lost control and concern, as he let himself do nothing but feel and chase the pleasure being pounded into him.
Titus was wild with it, he let go on levels he never had before. He was need and want and lust, love and hunger and release.
Draven’s hand on his cock intensified everything. Titus braced his arms against the bed and shoved back harder.
“Fuck!” Draven began jacking him hard and fast. “Come, come, come, Titus—”
Titus jerked, his whole body involved as he gave way to the orgasm breaking in him. His ears rang from his shout or Draven’s—he didn’t know which—or it could have been both. Cum jetted from his cock a moment before Draven bit down on his shoulder, the sting of pain just enough to add to the pleasure.
Draven’s release warmed Titus from the inside, then he lost himself in his climax, which seemed to go on and on, turning him weak from the power of it. Titus’ legs were too shaky to keep him up, and had Draven not locked his arms around him, he’d probably have just toppled over and slept for a few hours.
But Draven did steady him. “Titus, Titus, you have…” Draven thrust a few times before kissing Titus’ nape, “You have my heart and soul.”
Titus grinned. He knew he did, just like Draven knew— “And you’ve got mine.”
And not just for a summer, but forever.
Want to see more from this author? Here’s a taster for you to enjoy!
Dark Nights and Headlights
Bailey Bradford
Excerpt
One of the good things about owning your own fairly decent-sized ranch was that you had a certain amount of freedom other people didn’t. You could walk around bare-assed naked in most places on it, let the grass grow crazy and not landscape for shit. You could have a pile, or piles, of rusty old equipment and trash that ought to be hauled off, buildings crumbling and in various states of disrepair, and you could do shit like what Joban ‘Joe’ Jacek was doing tonight—driving back across his property from his brother’s trailer, a little stoned and buzzed.
Joe didn’t have the piles of trash or the crumbling buildings, and being butt naked outside was just asking to be mosquito bait. He did allow himself to get a bit loose sometimes. He knew the dirt road going from Trent’s place to his like he knew his own dick. Joe was on pretty damn great terms with his dick. They’d been best friends for going on two decades now.
It wasn’t the first time Joe had made the drive in a somewhat altered state. Living on a ranch in the middle of Uvalde, Texas, Joe took his relaxation wherever he could get it. It was just him and Trent running the ranch, and at a little over a thousand acres, they were kept busy enough from morning until evening.
And there wasn’t Joe’s preferred kind of fun anywhere around. Sure, the creation of Grindr had helped some, and Craigslist—well, that one just scared the shit out of him as often as the pics loaded to it made him horny. But even Grindr couldn’t plop a choice of gay men down real close to the ranch, and Craigslist… Joe would just take a pass on that one. He’d seen the news stories about people using that media source to find victims and all. Plus, with his luck, he’d wind up having to pay whoever he met up with. Or he’d get mugged, beaten—something like that.
So he was feeling pretty good, tired and relaxed in a way he didn’t experience often. The truck bumped along down the road, and Joe figured he should maybe grate it again and try to smooth the ruts out of the dirt. It’d mean scheduling a day just for that, so he’d need to talk to Trent about it, see when Trent could take over his chores for the most part.
“Probably shoulda thought of that before I left his place,” Joe muttered to himself. He snorted. Trent was messed up and wouldn’t have been able to plan anything. He’d added tequila shots to his beer drinking and the pot smoking. Joe would be surprised if Trent wasn’t puking sick half the day tomorrow.
Joe just felt good. Calm and mellow and relaxed. It was almost as good a feeling as t
he sleepy, melty sensation following a fantastic orgasm.
As he drove slowly down the road, Joe was awed by the land at night. The moon was high in the dark sky. Stars sparkled overhead like millions of hopes and dreams just waiting to come to earth. The moon was incredible, big and so bright it almost made his eyes ache.
Joe wondered just how bright it was. Curious, he turned off his headlights. Then he braked, and blinked as white spots danced before his eyes. Once his vision had cleared, or mostly, he looked out of the windshield.
“Well, shit. It’s dark out.” And he was a genius. Joe snickered and narrowed his eyes as he leaned against the steering wheel. A little concentration and he could make out the road. Not very far, but yeah, a few feet or so in front of the truck.
He drove along like that, hunched over the wheel. His beater truck was too old to have airbags, so that was a worry he didn’t have. Joe concentrated as well as he could, trying to see the road. As familiar as he was with the land, he’d have said he could drive home blindfolded. Thirty-eight years he’d spent on the place—his whole life. Trent had gone away to college since their dad had said one of them needed a degree, but he’d come home as soon as he’d graduated.
Both of the Jacek boys had ranching in their blood. Both of them were gay, too, something that would have killed their daddy had he not already been dead when Joe’d started to accept his own sexuality.
Joe’s chest ached and he took a hand off the wheel, slowed down some more and rubbed at the spot. “Hope I’m not having a heart attack like Dad.” He blinked, because surely he had something weird going on with his eyes. There was no way something was moving out there in front of the truck. “What the—?”
His first thought was that one of the cows had gotten loose, except it wasn’t big enough to be a cow. Plus, its eyes were glowing yellowish in the dark.
A chill shot down Joe’s spine. He hit the brakes too hard even though he had been poking along, and the impact of his chest against the steering wheel knocked the breath out of him.
In Deep Page 19
