He controlled his buoyancy as though he could fly. The soles of his worn sneakers barely touched the silty riverbed.
Ash went downstream and further into the deep, knowing that the river channel would drop steeply to where the barges and the boats traveled the Allegheny in their daily quest to fulfill their individual and varied missions. The water surface was several feet above him, sparkling with reflected sunlight. Golden beams filtered through the water and lit up the sediment load, making it appear as though the light itself was tangible. He felt he could reach out and grasp it, hold onto it like unto a solid thing. A golden railing that led up into the sky far above.
Today’s mission was to feel the ley lines, he reminded himself. He wanted to know whether he could feel them at all, both them and the node where they intersected. This was not something he could have done before his lessons with Cooper’s uncle, but even now, equipped with new techniques, he had trouble feeling the hum of their contained power on dry land. Here, though, in his own element? It was as though the water allowed him to feel everything.
His senses were accentuated.
He heard the faraway boats, the vibrations of traffic on the bridge upstream, and the roiling of the current downstream, where a wreck rested in the depths of the channel.
He was in the water, yet he didn’t feel wet. That light and floaty feeling most people experienced was something he could turn off, like a switch, as though he regulated his own body density. Or as though he just became one with the water – he didn’t know how it worked, only that it did.
He could speak to the interweaving currents, and he knew how to let the water inside him. His body had always known how to extract enough oxygen through his slick skin so that he could survive this deep for this long.
Ash wasn’t holding his breath. There was no breath.
His whole skin surface perceived the water’s fresh, lively muddiness, the earthy traces that spoke of spring and life and vegetation. All those factors that made the river’s water a soft caress against his skin converged in words and phrases, and together they gave him a wealth of information. The energy sphere in his center, that little dynamo he had learned to ground and center, and which uncle Owen had helped him expand, somehow did the feeling of water for him. It probably did the breathing for him, too.
Today he wasn’t interested in the PCB levels, although he did perceive them. He consciously blocked out his obsession with the heavy metal load in the sediment under his feet. It was there, he knew about it, but he chose to deal with these issues later.
Today was all about that vein of pulsating and tangled energy that passed under his property on shore.
Whatever water sense allowed him to do his water walking also gave him the grace and courage to stretch his senses out, and feel for an energy source he would’ve been afraid to touch under any other circumstances.
The ley line was still there, seeming almost indistinct. Ash could only surmise that this was because Cooper wasn’t there to amplify him. On the other hand, Ash didn’t feel its scorching heat. He wasn’t blinded by its brilliance, and he didn’t feel pulled into the turbulent flow of its wild energies.
Had he been on the land, Ash would have exhaled with relief.
He could feel it.
Here, under the water that helped accentuate his senses, the ley line glimmered with a dull throb of energy even without Cooper’s help. He extended his mind, stretching his senses further out. With Cooper around, the ley line’s energy had been gold-tone and quicksilver, as though two streams of molten metal collided and churned and fought with one another.
Right now, the way he sensed it on his own, the energy flow had a blue, watery cast. He could detect it all the same, and to his great relief, he could also see the detailed swirls and eddies that signified its disturbed and turbulent flow.
And that flow was something he needed to learn how to manage.
AS ASH OBSERVED and took notes on the task ahead, he grudgingly admitted that calming a node of such turbulence would be better done with some help.
Pushing a tornado off its destructive path had taught him the extent of his limits. A bit of humility went a long way toward not skating on the edge of disaster the way he had been for the last few years.
It was a wonder he was still intact.
Just like wrangling the tornado had been easier with Cooper’s and Mrs. Sorensen’s help, draining the excess energy and removing whatever blockage interfered with the ley line’s natural flow would be easier – and safer – as a group project.
He needed to find people who had done this before.
He needed to learn how to drain off the excess power, how to divert it to something useful, or at least harmless. And he had to learn how to do it even with Cooper’s amplifying effect around. That amplification could be an asset, Ash was well aware, but he also knew his own limits.
Slight tension in the back of his neck told him it was time to head back to shore. Despite his natural affinity for water, Ash couldn’t stay under the surface for more than half an hour. Not yet.
THOSE SIX HOUSES Ash had bought in one fell swoop of eternal optimism – the ones next to the large, contaminated plot by the river – were just about finished, but Cooper still expected him and needed his help while Ash was still in the water, basking in its flow. As he hurried up, his mind turned to his partner. As an architect, Cooper had done a magnificent job. He had redesigned the interiors, working with the old structures and updating them to something new and filled with light-drenched, simple beauty. There was still a ton of work to be done.
They had already gone over the punch sheet, making sure the structure was ready for the building inspector to sign off on it. Ash had decided to do some of the hands-on finishing by himself, and Cooper jumped right in, offering help.
The memory of Cooper’s sunny enthusiasm chased Ash out of the water faster than his sudden, urgent need for more oxygen.
He waded out of the river and scrambled onto a large block of concrete where ships used to dock and unload their goods so long ago. He stripped out of his wet board shorts, dried off with a towel, and pulled on a pair of light Chino pants and a dark blue linen button-down shirt. As the warm sun kissed his river-chilled shoulders, his underground problems felt safely tucked away.
He thought back to the tunnel that led from the third rowhouse down to this very dock. They couldn’t use it now, not while the ley lines crossed and formed an angry node of jumbled and violent energies. Walking through the tunnel meant walking too close to this energy source. It could mean being harmed by it. He didn’t have a ground-stone, after all, which would protect the mingling of his own energies with that of somebody – or something – else.
Someday, though. Someday they would clean up this mess, and they would reclaim the tunnels that formed an underground transportation network, which had allowed dock workers to carry goods from the river boats straight to the houses, to stores, and to factories. He’d have to ask Cooper whether this warren of old tunnels led anywhere else.
If there were more tunnels, the entire area under Lawrence might be accessible from beneath. Same went for the Strip District, and maybe even downtown. Pittsburgh was, after all, built on hills that resembled Swiss cheese with all their empty coal mines. It only stood to reason that their predecessors wouldn’t shy away from building the city up, and maybe even cover the old roads and alleys with venues that allowed them to move heavy goods without clogging the hilly, sloped streets.
ASH’S SHORT, DARK hair was standing up, all wet, drying the way he fluffed it up with his fingers. He walked up the hill, aware of the reddish, smooth cobblestones underfoot. Stray gravel crunched under the soles of his fashionable moccasins, and the summer sun continued to lean into him, even though the river’s chill was long gone.
He didn’t mind cold water, the way he didn’t care that his sneakers dangled from his fingertips all wet and dripping muddy river water unto the weeds that sprouted up and down the street.
>
He hung a right around an overgrown fence that concealed his parcel of land. Its old orchard, the ancient and misused railroad which lay rusting in the weeds, and the veritable forest of colonizing saplings were well-hidden from prying eyes. Across the street from them, however, stood six row houses.
Just a glance reassured him that they had little to do with the pitiful wrecks he had bought when the ground had still been frozen. Their new rooftops gleamed with solar shingles. Their brick façades had been power-washed and carefully restored, including the few bits of quaint, carved wood decorations that now gleamed with fresh green and white paint. The new energy-efficient windows spoke of investment and long-term planning, and every door had its own number and its own mail slot.
Except he didn’t dare to live here. He couldn’t possibly risk being that close to a wild ley line, especially not since he fully intended to live with Cooper.
CHAPTER 4
Cooper staggered up the four concrete stairs that led up to the front door, fumbled for his key, and unlocked it. He shoved it open, entered the carpeted hallway with its old-fashioned tall ceilings and a retro chandelier, and waved Ash in.
It felt weird, having to extend a special invitation for Ash to come inside, and he wouldn’t have, except Ash was being so painfully polite about his presence. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t been living together for the last three weeks – except they had been gone for two of those, and maybe that little working vacation kept a new domestic routine from sticking.
Someday soon, Ash would hopefully use his own key and not wait for Cooper to open the door.
Between traveling and making sure the six row houses in Lawrenceville got finished properly, the vast majority of Ash’s belongings still sat in boxes in the basement. Only his suitcase, and the padded backpack he used for his laptop, resided permanently by the wall of Cooper’s bedroom. Although Ash’s generous bed was still in pieces, propped against the basement’s wall, they did bring the mattress upstairs. It took up most of the floor, the way it was squished next to Cooper’s second-hand twin-size bed.
Cooper was surprised Ash put up with this messy state of affairs. But then again, maybe he didn’t feel entitled to have a say. Perhaps Ash didn’t feel quite at home yet in their little place.
“Hey, hon.” Cooper leaned in and pulled Ash into a hug. He dropped a kiss onto Ash’s temple, then dragged his lips down to his high cheekbone.
He paused. They were both still, as though time itself had stopped, before Cooper continued on his sensuous trek to Ash’s lips.
They touched. Ash stumbled backward, crashing into the wall. Cooper chased him, pressing him into the cool surface of the plaster wall, relishing the intermittent and heart-rendingly sweet contact of their lips. Chests together, all heat and want, Ash shut his eyes at the needy press of their groins. Air grew thin as he rose against Cooper, who slipped his thigh between Ash’s strong legs.
All of this was new. These incredible sensations, these heady feelings as he could finally embrace Ash and drink his fill of addictive kisses – all this was possible only because neither he nor Ash had to worry about Cooper losing control. Not while he was wearing his ground-stone.
“Ash,” he whispered as they broke for air. The sensuous slide of Ash’s firm hands up Cooper’s narrow hips and under his T-shirt forced a ragged gasp out of him. Cooper sagged forward, letting himself feel those nimble, slightly-callused hands explore his back. He groaned as Ash kneaded his tight shoulder blades with warm, caring fingertips. “So good,” Cooper gasped. If something didn’t happen fast, he feared he’d slide down to the ground in a boneless heap of happiness.
Ash stirred between him and the wall, threatening to slip away with that liquid grace Cooper had admired from the first time he had set his eyes on him.
“Cooper,” Ash whispered back, smiling. “My mattress is bigger than your bed. We haven’t had a chance to test it yet.”
“Would you like to shower first?” Cooper knew Ash had been in the river, but as for himself, he felt salty and stinky after a long and vigorous day.
Ash buried his head into Cooper’s shoulder and inhaled greedily. “Ahh, no,” he groaned. “I love the smell of you. I can smell the sun on your skin, and you are just so... All man, and all...” He halted, as though was going to say something big, something loaded with portent and the kind of emotion which glimmered in his eyes, all mine, but back-tracked from the unfamiliar territory of possessive, long-term gestures. “All sexy,” he said shyly, as though he decided on something safe and obvious instead.
“Okay.” Cooper slid down Ash’s body just enough to make up for his extra 2 inches in height. Ash’s praise, his fascination with Cooper’s enticing scent at the end of the day, that was... That was awkward, to say the least, but if Ash didn’t make fun of him for it, Cooper wasn’t going to complain.
He brushed his lips against Ash’s chin, then captured his mouth in a greedy and possessive kiss. Ash parted his lips just a crack, inviting Cooper to come in and play.
Cooper wasn’t going to decline the invitation. Their tongues slid against each other in a slow and sensuous dance. Every second, every breath, every touch exploded in fireworks of sensation, relished and savored and enjoyed. When Cooper didn’t think he could stand any more, when his knees began to liquefy and when his cock throbbed with wanton need, he tugged on Ash’s hair and whispered: “Bed?”
“Maybe.” Ash’s response was a soft exhale.
Cooper didn’t think he could stop kissing Cooper long enough to let Ash move away from the cool touch of the plaster wall against his back. It must’ve felt good, that cool wall, on a warm and muggy day like this, and besides, Cooper would make up for it by heating Ash’s front. He pressed into his chest, his thighs.
His heart.
How did he ever deserve a man like Ash? A man so perfect, with that sublime beauty that belied his core of steel. A man of strong convictions, which resonated with the way Cooper himself viewed the world.
AS ASH YIELDED to Cooper’s furious assault on his lips, as he let his mouth be plundered in a soul-stealing kiss that left him breathless and desperate for more, he didn’t think he could support himself on his own two legs.
Cooper was intoxicating.
He was magical, and kind, and so sweet Ash’s teeth hurt just thinking about it.
Somebody said something, and before Ash knew it, he was upside down and falling. He bounced, up and down, time slowing down for them as his own mattress both accepted and rejected his weight.
With a thud of an exhale, Cooper landed above him. Braced on his arms and knees, he made sure he gave Ash enough space to breathe, and to move.
And, dammit, he was also incredibly sexy, looming over him like that. Broad shoulders under his T-shirt, with defined muscles flexing, he definitely had his attention. Cooper’s warm weight, the sight of his lighter hair in a sensuous disarray, yet darkened with sweat, he was a picture of barely checked lust. His pupils were blown so wide, Ash couldn’t discern the color of his irises. Not in this dim room with its closed shades that Cooper so generously called their bedroom.
Cooper dove for his neck. The collar of Ash’s button-down shirt got in the way, and Cooper grabbed it in his teeth, and yanked.
Fabric ripped.
Cooper growled, then paused. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly. “Too much clothing.”
As their garments flew onto a pile, Ash realized he had never been this wanton, this desperate. Perhaps not since the first time they got together on the concrete dock by the river. That one time, when a passionate embrace and the press of each other’s bodies had caused the earth to move, and the skies to open in a violent microburst.
They hadn’t dared to do much since. A stolen kiss here, a careful encounter in the river there. They always watched out for each other, keeping an eye on each other’s energy levels. On their tempers, too, making sure their own well of enthusiasm didn’t boil over only to sweep the lives of innocent bystanders into a w
hirlwind of chaos. The safety of others was their prime imperative.
But now, Cooper was wearing the ground-stone his grandfather had made for him. The stone that did, indeed, seem to negate Cooper’s energy. It contained his huge and powerful flashes of destructive glory, a flash such as occurred during an energy release.
Such as an outpouring of emotion.
Such as an orgasm.
Uncontrolled, wild, and unpredictable in magnitude – Ash knew well that Cooper seldom dared to indulge his need and his desire. He always made sure Ash was satisfied, but as for himself? Self-control had become an all-important habit born of necessity.
Until now.
“I want you so bad.” Ash realized it was he who whispered those words. They hissed through the air, hot and searing, lighting up a different kind of fire in Cooper’s eyes.
“I want you too,” Cooper said in a voice that rasped along Ash’s skin, raising goosebumps. He lowered himself onto Ash, slowly and carefully, as though Ash might break under his rock-hard weight. Cooper’s thigh, all skin and fuzzy hair, slid against Ash’s smoother one as Cooper straddled him.
Their cocks touched, silky soft on the outside and as hard as a steel pipe within.
Ash moaned.
Cooper gasped, biting off his needy hiss. “Too good,” Cooper said in a voice that might have been a sob. He reached for Ash’s length with a hand that was bigger and softer than Ash’s, and wrapped his fingers around the heated flesh.
Ash whimpered, melting into the mattress. He arched his back, rising into Cooper’s exquisite touch.
Cooper’s hand, and Cooper’s cock.
Like a Torrent Page 3
