by Lexie Davis
Brock set the pan he held down and came to Dakota. He pulled his vest off and laid it on the table. “You can take it from me.”
Dakota held his gaze. The last time he’d tried to take blood from Brock, it had ended in the two of them duelling for their lives. Dakota laid his head against him, hugging him closer. He closed his eyes and breathed in the earthy scent of Brock, and the hunger inside him increased. He wanted this. He wanted him.
Brock gently pushed him away and started to undo his pants. Dakota watched as the skintight leather peeled down Brock’s strong thighs, and his cock bobbed free from the confinements. Brock reached for Dakota and pulled him out of the chair. A soft kiss to the lips made his body quiver before Brock gave him his back as he bent over the table.
“Go ahead,” Brock said. “Fuck me and take what you need.”
Dakota tugged down the shorts he’d put on. His body had went into the ‘need’ phase where he couldn’t put it off any longer. He disappeared into the living room for a moment, coming back with a bottle of lube. He smeared a generous amount on his cock and positioned himself at his lover’s entrance. Brock sucked in a breath when Dakota pushed forward and entered him with a harsh grunt.
The blood inside Brock’s body called to him, daring him to taste. He closed his eyes as he pulled out and his fangs elongated. It was a part of their nature to take what they needed, and Dakota did just that. Thrusting hard again, he leaned over Brock’s back and bit the side of his neck.
The general reaction was for the prey to run, but Brock stood completely still, submitting his body, his blood to Dakota. The coppery taste filled his mouth and quenched his hunger immediately. He pumped his hips in short thrusts as he sucked at Brock’s neck.
This was what he needed all along. Not necessarily the sex or the blood, but the connection. Each pull he made with his lips took a little more of Brock inside Dakota. And each thrust of his hips put a little more of himself inside Brock. He wanted to announce to the world how much his lover meant to him. Dakota pulled away from Brock’s neck as he came, shouting with satisfaction. He pulled back, standing on wobbly legs, and fell into the nearby chair exhausted.
Brock glanced over at him.
“What was that?” Dakota’s breath’s came in shallow gasps. “I— It’s never…”
Brock cleaned himself up with a dishrag and stared at Dakota. “You okay?”
His head spun as aftershocks of pleasure swam through his bloodstream. Dakota stared at the come that lay in a puddle on the floor. “I don’t know.”
Brock chuckled, resituating his pants. “Good to know I had that kind of effect on you.”
He cleaned up the mess they’d made and headed to the refrigerator to fix something to eat. Dakota watched him move about. He’d only heard about the connection between partners, the one that bound them together unlike anything else. He’d never experienced it though.
“You didn’t feel that?” Dakota blinked a couple of times before he gained enough courage to trust his legs again. He stood and gripped the table—weak, yet energised. “You didn’t feel anything different happen between us moments ago?”
Brock glanced over his shoulder at him. “Yes, I felt it. You might need to lie down. You don’t look so great.”
Dakota bent to pull his shorts up. “I’m fine. I feel great actually.”
He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Brock from behind. He closed his eyes and darkness overcame him.
“Put me down, Brock.”
Not in this lifetime. When Dakota fell to the ground, Brock went into full panic mode. He’d never experienced anything like what he had with Dakota. He’d been a little shaky in the kitchen himself, and honestly thought they needed food. But Dakota passing out scared the shit out of him.
Brock kicked the door open and tossed Dakota onto the bed. “You’re staying home tonight if I have to tie you to the bed to keep you here.”
Dakota groaned. “I’m fine. I feel fine.”
“Oh, yeah?” Brock stood with his hands on his hips. “People who are fine don’t pass out in the kitchen.”
“It was because of the blood. I shouldn’t have let it get that bad. It’s happened before, though I woke up vomiting the last time.”
Brock shook his head. “You’re staying home.”
“Don’t make demands on me, Brock. You know the consequences.” Dakota moved to the side of the bed to stand. “I’m fine. End of discussion.”
Brock pulled out his metal stake and stopped Dakota by putting it to his neck. “Don’t mess with me on this.”
Dakota clenched his jaw. “Where do you hide those damn things?”
Brock gave him a condescending smile. “It’s my little secret.”
After forcing Dakota back onto the bed, Brock left. None of it mattered though. He knew Dakota had business with Darius, and after a little rest, Brock pitied the poor fool.
* * * *
Brock turned down the back alley and headed straight into vampire territory. Whereas Haunting Love Alley was the place where the most famous vampires lived, the back alley was where they hung out. Just as he suspected, Darius and his cronies stood at the end, shadowed in darkness. The ruby red ring glittered in the faint light.
“If it isn’t Mr. Vampire Slayer himself,” one of Darius’ men said.
Brock didn’t back away, though he did slow his pace.
“You’d think after last night’s beating, someone like you would stay clear of my sight,” Darius said.
“Can’t do business unless it’s face to face,” Brock said.
“Really?” He gave a harsh chuckle. “What business would that be?”
“Your death.”
There were six vampires surrounding Darius. Brock took out two metal stakes and plunged them through the chests of the two largest ones. Like vapour drifting in the air, they disappeared. Brock turned in a circle to bypass a fist to the face and sliced the offender’s neck with the edge of his stake.
Blood, cold and sticky, scented the air around them. He turned towards the remaining men and waited for them to pounce. They held back.
“Do you have a Death Bill, slayer?” Darius stepped forward and reached for a paper in the breast pocket of his jacket. “Because I do.” He handed the paper to Brock. “I do believe you’ll recognise the name.”
Brock glanced at the bill. “Dakota?”
“That’s right.”
“For what? Not killing you when he had the chance?”
Darius gave him a humourless laugh. “Think again. Don’t think I’m not on to your little secret.” The man stepped forward and met him eye to eye. “You both broke the law, but since you’re merely human, I can't exactly get a Death Bill for you. I settled for Dakota instead.”
Brock smiled on the inside. Darius only knew half the truth. “So why are you showing this to me?”
Darius snapped his fingers and his goons brought a man forward, shoving him to the ground. Dakota whimpered in pain.
“Well, Slayer. Do your job. You are bound by the laws of the covenant to carry out the order. Kill the vampire.”
Brock glanced down at Dakota. It was true. He was bound to follow through on the order of the Death Bill and slay the one whose name was written in the crimson script. Everyone standing around them knew it. Hot fury flowed through Brock’s veins. There was no way in hell that would happen.
Dakota shifted slightly. Brock wasn’t worried about his job. His job would be done, but Dakota wasn’t the vampire he wanted dead. Brock reached down to lift Dakota off the ground. His body was battered and bruised, his lip swollen and bleeding. The anger Brock had deepened towards Darius as Brock met Dakota’s eyes.
“Go on,” Darius encouraged from the side. “We’re all waiting to see the infamous vampire slayer kill the most hated kind.”
“He’s just jealous,” Dakota remarked. “He saw you with me. He wanted me years ago and he couldn’t have me. Now he’s decided no one will.”
Brock blin
ked, his only response to Dakota’s statement. It all made sense now. Getting jumped in the alley. Dakota’s fury with Darius. Darius’ retaliation with the Death Bill. It was the whole if-I-can’t-have-you-no-one-will routine.
“Shut up,” Darius spat.
“I’ve got your back,” Dakota whispered.
Brock nodded and pulled Dakota’s body against his. He held the stake against his throat and pressed his lips against his ear. “Grab the dagger on my right side.”
Dakota made a mock protest against the stake, and the men around them laughed. He grabbed Brock’s thigh and slid his hand down until he found the hidden compartment on the side. Brock took that as his cue to move.
He threw the two stakes he held, each landing in the centre of a laughing vampire’s chest. They dissipated into thin air. Two vampires were left. Confident Dakota could handle himself with the dagger against them, Brock went for Darius, who was heading down the alley in the opposite direction.
The area was full of shadows with plenty of places to hide. Brock stopped and stared down the empty street. Rows of buildings lined both sides of the street with plenty of alleyways in between them that led away from the area and into the city. Silence surrounded him. Darius could be anywhere.
Brock reached into his left side pocket and pulled out the knife he kept there. A rustling sounded to his right caught his attention before footsteps echoed at a distance. Part of a hunter’s job is to know its prey. Darius stuck to the shadows in hiding. He was a coward, Brock knew, and the only way to finish him off was to draw him out of hiding.
“What will your buddies think of you when they found out you let a vampire slayer kill your ass?” Brock stopped and listened. “Who knows maybe I’ll be promoted to your position on council? Can you imagine that? Vampire Slayer signing the Death Bills instead of doing the actual killing. It’d definitely save me on dry cleaning.”
Just as Brock wanted, Darius came flying at him from the shadows, fangs bared, screeching like a banshee. Brock dropped the knife as he tried to fend Darius off with his bare hands. Darius knocked him to the ground, forcing the air from his lungs with a harsh grunt. He grabbed Brock’s neck, pushing his head to the side to bare his throat.
Brock bit Darius’ hand.
“Fuck,” Darius screeched, pulling back just enough to give Brock the upper hand. It was all he needed to flip their positions.
They traded punches. Brock hit Darius twice for every punch he received. The crazy-assed vampire hissed, nipping Brock’s knuckles with his fangs. Blood spilled onto the street as they rolled, trading places and punches. All Brock needed was his knife, the single weapon he had left.
“You screwed up, slayer.” Darius tried to push Brock’s head to the side. “I’m the one vampire you can’t defeat.”
Brock heard footsteps coming towards them. He hoped to hell it was Dakota and not another of Darius’ friends. Brock squeezed Darius’ jaw to keep him at bay while pushing his face away. The vampire, he had to admit, was one strong SOB.
“I’m not human,” Brock grunted.
The next few seconds passed in slow motion. Darius’ shock afforded Brock enough leverage to push the being to arm’s length away from him and a shot blasted into the night. Blood sprayed him, cold and coppery, as Darius’ head flew back. Brock pushed the dead vampire’s body away.
“Are you okay?” Dakota came to him, dropping a nasty looking gun to his side.
“Yeah,” he rasped, meeting his lover’s eyes. Silence filled the air surrounding them. Brock glanced around and decided to stand. He felt like shit, but at least he was the one still around. “We need to go home.”
Dakota nodded. He grabbed the gun and pointed it at the vampire’s body. He put two rounds in him before finally walking away.
They didn’t speak again until they locked themselves safely inside Dakota’s house. “You know a Death Bill is virtually irreversible. I can’t absolve it without settling the dispute.”
“What’s the dispute?”
Brock pulled the paper out of his pocket and frowned. “Your sexuality.”
Dakota’s bruised face paled. “How we gonna do that?”
Brock climbed the stairs and headed to the bedroom with Dakota following. After shrugging out of his vest, he began to work on his pants. “I don’t know.”
He contemplated his options. There would be some serious consequences on his part for offing a council member without a Death Bill. And he could be removed from his position as slayer if he didn’t carry out an ordered bill. Dakota had no chance as the case may be, and really, neither did Brock.
“We’re taking a shower and leaving before sunset.” It was the only option, and honestly, not a very good one. He glanced down at the gun Dakota held in his hands. “Where the hell did you get that thing?”
“One of the vampires I killed. You really need to update your weapons.” Dakota set it to the side. “Are we really going to run?”
“As far and as fast as we can.” Brock held out his hand. “Come on. It’ll only take a moron with half a brain to put the pieces together once they find the bodies. I lost my damn knife and stakes along the way.”
Dakota stared at him. “You’d do that for me?”
Brock stopped, confused. “Do what?”
“Give up everything you have here.”
Brock gripped the newel bedpost. “We’re in this together, Dakota. Even if you did con me into your agreement.”
Dakota glanced down for a second, blinking a few times before he lifted his gaze to Brock’s. His eyes were slightly glossy and filled with emotion. Neither one had any words to say. There was nothing to express what they felt towards one another.
Dakota licked his lips and linked his fingers with Brock’s. “Does my face look bad? It hurts like hell to talk.”
Brock snorted. “We both have battle wounds.”
Forever Yours
Chapter Five
Dakota stepped into the shower first and closed his eyes as the hot water hit his body. His body ached, though the wounds had healed. Brock fared a bit better. He seemed generally fatigued but overall okay. Dried blood covered most of his chest and face. Dakota moved away from the water, switching places with him.
Brock reached for the soap, lathered it between his hands and began to scrub. Dakota slumped against the wall and watched him.
“I don’t want to run.”
Brock turned around. “What? Why? You could die if we stay. My job states I have to carry out the Death Bill.”
“It’s cowardly. I’ve never let anyone tell me how to live my life or who I should be with. I’m not about to start now.” Dakota was surprised by his own frustration. “I don’t get what the big deal is anyway. What’s it to them that I’m gay? I’m not sleeping with them.”
If only it was that easy.
“Maybe I could see if there’s a way to absolve the Death Bill,” Brock said slowly. “It’s not going to be simple though. They don’t like people turning things around on their judgments, especially slayers.”
“It worked for your mother, didn’t it?”
Brock sighed. “That was different. I paid them off and they never looked back.”
He grabbed Dakota’s arms and pulled him towards the water. He reached for the soap and lathered his hands before washing away the grime on Dakota’s body. Each brush of Brock’s hands against Dakota’s slippery skin sent shivers through his body. The heat from the shower surrounded them, soothing his aching muscles along with Brock’s gentle touch.
Brock slid his hands down and back up, thumbs flicking against his nipples, lightly. Dakota sucked in his breath and met Brock’s eyes. His lover toyed with him, pinching and rolling his nipples between his soapy fingers. Brock leaned forward to kiss Dakota’s neck as his hands slid down his sides to cup his ass. Their dicks touched, drawing a hiss from Dakota’s battered lips.
“I want to know something.” Brock planted kisses along Dakota’s shoulder. He reached between them, gripped b
oth of their cocks and stroked. “Where did that money come from?”
Dakota’s knees wobbled as he held on to Brock’s arms. “My dad.”
Brock pulled back to meet his eyes. “I didn’t know you had a dad around.”
“I don’t.” Dakota slid his hands up to cup Brock’s face. “He left me money before he died.”
“And you spent it on me?”
Dakota couldn’t help it. He leant forward and pressed a light kiss to Brock’s lips. “Don’t get sappy on me. I’m in enough pain as it is already.”
Brock snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t get sappy.”
“Good.” Dakota pulled Brock’s arms around his body. “Quit chatting and put your mouth to better use.”
Brock gave Dakota’s ass a teasing squeeze. “Yes, sir.”
He dropped to his knees and pressed a kiss to Dakota’s stomach. Wrapping his fingers around Dakota’s thick erection, he started a slow pump as he swirled his tongue around his navel. Dakota watched, every muscle tense as his lover took the liberty to tease him. Hot water splashed down behind Brock, creating thick steam in the small stall.
“Tell me what you want. My hand, my mouth or my cock? Completely your choice tonight.” Brock lifted Dakota’s dick and flicked his tongue against his balls before drawing one lightly between his lips.
“Mouth,” Dakota rasped. “Cock… I don’t care. I want it all.”
Brock chuckled, nuzzling closer. “Your wish is my command.”
The flat of his tongue traced the length before he took the tip of Dakota’s cock into his mouth. Dakota braced his hands on the tile behind him, legs wobbling. Sex with Brock was always that way. Always the mind-blowing, out of this world fuck that he couldn’t get enough of. Brock flicked the barbell in the tip of Dakota’s cock with his tongue.
He stroked him, drawing the tip between his lips and sucking hard. Stars formed in front of Dakota’s eyes.
“Make me come.” Dakota gripped Brock’s shoulders. “Ah, shit, make me come.”
