Before Holden could rethink the decision, he had his phone out and he was dialing Nate’s number. There was a pause before it rang, and he feared the number had been disconnected and changed, but it rang. It rang four times before voice mail picked up.
“Nate,” he said haltingly. “It’s Holden. Look—I kept my word and left your name out of it, but . . . Chase is gone. He’s been missing for a while, and I don’t know what to do—”
The door to the office burst open. Holden stiffened, still facing the bulletin board, and hung up without finishing the sentence. From the lack of impressions coming off the person who’d stepped into the room, he knew it was Six.
“Shouldn’t you be down there monitoring the door and making sure only Community folks get in?”
“That’s a wash,” Six said. “It’s too crowded. The line would get hostile.”
“And you care about them getting hostile?”
“No. But I figured you wouldn’t want me pissing off your regulars. Even the voids.”
“Heh. You’re pretty intuitive for an impenetrable.”
Six joined him next to the bulletin board. He slid his hands into the pockets of the black-and-gray camo cargo pants he wore way too often. “You’re a bigoted motherfucker.”
Holden couldn’t have glared more incredulously had Six accused him of being a conservative. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a bigot.”
Holden ground his teeth together. “How am I a bigot?”
“You don’t like non-psychics. You think we’re lesser than you.”
“Okay, no.” Holden fully faced him. “First—you’re a psychic. Just because your brain is a giant EMP wave for psychic abilities doesn’t mean you’re a void. Your gift is just more passive than mine.”
“You’re the first person to ever put it that way,” Six said, raising an eyebrow. “Shocking.”
“Yes, it’s shocking that I have half a brain.” Holden narrowed his eyes. “Second—I don’t dislike voids. I just have little patience for them.”
“You think you’re smarter than them. Hell, you think you’re smarter than me, and that is definitely a product of your delusions of grandeur. Me being an impenetrable doesn’t mean I don’t have common sense, Holden. And you implying it does just makes you a giant douche bag.”
“Are you less likely to let me give you another blowie if I act like a douche bag?”
Six’s mouth twitched. He ran his tongue over his teeth as if to prevent himself from flashing even an eighth of a smile. “Don’t say ‘blowie.’”
“Fine, but the question still stands.”
“Heh.” Six went back to eyeballing the photographs. “We could fuck around again. If I get to touch you next time.”
There should have been an explosion of triumph in Holden’s chest, but he felt nothing. Just a distant satisfaction that Six still wanted him, which collided with his original plan to use sex to get information. Although he had no idea how likely it was that a guy who merely said, We could fuck around again, would form enough of an emotional attachment to spill any of the beans.
“Er, yes, there would not be complaining from me there.”
Six slowly nodded. “Cool.”
“Yeah. Cool.”
When Holden didn’t say anything more, Six looked at him sidelong. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing.”
“After all that game you spit on Christmas, all you’ve got is cool? Bullshit.”
“That was before,” Holden said.
“Before what?” Six’s brows drew together when his question earned him no answer. “Did something happen?”
“Come on, Six. You know it did.”
Six’s lips curled down. He crossed his arms over his chest, shoulders back. “I was put here to keep you out of trouble and make sure the club is keeping the psychics happy. That’s it. Anything else that goes on has nothing to do with me, Holden. I can tell you that right now.”
Holden cycled through responses, and wondered why he was on the brink of blurting out the truth. There was something about Six, his straightforward demeanor and bottomless dark eyes, that made Holden feel like their conversations were their own. Not repeated for anyone else. Not fodder for another plan. When he searched Six’s face, he found absolutely no indication that this was a game or part of a job. Even without the ability to reach out with his empathy and verify these suspicions, Holden trusted his instincts.
He trusted Six.
Maybe he didn’t have to fuck the man to get some answers.
“Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”
“When? I don’t want to leave the—”
This time it was Holden flashing a slight smile. “I’m not suggesting you leave your post, but don’t think I’m not endeared by your dedication. I meant later. We could do a 4 a.m. breakfast?”
“Fine. But I like my pancakes homemade.”
Was this Six’s way of saying he wanted to fuck and eat breakfast in bed? Judging by the way he was looking Holden up and down, it sure seemed like it.
Four o’clock in the morning in Midtown Manhattan was magical whether or not you had psychic powers.
With Holden worn out and exhausted, his mental shield was down by default. Even in the wee hours, a walk from Evolution, now shuttered and darkened, to Ninth Avenue to catch a cab, led to a million impressions slamming into him from all sides. He felt the horny drunk folks stumbling home, agitated third-shift employees, the slinky cold malice of someone dangerous scheming somewhere in the shadows, and a million other emotions ranging from resentment to heartbreak to unquenched excitement.
By the time they slid into the back of a cab heading to Holden’s apartment, he was wound tight and on the edge of the seat.
Was this what Nate felt like all the time? There was no way to know, but the question reminded Holden that Nate had never returned his call. Maybe he wouldn’t, and he’d ignore the message. Maybe he’d removed himself completely from the mess of the Community now that he was safely tucked away with his lover. But Chase was Nate’s brother too, and if he’d gone through so much to draw Nate across the country to help investigate Theo’s murder, could he really ignore his remaining bloodline?
A cool dry hand slid over Holden’s, jerking him out of the cloud of his thought. Ignoring the first instinct to pull away, he gave Six a startled look.
“What—”
The flood of impressions ceased as though someone had sheared off the connections. With them went the clatter of his thoughts. Astonishment washed over Holden.
“How did you do that?”
Six arched an eyebrow, looking like an asshole even though he’d just saved the last remnants of Holden’s sanity. “Do what?”
“Everything stopped.” Holden nodded at the window. “All of the impressions that have been battering my skull for the past few hours. As soon as you touched me, it stopped.”
“How do you know it’s me?”
Holden moved his hand from beneath Six’s and instantly winced as the onslaught rammed into him. Six grabbed his hand again, and it all faded away. He couldn’t feel Six’s emotions, but Holden could feel the power of the other man’s gift. It was like a blizzard whiting out all the noise and bringing the world to a standstill.
“That’s incredible,” he said slowly. “It almost feels like you knocked out my third eye, but I’m not . . . alarmed by it. I just feel calm.”
“I assume that’s a good thing?”
“Yes.” Holden exhaled and let his shoulders relax. “It is definitely a good thing.”
Six nodded, that glittering onyx gaze burning into the side of Holden’s face. “So I guess I should keep touching you, then.”
Another unlikely laugh burst out of Holden’s mouth. “Jesus, that’s the second time you’ve flirted with me tonight. Are you drunk?”
“No. Just horny.”
“One taste and you can’t get enough?” Holden asked, dropping his voice lower so the poor cabbie wouldn’t hear.
“I like it when a man is needy.”
“I don’t know about needy, but I can’t get that blowjob out of my mind,” Six said with the exact volume you’d use while speaking over loud music in a club.
“Hush.”
“Why?”
“Because the cab driver will hear you.”
Six glanced through the Plexiglas divider. “So?”
“So . . . well, maybe he doesn’t want to hear us talking about sucking dicks.”
“Why would I care?”
Holden snorted. “Never mind. You can go back to flirting with me now.”
“I will, but all of the fun shit can wait until after you talk to me about whatever you wanted to talk to me about.”
“Ah. Right.” The amusement faded. “I may not be up for it after that conversation.”
Six nodded and kept running his thumb over Holden’s hand. “That bad?”
“Yes,” Holden said, looking out the window again. “It’s that bad.”
They were quiet the rest of the way to his apartment in Chelsea—a holdover from the days when it had been the gayest neighborhood in Manhattan. It wasn’t ideal to bring someone he didn’t fully trust to his one safe space, but always being on Six’s turf didn’t feel like the best course of action either. Although, with Six’s shield expanding and encompassing them both, the concerns about Six’s allegiances had temporarily faded away. For the first time in Holden’s life, he could not help but think voids were lucky if their heads were always this quiet. How much more functional would he have been as a youth if his mind hadn’t always been so cluttered? What would have gone differently if only he hadn’t grown up tailoring his behavior to the feelings—feelings he experienced as though they were his own—of the people around him.
Would he have been more autonomous? Less dependent on approval? Less pleasure seeking? Less attention seeking?
Would he have learned to be satisfied with himself instead of always trying to shift the energy around him?
He didn’t know, but he did enjoy this quiet.
Without speaking, Holden led Six into his fourth-floor walk-up with their hands still linked. Six’s fingers were damp when Holden shut the door, and they were left in the darkness of the entryway, a sliver of moon tracing up the narrow hallway and the glint of their eyes in the shadows of the door.
It was time to stop clutching Six like a lifeline and accept the return of rushing thoughts, fear, and worry into his life, but Holden couldn’t bring himself to do it. With the silence in his head and in the apartment, Holden could hear Six’s quickening breath and the clicking sound of him swallowing.
Six was nervous. Holden couldn’t sense it, but he could tell. And that realization set his own heart racing. How could a simple touch make this embodiment of masculinity nervous? They’d only held hands, and already Six was on edge.
Holden pushed Six against the wall. With their hands still linked, he pinned them over Six’s head and pressed their bodies together so tight he could feel everything. The hard lines and muscle, a faint waver of resistance falling away in favor of ragged inhales and an erection that dug into Holden’s thigh. Without the invisible antenna of his gift picking up signals from everything around them, every touch was intensified in a way Holden had never experienced. He felt anchored to the world. To Six.
After an uncharacteristic hesitation, he brought their lips together. The type of kiss you gave in the shadowy corner of a Sunday school, tentative and secret. He was giving Six an out he didn’t take.
Instead of turning his face and breaking the hold on his hands, Six leaned into the kiss with a groan. He sought Holden’s lips in the darkness and claimed them with a fierce neediness, sucking Holden’s lower lip into his mouth, then licking at it until he could explore the wet warmth inside. There were no practiced tongue strokes—just the hungry exploration of a man who’d gone without intimacy for way too long.
Holden released Six’s hands to dig his own fingers into that thick dark hair. It’d loosed from its knot, and now hung around his face wildly. Holden wished he could see it, and Six, without it being held back and controlled.
Their hearts pounded against each other, chests pressed just so in the exact spot to make it possible, and Holden wondered if he would have ever noticed that connection without the shield curtaining this escalating make-out session.
“You feel good,” Six said against his mouth.
“Then touch the rest of me.”
The command earned instant compliance. One of Six’s large hands cupped the back of Holden’s neck, while the other slid down between them. Six might have been unpracticed, but he seemed to know what he wanted. He went right for the belt, then the button and zipper, and had Holden’s pants sliding halfway off his ass so he could palm it. The hard squeeze caused heat to pool in Holden’s gut, and the way Six’s fingers dug in so tight they rubbed against Holden’s hole nearly weakened his knees. So, he was an ass guy. Holden was willing to bet his virgin handler was also a top.
“Tell me what you’ve been fantasizing about.”
“Fucking you.”
“I like that fantasy,” Holden breathed, jutting his hips against Six’s. “How do you fuck me?”
“What do you mean?”
“What position are we in?”
Six’s fingers squeezed tighter, as though the question had jolted him. “You’re on your hands and knees. I hold on to your shoulders and pound your ass while you jerk yourself off.”
“Mmm.” Holden licked Six’s lower lip and sighed with pleasure when Six chased him, desperate for more. “Is it rough? Gentle? Slow?”
“I try to go slow, but I can’t. Feels too good, and . . . I want it too bad.”
“What do you want?” Now it was Holden’s breath coming faster. He wondered if Six realized the effect his words were having, or if he thought this exchange of information was a matter of utility—What do you expect from this?
“I want to slide in you so deep and fuck you so hard that you stop thinking about the fact that your goddamn empath abilities don’t work on me. I won’t stop fucking you until you’re no longer capable of smirking, of smart comments, and the coherency to keep reaching out with your gift. Because I can feel you trying. Every time.”
“I can’t help it. Until you shielded me, I didn’t realize how automatic it is.”
“It’s second nature for you,” Six agreed. “But when I’m inside you, I want your second nature to be slamming back on my cock.”
An anguished moan slipped from Holden, and he attacked Six’s mouth with another kiss. This was definitely a man who knew what he wanted even though he’d never had the opportunity to act on those desires. It was a real shame, but Holden was happy to open the door to every sex act Six wanted to try. They might not fully trust each other when it came to the Community, but that could be put aside in the bedroom. This was just about them.
Holden stopped playing with Six’s hair and used his hands for more useful purposes—getting Six’s pants down. “Do you jerk off while you think about fucking me?”
“Yeah,” Six said, his voice scraping out thick and low.
“Do you say my name?”
A shudder went through Six, and it was the most glorious thing Holden had ever felt. The fact that he was capable of making this powerful, unflappable man unravel was everything that was good and right in the world. Maybe the only good and right thing that was left.
“Sometimes.”
Holden wrapped his hand around both their dicks and slowly stroked. “Will you today?”
Six’s groan penetrated a moment that had previously been so quiet it’d felt like a secret. “Yes.”
“God,” Holden whispered. “I’m trying to keep this light and fun, but you being blunt and no-bullshit is turning me on.”
Six’s chest quivered with a low throaty laugh. “I thought it usually pissed you off.”
“Oh, it does. You piss me off in general. But I like that you tell me exactly what you want.
”
“Good.” Six stepped away from the wall. “Because I want to have sex with you before someone calls one of us and screws up my chance.”
It wasn’t said with the certainty of a precog, but there was enough reality in it to ward Holden off this back-and-forth and drag Six toward his bedroom. Once they were inside, and he was guiding Six onto his bed, they both shed their shirts. Within a few seconds of impatiently disrobing, they were naked on the bed and completely wrapped in each other. They should have been on a fast track toward Six losing his V card somewhere in Holden’s ass, but they couldn’t stop kissing. Six cradled the back of Holden’s neck and worshiped his mouth until Holden’s dick was throbbing with a need for contact.
Holden went back to stroking them both as he lost himself in Six’s searching kisses. He enjoyed the stunning contrast between his usual psychically-infused sexual encounters and one that was enclosed in a protective bubble where there was nothing but physical touch and the taste and smell of another man.
“You ready?”
Six nodded and pulled back just enough for Holden to grab condoms and lubricant from his side table. Six put on the condom with trembling hands, while Holden rolled over to get on his hands and knees. One of those cool dry hands slid over his ass and up along his spine before repeating in a firm caress.
“Lube will let you slide in easier.”
“I know. I’m not completely oblivious.”
Smiling, Holden cradled his head in his arms. “Well, if all you’ve watched is porn . . . they don’t always show the prep.”
The click of the bottle uncapping was followed by a low hiss of breath. Holden craned his neck just in time to see Six slowly pumping his dick to smooth the lubricant over the thick length. He’d hunched forward with all that hair curtaining his face, although it was still possible to see his parted lips. His arousal was undeniable, but Holden forced himself to zero in on other things—the tightness in those shoulders, the harsh breathing, and hands that wouldn’t steady no matter what Six did.
“Hey,” Holden said quietly. “I know this is weird because you can’t feel how badly I want you, but I do. It doesn’t mean I trust you or the Community—” Six glanced up with a puckered brow “—but I can separate that enough to enjoy a thorough ride. Even if we’re enemies tomorrow, I won’t regret this unless you think you will.”
Oversight (The Community Book 2) Page 11
