Falling Into Darkness

by L. M. Brown

  Michael grumbled as Lucifer prodded him in the ribs until he got out of bed. “Are you going to tell me what’s so important I have to get up at this ridiculous hour of the morning?”

  “No,” Lucifer teased. “Besides, you used to wake this early on a regular basis, if I recall.”

  Michael slipped into his robes and shook his head. “That was when I had added incentive.”

  “And spending this glorious day with me isn’t incentive?” Lucifer stuck out his lower lip but couldn’t hold his pout for longer than a second or two before his easy smile reappeared.

  “It’s still night,” Michael pointed out.

  Lucifer ignored his complaining. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he whispered into Michael’s ear.

  Wide awake now, Michael let Lucifer lead him out of the house and up into the clear skies.

  Michael wasn’t sure where Lucifer was taking him at first, but as the trees opened up into a clearing, he recognized a place he hadn’t been to in years. Lucifer’s pool of jewels was still as beautiful as it had always been.

  The colored gemstones glittered in the water and on the walls of the cliff, sparkling in the light of the new dawn, casting rainbows in the pool.

  Lucifer stripped off his robes and dived into the water, surfacing for air a few moments later.

  Michael sat on the grass, a sack of peaches Lucifer had brought with them beside him.

  “Are you enjoying watching me?” Lucifer asked from where he trod water in the middle of the pool.

  Michael picked up a peach and took a bite. “Very much,” he called back, grinning widely.

  “Why don’t you come join me?” Lucifer suggested. He floated on his back, the morning sun casting a warm glow over his perfectly sculpted body.

  Michael didn’t need any further invitation. He set aside his half-eaten fruit, slipped off his robes, and joined Lucifer in the water. Lucifer met him in the middle of the pool, and when Michael swam into his arms, he knew they had finally come home.

  Also available from Pride Publishing:

  Heavenly Sins: Between Heaven and Hell

  L.M. Brown

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Tristan moved the computer mouse over the play button and clicked it. The video stream began with an out-of-focus shot of what appeared to be the carpet in the study. Then the image panned out and he saw the face on the screen. It was the face that stared back at him from the mirror, yet he had no recollection of making this recording. Of course, that had been the whole point, hadn’t it?

  “Er, hi,” the man on the screen said awkwardly. “I’m Tristan Garrett and in a matter of hours I’m going to lose my memory. But I guess you already know that.

  “Your parents and the rest of your relatives should believe you’re dead by now, so don’t go looking them up or anything like that. Your parents were…”

  Tristan watched himself falter on the screen.

  “Damn, this is pointless,” the recorded Tristan said. “I can’t tell you all about your life in just a few hours. There’d be stuff missing and it’d be like a half-written story with gaps and plot holes. So here’s the important stuff. The stuff you really need to know. It all started on Halloween night the year before last…”

  * * * *

  Tristan Garrett could feel the man’s eyes on him as he moved away from the bar. Like many of the men in The Inferno, the stranger had gone all out for Halloween and was the very image of a sexy, badass devil. He wore a pair of fake red horns atop his head. They poked out from his shoulder-length, ebony hair and the lights of the club caught them each time he turned to survey the crowded room.

  Tristan admired the way his tight leather trousers hugged his shapely arse, and his hands itched to trace the washboard abs that were only partially covered by the black vest.

  Tristan wasn’t the only man in the club following the devil’s movements. Several had approached him only to be turned away after barely a few seconds had passed. The direct approach didn’t seem to be working with this guy.

  “He’s out of your league,” teased Lawrence, Tristan’s best friend and former lover, when he caught Tristan checking out the devil for the third time in less than ten minutes.

  “No such thing,” Tristan replied lightly. “You’re the one who taught me to go after what I want and not let anyone tell me I’m not good enough for them.”

  Lawrence took a swig from his pint of beer before he answered. “Fifty quid says you can’t pull him.”

  Tristan watched as the devil rebuffed the latest man to approach him. The devil smiled in his direction and even though he hadn’t said a word, Tristan sensed he might have a chance if he were to try his luck.

  “I’ll take that bet,” Tristan replied quietly. He maintained eye contact with the devil as he slowly finished his beer and put the glass down on a nearby table. He nudged Lawrence toward the dance floor. They had played this game countless times, and it almost always worked. Lawrence led the way and Tristan followed. Molding their bodies together, Tristan’s back to Lawrence’s front, they began to slowly move in time to the pulsing beat of the music.

  Tristan closed his eyes and rested his head back on Lawrence’s shoulder, letting the taller man set the pace. He knew his fair-skinned looks and spiky strawberry blond hair were complemented by the contrast as he nestled against Lawrence’s dark hair and bulkier frame. He was a fit and healthy twenty-seven-year old, and while he wasn’t the best built guy in town, he knew how to draw attention to himself when he wanted to. Right now he wanted the attention of the devil focused on him. He wasn’t going to chase the other man to win the bet. The devil would come to him. He was absolutely sure of it.

  Lawrence whispered the devil’s movements in his ear. “He’s watching us. We’re turning him on. He’s watching me grinding my cock into your arse and wishing it was his.”

  Tristan moved back against Lawrence as his friend slowly rubbed his thighs, inching his fingers close to his groin. He guessed that within five minutes the devil would be approaching him, just as they had planned. The devil wouldn’t care he was with someone else right now—he’d step in and claim what he wanted, no matter who stood in his way. “Soon,” he whispered, as the slow beat of the music changed to a faster, insistent pace.

  Sure enough, just a few minutes later, a hand on his chest caused him to open his eyes. “May I cut in?” the stranger in front of him asked politely.

  Tristan blinked in surprise. It wasn’t the devil who stood before him. Instead, a blond Adonis had asked him to dance. Tristan stared into piercing blue eyes and nodded mutely. The man pulled him into his arms so they were dancing face-to-face and close enough for their erections to touch through the material of their jeans.

  “I’m Mac,” the dancer whispered into his ear.

  “Tristan,” Tristan replied when he finally found his voice.

  Lawrence seemed slightly unsure as he stepped away. Tristan shrugged and smiled. “Guess I owe you,” he said. The dark-haired devil had left his spot near the bar and had disappeared into the crowd. Tristan realized he must have misjudged his potential conquest. He should have kept eye contact with him.

  Still, the evening wasn’t a complete loss, not if he ended up going home with the hunk who was holding him close right now. The devil was forgotten as Tristan gave himself up to the music and the man who held him in his arms.

  * * * *

  The club lights came on, signaling closing time. Tristan and Mac finally left the dance floor and moved with the rest of the lingering clubbers toward the exit. They were nearly at the door when the devil from earlier in the evening stepped into their path. “You don’t play fair, Machidiel,” the devil said accusingly.

  Mac swung his arm around Tristan’s shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. Tristan recognized the move as the sign of possession it was. “Who’s playing?” Mac replied.

  “This isn’t one of your usual haunts.” The devil reached out to run a hand down Tristan’s
bare arm. “And this one isn’t your usual type.”

  Mac smiled down at Tristan. “He isn’t exactly your type either, now, is he?”

  The lights were brighter near the entrance, and Tristan could see the devil was wearing red contact lenses, completing the demonic look he had chosen to go for. Right now those eyes twinkled with amusement.

  Before he could speak, Mac steered him around the devil and out into the cool night air.

  “Tristan,” the devil called after them. “We have a date. Next Halloween.”

  Tristan looked back over his shoulder only once. A shiver ran down his spine at the intensity he saw in the glowing red eyes.

  How did the guy know his name?

  * * * *

  Tristan’s house was within walking distance and as aroused as he was, Tristan found himself thankful for the small blessing. No sooner had he closed the front door behind him than he was in Mac’s arms again.

  “Bedroom?” Mac whispered between kisses.

  Tristan pointed up the stairs. “Second on the right.”

  Mac nodded and picked Tristan up, pinning him against the wall. Tristan wrapped his legs around Mac’s waist, clinging on as they rubbed up against each other, the friction sending shivers throughout his body. He could see their reflections in the mirror on the opposite wall as he clung to his soon-to-be lover.

  “Too much,” Tristan gasped. “Gonna come. Can’t hold off.”

  “Then don’t,” Mac said as he pushed Tristan closer to his peak. “Come for me right now.”

  “Too soon.”

  “We’ve got all night. Come for me, Tristan.”

  Tristan locked his ankles and held on. He was so close. Just a little more and he’d be right there. The man in the mirror stared back at him. He didn’t recognize himself anymore. Did he always appear so wanton and desperate?

  Mac continued to grind against him, pushing him a little farther up the wall with each thrust. Then, when his chest was level with Mac’s head, Tristan gasped at the sharp sting of teeth biting down on his nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt.

  “Oh fuck!” he screamed as he felt the hot flood of release in his briefs.

  Mac held him tightly in place against the wall as he came down from his high. “Shall we take this to the bedroom?”

  Tristan nodded into Mac’s neck, but he couldn’t seem to summon enough energy to move any more than that.

  With a breathless chuckle and apparent lack of effort, Mac carried Tristan in his arms as he navigated the stairs and made his way into the bedroom.

  He placed Tristan carefully on the end of the bed and stood back to consider him.

  “You don’t usually do one-night stands, do you?” Mac asked.

  Tristan shook his head. Although his relationships were always of short duration, that was never his intention when going into them. He wanted something lasting longer than a few weeks or months—he always had. It wasn’t his fault something always seemed to go wrong. Mac’s question caused a pang of discomfort in his chest. “Is that what this is?”

  “I don’t really do relationships, at least not anymore.” Mac glanced toward the window overlooking the rather overgrown back garden. “If you’re yearning for something more than tonight, then perhaps we should reconsider.”

  Tristan thought he’d had his fill of one-night stands in college. He was older and wiser now. He was too old to be screwing round with a different bloke every weekend. He’d been searching for the right man to start a proper relationship with for a while now. It seemed Mac wasn’t as interested in him as he’d hoped.

  “Maybe I should leave,” Mac said quietly. He was already turning back toward the door.

  “Wait,” Tristan called after him. Maybe he could convince Mac to stick around for longer than a single night. Sometimes it just took finding the right person before someone was ready to begin a relationship. If he let him go now, he’d never know if they could have had something more. Tristan reached for Mac’s hand and drew him down onto the bed. He was grateful for Mac’s honesty, and he had no intention of letting him go tonight, not without tasting those lips and feeling Mac’s body taking his own.

  “Just one night,” he agreed, even as he secretly hoped for more.

  Mac’s face lit up and he bared his perfect white teeth with a wide smile.

  Tristan slowly removed his clothes, leaving his sticky briefs until last. Mac, still fully dressed, barely gave him time to remove them before he descended on his cock, licking at the already drying semen.

  Tristan sank back onto the mattress as Mac worked magic with his tongue. “Oh, God, right there,” he cried.

  Mac gave him a mock scowl. “Leave him out of this,” he said with a snort before dipping his head down again and taking Tristan’s length in his mouth.

  Tristan eased himself up onto his elbows so he could see his erection disappearing between Mac’s increasingly swollen lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he had become aroused again so quickly after coming.

  Mac met his gaze as he continued to suck him with an almost agonizing slowness. Oh God, he couldn’t watch any longer. He had to close his eyes or he’d come again right now. Dropping his head back onto the pillow, Tristan lay panting on the bed.

  If his voice hadn’t momentarily deserted him, Tristan would have begged for more. Instead, he had to find another way to make his needs known. He reached down between his legs and grasped Mac’s hand, guiding it where he so desperately wanted to feel his touch.

  Mac caught his meaning immediately and Tristan felt a finger pressing just the tiniest way into his hole. He pushed down against it and groaned as the digit slipped inside.

  “Fuck me!” Tristan begged. “Need you in me. Please, Mac!”

  The warmth of Mac’s mouth disappeared from his dick and he pulled out the finger he had been probing him with. Mac stripped off his clothes and tossed them to the floor. Then he stood before Tristan so he could take a good, long look at him.

  The body before him was perfectly sculpted, and the muscles rippled with every movement Mac made. Had he been cast in stone he would not have been out of place amongst the Greek statues portraying the Olympians—the only difference being this man was very much alive. Tristan had already had a taste of the strength Mac was capable of and he wanted more. Mac’s long blond hair stretched down his back, while the fringe fell into his eyes. He peeked at Tristan almost shyly from beneath his eyelashes. Blond hair also matted his broad chest and a treasure trail led down to the large uncut cock jutting out toward him.

  Damn, he wanted Mac to take him right now. Tristan pointed toward the bedside table. “Top drawer,” he said. Mac smiled, reached in and pulled out a box of condoms and a bottle of lube. He rolled the sheath on and quickly slicked himself up as Tristan shifted farther up the bed and reached behind him to grasp hold of the iron railings of the headboard.

  Mac crawled back down the mattress and settled himself between Tristan’s legs. Tristan let him nudge his knees farther apart and spread himself wide.

  Tristan drew in a sharp breath at the heat in Mac’s eyes as he licked his lips, dove between Tristan’s legs then swiped his tongue around his balls.

  “Would you…?” Tristan couldn’t find the words to finish his sentence. It didn’t matter. Mac knew what he wanted, and with a gentle pat on Tristan’s hip he coaxed him onto his stomach.

  On his hands and knees a moment later, Tristan raised his arse to give Mac the access he needed. Warm breath teased his buttocks before gentle fingers pushed them apart and Mac teasingly licked his most intimate entrance. Tristan gave an involuntary squeak when Mac pushed his tongue inside. He’d only ever been rimmed a couple of times. None of the men he’d been with had been particularly enthusiastic about that kind of foreplay. Mac, on the other hand, not only eagerly rimmed him but he sure as hell knew what he was doing.

  Tristan moaned low in his throat as he pushed back against the intrusion. “Mac, please,” he begged.

  Mac seem
ed to know he was nearing his peak again and pulled back just long enough for Tristan to roll over onto his back once more.

  “Now,” Tristan whispered, prompting Mac to slide his dick home with one powerful thrust.

  “Fuck!” Tristan screamed as he raised his hips from the mattress, straining to take all Mac had to give.

  “My pleasure,” Mac replied as he pulled out slightly before slamming back in again.

  “Oh God,” Tristan cried out. He clung to the railings of the headboard until Mac changed position again, leaning over him, and Tristan reached out to grasp Mac’s biceps instead.

  Mac had the most amazing stamina. Tristan had no doubt if he had been topping he’d have come already, but Mac was still pounding into him, over and over, without even breaking a sweat.

  Tristan wanted to see him lose control. He wanted to hear him scream as he came. He clenched his buttocks around the thick cock in his arse and reveled in Mac’s shiver, the first sign of his lover starting to lose his composure. “Gonna make you scream,” Tristan told him. “Scream so loud they’ll hear you a mile away.”

  Mac laughed as he pulled nearly all the way out before ramming his way home once more. “I never lose control like that.”

  Tristan considered perhaps it was about time he did. While he might not have Mac’s seemingly endless stamina, he wasn’t exactly unfit. He hoped he could continue going long enough to keep up with Mac and push him over the brink.

  He reached down and grabbed his penis at the base, applying enough pressure to stop himself from coming again. He wouldn’t let himself come before Mac did. He wrapped his legs around Mac and pulled him close. “Scream for me,” Tristan shouted between thrusts.

  Tristan’s legs began to slip and he realized Mac was starting to sweat along with him. “Oh fuck, Mac!”

  “Tris-tan,” Mac responded, his voice breaking slightly.

  “Yes!” Tristan cried. “God yes!”