Beholden

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by Kris T. Bethke


  Syracuse was a fairly large city, with a lot of twisting side roads and one-way streets. When I’d first moved here, after taking a position with DEMA eight years ago, I’d spent much of my time mostly lost. But Caldwell seemed to know exactly where he was going. Either he was a native or had a superb sense of direction. At that moment, I didn’t really care which.

  DEMA was situated within a vast network of buildings encompassing two square blocks of downtown. I lived on the north side of the city, an easy ten to fifteen-minute drive. The lights were in our favor, and eight minutes later, we pulled into the driveway of my house. I lived in the downstairs portion of a two-family home. I made enough that I probably could have bought my own house, but renting was easier.

  It took me two tries to find the door handle, then a ridiculous amount of effort to push open the door. I sat for a few seconds, gathering my resolve, before I pulled myself to my feet. Caldwell stood there, hands out like he expected me to fall and was ready to catch me. I rolled my eyes. At least, I intended to. Even my muscles there were tired. I trudged up the walk, nearly whimpered at the sight of the four steps onto the porch, but finally made it to the front door. My hand actually shook as I raised the key to the lock. Caldwell made an impatient noise and took the key from me.

  “You can go now.” I meant to sound terse. It came out sounding weary.

  He gave a small snort, apparently amused. The door swung open, and he guided me inside. I kicked off my shoes at the edge of the living room and struggled out of my jacket. When Caldwell helped pull it from where it had gotten caught on my hands, I actually managed a bit of a glare.

  “Just let me help you, Julian,” he said.

  The sound of my name on his lips did funny things to my insides, and I had to bite my lip to keep a whimper from escaping. Gods, why did he have to be so sexy and chivalrous when I was at my worst? If we’d been in a different situation, I would have tried to seduce him right into my bed. But I was too worn out to even think about it.

  “How are you going to get home?” I asked as I tugged on the collar of my Henley. I needed to undo the top button so I could pull the shirt over my head.

  “I’ll use a transportation spell once you’re locked in and settled.” I heard a note of amusement in his tone.

  I shook my head. It had been a rather stupid question. I sometimes forgot that other practitioners weren’t as limited. I couldn’t do those things, and when drained like this, I easily forgot that almost everyone else with a bit of power could. It was a clear indication that I needed Caldwell gone before I did something asinine.

  I gasped when Caldwell tugged my shirt over my head with one smooth movement. “Where’s your bedroom?’

  I shuddered. He couldn’t be asking what I thought he was asking. It had to be my own wishful thinking. “W-what?”

  He gave me a patient smile. “I’m going to make sure you get there without falling over, and then I’ll leave you to sleep.”

  “Right, yeah.” I felt like an idiot. My cheeks heated and I averted my gaze, motioning vaguely toward the back of the house. Caldwell swept out one arm, indicating I should lead the way. I shambled in that direction, acutely aware of his presence behind me. Gods, how I wished he was taking me to bed for an entirely different reason.

  I managed to make it the length of the house and into my room without doing or saying anything else embarrassing. Once I caught sight of my bed and the rumpled sheets, I nearly wept with relief. I didn’t even bother taking off my pants, just collapsed onto the bed with a happy sigh and curled up on my side. I thought I heard Caldwell chuckle when he pulled the blanket up to my shoulders, and I nestled into that perfect spot.

  I was certain I was dreaming when I felt a soft kiss on my brow and heard the whispered words, “Sleep well, Julian.”

  Chapter 3

  I slept for twelve hours straight and the bruises had mostly faded, but I was still tired. I frowned. This had never happened to me before. At least, not to this extent. I usually ended the day bruised and fatigued, but it was never so bad that a good night’s rest couldn’t fix it. I gave a negligent shrug and dragged myself to the shower. I figured it was the result of a work-intensive day coupled with the influx of power from Agent Caldwell, and that I’d be back to normal in a day or two.

  Agent Caldwell. For all that I’d been wary of letting him escort me home, he’d proven to be kind and courteous underneath that gruff exterior. That, of course, only added to his appeal. I was a sucker for the stoic guy with a mushy center. Not only was he my type physically, but he was turning out to have a personality that matched my likes as well. It was probably a good thing I was unlikely to see him again, because if we had to interact on a regular basis, I’d be headed for a huge crush.

  Still, he was on my mind as I entered my office. I was only thirty-seven minutes late. I counted that as a win, considering I’d never been late a single time in the eight years I’d worked for DEMA. I figured no one would judge me for the indiscretion. Or for the fact that I was daydreaming about a certain Investigations agent while I prepared for my work day.

  I still didn’t know his first name. I could find out easily enough, with just a little bit of digging. But I found myself reluctant to do so. I didn’t want to cement him anymore in my mind. If I kept him firmly in the “agent” box, then I would hopefully keep my burgeoning crush at bay. I was too old for such nonsense. I had work to do, and I needed all my focus to do it. Dividing even a bit of attention for the hot agent did not serve anyone.

  My inbox was once again full. I gave a weary sigh as I sat at my desk and began to sort through the requests, prioritizing which ones needed to be completed first. Normally, I enjoyed this task. Just getting organized for my day gave me a sense of peace. But even that seemed to take energy and focus I didn’t have this morning. Frustrated with myself, I took a deep breath, centered my thoughts, and got to work.

  I wasn’t exactly surprised when, several hours later, I found my magic beginning to wane. I could usually work an entire twelve-hour day without starting to feel the effects. Knowing how I’d felt when I woke up this morning, it seemed perfectly logical that after just a few hours of intensive work, things would get difficult. I finished my current task—looking for a lost scroll for the head librarian—then pushed back from my desk. I drank deeply from my water bottle, and took three cleansing breaths. On the small area rug in front of the couch in the corner, I sat cross-legged on the floor and closed my eyes. A bit of meditation to pull more power from the ether and replenish my supply and I’d once again be ready to work. I would fill out my reports later.

  A knock at the door startled me out of my contemplative state. I jerked so hard I almost fell over, my heart pounding as adrenaline from the scare poured through my veins. I so rarely got visitors that a knock was always a surprise. It took me a few seconds to haul myself off the floor, but I was glad to realize I felt better and more alert.

  After crossing the room, I lifted my hand to the mirror beside the door in order to scry. I hadn’t even laid my fingers on the smooth surface before my visitor called out.

  “Julian?”

  A shiver skated up my spine. I’d know that deep, resonant voice anywhere. Gods, had I met him only yesterday?

  I laid my hand on the door and released the wards before yanking it open. Agent Caldwell looked even better today. His snug jeans clung to his muscled thighs, but not indecently. His shirt fit to his broad shoulders. He looked delicious. I think I licked my lips.

  His gaze traveled the length of my body before settling on my face. “You look tired.”

  “What can I do for you, Agent Caldwell?” I asked, proud my voice didn’t shake with the lust suddenly shooting through my veins. If it happened to be a bit deeper than normal, well, I couldn’t exactly help that.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Can I come in?”

  I nodded and stepped back, allowing him to enter. Just like the day before, his gaze immediately swept the confines of my
small office. I got the impression he was used to looking for threats and wasn’t comfortable until he assured himself all was well with his surroundings. He exuded power and confidence, and I could tell he liked to have control of the situation. That thought caused my mind to go to a completely sexual place, and I quickly dismissed it. Now was not the time to be thinking such things.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a social call. I needed to find out what the man wanted and send him on his way before I did something inappropriate. Like climb him like a tree.

  “Max and I are headed out in a little bit to find Roberts,” Caldwell said after a long moment. “I wanted to see you before I left.”

  My heart started beating double time. He couldn’t mean what I thought he meant. “Max?” I questioned, trying to get my errant thoughts back on track.

  “Agent Dreswick.” His tone made it clear that it should’ve been obvious.

  I nodded, filing away that piece of information. “Well, I can assure you that what I told you yesterday evening is accurate. But I can scry again, if that’s what you want.”

  He stared at me for a long, intense minute. Then a hint of a smile quirked his lips. “That’s not why I’m here.”

  “O-oh?” My breathing stuttered along with my heart.

  His grin became a bit wicked, and his eyes turned to liquid blue as I watched. “You look tired,” he repeated.

  Damn. He was checking in on me only after my weak display yesterday. I shook my head ruefully. “It was a power-intensive day yesterday. I’ll be fine, but yes, I am tired.”

  He stared at me hard, then dropped his gaze to where his fingers trailed along the edge of my desk. After a moment, he looked right into my eyes. “I can help you with that,” he said, his words heavy with meaning.

  Except he couldn’t mean what I thought he was implying. There was no reason for him to be thinking those thoughts. A man like him could have anyone he wanted. And he couldn’t possibly want a bookish, somewhat reclusive basement dweller. I told my brain not to read too much into it.

  He must have seen my thought process on my face, because his grin turned salacious as he rounded the desk to stand in my personal space. Slowly, as if afraid I would pull away, he cupped my jaw in his hand. When I allowed the touch, he gave a soft, sexy chuckle.

  “Yeah,” he said, almost to himself. He stepped closer, his other hand cradling my face, tilting it up so he could look right into my eyes. His intention was clear. “Let me help you feel less tired.”

  Sex was an excellent way to share power between practitioners. All those acres of skin pressed together, emotions running high even if only lust, lots of touching and contact. It was inevitable that power would flow between two people in that instance. It was also one of the most effective, longest-lasting ways to recharge. I knew several practitioners who had arrangements with each other to take care of those needs in the most enjoyable way. But I didn’t want to do it just because Caldwell thought he should help me with my fatigue. And he was giving me mixed signals.

  He started to lean down, but I stopped him with a hand on his chest. For a moment, the hard muscle of his pectoral beneath my palm distracted me. Then I shook my head and got serious. I squinted. “Wait a sec. Are you saying that just to help me?”

  He appeared confused. But after a few seconds, his expression cleared, then turned lustful. “Can’t get you out of my head, Julian. Those changeable eyes of yours. Those long, pretty lashes. Your mouth…” he trailed off with a tiny groan. The sound caused a shiver to race along my spine. Then he added, his tone serious, “You want it, too. I know you do. But tell me to back off and I will.”

  He wanted me. Though a part of my brain couldn’t believe it, my libido firmly took control and told the skeptical part of my mind to shut the hell up. Even if it would be a one-off, I could have him. That was all my dick cared about. I took my own step closer in, bringing us together until we touched from chest to knees. I swallowed hard at his lecherous answering smile.

  Once again, he leaned in. But once again, I stopped him. I needed to know something before we got physical. “What’s your name?”

  He looked at me in disbelief. For a long moment, he didn’t answer. I tried to decide if I could allow him liberties with my body if he wouldn’t give me his first name. I wasn’t the kind of guy who usually did casual hook-ups, but I might have changed my mind for him.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to. His brow creased, but he answered. “Wes.”

  I cocked my head as much as I was able in his tight hold. The name didn’t exactly suit him. But that wasn’t his fault, I supposed. Maybe it was a family name. I grinned in a playful manner. “Can I call you Wesley?”

  He scowled. “Not if you want me to answer.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Wes,” I said, both to acknowledge his request and to try out his name on my lips.

  That seductive grin returned as he lowered his head. Very deliberately, he touched his lips to mine. I gave a soft sigh, opening for him. He growled, the sound reverberating against my mouth and in my chest, and kissed me hard. I let him devour me, loving that he took control. I wasn’t a passive lover, but I liked being led. Whether Wes picked up on that or this was the kind of person he was, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. It was exactly what I wanted from him. When he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled our bodies flush, I nearly melted right on the spot. My knees went weak when I felt his answering hardness against my lower stomach. He evidently wanted this as much as I did.

  Wes broke the kiss to nuzzle his lips along my jaw. He found that sensitive patch behind my ear, and an involuntary wanton moan escaped my throat. He must have liked it, because he ground his cock against me and panted wetly against my skin.

  “Want you,” he growled.

  I nodded fast and pushed against his shoulders, trying to get him to move across the office to the couch. He pulled back, a look of surprise on his face. He must have misinterpreted my action.

  I grinned as seductively as I knew how and inclined my head toward the corner. “Couch is better than standing up.”

  He moved fast, tugging me behind him. He sat on the couch, then pulled me onto his lap so I straddled his thighs. I looked down into his handsome face. With one finger, I traced his kiss-swollen lips and smiled. “Better, right?”

  He whipped my shirt over my head when I lifted my arms. “Getting there.”

  I laughed and set to work on his buttons. “Don’t want this to get wrinkled,” I murmured, pressing my lips to his as I slid the dress shirt from his shoulders. He lifted up and let me pull it off him. I leaned sideways for a moment to drape the shirt over the far arm of the couch so it would stay crease-free, and loved the way he held onto my hips as if he didn’t want me to get too far away. Task complete, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed our chests together. He had a light smattering of hair on his pecs and down his sternum, and I gave a decadent moan at the feel of it. He really did press every one of my hot buttons.

  His hands wiggled their way between our bodies, and he unlatched the hook of my pants and slid down the zipper. His big and warm hand cupped me through my briefs. I pulled back from the kiss with a gasp, panting against his mouth.

  “Feels good,” I murmured, pushing into his touch.

  His chuckle sounded of pure sex. “About to feel even better.”

  With a quick tug, he had my pants and briefs down around my thighs, then he wrapped his fingers around my length. I threw back my head, moaned, and thrust into his hand. It always amazed me how someone else’s touch felt so much better than my own. It had been too long since I’d felt that, and I couldn’t stop myself from arching into his tight hold. Wes seemed to have found the perfect grip right from the get-go.

  “You look so good like this,” he murmured, his lips attaching to my collarbone. He gave a nip with his teeth, then soothed the sting with a swipe of his tongue. My breath caught and my brain engaged
.

  I fumbled to get him out of his pants. As soon as I unzipped his jeans, his cock practically leapt into my hand. He wore no underwear, ridiculously sexy. I pulled back to look at his long and thick cock.

  “So pretty,” I muttered, exploring it with my fingers.

  He snorted a chuckle. “You think my dick is pretty?”

  I nodded emphatically. “So nice. All flushed and hard and silky. Love having it in my hand.”

  He grasped my wrist and pulled my hand away from him. I whined in protest, but he just smiled and used his grip on my ass to pull us even closer together. Then he reached between us, lining us up and wrapping his hand around both our cocks.

  “How’s this?” he asked with another growl.

  I answered with a drawn-out moan. It felt so good, having him pressed against me like that. He started slowly, getting a feel for it, but when I thrust a little, he picked up speed. His grip tight and perfect, I quickly approached the edge. I wanted him to make me come. He seemed to have the same goal in mind. He used his free hand to cup the back of my head and pulled me toward his mouth.

  “Come on, Jules,” he murmured against my lips. “Give it to me. Come all over my cock. And when you do, I’ll follow.”

  I gave a sharp cry as my balls drew up, then emptied all over his hand. He kept jacking, his motion speeding up even further until he, too, found his release. He gave a wordless shout as his come joined the mess.

  For several minutes, we panted against each other. Finally, with a sated sigh, I slid to the side. My left leg remained draped over his knees, and I didn’t have the energy to move it. But it was just because of the great release. I could already feel my fatigue had lessened. In fact, I bordered on euphoric.

  With a few quietly spoken words, Wes cleaned himself with a cleansing spell. All traces of our activities vanished in a blink of an eye. I felt strangely disappointed he could so easily erase me from him. I wasn’t exactly a territorial kind of guy, but I sort of liked knowing I had marked him in a primal way. The rational part of my mind argued that I couldn’t expect him to walk around covered in my come, so I let the disappointment go. Since I didn’t have his abilities, I’d have to get up and clean myself in the conventional way, though. But as I started to figure out the best way to get up without making matters worse, I saw he’d included me in the spell as well. That was thoughtful of him. I lifted my hips enough so I could tuck myself into my pants and briefs.

 

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