by Pearl Love
They fumbled with each other’s clothes, the act of undressing hampered by their mutual disinclination to let go long enough to accomplish the task. Jeremy lost himself in the feel of Tyrell’s tongue as it invaded his mouth. Tyrell was an incredible kisser, and Jeremy tried not to think about Shaunteé and all the other girls he had probably kissed in his life. All that mattered was that he was the one Tyrell had chosen to be with at that moment.
Tyrell never ceased the movement of his fingers. He used his other hand to tug at the waist of Jeremy’s jeans. Jeremy didn’t help since he was too busy pulling Tyrell’s down over his lean hips. After a few awkward, fumbling seconds, they were able to kick free of their pants, leaving only their shirts and underwear.
“Nnnngg! Shit, I want to fuck you.”
Jeremy whimpered at the suggestive growl. “Have you ever done this before?” He couldn’t bring himself to add the caveat with a girl.
Tyrell grunted a negative as he sucked at Jeremy’s throat until he began to squirm. Relief flooded through Jeremy at the wordless response. While he would never have held it against Tyrell, he was thrilled to know that they would be each other’s first. That it would happen was not a question. He wanted Tyrell desperately, wanted to take that final step to seal their connection in the most permanent way he could imagine. The pressure against his skin from Tyrell’s lips was delicious, and he wondered if he’d end up with a hickey. The thought filled him with both embarrassment and joy that everyone would be able to know just by looking at him that they had taken their relationship to the next level. He spread his thighs farther apart so Tyrell could get closer, and Tyrell took the hint, moving his hips so their erections rubbed together, separated only by their briefs.
“Shirt,” Jeremy moaned. “Off.”
Tyrell obliged, kneeling up and pulling his shirt off over his head while Jeremy did the same with his own. Jeremy was faster, and he was treated to the sight of Tyrell’s lean torso as Tyrell reached his arms up to finish removing his shirt. He bit his lip, stifling a moan of approval. His hands moved without his conscious instruction, sliding reverently up the tempting expanse of dark skin.
Tyrell tossed his shirt to the floor and grinned when he could finally return Jeremy’s awed stare. “You look like one of those Italian paintings we studied in art. You’re so pale,” he said, his tone breathless with delight. “Do you even tan?”
Jeremy’s chuckle became a squeak when Tyrell ran his fingers over one of his nipples. “Ahh! No, I burn unless I’m wearing a ton of sunscreen.”
Tyrell smiled. “Then we’ll just have to keep all this pretty skin covered up. Works for me.” His eyes darkened. “I don’t want anyone else looking at you anyway. You’re all mine.”
Jeremy shivered at the possessive declaration. “Yes,” he mumbled before closing his eyes to better appreciate the sensation of Tyrell’s gaze roaming over him. He had moved far beyond shyness and arched his back, almost preening beneath the gentle caress of Tyrell’s hands. When he suddenly felt the wet heat of a tongue against his nipple, he cried out with unrepentant pleasure. He ran his fingers over the tight curls of Tyrell’s hair, holding him close in unspoken encouragement.
The hum of their resonance was a near constant presence whenever they were together, but now it increased in strength as though responding to their heightening desire. Jeremy thought at first that the slight tremor he felt was from his own trembling body, but slowly he realized the bed was actually shaking. He eased his hands down Tyrell’s back until he was able to slide them beneath his briefs and over his ass.
Tyrell raised up, and Jeremy opened his eyes to meet Tyrell’s gaze.
“Are you sure about this?” Tyrell asked.
Jeremy shook his head. “No, but I want to anyway.”
Tyrell’s smile was fond as he brushed a strand of hair away from Jeremy’s face. “I wasn’t exactly anticipating this. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” Jeremy insisted.
“Your faith in me is flattering.” Tyrell’s cheeks darkened with color, drawing Jeremy’s fascinated gaze. “But honestly, I have no clue what I’m doing.”
Jeremy pouted. “You want to stop?” He knew he was whining like a little kid, but he felt like Tyrell had just threatened to cancel Christmas.
“Hell, no,” Tyrell said emphatically, “but I don’t want to rush into this.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against Jeremy’s in a featherlight kiss. “I want everything to be perfect.”
Jeremy was afraid he was actually about to cry at the sweet sentiment. He sniffed and blushed when Tyrell smiled at him knowingly. “So what do you suggest?”
Tyrell answered by hooking his fingers in Jeremy’s shorts and slowly pulling them down past his hips. Jeremy moaned as his erection sprang free and slapped against his stomach.
“I thought you said we shouldn’t—”
“There’s other stuff we can do,” Tyrell murmured. He twisted as he removed his own briefs and then lay back down full-length against Jeremy. “Do you trust me?” he asked between teasing pecks at Jeremy’s lips.
Jeremy nodded as much as he dared, not wanting to spoil Tyrell’s effort. “Mmm-hmm.” He parted his lips, hoping Tyrell would take the hint.
“Good.”
As Tyrell kissed him deeply, Jeremy toed off his shorts until he could kick them away. Unencumbered, he let his knees fall to either side and gasped when he felt the wet slide of Tyrell’s cock against his own. He bucked helplessly.
“Oh God!”
Tyrell snorted. “If you insist.”
Jeremy dug his fingers into Tyrell’s shoulders in retaliation. “Idiot!” he groaned. “Nnnngg! Don’t stop!”
“Never,” Tyrell reassured him in a deep growl Jeremy felt to his toes.
They moved together, the bedsheet shifting with them until it pulled free of the corner of the mattress. Jeremy brought his legs up and folded them around Tyrell’s hips to pull him even closer. Tyrell buried his face in Jeremy’s neck and grunted his approval. He began licking at the sensitive spot he’d raised previously until Jeremy was torn between pushing him away and begging him to mark him all over.
“Shit, do you feel that?” Tyrell asked.
What didn’t he feel? Every nerve ending was standing at attention. His skin was unbearably hot and covered in a sheen of sweat, making him all the more able to appreciate the dueling sensations of the hot slide of Tyrell’s body against his and of his against Tyrell.
“What?” he finally managed.
“The whole room is shaking.”
Jeremy wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he instantly realized Tyrell was telling the truth. The books they’d knocked off the bed were skipping across the floor, and the door rattled on its hinges. The desk had shifted away from the wall, and the windows hummed as the glass vibrated.
“Holy shit,” he breathed in disbelief. “Are we doing this?”
Tyrell threaded their fingers together and pressed their hands back against the pillow to either side of Jeremy’s head. “I think so. God, I love you. Don’t break my house!”
Jeremy laughed and whimpered as Tyrell picked up the pace. His groin was burning from the friction, which was eased only slightly by the fluid leaking from both of their erections. He could feel his orgasm rushing toward him, bearing down like an avalanche waiting to bury him in ecstasy. At his age, he was certainly no stranger to his own hand, but being with Tyrell made everything so much more intense.
“I’m gonna—” he moaned in warning before Tyrell cut him off with a kiss.
“Wait for me,” Tyrell begged when he released Jeremy’s lips. “Just a little… fuck!”
Jeremy felt Tyrell go rigid against him an instant before warmth burst out onto his stomach. Tyrell’s climax triggered his own, and he howled as his balls squeezed up against his body. “Tyrell!” he cried out as he added to the spattering of viscous white that coated his stomach.
The shaking quieted unt
il all Jeremy could hear was the rasping of their breath and the slowing pound of his heartbeat. The music in his head subsided until all that remained was a ringing sound. “Is that your phone?”
“Shit,” Tyrell groaned. He let out a moan of frustration before heaving himself off Jeremy and rolling to the side.
Jeremy lay motionless as he watched Tyrell reach down and pick up his jeans. Tyrell fished his phone out of his pocket and accepted the call just before it was sent to voice mail.
“What?” he asked testily. In the next instant, a look of confusion crossed his face. “Coach Stanley?”
Who? Jeremy mouthed.
“Hey, Coach, let me put you on speaker.” Tyrell pushed against the screen of his phone. “Now what was that about Kevin?”
“I said, why is he late? The game is supposed to start in five minutes, and he’s still not here.”
Jeremy realized this must be the coach for Kevin’s Little League team. He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and frowned. If anyone was late, it was them. They had planned to leave fifteen minutes ago before getting distracted.
Tyrell’s expression was grim. “He left nearly two hours ago, Coach. What do you mean he’s not there?”
“That’s odd.” Coach Stanley paused. “Do you think he could have stopped off somewhere on the way?”
“I don’t know why he would,” Tyrell replied. “He was eager to get to the field for warm-ups.”
Jeremy knew Tyrell had the same thought at the exact moment he did. Tyrell’s terror hit him like a punch right as Tyrell turned to stare at him with a look of horror on his face. Jeremy’s heart plunged into his stomach. Maybe Mr. Crabtree and his mysterious friends hadn’t been wrong about the aluuku attacking during a sporting event. They’d just been wrong about which one.
“Oh my God,” Jeremy breathed.
“I’ll go look for him right away, Coach.” Tyrell’s voice was tight, and Jeremy could see the muscles in his jaw twitch as he clenched his teeth.
“Thanks, Tyrell.”
“You don’t think—” Jeremy began hesitantly after Tyrell ended the call, fearful of voicing his thoughts lest it made them come true.
Tyrell scrambled to his feet and tugged on his jeans before reaching for his discarded T-shirt. “Call Mr. Crabtree and tell him to meet us in Jackson Park.”
Jeremy followed suit, using the sheet to wipe away the mess on his stomach before crawling to the foot of the bed where he’d shucked his jeans. “He’s okay, Tyrell. I know he’s okay.” He swallowed, forcing down the lump that threatened to choke him. “He has to be.”
Tyrell didn’t respond. Jeremy wanted to hold him, but they were out of time. Until now, the aluuku danger had been present but distant. Now that someone close to them was in trouble, it all seemed so much more real.
He followed Tyrell as he raced from the room, grateful he’d driven to Tyrell’s place. His hands were trembling, and he hoped he could get them to the baseball field without crashing them into a tree.
Chapter THIRTY-TWO
“I’M AFRAID you’re right.” The tension in Mr. Crabtree’s voice came through clearly even over the speaker in Jeremy’s phone. “Where are you two right now?”
Tyrell glanced out the window. He was holding the cell up so both he and Jeremy could be heard while Jeremy drove. “We’re just entering the park. If the aluuku intercepted Kevin on his way to the field, do you think they could still be here?” Do you think my little brother is still alive? He couldn’t bear to voice the question out loud for fear that would make it true.
“I don’t know, Tyrell. Why don’t you guys drive around and look for him while I head your way? It will take me a little while to get there. Don’t do anything rash before I do,” he cautioned.
“We’ll be careful,” Jeremy replied. He glanced over at Tyrell, his face pale as his apprehension only heightened Tyrell’s fear.
Tyrell disconnected the call and clenched his hand around the phone. “It would take Kevin less than half an hour to walk here. That fucking thing could have taken him anywhere by now.”
“He’s here,” Jeremy said bluntly.
Tyrell gazed at his profile, wanting him to be right. “How do you know?” he forced himself to ask.
“Because he has to be. Why would the aluuku take him away from here when the real prize is at the baseball field?”
Tyrell tried to take heart in Jeremy’s logic, but the worry knotting his stomach was overwhelming. “Why attack now, though, instead of back at the Homecoming game? Sure they’ll be kids there today, but not nearly as many.” He exhaled sharply in frustration. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Unless….”
Tyrell stared at Jeremy when he didn’t continue. “Unless what?” he asked before suddenly realizing what Jeremy was thinking. “Unless it’s because Kevin’s my brother. Is that what you were going to say?”
Jeremy looked profoundly uncomfortable but nodded anyway. “What if those things are not only trying to lure us out, but are trying to hurt us?”
“But that would mean—”
“They’re sentient. Monsters with a brain.”
Tyrell curled his fingers into painfully tight fists, the notion scaring him nearly as much as the thought that Kevin was in danger. “Jesus. So what now? Do we drive around and hope we see them? Or should we get out and search on foot.”
“Extend your senses. If the aluuku is attacking, we’ll be able to feel it.”
“Right.” Tyrell took a deep breath and reached out even though he was terrified to think what it would mean if he succeeded. If one of those things had Kevin, they had to find him before it was too late. There was simply no other option.
“Which way should I go?” Jeremy asked as he approached the boundary of Jackson Park proper.
“The game is on the field at the southeast edge of the park,” Tyrell said. “Turn right on Cornell Avenue.”
Jeremy complied and drove as slowly as he dared. Tyrell stared into the trees off to their left, hoping to catch even the smallest hint of where his brother might be. Minutes passed without him feeling anything, and his frustration mounted.
“Don’t give up.” Jeremy reached over and covered his hand. They were approaching a fork. “Should I keep going straight?”
“No. The field is off toward the lake.”
Jeremy turned left onto a side street, which angled off to the southeast before splitting into a turn and through lane.
“Now keep straight,” Tyrell instructed as they approached Richards Drive. He leaned forward and peered out the front windshield. The blue waters of the Inner Harbor stretched off to their right while the trees progressed in an unbroken line on the left. “The field is through there,” he said, pointing to the trees.
Jeremy suddenly slammed on the brakes. Tyrell jerked forward, grateful for his seat belt and that no cars were behind them.
“What’s wrong? Did you see something?”
“Over there.” Jeremy stared in the direction Tyrell had indicated.
The field was obscured behind the tree line, and Tyrell couldn’t see anything else. “What was it? Was it Kevin?”
“No. Not unless he’s wearing something bright pink.”
“Pink?” Tyrell frowned. “His uniform is blue and white. He was wearing it when he left the apartment, remember?”
“Yeah, so I don’t know what I saw, but whatever it was, I have a bad feeling.”
“Then let’s go,” Tyrell urged. “Pull off up ahead. There’s a parking lot over there where we can leave your car.”
Jeremy turned into the lot and chose the closest space. The lot was nearly full, probably because of the game. They both got out and looked around.
Tyrell heard the sound of cheers. “Sounds like the game has already started.”
Jeremy bit his lip uncertainly. “Should we wait for Mr. Crabtree? The fact that we haven’t felt anything is a good sign. Right?”
“I hope so,” Tyrell replied. “But I ca
n’t just stand here waiting when Kevin is out there somewhere. Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll look around?”
“No way.” Jeremy glared at him, his face an obstinate mask. “I’m not letting you go alone. What’s wrong?” he asked when Tyrell didn’t respond.
Tyrell stared past Jeremy, his entire body going ice-cold. He had caught a flash of something brightly colored at the edge of the tree line, and when he turned to look, he saw the pink object Jeremy must have been talking about. Only now he realized it was a dress, one being worn by a very familiar face.
“Patricia?” he whispered.
Jeremy jerked in surprise at the name and spun in the direction Tyrell was staring. “What the hell?” he blurted out, saying what Tyrell couldn’t.
The figure standing there holding Kevin’s motionless body in front of her like a shield was indeed Patricia. Only instead of the soft-spoken flute player they knew from band, her lips were stretched in a malevolent grin, revealing several rows of impossibly sharp teeth. The smattering of freckles that usually covered her face were gone, replaced with sickening patches of mottled gray that showed through her rosy complexion in a grotesque display. All that remained of her pretty red hair were scattered patches that hung from her scalp in lank hunks.
“Kevin,” Tyrell breathed, afraid that if he spoke any louder he would discover that his brother was dead.
“Such a sweet boy,” Patricia sneered. “So tasty is his youth. I could gobble him up.”
She lifted Kevin with hands tipped in dagger-length claws, and Tyrell’s stomach lurched when she touched the tip of an inhumanly long and pointy tongue to his brother’s skin.
“Let him go, you bitch,” he spat, trying to tamp down his impending nausea.
