by Jackie Nacht
Kalder stared at him, slack-jawed.
“I want to protect my loved ones, Kalder,” Prescott said softly.
Kalder zeroed in on Prescott. For a moment, Flex thought that Kalder was going to tell him not a chance in hell until he nodded firmly. “Keep tight to Wilder, Tucker and Memphis. Rio and his fire ants will be with Boone and Striker on the north end of town, hopefully flanking them.”
Green came running over with two other platypuses. A small number but that was all who were healthy after the previous attack.
A path cleared as the blue angels came through to the front of the line. Magnus was with them, the leader of Fiesta Island, a lionfish. The coloring on the man was stunning. He sauntered up, all powerful six and half feet of him.
Silver smiled. “You think they’re afraid of us?” Silver pointed behind him.
“Terrified is more like it. They know what you sea slugs can do.” Kalder lifted a brow at Silver. There might be a lot of people in Mission Territory afraid of the blue angels, but clearly it wasn’t Kalder.
“We prefer blue angels,” Mills murmured next to Silver.
The ground began to shake as the centipedes closed in, nearly upon them. Flex focused on the enemy as he stood next to Prescott.
Mills shouted, “I don’t think I can suck on those!”
Flex hollered back. “Now’s not a good time to be a picky eater.”
Prescott stared incredulously at him. Flex pointed to the enemy army only yards away and closing. “What? It’s true!”
Silver chuckled and smacked his lips honestly freaking the hell out of Flex, rubbing his hands together.
Flex stood firm as they closed in and fought the urge to put Prescott behind him as the front line made contact with the centipedes. Several centipedes scrambled over the tops of heads until they were dropping on top of them.
Flex growled and pushed his knife up, slicing a venom in the stomach. Clear blood tinted with purple rained on him as the centipede let out a piercing shriek. Prescott was next to him with his knife embedded in another centipede. They were crawling on them, trying to bite shoulders and necks. Prescott dodged another one as Flex shifted to the side, avoiding a direct blow from one of the centipedes.
They were wicked fast. Prescott worked his machete to slice into the venom. Silver was next to him, using his blade as opposed to his mouth to fight the grotesque venom.
Flex ducked as one scrambled over his head and toward the poison dart frog, Tucker. He pulled the thing back, hacking at his rear. The centipede turned on him, and Prescott moved, stabbing the centipede and taking it down.
“Thanks!”
Prescott nodded as he engaged with a snake this time.
Another centipede came his way, and Flex side kicked the venom in the head before bringing his leg back down and embedding his spur near the neck area. The thing wiggled and screeched as Flex’s venom began to course through the centipede. Taking his knife, he sliced, cutting off the centipede’s shriek.
Aerial fighters came in, arrows and rocks were just barely missing his head but quite accurate in hitting the enemy.
Flex was huffing as he struck a snake with his spur. To the east, Rio and the fire ants came in, and right then, Flex knew the battle was won.
It didn’t take long before Flex and Prescott were surrounded only by allies, their enemies at their feet. Flex dropped his hands to his knees and tried to suck as much air in as possible.
Prescott was huffing next to him, covered in the purple-tinted blood. Flex stood and pulled Prescott into an embrace, relief washing over him.
He’s okay. He’s fucking okay. Flex told himself that over and over as he held Prescott.
Prescott pulled back and checked him out. “You have some bruises.”
“I’m good.” Flex tried to pull Prescott in again. He didn’t want to let his man go.
“You’ll need to have Wilder check you out,” Prescott urged.
“I just need you.”
Prescott held him, kissing a spot on his shoulder. “You have me. You always will.”
Flex tucked his face into Prescott, the adrenaline leaving him to a wave of emotions. Fuck, he was shaking uncontrollably.
“You sure you’re okay?” Prescott murmured.
Flex had to hand it to the guy. Prescott was solid. No shaking or fear, just worried about him. He’d been through it so many times before. “Just coming down.”
“I’m here with you.” Prescott kissed his neck.
“I know.” Flex leaned down and kissed Prescott’s nape. “I know.”
Chapter Ten
Prescott sat in front of Flex surrounded by others in Mission Territory. The bonfire was keeping him and the others warm as the night meeting continued. It had been a day since the attack, and everyone in the circle seemed to be sporting bruises and cuts all over their bodies.
Magnus was standing. “We have to uncover how Pacific got this many venom on their side? How did we not know the balance was so far off?”
Prescott glanced over at Silver and Mills. Blue angels. Venom consumers. Yeah, everyone was giving them a wide berth around the fire except his mate. Flex had them right next to him.
Prescott stared at Silver and Mills while he spoke out. “I’m guessing Reef has his secrets like all the territories. No one ever even knew of the blue angels.”
Magnus shook his colorful mane of hair. “If Reef knew what Silver and Mills are capable of, they would be hunted and captured.”
Silver and Mills remained quiet, heads down. To have leverage in any way over venom was to put a target on your chest. Prescott knew that well enough with the anti-venom blood that ran through his veins.
Abby was the first one to talk. “I saw some in battle, but what I saw didn’t make sense.”
Magnus stared at Mills and Silver. The two nodded to him before Magnus spoke to the group. “What I’m about to tell you has been closely guarded in Fiesta Island since the toxins dropped seventy-five years ago. When the toxins fell in our location, some remained unchanged, some mutated, and then, there were the sea angels. It took five years to find out about them. Most sea angels assumed they were anti-venom, and they were protected. They were family. Then, there was an attack on Fiesta about seventy years ago. My grandfather was in the fight and his mate—” Magnus paused as he brushed his mane back “—consumed.”
“Consumed?” Wilder the deathstalker scorpion asked. Leif was in his arms, listening closely.
“He bit into a Black Widow and sucked the venom out of her. She altered, changed. My grandfather marked it down that the recessive effects of the toxins came to surface. His mate’s skin was tinged blue and silver, and that’s when Fiesta realized that there were more kinds that survived during the fall.”
“Holy fuck,” Boone muttered while rubbing his hand over his mouth. “And it was just on Fiesta. I mean TL and I in all our search have never met up with one of you guys.”
Magnus shook his head. “We think it had something to do with the Island. Honestly, even this many years later, too many died in the fall for us to ever get real answers.”
“You can do that with all venom?” Prescott asked.
Silver shook his head. “Not all. It’s a bit more complicated, and it has a lot to do with location of the venom within the person. However, the man o’ wars we fought are our natural enemies and just so happen to be one of Reef’s closest soldiers.”
Mills added, “We’re skilled fighters, and you won’t have to worry about your beaches being taken over. Most of the sea venom we can handle through consumption.”
Prescott shivered, thinking about Pacific coming in to attack from the waters. It wasn’t only possible but an easy way to take out Mission Territory if they weren’t watching closely.
Magnus nodded. “There’s still a lot of the enemy we don’t know in Pacific, but they easily took out my territory in the night. This is all we have left.”
Everyo
ne grew quiet around the fire. There were no more than forty men from Fiesta Island. The whole territory... gone.
“We’re going to have to go into La Jolla. Find out what’s going on there,” Striker said softly surrounded by his mates, Rio and TL.
“Our families,” Abby began.
Kalder nodded, tightening his hold on Reese. “I know. We want them back just as bad, but we need to know the game, which we don’t. Too much is in the dark. I don’t know Reef’s end game. Take over Venom City, sure, but to what end? We’re still at a point here in Mission where we are just trying to gather forces and allies. I sure as hell would like to know what’s brewing in Pacific, though.”
Cash had stood off to the side quietly but finally said, “We need a team to infiltrate Pacific and see what’s going on.”
Tristan stood up and faced off against the blue ringed octopus. “And I’m sure you’re volunteering.”
“Besides Striker, I’m the only one that’s been there. I know the place.” Cash got nose to nose with Tristan.
“Reef will have you captured in no time. You’re too high profile.” Tristan voice rose.
“I’ve been there.” The quiet voice hushed the progressing fight.
All eyes turned to Tucker. “I was a boy at the time. No family, homeless, and even then, things were getting bad. I fled and have been with Kalder ever since.”
In all the time that Prescott had been traveling with the group, this was the most he had heard from Tucker. He always thought the man was just quiet. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“They would know you.” Kalder stood. “From being close to me.”
Tucker shook his head. “I don’t think they would. I can blend in. I’ll make it happen.”
That might be a little hard. The guy had shocking blue hair and gorgeous dark eyes. Somehow, Prescott thought the guy might stand out in a sea of ugly in Pacific Territory.
The silence was tense, and it was Rio that broke it first. “There’s no guarantees you won’t get caught.”
“I know, and that’s a chance I’m willing to make.” Tucker bit his lower lip, staring at the crowd.
Kalder let out a juicy curse. “Get ready to head out in the morning.”
Kalder and Reese left with Tucker, breaking the meeting up.
Prescott pulled Flex to his feet. “Looks like the party’s breaking up.”
Flex got up with one hand, brushing the sand off his shorts with the other.
Prescott walked hand in hand with Flex back to their room.
“You think it will work?” Flex asked as they approached the sidewalk.
“You mean Tucker going to Pacific?” Prescott turned and made his way toward their building on the beachfront. It had been a bunch of shops before the toxin, and now, it housed him and his friends.
“Yeah.”
Prescott thought about Tucker. “I’m not sure. It’s a risk. All we can do is wait.”
And didn’t that suck. Tucker would leave tomorrow, and they would have to play the waiting game, never knowing if their friend got caught or worse, killed.
They rounded into the building and headed up the stairs, lost in their own thoughts.
Prescott went to open up the door to their assigned space, but Flex put a hand on the knob. “Leave it all out here tonight. When we walk through the door, it’s just us. We’ll pick up our worries in the morning.”
Prescott knew what would happen behind this door. He wanted it. Needed it after all the bloodshed. “Just us tonight?”
Flex held the knob. “Just us.”
“Let’s go in then.”
Prescott walked through the door, anticipating the night with his mate.
Chapter Eleven
Flex closed the door behind them, blowing out a steady breath. His body was ready to go right now, but he wanted to take his time tonight, dammit. They had been interrupted twice before, and hell could freeze over before he let a third interruption happen.
Prescott stood in the center of the room, and for all the confidence he had in battle, his mate seemed so uncertain. This being cared for was foreign to Prescott, and Flex wanted to make sure that his mate relished each and every second of it.
Prescott held his arms out and laughed. “We started this twice, and you would think I could figure out what the hell to do, but I’m...”
Flex approached. “Fine. And you’ve got me. This doesn’t have to be perfect or planned out; it just has to be us.”
“You want me to fuck you while holding my knife?” Prescott brows rose before he started to laugh.
“Damn, I’m rubbing off on you. You actually told a joke.” Flex grabbed the back of Prescott’s neck.
“Yeah, you’ll be rubbing off on me.” Prescott snorted.
Flex tilted his head back and laughed. “Now that was terrible. And you thought what I said when we first met was bad.”
“You’re a bad influence.” Prescott winked.
“I can live with that,” Flex said before he leaned down and kissed Prescott. It was slower than their other kisses. Just a taste here, a lick there, no teeth as they leisurely explored each other.
Flex moaned as his body tightened and his shaft thickened just from the smallest touch. “Bed. Now.”
Flex pushed, and Prescott fell clumsily back on the bed. Immediately, Flex took Prescott’s shoes off then his shorts. His mate was hard and achy as he laid there with his shirt raised to his neck. “Lose the shirt,” Flex rasped as he slid his shorts down, watching Prescott take his shirt off.
Prescott might be smaller than him, but he was compact with lean muscles. His cheekbones were sharp and flushed. Prescott reached down to begin stroking himself.
Flex crawled up onto the bottom of the bed and gently batted the hand away. “Mine.”
Flex grabbed Prescott’s leaking dick and swallowed it all the way to the root.
Prescott shouted and arched his hips off the bed. Flex grabbed a hold of them and put them back down as he got to work sucking, licking and tasting what he had been craving since he met Prescott.
“If you don’t stop...” Prescott’s voice shook.
Flex reached down and began massaging Prescott’s balls while he hollowed out his cheek and bobbed up and down. He wanted to taste Prescott, needed it.
“Flex!” Prescott shouted. “Oh fuck!”
Flex’s mouth filled with Prescott’s release. He swallowed every bit of it, ready for the next round. Flex was already addicted to Prescott.
Flex pulled back and sat up on his knees. His cock was leaking copiously, a strand of pre-cum falling onto the sheets below as he gazed upon Prescott. His mate was completely satisfied. His hair was messy and his cheeks flushed. He looked perfect.
“Do we have anything to prep me?” Prescott asked.
Flex reached over and grabbed the small vial of oil, holding it up for Prescott to see.
He opened it up and poured a generous amount on his fingers. Flex’s cock hung heavy between his thighs, and he couldn’t wait to sink into Prescott.
He recorked the oil and leaned down to kiss Prescott on the lips before moving down to kiss a path over Prescott’s stomach. Sitting up, he hiked Prescott’s leg on his shoulder, giving him better access.
Reaching down, Flex began circling his oiled fingers over Prescott’s entrance, before pressing one inside of Prescott.
Prescott hissed.
Flex paused. “Does it hurt?”
“No, more like a burn. Keep going.” Prescott’s face didn’t seem too damn relaxed.
“We can stop,” Flex urged.
“No fucking way. If venom crashed through that door, we’d still have sex. Understand?” Prescott said firmly.
Flex smiled. “You’re the boss.”
Prescott laughed and then groaned. “Okay, that felt... damn.”
“Good?”
Prescott nodded. “Yeah. More.”
Flex took his time prepping P
rescott. Slowly massaging one finger then two. Sweat popped on his brow, and Flex had to grip his base of his dick to keep from blowing before he even started.
Gritting his teeth, Flex worked a third in, feeling the muscles loosen around his fingers. Flex pulled his hand away from his own cock to start stroking Prescott. The shaft grew in his palm, and Prescott began moving underneath him.
Flex removed his fingers and reached for the oil again, greasing up his own dick.
Lining up, he slowly sunk in, watching Prescott’s face for any signs of discomfort. Prescott adjusted his legs, pulling them off of Flex’s shoulder to tuck his hands behind his knees. The better access allowed Flex to lean down and kiss Prescott as his cock sank home.
“So tight,” Flex whispered into the kiss.
“Move.” Prescott whimpered.
Flex kissed the soft lips one more time before he pulled back and began thrusting in and out of his mate.
Sweat grew on both of their bodies as they eventually found a rhythm that worked for them.
Flex breathed heavily as he thrusted harder into Prescott, watching as his mate stroked his own shaft in time to their lovemaking.
Pleasure grew as his climax drew closer.
“I’m close,” Flex rasped.
“I’m there,” Prescott hollered as cum spurted onto his stomach and chest.
The sight, the smell was enough to send Flex over the edge. Flex sunk deep one more time and filled Prescott. He shook from his release and shouted, knowing that everyone in the damn building would know exactly what they were up to.
His cock softened, and Flex pulled out, falling to the side of Prescott. Prescott’s chest was pumping up and down as he turned to stare at Flex.
“You okay?” Flex said through a dry, scratchy throat.
Prescott reached out and brushed a piece of his hair out his eye. “You’re right.”
“About what?” Flex reached down and grabbed the covers, drawing the cover over their sweaty bodies. They could clean up later, but right now, he didn’t want to leave Prescott’s side for even a second to leave the room to go and get it.
