Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
JAMIE
T hose words lit a fire under Jamie’s skin. Did he really mean that? It seemed like it. It felt like it, but Jamie knew all too well how easily people lied. He truly didn’t think Sigurd was lying, though, and at that moment, he could barely think at all.
The open-mouthed kisses Sigurd was sucking along his jawline and down to his collarbone didn’t feel like a lie. Jamie sank his fingers into Sigurd’s thick dark hair as he worked his way down Jamie’s body, sucking his nipples one at a time and making his hips hitch up off the bed.
“Shit.” He was panting and so hard he could feel his pulse in his cock. He pressed up again, rutting fruitlessly against Sigurd’s chest.
The bastard chuckled. “I’m going to take care of that, I promise.”
“Today?” Jamie shot back, filter gone in the face of his lust.
Sigurd laughed again. “Right now.”
True to his word, he moved on from his quest to drive Jamie insane through nipple stimulation alone and kissed along the flat expanse of his belly. Sigurd’s beard was a new sensation, somehow soft and scratchy and entirely welcome every time it brushed his skin.
When Sigurd reached the waist of his briefs, Jamie was fully prepared to lose them entirely, but Sigurd just pulled the waistband down far enough for his cock to spring free and swallowed him whole.
“Fuck!” Jamie nearly screeched, hips bucking and brain scrambling.
Sigurd only hummed, propped on his elbows, and lying fully between Jamie’s legs. He bobbed his head and sucked, the hot cavern of his mouth bringing Jamie to the edge faster than he’d like to admit.
“I’m not going to last,” he gasped out, fingers spasming against Sigurd’s scalp on a particularly artful upstroke.
Sigurd hummed, breathing in through his nose at the top before driving back down again with suction so perfect it made Jamie’s toes curl.
Within minutes, Sigurd wrung the most exquisite orgasm from him. His whole body seized up before the pleasure broke over him in a wave, sending him careening into the depths of bliss and emptying himself into Sigurd’s willing mouth.
Slowly, Sigurd kissed his way back up Jamie’s body to his mouth. He kissed him deeply, plunging his tongue inside and sharing Jamie’s own salt with him.
“Gods, the sounds you make,” Sigurd said, mouth pressed against Jamie’s cheek.
“Let me,” Jaime said, getting his hand between them in search of Sigurd’s dick. What he found was a wet spot and a cock that was impressive even when it wasn’t at full hardness.
“No need, I’m afraid. Shot off like a rocket the minute you started to cum.”
“That’s so hot.” Jamie kissed him, happy to hold Sigurd’s spent cock in his hand and thrilled Sigurd was just as turned on as he was.
Sigurd kissed him back, rocking into Jamie’s grip despite having just cum. “Haven’t gotten off just rutting against something in years.”
Jamie smiled. “I haven’t cum that fast in years.”
“We’re a pair, then.” Sigurd’s smile was soft.
Jamie cupped his cheek with his clean hand. “We are.”
Sigurd kissed his palm and pulled him closer. “Let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep. I’m sure it’s going to be another long day tomorrow.”
For the first time in a long time, Jamie wasn’t worried about it. Whatever the Hellhounds learned from their interrogation, whatever came at them next, they’d deal with it together.
SIGURD
Sigurd woke with a start because of the insistent thrum of warning from his runes under his skin. The room around him was still dark. Only the faintest tinge of gray in the sky outside the window to signal the coming dawn.
Someone had gotten past his wards.
Quietly, he slipped from the bed where Jamie was still sleeping soundly and grabbed his sweats from the floor. Pulling them up his legs, he was grateful he’d taken the time to clean up and change before they’d snuggled into each other to sleep.
He took one more glance back at Jamie and called a spark of blue fire into his hand. It was a powerful spell he’d perfected long ago. Blue fire burned hotter and faster and only his intended target.
As soon as he stepped into the hall, Silva said, “It’s me, Sig.”
His breath left him in a rush, and he closed his fist, extinguishing the ball of flame in his palm.
“I called, but…” Silva materialized out of the shadows at the end of the hall.
He was as tall as Sigurd, but lean. All graceful muscle and sharp wit.
Sigurd had never seen his equal with a blade.
His chin-length silver hair glowed in what was left of the moonlight and shifted as he moved to reveal the pointed tips of his ears.
He could hide them if he chose, but there was no need here.
Silva held up something in front of him for Sigurd to see. “I will say, your Halloween decorations are a touch lacking this year.” Dangling from Silva’s hand was a single red rose captured in a miniature hangman’s noose.
All thought of Silva scaring the daylights out of him or how he’d gotten past Sigurd’s wards fled from his mind. “Where did you get that?”
Silva tilted his head. “It was hanging from the back door knob. Not yours, I take it?”
“No. Marcus, the vampire who was stalking Jamie in Chicago… that’s his calling card.”
“Well, that may—” Silva cut himself off, eyes narrowing. He looked past Sigurd to the window at the end of the hall.
“What is it?” Sigurd learned long ago that Silva’s hearing was so much better than his own.
“I don’t want to alarm you, but I think we may be surrounded.”
The warning pulse of someone tampering with his wards pulsed under Sigurd’s skin, more insistent than before.
He moved to the window, staying to the side of it, and peeked down to ground level.
He could see three hooded figures with their hands raised toward the house.
If Silva said they were surrounded, he was sure there was more. “How many?”
Silva took a beat. “Twelve at least.”
Turning, he jogged back to the room where Jamie was still sleeping.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand.
Movement in the doorway caught his eye, and he turned to look at Silva.
“Wylder’s asleep on the third floor. Go wake him.
Tell him who you are. He knows you’re a friend. I’m calling reinforcements.”
Silva left with a nod.
Sigurd got his phone open and hit Lenette’s number, pressing the phone to his ear. With his other hand, he gently shook Jamie’s shoulder. “Jamie, wake up.”
“What is it?” Jamie mumbled, his face still half-smooshed in the pillow.
“Good morning, Sigurd.” Lenette greeted through the phone. “Everything alright?”
“No. I need the Hounds and the Coven and whoever else you can send. There’s a minimum of twelve hostiles surrounding my house. Some of them are definitely magic users. They’re trying to break my wards.”
Instantly, Lenette was all business. “Who do you have with you?”
“Silva, Wylder, and Jamie.”
“Back-up’s on the way.”
“Thank you.” He hung up the phone and slid it into his pocket.
“Did you say the house is surrounded?” Jamie was awake now, watching him with wide eyes.
He looked gorgeous and disheveled with his hair a mess and the blankets pooled around his hips.
Sigurd couldn’t wait to see him like this every single day.
For now, though, he had to keep them alive until the cavalry arrived.