Epilogue #2
Walker snorted. Kota made a noise of displeasure, giving Walker a stern look before whacking his arm. “Don’t be rude. They’re doing this for you. It’s sweet.”
The fact that somebody had remembered Walker’s birthday at all made something ache unexpectedly inside him.
A tight smile formed on Walker’s face. “Thank you,” he said begrudgingly.
The words looked physically painful. Cade peeled the foil from the bottle before popping the cork, once more turning heads. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. He filled the four glasses, handing one to each of them.
“To old friends,” Cade said with a smirk on his face.
“And new,” Tris cried, clinking his glass with Kota’s first.
Kota found himself smiling, snuggling closer to Walker as he took a sip.
Walker immediately shifted his arm around him without looking, like it was instinct now.
After a minute, Kota leaned in, asking, “Why do people keep staring at us?”
“I’m the gamemaster,” Tris said smugly. “I’m the man behind the curtain. People are dazzled when they see me in the wild.”
“Or,” Cade said dryly, “they’re wondering why you’re wearing a soccer jersey that appears to have lost a fight with a pair of scissors.”
Tris gasped. “It’s fashion. You should try it sometime.”
Cade scoffed. “It was a crime.”
Tris’s smile turned almost cat-like. “That’s not what you said when you were licking salt off my abs on the pool table twenty minutes ago.”
Kota snorted into his Champagne.
“Touche,” Cade said, admitting defeat.
“So…the gamemaster?” Kota asked Tris.
Cade’s hand landed on the back of Tris’s head, ruffling his hair fondly. “My mouse runs all of it. The whole operation. He’s the one who turned the message board into an actual game.”
“Oh,” Kota said. “You must be really smart.”
Tris immediately sat up straighter.
“He is,” Cade bragged with a grin. The pride in his voice was impossible to miss. Tris practically glowed beneath it.
“Wanna see how it works?” Tris asked.
Kota’s eyes went wide with surprise. “Am I allowed?”
“Well, since you’re here, I’m gonna assume you’re inner circle now, yes?”
Tris wasn’t looking at Kota, but at Walker. The smile slipped just enough for Kota to realize this wasn’t really a question about the app. It was like a stand-off of some kind.
“That’s up to you, squirrel. How far down the rabbit hole do you want to go?” Walker asked.
Kota bit his lower lip, studying Walker’s face. Walker gave him a small nod. Not impatient. Not reluctant. Reassuring. Like he was telling Kota that this was his choice. That he was allowed to know. Allowed to stay. Allowed to be part of this strange, dangerous little corner of Walker’s life.
Warmth spread through his chest.
He smiled at Walker, then immediately turned toward Tris, scooting closer until their shoulders touched. “Show me everything.”
Tris looked delighted.
Cade and Walker talked, switching from Champagne to something stronger as Tris walked Kota through the app.
The targets. The point system. The badges.
The rankings. The money. The safe houses.
The bizarre sense of community that somehow existed among people who made their living killing other people.
By the time he finished, Kota’s head was spinning. He pulled the lollypop from between his lips and gestured toward the screen. “This is amazing.”
“Thanks,” Tris said proudly. “Maybe you can convince grumpypants over there to accept the badges I’ve bestowed upon him.”
“Like...?” Kota asked.
“Tris,” Walker warned.
Tris’s laugh was downright diabolical. “The first was Employee of the Month. He refused, even though it came with a cash bonus. That was for taking out three targets in one month. Then there was Best Use of a Truck for Un-Truck-Like Purposes. Again, ignored. I even tried Best Long Haul Homicide Logistics. Still refused.”
Kota barked out a laugh. “That is absolutely something you should have accepted.”
Walker rolled his eyes. “I am not putting a murder trophy on my shelf.”
“You don’t even have a shelf,” Kota reminded him.
Walker gestured as if Kota was making his point. “Exactly.”
Tris pointed aggressively. “See? This is why we need an intervention.”
Kota giggled, looking over at Walker. The laughter died in his throat. Walker was already looking at him. Not at the app. Not at Tris. Not at Cade. Just him. Something hot unfurled low in Kota’s stomach.
A strong arm wrapped around his waist without warning, dragging him back to his side until their bodies were touching from shoulder to knee.
His breath caught. The large hand settled high on his thigh, possessive and comfortable, like it belonged there.
Kota shot him a startled look.“What are you doing?”
Walker bent toward him, his mouth brushing the shell of his ear. “Can’t I touch you?”
The deep rumble of his voice sent a shiver down Kota’s spine. “Yes,” he admitted breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”
Walker hummed. “That’s a dangerous power to give someone like me, squirrel.”
“But I like when you take what you want,” he admitted, just loud enough for Walker to hear.
Walker’s response was predatory. “That’s what I thought.”
Across the booth, Tris whistled low. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“What?” Kota asked, dazed from the blood rushing south.
“He wants to eat you alive,” Tris said, practically salivating like he was about to watch some kind of blood sport.
Walker got to his feet, pulling Kota upright with him. The room tilted slightly from the rush of Champagne and the way Walker was looking at him.
To Tris and Cade, Walker said, “We’ll be back.”
“Oh, we know,” Tris called.
His cackle followed them across the bar. Walker led him toward the back hallway without slowing. Kota barely noticed where they were going. All he could focus on was the warmth of Walker’s hand around his wrist. The certainty of it. The way Walker never seemed to hesitate when it came to him.
By the time they reached the single bathroom at the end of the hall, Kota’s pulse was hammering. Walker pushed the door open, guided him inside, then locked it behind them. The click sounded impossibly loud. Kota looked up just as Walker crowded into his space.
And then he kissed him, long and deep. Kota sucked the taste of whiskey from his tongue, whining into his mouth.
“Is it my turn to go down on you in the bathroom?” Kota asked, already sinking to his knees.
Walker pulled him back up, then spun him around to face the mirror, hands already on Kota’s button. “No,” Walker growled. “I wanna be inside you. I’m gonna fill you up and you’re going to spend the rest of the night feeling my cum leak out of you.”
Kota whined. “Please.”
He tried to help get his clothes out of the way, but Walker slapped at his hands, bending him over the sink and roughly shoving his jeans and underwear to his ankles.
His mouth found Kota’s throat, kissing the purple finger-shaped bruises there and sucking tiny marks of his own.
Kota drew in a sharp breath as two slick fingers pressed against his rim, finding a tiny bit of resistance before slipping inside. “Oh, fuck.” he gasped. “Did you sneak lube in here?”
“Technically, it’s Vaseline, but it will do in a pinch,” Walker said, distracted.
Kota laughed, but his cock was already painfully hard, trapped between the cold marble counter and the heat of his own belly.
The clink of Walker’s belt buckle sent a shock of desperation through him. He was undressing with one hand, his other still working Kota open.
“Hurry up,” he begged. “I need it inside me.”
Walker’s fingers disappeared only to be replaced moments later by a blunt pressure that stole the air from Kota’s lungs. “Yes. Yes. Yes,” he chanted quietly, pressing his hips back to encourage the older man.
“You need it, huh?” Walker growled against his ear. “Two nights ago, you weren’t even sure it would fit.”
Kota reached back behind him, grabbing Walker’s hair and smashing their mouths together in a sloppy kiss before saying, “But it did fit. Stop teasing and put it in already.”
“Okay,” Walker purred. “Whatever you want, baby.”
Kota screamed as Walker buried himself, bottoming out in one hard thrust. “Oh, fucking fuck.”
“You got such a dirty fucking mouth, squirrel,” he said, thrusting slowly as he curled his tongue around the shell of his ear. “This what you needed?”
“God, yes. You’re so fucking huge,” Kota said, eyes rolling behind his lids. “It always feels like you’re in my throat. Fuck me hard.”
Walker chuckled. “So bossy.”
He settled one hand on Kota’s shoulder, using the other to shove his shirt out of the way. He pulled almost all the way out before snapping his hips back sharply, bringing Kota up on his toes. He moaned long and low when he looked in the mirror and saw Walker watching himself fuck into him.
Kota gripped the counter tighter, his blood sizzling as he watched Walker watch them.
Walker’s hand tightened on Kota’s shoulder, picking up the pace until he was knocking these high breathy noises from him every time he sank deep.
Kota couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—he could only hang on as Walker whispered filth in his ear, using him like his favorite toy.
“Can I come?” Kota asked.
“No,” Walker rasped. “It’s my birthday. You can come after I do.”
He fisted a hand in Kota’s hair, pulling him back against him, wrapping an arm around his waist so he could fuck him impossibly deep. The change in angle had Kota’s vision whiting out every time Walker buried himself.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. I can’t… Can I… Walker, please…” Kota babbled.