8. CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 8
Neo
T owel around my waist, I step out of the shower, feeling better. Not only did the hot water wash away the grit and grime of the last twenty-four hours, but the delicious jerkoff starring my brother’s broody best friend pinning me with nothing but a look as he licked his way down my body was a most enjoyable way to release the tension holding my muscles hostage.
“You need to leave.”
With a squeak, I jump. My towel falls, but I grab it before I flash my junk at my brother. “Jesus, Dack. You scared the shit out of me.”
Dacker stands in the doorway of the hallway bathroom we shared as boys. “Colden’s packing a bag for you. Anything else you need, he’ll make sure you have it.”
“But I just got here.” I rub my eyes, then secure my towel. “Let’s start from the beginning. Tell me exactly what’s going on.”
“SPAM’s involved and they think it’s best for you to hideout for a while.”
The only reason I’ve even heard of SPAM is from Colden bitching about them trying to recruit him for years. So when he text me saying he was leaving Stealthy Spirits to work for them, it was a surprise. “How did SPAM get involved? I’ve only been in the shower—”
“Colden will take you to a safe house. He can explain the rest in the car.” My brother shifts from foot to foot and takes great interest in the chipped paint in the ceiling from when I was nine and accidentally launched the rocket I built in here. That was a couple of months before our mom died. Instead of getting angry, she asked me what caused the unplanned launch and told me every scientist learns from their mistakes. I wonder if Dack is remembering the same thing. “But you need to get moving.”
So remembering Mom?
No.
Hiding something?
A big fat yes .
I stand with fists on my hips, and give my brother my best glare, which is less than intimidating when I’m wearing a towel. “Protect me from what, exactly? And why is SPAM involved?”
He removes his glasses with a bone-grating sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, then returns his glasses to his face. “There’s some evil mastermind contest or some stupid shit. Apparently, Alexander runs one of the groups participating in the contest.”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “Doesn’t SPAM work with supes?”
“Yeah. That’s why they recruited Cold.”
Colden doesn’t talk about work much, but I thought he mentioned something one time about recruiting, which didn’t sound like he’d have any kind of particular set of skills to keep me safer than I could do on my own. His family, maybe…
But discussing Colden’s family is a touchy subject. His parents were absent when he was growing up, and from the few things he’s said, I don’t think he’s ever forgiven his father for not being able to save our mother. If I were a superhero, losing her the way we did would’ve been enough to start my villain origin story. I wonder how many supes have switched allegiances due to the whims of Fate… “So, this evil-mastermind contest is with supervillains?”
“Yeah.” The weight of the world is in that one word.
I laugh. “Believe me, Alexander does not have superpowers. Unless you count being a selfish prick as a power. Then, yeah, he has loads of it.”
“Be serious. If he was brazen enough to kidnap you, who knows what else he’ll try.” Lines form across his forehead as my brother knocks a loose fist against his thigh, his features pinched around eyes glazed with worry.
“Dramatic much, Dack?” Seeing my brother stressed and worried, grips my gut and I do what I’ve always done, go for upbeat and cheerful. But he’s not wrong. Since shimmying out of that window, I’ve been looking over my shoulder. On some level, I must have sensed something bigger was going on or I would have returned to my apartment and not been fearful of being followed.
Head cocked to the side, Dacker raises a single brow, eyeing me through his lenses with a look that says we both know I’m right and don’t be obtuse. “Get dressed. Colden will take care of you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.” Though just the thought of spending time with Colden has goosebumps popping on my skin and my dick stirring.
“I can’t lose you, Neo.” Dack sags against the wall with another bone-grating sigh that I feel as much as he does.
For the first time since showing up this morning, I really look at him. My brother has experienced more losses by the age of thirty-two than most people have had in lifetimes. His biological father died before Dacker’s second birthday. Our mother dying when he was a teen nearly crushed him, but he persevered and ended up being drafted to a professional football team as a second-round pick.
He made it through spring training and had a phenomenal showing in the first two preseason games. The pundits were falling all over themselves about what an underrated pick he was. How he should have gone in the first round. But a tackle went wrong in the third preseason game, causing a spinal injury and leaving him paralyzed for months. Thankfully, he made a full recovery, but his professional football career ended before it even began.
With all of that, I don’t recall ever seeing him as defeated as he looks now with the wall holding him up. I refuse to be another thing he grieves. I squeeze his shoulder. “You’ll never lose me. I’m too stubborn.”
He huffs a humorless grunt. “Determined.”
“ To-ma-to, to-mah-to .” With a flourish, I wave my arm in the air and he snorts. “I’ll be fine with or without Colden.” He opens his mouth to say something, but I talk over him. Now is not the time to argue with my brother. I trust him and even though I haven’t seen Colden in so many years; I trust him just as much. “ But for you, I will let Colden do his thing. Even though I’m not sure exactly what that is.”
“Thank you.” The lines of tension creasing Dacker’s face relax and the slump of his shoulders eases. I already feel good about my decision because I’d do anything for my brother.
“Just do what I say, and we’ll be fine.” Colden’s rough voice sounds from behind Dacker. “We should go.”
His eye peers over Dack’s shoulder, sweeping over my naked chest. Heat blooms at every point his gaze touches, and my recently spent cock doesn’t care that tenting the towel in front of my brother and my crush is not cool. I give my back to them and pick up the folded clothes I set on the sink. “You better get out unless you want an eyeful.”
“I haven’t seen your ass since you were in diapers, and I want to keep it that way.” My brother backs out, but when I peer over my shoulder, molten mahogany eyes peer back. “See something you like?” I tease because tackling the man to the floor and rutting against him doesn’t seem like the appropriate thing to do right now.
Colden swallows hard, and I follow the bob of his throat, wanting to feel it under my lips. “Hurry up.”
The door closes softly, and I drop my hands to the bathroom sink to hold me up. The reflection in the mirror is one of red blotches from my chest to the tips of my ears. “Very sexy, Neo.”
How I ever thought Colden could ever be interested in me is laughable. I can’t even handle a look from him. Keeping my eyes averted from the mirror, I dress, then follow the low murmuring of voices into the living room of Dacker’s apartment.
Dack draws me to him in a hug so fierce, I fear he’ll never let me go. He loosens his hold, then cups my face and presses a firm kiss on my forehead. “I love you.”
My eyes prick and a python wraps around my throat, making it difficult to choke out the words. “Love you, too.”
“Take care of him,” he says to Colden, who’s standing behind him, watching with those eyes that don’t miss anything but keep so much guarded.
“Always.” Colden’s gaze holds mine for the briefest moment. His expression, devoid of any emotion, but I’m acutely aware of the wetting of his lips, like his mouth is as parched as mine. The encounter lasts a second at most, but leaves me as winded as running across rooftops.
He scoops a duffel bag from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder, and says to Dack, “I’ll contact you when I can.”
“Yeah.” My brother releases me from his embrace but keeps an arm around my shoulders like he’s afraid to let me go.
Part of me wants to stay right here, in the home that has so many memories, with my older brother to protect me. It seems infinitely safer to my emotions and sanity than being alone with Colden and his sexy brooding.
But when Colden says, “Ready?” I give Dacker one last hug and follow the gruff guy charged with looking out for me. Because I refuse to let my brother deal with another loss.
***
I blink open my eyes. Row after row of trees speed by. Their lush leaves, a green blur as we wind our way along a narrow two-lane road. Exhaustion from the last few days hit me as soon as the wheels started rolling, and I fell asleep before we were out of the city.
I stretch my legs out as far as they’ll go, but I’m unable to extend them fully. “How much longer?”
“Depends.” Colden grips the steering wheel of the Jeep Wagoneer that’s older than he is.
I twist on the bench seat, so I’m facing him, and I cough back a groan at being this close to him. Being able to take in the precision of his sideburn and dark hair covering a strong jaw, and the two silver hairs near his chin, glistening in the daylight like glitter, bring as much agony as delight. “Where exactly is this place?”
“About two-and-a-half hours from here.” His lips twitch in an eternal battle with his smile.
Unable to handle twitchy lips, I flip around and stare out the windshield at the macadam. Large yellow signs with black arrows point to the curving road. “That doesn’t tell me much. Where is it exactly?”
“The house is on the outskirts of Eternity.” He slows, easily maneuvering the Wagoneer around the sharp bend.
I check the time. We’ve been driving for at least four hours. “I thought Dacker said you were only two hours from Philly.”
“I don’t want anyone following us.” His gaze flips to the rearview mirror.
I turn to look behind us.
Nothing.
I look in front of us.
Nothing.
I look out the passenger window and spy a groundhog contemplating crossing the road. “Yeah, those invisible cars can sneak up on you.”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“Tell me more about SPAM. Didn’t you say you’d never work for an organization that was named after a lunchmeat?”
He smirks at that. “It was time for a change. I couldn’t work for Dacker forever. They agreed to my terms, so I took the job.”
“What were your terms?” I twist toward him again and draw my leg up, resting my ankle on my knee. My interest in getting to know Colden on a different level grows with every passing mile, and I know I’ll learn something if Colden opens up.
Colden guides the Wagoneer around a fallen tree branch. “I didn’t want to be too far from my aunt or Dack, and I wanted something quiet.”
“Your aunt… I haven’t seen her since I was in high school. Dacker was still in the hospital. I remember her bringing my dad and me homemade tamales. The entire unit smelled delicious. All the nurses and families flocked to Dack’s room.” The memory takes me back to those days. I rest my head on the leather headrest and stare at the canopy of trees over the road. “Dad said after that, she would bring food once a week for all the families.”
The fine lines around his mouth deepen as his lips curve upward. “She’s the same. Still taking care of everyone.” The turn signal clicks, and he passes an eighteen-wheeler, struggling up the steep incline. “She moved in with me a couple of years ago.”
I nestle deeper into the seat, lulled by the engine and Colden’s voice. “Yeah?”
“Her powers came with menopause, and she ended up accidentally burning her house down.”
“Shit. That sucks.” I try to fight it, but the yawn wins out and I cover my mouth.
He lifts a shoulder. “She said she’d move out once she could control the flashes. It’s been a couple of years, and I’m used to having her around.”
We drive in silence, the only sound the whirling of the tires on the road. My eyes grow heavier and heavier until keeping them open is impossible. Sleep overtakes me, and I drift into dreams of ice on fire and cozy igloos.
***
“We’re here.” Icy fingers stroke my cheek, the scent of Colden’s cologne warming me. I snuggle in, not wanting to wake from the delicious dream of a naked Colden on his back while I lick every inch of him.
“Neo, love. Time to wake up.”
My eyes jolt open. The seatbelt digs into my hip. My body drapes across the bench seat and my cheek rests on a muscled thigh covered in denim. I bolt to sitting, knocking my head on the underside of Colden’s chin.
“Ouch.” I clap a hand to the back of my head. “Shit. Are you okay?”
Colden rubs his chin, moving his jaw from side to side. “I’m good. You?”
He brushes a non-existent strand of hair from my forehead, letting his fingers trail down my cheek. My breath catches. Frosty fingers fire me up. His touch is like a lightning strike during a snowstorm, charging the air and lighting up the sky as brilliant as it is rare.
And like a thunderstorm, electricity crackles between us. The daylight dims, pulling a blanket over the sky, but the air thickens with the promise of the oncoming storm. His fingers’ journey ends and he cups my chin, gaze focused on my mouth. Frozen in place, I wet my parched lips. His pupils expand, and just when I think there’s a possibility he’s going to kiss me, his hand hits the leather seat with a thunk.
“We’re here.” He opens the door and jumps out, but I don’t miss the crack of his voice.
While my head is in prime viewing position, I take the opportunity to ogle his ass.
Le sigh.
I’m a grown man, yet my crush on the guy runs as rampant as when I was a teen. I open the door and get out, adjusting my shorts and tugging my tee over my hard cock. From the moment I witnessed my brother’s best friend lifting weights in nothing but loose fitting shorts, his torso glistening, and a trail of sweat winding its way between his pecs and over the muscular speed bumps of his abs when I was fourteen, I’ve been half in love with Colden. Any question I may have had about my liking boys—not that there was much—was obliterated by that one incident.
After hours cooped up in the car, I bend over and touch my toes. My shirt rides up and the humid air wisps at my lower back.
“Hurry up. We’re not doing yoga.” The sharp words should irritate me, and probably would were it anyone else harping at me. But I feel surprisingly giddy considering I’m being ushered to a safe house because some government agency said so. I guess that’s what a nap and one heated look from the man will do. Plus, I’ve always thought Colden’s grumpiness was part of his charm. It makes the tender moments more priceless.
Vertebrae by vertebrae, I take my time coming to a standing position, because what fun is it if I can’t mess with him a little? That look in the car was something.
Maybe.
Definitely.
Probably.
Tugging my shirt down, I then close the door. “Coming, Dad .” I exaggerate the last word, for no other reason than it’s fun to rile him up.
His eyes narrow, but even in the shadow of the darkening night sky, I spy a twitch at the corner of his mouth like he’s fighting a smile. Coaxing a twitch from Mister Frowny Face is as much of a triumph as talking to my long-dead mother’s image.
Okay, that may be overstating it just a bit, but his dancing lips bring a little delight after a shitty couple of days.
“Keep mouthing off and I’ll put you over my knee.” He flashes a rare smile, winks, then spins on his heel. The bag he packed for me bounces off his ass as he stomps to a storefront lined with large windows, leaving me with a gaping mouth and a cock standing at attention.
In the distance, the low bellow of a cow swells and scattered farmhouses dot the terrain. Other than a boarded up gas station, there is little else around, which seems like an odd place for a mattress store.
“Did you just make a sex joke?” I scurry after him, taking in the red awning, running the span of the store. Above it, Splendidly Plush Affordable Mattresses flashes in red neon, but with the burned out letters it reads, did P ush for a sses.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Neo.” He pushes open the door, gesturing for me to go in ahead of him. “Even if you weren’t my best friend’s baby brother, messing around with a subject isn’t something I do.”
His words wallop me, and hurt explodes, leaving the worst kind of shrapnel embedded in the deepest parts of my chest. I swing around and push at his very solid, very lick-worthy chest. Anger and hurt radiate off me like a blast wave, expanding from my core. “What the hell is a subject ?”
He wraps his hands around my wrists, his thumbs skimming over the sensitive skin of my pulse point, but he doesn’t pull my hands from his body. “ You are the subject.”
“Subject of what?” With every back-and-forth glide of the pad of his thumbs, the anger and hurt compress, sucking back into me. My knees weaken and my brain scrambles.
“SPAM.” His voice is rough and gravelly, and a flash of a thought skips through my mind.
Would his voice sound the same if I were to take him in my mouth, teasing him, his begging turning to pleas, until finally he screamed my name with pleasure?
Unable to help myself, my thumb smooths over his pectoral. I dip my head so my mouth is mere inches from the shell of his ear. “I’d rather be your subject.”
He sucks in a breath and the muscle under my hand jumps. The grip on my wrists tightens and for a moment I think he’s going to pull me to him. Instead, he releases his hold and steps back. My arms flop to my side like two limp noodles.
“You’re letting in the hot air. Close the door and flirt inside.” A small voice cuts through my lust-fogged brain. I turn toward the sound. From the back of the store sits a person, with a pink beanie pull down over their eyebrows.
Colden stomps around me. His black boots thump on the threadbare industrial carpet, much like the thunking of my confused heart behind my too tight ribs.
It is beyond time for me to get over him. Too bad my stupid heart hasn’t gotten the message. I let the door fall shut and follow him, because it seems I would follow the man just about anywhere.