Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
FADE
Scanning complete, we now gather in Zephyr’s office as we look over the faces that Aven has compiled from all of Alice’s paintings and journals and scribbled behind pages she colored in books. Though unsurprised, I’m disturbed to see how many Aven has matched to living people.
According to Zephyr, matching them isn’t the difficult part. It’s following the shadows they leave behind them until he can find the closet with the skeletons. Right now, he has surveillance on three identified men.
To be completely honest, I’m absolutely sick over how exact a match Alice’s paintings are to these real living men.
On one hand, the talent she possessed was something to be admired, gawked over, and praised.
It deserves awards. On the other, I’m absolutely horrified that these are real people.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d hoped she’d been painting nightmares and not truths until they suddenly became real.
The long, arduous process of investigating is frustrating for Erez. He has names, and he wants to go in with guns blazing. For more reasons than legality, that’s not an option.
I understand his frustration. He’s waited a decade for this moment. For something tangible. For the monsters of Alice’s past to reveal themselves. They’re here now, and they’re within arm’s reach, but he’s being forced to wait.
Everything feels like busy work. I’ve tried to convince him that he should go to work to pass the time. He doesn’t want to, but he does bring his sketchbook.
One afternoon at the beginning of June, I grip his hand to gain his attention. “Want to go for a ride?”
Humor dances in his eyes. My dick twitches because he’s taken that to be a dirty question.
It’s not. I mean, I wouldn’t say no, but that’s not what I meant.
Our extracurriculars remain in the darkness of our bedrooms at night, and we never speak of them outside.
Hell, we never talk about what happens between us at night, either.
I’m honestly not sure what Erez thinks is going on between us or how he feels about it. My fear that it’s just something to pass the time prevents me from bringing it up. It doesn’t stop me from enthusiastically engaging in the activity. Apparently, I’m begging for a broken heart.
Erez looks up from the table we’re sitting at to Zephyr behind his desk. He’s tapping away on his computer, and although he doesn’t look away, he addresses Erez’s unspoken hesitation. “I’ll call you the second I find something worth investigating in person. Promise.”
Sighing, Erez drops his head for a moment. We live in a time when instant gratification is the only satisfying solution for anything. We’re living in a society where patience isn’t practiced.
“Yeah,” Erez says and shuts his sketchbook. “That’ll be nice.”
“Have fun,” Zephyr says.
My bike is parked in the underground garage.
Because of our frequent presence recently, we’ve been granted electronic access to specific parts of the estate and office.
I once got lost on my way to the office and ended up outside a house.
Before I could even turn around, there were three white trucks surrounding me. That was a fun conversation.
It was the first time I’ve met Voss Van Doren, too.
I was not expecting the man to be wearing a short, pin-striped skirt with boots, a crop top tee, his hair in two elastics on top of his head that look like horns, and white painted nails.
I was so startled by his appearance that I just stared dumbly for a solid minute. Thankfully, he was kind and patient.
When I asked Erez about it later, he laughed.
“The Van Dorens live a nonbinary lifestyle to make sure their kids know that no matter how they want to express themselves, they’re allowed, supported, and encouraged.
Colors, clothing, names, accessories—none of it has gender. We assign gender where we want it.”
Honestly, I was impressed and a little envious of this upbringing. It’s made me reconsider so much of myself and what I hide to avoid attention on a daily basis. Progress in this country and the world at large is a constant roller coaster, depending who’s in charge at the time. It’s exhausting.
My point of this mental tangent is I’ve since memorized the route I take to get to and from the office building. I thought I was going to disappear when the white trucks surrounded me, and I’m not in a hurry to experience that terror again.
I have no destination in mind as we leave the Van Doren Estate. All I cared to do was keep Erez close and get him out of the building. His anxiety and impatience were beginning to feel like a living thing. It was growing a heartbeat.
We drive for a long time. I stop long enough to fill the tank once then keep driving.
Sometimes I backtrack, and we travel back along a route I already took.
I drive down roads I’ve never traveled. It’s only a little serial killer-esque when a cement road suddenly turns into dirt and we’re dropped off in front of a dilapidated building in the middle of the trees.
On the way back, the sun is beginning to set, so I stop somewhere for us to watch it. Since we’re parked with our helmets off, I pull Erez to the front of my bike and hold him against me as we admire the sunset.
In silence, we watch the sky turn orange, bleed into pink, then begin to go out entirely. It’s beautiful and somewhat mesmerizing. Witnessing it with Erez in my arms keeps my heart racing unsteadily.
This seems like a good time to tell him. Or, at the very least, hint at it. No. If I’ve learned anything over the last five years, it’s that hints go die in the air with Erez. Hell, we’re on a romantic date right now, and he’s entirely unaware!
The prospect of confessing my feelings makes my tongue feel swollen. Nope. Not going to. I’m too much of a coward. I have this little piece of him right now, and I don’t want to lose it. Even if the longer we continue down this road means it’ll hurt worse when it ends, I’m not ready to lose it yet.
When the daylight gives way to the stars in the sky, Erez climbs behind me again and we head down the road once more.
We haven’t spoken since leaving the office, but tonight is shaping up to be one of my best memories to date.
The comfort. The peace. Having Erez in my arms. It’s romantic and sweet and simple. I love everything about it.
We end the night at Erez’s apartment. I’m a little surprised when he invites me in. No, I don’t read into it. Considering he’s been at my place more often than not since the first night a month ago, I’m not going to think too much. Or at all.
Erez makes us a late-night dinner, then we head to bed, which begins how it usually does with kissing. Clothes come off quickly, and our naked bodies press together. Erez isn’t much smaller than I am. He’s leaner. Softer. A couple inches shorter. In my arms, he’s the perfect size and shape.
Everything about Erez is perfect. The feel of his skin beneath my hands. The way his body rocks against mine. How his mouth molds with my mouth. His taste. All of Erez is everything I ever imagined he’d be. Better. Beyond my wildest dreams.
He leans back, and I let our kiss break, thinking he needs to take a breath or wants to stop. Erez groans and releases a breath. He grips my arm and pulls me closer, a clear demand that I follow, so I do. Wordlessly, Erez guides me where he wants me, which is on top of him.
His knees come up on either side of my hips, and he grinds his hard dick into mine. My breath catches, interrupting my concentration on his mouth. Erez bites my lip, and I shiver with arousal.
“You opposed to sucking dick, Fade?” Erez asks. It’s the first and only vocal request he’s made since we started fooling around.
“No,” I answer, kind of amused at the question. He knows I like men. I’ve never been opposed to the occasional woman, but my preference has always been men. “Are you?” I counter.
He snorts. “No. But I’d really like a blowjob if you’re up for it. I’ll return if that’s how you want to get off.”
His choice of words has me a little puzzled even though I immediately begin licking down his body. “What are my other options to get off?” I ask before I dip my tongue into his navel.
Erez’s hands grip my head, and his hips roll again when my mouth gets closer. I release a breath over his cock and watch a bead of precum form at his slit.
“I don’t know,” Erez answers, but I’ve forgotten what we’re talking about. Now that I’m close to his dick, I want to devour him. All of him. Every inch. “I’m open for suggestions.”
“Suggestions,” I repeat. With the tip of my tongue, I capture that little bead while just barely brushing the tip of his dick.
He groans quietly, his hands tightening on my head. Gently pushing me into his crotch, he makes a clear demand of what he wants without forcing me.
“Such a pretty cock,” I murmur.
“Then suck it,” he gripes. “You’re torturing me.”
“Oh no, Erez. I haven’t even begun to torture you.”
“Nooo,” he whine-laughs. “I want you to suck. Not torture. I’m not into sadism.”
“Masochism,” I correct. “But I’m not talking about pain. Not in that sense.”
“I’m not interested in sex term lessons, Fade. Just put my dick in your mouth!”
This is the most conversation we’ve had about what we’re doing to date, and while I kind of want to keep it going, his obvious need and my eagerness to do what he wants—even if possibly for selfish reasons—is too strong.
That doesn’t mean I put his cock in my mouth yet.
There’s always a chance that this is the last time, so I intend to enjoy it.
I shift so I can use both my hands, which puts me practically frogged out on my knees between his spread legs.
Gently, I push his legs to relax, giving me complete and unhindered access to his cock.