Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Ghost
What we just witnessed was top-tier audacity. Running away from someone who took a bullet for you? It was giving Looney Tunes.
I mean, I’d ask him what he was thinking, but I wouldn’t want to embarrass him.
I could have just let him go. I had his address now. But that would make me a quitter, and I’d rather make it awkward. After taking a few shortcuts only ghosts like me knew about, I settled in and waited for him to appear.
It took longer than I expected, so long that I began to question my talent for stalking. When he finally came into view, I was mad all over again. Consider me heroic for not causing a scene by stomping out there and tossing his bony butt over my shoulder.
Being the pillar of control that I am, I waited and snatched him off the street between buildings. The space was too narrow to be considered an alley but wide enough to lurk and pin him against the brick.
“Why are you limping?” I demanded. If he wanted coddled, he shouldn’t have had me out there running him down in my bestie’s drawers. If I tried to give these sweats back to Kieran now, he’d probably set them on fire… with me still wearing them.
“G-Ghost,” he panted, the fear in his eyes dimming when he realized it was me.
It would be an ego boost if not for the fact that I needed to report a crime. “Try again.”
His nose crinkled. “What?”
Oh, so he was on a crime spree, was he?
He must have seen the warning in my eyes because he said, “I’m tired.”
?Forgetting my name.
?Trying to look cute to get out of it.
?Lying.
Did I mention I was shoeless? He was well on his way to a felony.
Being tired didn’t make you limp or have amnesia. And it also appeared that patience wasn’t just a virtue. It was a full-time job that I wasn’t even getting paid for. “Try. Again.”
The corners of his mouth turned down, but then realization dawned. “Hiro.”
Much better. Pleased, I leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. He seemed to need a reward. “Good boy.”
His sharp inhale, followed by the way he turned his face, was an insult. I knew he wanted these lips. If Kieran hadn’t been such a cockblock before, I already would’ve had a taste.
Grasping his chin, I tugged his face around. It was cool and dark here, a quiet pocket in a chaotic city that felt like a private escape. But as I studied his wary gaze, I realized the true escape wasn’t this space. It was him.
My hand slid up to cradle his jaw, the wariness in his eyes transforming into something softer, something akin to muted longing.
“Don’t,” he warned, the word dragging over his vocal cords like he had to force it out. Like the only hope to stop this was me. But I was far past stopping, waist deep in danger and too far gone to care.
There wasn’t a single day in two years when I didn’t wallow in his memory. I ran, hoping time would erase us, only to realize you can’t elude the inevitable. I gave the only warning anyone had ever gotten from me, one opportunity to get away.
“Run,” I whispered, nearly tasting him in the restless air between us.
“I already did,” he murmured, eyes fixed on my lowering mouth.
Proof he knew we were inevitable too.
Our lips fused with dizzying force, the kiss deepening fast—yet not fast enough—because the more of him I tasted, the greedier I became.
His soft lips yielded to my hasty invasion, allowing my tongue to conquer his, twisting and exploring until our chests strained for air.
We broke apart, our foreheads bumping. The space between us was nothing but shared, unsteady breaths.
A low moan rolled between us, from whom I wasn’t sure, and then we were kissing again, messy and consuming, his fingers knotted deep in my hair.
A bold sense of urgency rushed through me, and I lifted so his legs could wrap around me and our chests smashed together.
The hint of maple coating his tongue was a sweet surprise in my hostile world, a momentary timeout from reality. And as his lips valiantly tried to keep up with mine, I realized something. Rett wasn’t just a reminder of why I did what I did.
He was the reason.
The startling revelation popped our lips apart, and I lifted my head, staring through eyes that were blinded by a tornado of emotion whirling beneath my skin, so overwhelming I couldn’t focus on a single thought.
“Hiro,” he whimpered, squirming in my tight hold. His body arched, head falling back to reveal the pale column of his neck. A neck darkened by someone else’s fingerprints.
Possessive energy consumed me, turning everything else into collateral damage.
Cradling the back of his head, I pushed him higher and dipped my head.
The second my nose nudged his throat, his breathing hitched.
I held myself there, teasing, until his limbs started quivering.
My breathing was heavy, and my heart beat loud in my ears.
The moment my lips finally feathered across the bruises, I braced for rejection.
None came.
Instead of forcing me back, he tugged me closer. My lips parted, marking him with the heat of my mouth.
He let out a whine.
I skimmed my tongue over the battered skin.
“Please,” he whispered.
“Please, what?”
“Make them yours.”
Restraint gave way to something stronger, and I lunged forward with an untamed growl, latching on to his skin and sucking like a man starved.
I wasn’t gentle and I wasn’t quiet, gripping the back of his head and holding it exactly where I wanted while possessively claiming—no, overriding—every mark someone else had left.
I was feral and not worried that it would hurt because, in that moment, I wanted him to hurt for me the way I had for him. I needed him to look in the mirror later and know to whom he belonged.
Mine.
Lips wet, I pulled back enough to survey the claim, practically eye-fucking the necklace of bruises while oozing with satisfaction.
Pip thrust against my middle, the hard ridge beneath his jeans unmistakable. His hand skirted between us, grabbing the bulge and squeezing before gently thrusting against me again. “Touch me.”
“No.”
His desire-glazed eyes widened, a flash of pain there, then gone. “Why?” he asked, voice fragile.
I tried to look stern. The sternest. But goddamn, I was a chump for that wide-eyed, innocent look. “We’re in the middle of the city. I won’t allow others to see what is mine.”
Light came back into his eyes, the sun peeking out from behind a cloud. A tiny smile twisted his wicked mouth. “But it’s been so long.”
My tongue dragged across my teeth. “How long?”
He shrugged.
Was this little shit goading me? This chump would not succumb.
Reaching between us, I grabbed his dick. He sucked in a breath, eyes rolling back in his head.
“How. Long?”
He tried to thrust, to steal some friction from my hand.
I carried him deeper into the narrow space and pinned him against the wall, still strangling his cock with my hand. “What did I tell you about being a little slut for everyone to see?”
“You called me a prostitute, not a slut.” He provoked me.
The outright insolence.
“I’m about to call you a cab,” I declared, starting to pull away.
“Since you,” he rushed out, hand flying to my bicep. Much quieter, he added, “There’s been no one since you.”
Surprise flared through me, chased promptly by suspicion. I leaned in, mere centimeters between us, letting him feel the threat on my breath. “Do not lie to me.”
He shook his head adamantly. “I’m not. I haven’t let anyone touch me since you.”
Something ugly twisted inside me. “People have tried?”
“I haven’t been without offers.”
Is that so?
I growled. “I want a list of names.”
“Are you jealous?” he teased.
“Yes.”
His stormy eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
To be honest, I was a little surprised too. Goddamn Kieran and his cuckoo cotton candy heart theory.
Distract him.
“Get your dick out.”
His surprise intensified. Distraction achieved.
I pushed a little more. “Change your mind?”
His hand fumbled with the button on his jeans, body arching to give him better access. I watched him struggle for a moment before brushing away his hands and doing it myself.
Completely helpless.
The second his jeans were open, my eyes went directly to the top of his cock peeping out of the waistband of his briefs.
Lust tightened my balls just seeing the way the white cotton strained. “Tighty-whities, huh?” I teased, but my voice was hoarse.
His cheeks pinkened. “They were on sale.”
My thumb dragged over the exposed tip, and he shuddered, head falling against the wall. My eyes immediately went to the ring of hickeys, and that all-too-comfortable feeling of possession roared to life.
My hands were rough when I yanked the briefs down, eyes blazing over his smooth, rigid cock. I only allowed myself the fleeting glance before concealing it with my palm and angling him farther into the shadows.
It would totally ruin the mood if someone caught an eyeful and I had to leave their body here to rot like yesterday’s garbage.
He whimpered, and I shushed him, pulling my hand up to put it in front of his face. “Lick it.”
“No.” Before I could make him, he said, “You.”
Holding his fiery stare, I licked a stripe over my fingers before I spit on my palm. I didn’t have to ask if he was game because his thighs clenched around my hips.
“Dirty boy.” I smirked and wrapped my hand around him to stroke with firm, rhythmic movements from the base of his shaft all the way to the mushroom head until it was glistening with pre-release.
Using my thumb, I smeared the silky liquid, enjoying the way he shuddered before pinching the tip together and making him squeak.
The temptation to rip down my sweats and rut into him like an animal clawed at me like an addiction, but I denied it again and again because he deserved better and because, the next time I was inside him, I was going to take my time.
Still, I couldn’t keep my hands off or deny the lust in his eyes. How could I when dreaming of him like this had literally gotten me through some blood-and-guts nights? His little moans and whimpers intoxicated me unlike anything else, turning a careful man into something reckless.
Suddenly, he pushed off the wall, crashing his lips against mine. My hand stuttered on his cock as my lips moved over his, tongue darting past to slip inside.
He was warm and silky, powerful enough to capture a ghost and remind him he was still a man. The thought jerked me back, but before we disconnected, his hands grabbed my ears and pulled me in for another all-consuming kiss.
Between us, his dick pulsed, growing rigid with every stroke.
I knew he was close, but suddenly, it wasn’t enough.
Wrenching back, I broke the seal of our lips, the sound of our uneven breaths filling my ears.
Questions swam in his eyes, but I ignored them and slid my middle finger into my mouth, swirling it around until it was wet.
Rett leaned back against the wall, hooded eyes watching as I dragged it from my mouth and pushed it back into his underwear and below his balls.
His body bucked as I swirled his tight hole, getting it nice and slick before plunging inside.
He cried out, hands going to my biceps as his body clenched around mine, trying to suck me even deeper into his warm middle. My own hips thrust automatically, but again, I ignored my urges to slide out and push back in, setting an unforgiving pace as I fucked him with my finger.
“Hiro.” He panted, then said my name again. My hand tightened on his hip and I curled my finger in, and he nearly shot off the wall.
“You’re mine,” I told him roughly, rubbing against his spot. “This is mine.”
“Yessss,” he hissed, trying to move against me but unable to because of our positions. He let out a little impatient whimper, and I was a sucker because I forced him a little harder into the wall and wrapped my free hand around his red cock.
His hand slapped over my wrist, holding me while I worked over him and ground against his prostate.
I felt his orgasm before it happened, the way it barreled up his shaft and his body clenched around my finger.
His wanton moan was low and long as warm, white ropes of cum poured out of him, all over his shirt and my hand.
I nudged his spot one last time, and he arched off the wall, another burst of pleasure dripping onto my hand.
His entire body went boneless, and I eased free to keep him from falling. His sound of protest fisted my heart, as did the way his arms wrapped around my shoulders, face pressing into my neck.
Clingy like a koala. Soft like one too.
As I held him, I wondered how I’d ever walked away.
How I would again.
“This counts as cuddling,” he whispered into my ear.
My arms tightened around him.
Damn this cotton candy heart.