Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
a very nice story. But maybe if you hear the story, you can decide to protect the ones you love before the same thing happens to them.”
Wake up.
Come on.
Evan needs you.
Reece’s fingers twitched. That was the velvety warmth of skin and muscle under his hand, under his cheek and his body, with
no clothes blocking the way. Grayson underneath him, heartbeat in his ear, his breaths gently rising and falling under Reece’s
head. His arms were a soft weight on Reece’s back, their legs tangled together with one of his feet tucked under Grayson’s
calf.
The voice in his head rose again, even more insistent.
Stay awake—
But before he could stop himself, Reece had spread his hand so that his whole palm and fingers rested flat on Grayson’s chest,
as much contact as he could get. His empathy was already leaping from his control again, seeking, reaching.
And everything was—
Gray?
Reece’s eyes popped open. But he was seeing nothing but black with his eyes, nothing but gray with his empathy. Reece’s hand
scrabbled against Grayson’s chest, like he could cling to the physical sensation of warmth under his palm and fingers as he
spun through a night fog, gray over black, unconsciousness looming like a tidal wave—
“Reece?”
The voice was just a whisper, a quiet rumbling under his ear. But it was the anchor he needed to drive away the threatening
wave of unconsciousness, so that the body under him became solid and real, so that the thick gray fog of missing emotions
receded to a light mist.
He turned his face and let his lips brush the bare skin of Grayson’s chest.
Arms tightened around him. “Reece?” His name again, muffled and distant, a vibration under him. “You awake?”
Reece let his lips brush Grayson’s skin again, right over his heart. “Maybe.”
Grayson exhaled, the gentle movement shifting Reece with it. “Maybe?”
“This could be a really good dream.” Grayson’s skin was so warm under his lips. “Goddamn, are we really touching?”
“Sure, sure, that’s definitely the thing to focus on.” Grayson’s dry sarcasm hitched as Reece began kissing a trail up his
skin. “After all, why would you want me to explain where you are—”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“—or tell you what happened—”
“Didn’t ask.”
“—or let you know if you’re in danger—”
“Don’t care.” Reece kissed his collarbone. “Fuck. We can touch.”
He felt Grayson’s breath hitch again under him. He moved his lips to the hollow of Grayson’s throat as his hands traced Grayson’s
chest, his ribs, anything they could reach, until he tried to push up and met a wall of restraining fabric. “Wait. Are we
in the sleeping bag?”
“I could tell you if you’d stop distracting me—”
Reece pushed his head out from beneath the sleeping bag’s edge, emerging under Grayson’s chin into air that was shockingly
cold. The darkness was still encompassing, but he could just make out Grayson’s outline in the sleeping bag under him, their
small space lit by patches of pale glow in the shapes of squares and rectangles. The truck’s windows now covered in snow.
Grayson’s hands ran up his back, and Reece was arching into the touch before he’d known he was going to move. “You were like
ice before,” Grayson said, fingers and palms splaying on Reece’s upper back. “You feel warmer now.”
Reece squirmed under his hands, managing to pull himself another few inches forward. “Bet we can get warmer still.”
And he lifted his head, stretching up in the dark, lips finding the top of Grayson’s throat, then his scratchy jaw, then—
“Fucking finally,” he muttered as his mouth aligned with Grayson’s.
Grayson made a sound that cut straight to Reece’s chest. The last of the fog abruptly cleared, or maybe that was the entire
world disappearing as suddenly they were kissing, really kissing.
“Fuck,” he heard Grayson mutter, more of an exhale than an actual word. The hands on Reece’s back tightened, then slid back to his waist. A moment later, Grayson hitched Reece up like he weighed nothing, so their mouths were better aligned as he slipped his tongue between Reece’s lips.
Reece fought the sleeping bag still tight around his shoulders, not breaking the kiss as he shifted until he was fully on
top of Grayson. One of his hands found its way into the upper part of the sleeping bag, lingering along Grayson’s stubbled
jaw before sliding up.
“So you do let people touch your hair,” Reece whispered against his mouth as he twined soft strands between his fingers.
“Some people.” Grayson’s hands were sliding lower on his back, sending sparks over Reece’s rapidly heating skin. “You still
a hypothermia risk?”
“Definitely,” Reece said without breaking the kiss, hearing the lie in his words. “You better not let me go.”
“That was a serious question.”
“That was a serious order.” Reece felt Grayson’s hands slide another inch lower on his back, and realization set in. He broke
the kiss, pulling back just an inch. “Am I naked in this sleeping bag?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you what happened. We’re stranded in the—” Grayson’s words became a soft groan deep in his throat
as Reece shifted his thigh, exploring “—stranded in the truck somewhere in the forest. It was storming and—”
“And the snowflakes stole my clothes?” The endless expanse of Grayson’s skin was making him dizzy. “Doesn’t feel like you’ve
got much on either.”
“I did keep my boxer briefs—”
“I can tell.” Reece moved his thigh again, adding some purposeful pressure against the hardening length under him, and Grayson
groaned again. “Trying to be a gentleman? Because that’s cute, but really, I am all for you handling me as un-gentlemanly as possible.”
“Did you already forget your little tumble in the snow?” Grayson’s hands were still distractingly low on his back, especially
now that Reece had clocked there were no barriers between him and those hands. “Your clothes were soaked through. I found
you cold as ice when I woke up. So what I was trying to do was keep you from dying of hypothermia—”
“Back up one fucking minute.” Reece paused his movements. “You passed out too?”
“We’re talking about you—”
“Are you hurt?”
“—and your safety. Besides, I heal fast—”
“Not what I asked,” Reece said warningly. The glow of the snowy windows seemed slightly lighter than earlier, enough to see
some of Grayson’s face, the high cheekbones, the outline of his brow and nose. “Answer my question.”
One of Grayson’s hands slid down to his ass, making Reece draw a sharp breath as sensation rocked through him. “Who’re you
trying to boss around?”
Reece slid his hand around through the sleeping bag, brushing the slight ridge of the round bullet scar on Grayson’s shoulder.
“I don’t like you getting hurt,” he said softly, dangerously, as he brought his thumb to rest on the delicate skin of Grayson’s
lower lip. “I think I made that pretty clear tonight, but I’m happy to clear it up to the rest of Seattle if I have to.”
Grayson seemed to still, letting Reece trace his lip. “I got a couple bruises but nothing broken,” he finally said, sounding
honest. “My body doesn’t appreciate being drugged, but it’s almost burned off.” He kissed Reece’s thumb. “That’s all.”
“Good.” Reece slid his hand to Grayson’s jaw, holding him in place as he brought their mouths together again, deep and firm.
Grayson’s hand was still on his ass, his cock stiffening against Reece’s hip.
“Make sure you know who you’re kissing,” he whispered against Grayson’s lips.
“I am still not the helpless pacifist you took that bullet for. I’m the monster you’re protecting everyone else from. That’s not a lie, Evan; I believe it.”
“That right?” Grayson tightened his hold, so that Reece’s own hardening dick slid against the firm planes of Grayson’s stomach
where it was trapped between their bodies. Pleasure ricocheted through him again, and a groan escaped him. “Why’d you turn
the truck?”
Grayson moved him again, sending another bolt of pleasure through Reece, strong enough to make his kiss falter. “Evan—”
“I know you did. You could’ve let my side slam that tree, but you took the blow yourself.”
Reece groaned again into his mouth. “Shut up.”
“Why’d you come for me at all? Risk your own safety and freedom to pull me out of that lab?”
“I would never have left you with Nichols—”
“You traded your pacifism for my life.”
Reece stiffened. He broke the kiss, pulling back. “Who told you that?” he said sharply.
“Traynor,” Grayson said. “I was too arrogant to see the danger I was in, so you took care of it for me.” Reece could just
make out the shape of those unreadable eyes. “And maybe I can’t feel grateful, or guilty, or anything else, but a monster
wouldn’t’ve done all that you did.”
Reece tightened his jaw. “It doesn’t matter how corruption happened. I am what I am now.”
“Maybe,” said Grayson. “But I should’ve told you before, so I’ll tell you now: Any version of you is still worth that bullet.”
That stirred something in Reece’s chest, an emotion he absolutely was not going to look at more closely. “That’s just proof
you’re also making questionable decisions,” he said gruffly, shifting so his hip brushed Grayson’s cock, drawing a sharp breath.
“Like getting in this sleeping bag with me and letting me get used to your touch.”
He ground down against Grayson again, watching a flutter of lashes, drinking in the hitch in his breath. “Your knockout ability was the last Dead Man power you had against me. And you gave it up.”
Grayson’s whisper came, hoarse and strained. “Was I supposed to let you die?”
And then Reece was kissing him again. There were no emotions to sense, but he could feel the shifts of muscles, hear the soft
sounds that escaped, could let Grayson’s body give the signals to guide his hands and mouth. He shoved one of his arms back
into the sleeping bag, fingers gliding over the warm, bare skin of Grayson’s stomach. “Jesus, no gloves. Nothing between us.”
He sounded hoarse to his own ears. He tried to slide his hand lower, making a noise of frustration when he couldn’t reach
any further. “I need room to move; let’s get out of this sleeping bag.”