Chapter 8 Tension #2
He tried to allay Cade's fears. "I get it that you don't want to tell me to protect yourself and them, but you're helping me find Nat. It's not like I would use that information against you. Plus, I believe in what you guys do …"
"Your turn," was the frustrating response.
After momentarily concentrating on the game, Tristan asked, "What are they like? The guys? I mean, are they all guys?"
"Except Annabeth, yes."
"What's your boss like? He was pretty cool when you messed up with Wilson."
"I did not mess that up!" Cade hissed.
"Okay, fine. So what's your boss like?"
"I dunno. Tough, smart, fair."
"What about the other guys?"
"They're okay. Except Tag. Are you gonna move or not?"
Huffing again, Tristan rolled his eyes and the dice. He moved his pieces, then studied Cade as he took his turn.
"Do you guys, like, kill a lot of people?"
"What?"
"Like, how often do you, you know, do that? Like with Wilson?"
"When I'm told to."
"How often is that?"
"Jesus, Tristan. I don't know. Are you gonna play the game or talk my fucking ear off?"
Straightening his shoulders, Tristan huffed. "I'm just trying to figure out how many predators you've taken off the street."
"A lot, okay? Take your turn, will you?"
Relenting, Tristan rolled his dice and made his move, but then he was back to his questions.
"How many is a lot? Like, ten? Twenty?"
The silence stretched on as Cade concentrated on the game, until Tristan concluded he wasn't going to get an answer.
"So you're not going to tell me?"
"Oh, my god. I don't know, okay. It's not like I count."
Sensing an opening, he ventured, "More than ten?"
"Yes," Cade said absently as he moved his pieces across the board.
"More than twenty?" Tristan prodded.
"I guess. It's your move."
After making his move without really thinking, Tristan persisted. "More than fifty?"
Looking up, Cade squinted at him. "Why do you care?"
"I'm just curious," Tristan answered, a little defensive.
"Yeah, probably more."
Tristan, either stupid or just stubbornly invested, couldn't help but press. "More than a hundred?" he squeaked, his voice rising an octave.
Cade rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Tristan. I told you I don't keep track. Just play the fucking game, will you?"
The rebuke stung, but Tristan fixed his attention on the board, impressed that Cade's people had eliminated up to a hundred predators, rapists and murderers, and that they had spared or saved countless victims like Natalie.
The knowledge solidified his view that Cade and his associates were public servants who made the world safer.
Content to set aside heavy topics for a while, they chatted over the game, debated the strengths and choices of each other's moves, and razzed the other when they lost. The mood was easy and light, and Tristan couldn't help but tease and goad Cade, just a little bit, to see that cute, grumpy face and hear him gripe.
Taking advantage of the relaxed vibe, Tristan tried again to address the accidental flashing incident.
"Did I really make you uncomfortable when I forgot clothes?"
Cade glanced at Tristan, his prickliness back in full force. "You ask too many fucking questions, you know that?"
"I'm just trying to clear the air about that."
"Why?"
Tristan sputtered, unsure how to answer. "I don't know. Because." He wasn't about to let Cade know that he secretly hoped his nakedness had affected the other man because that was just too pathetic.
"Nothing to clear. Your turn."
"Well, what do you think we should talk about then?"
"Nothing, preferably."
"Ugh, you're so annoying."
Cade scowled at him but didn't respond. They continued the game while Tristan's brain churned. He wanted to temper Cade's surly silence, but he was also dying to know if his housemate had any interest at all in him, for, you know, research purposes.
When the idea occurred to him, a slow smile crept across his face.
"Hey, Cade," he said, trying to keep the excitement from his voice.
"Hmm?" his opponent hummed, still focused on the board as he arranged it for another game.
"Let's make a bet on this next game."
When a little pucker popped up between Cade’s eyebrows, Tristan thought it was cute.
"What kind of bet?"
"If you win, you get whatever you want, and if I win, I do too.
So … what would you want? You know, if you won?
" Tristan modulated his voice so it didn't migrate into suggestive, sultry territory.
He could think of a dozen responses the other man could give that would make him practically come in his pants right then.
"For you to stop asking me questions," Cade answered gruffly.
All of Tristan's nasty thoughts ground to a screeching halt. "Rude!" he retorted.
Cade crossed his arms over his chest like a stubborn child. "You said I could have what I wanted. That's what I want."
"Fine!"
A tense moment passed until Cade demanded, "Well? Are you gonna tell me what you want if you win?"
Despite his irritation, Tristan's thoughts wandered right back into raunchy territory, but since Cade wanted him to stop asking questions, he couldn't very well reveal his smutty fantasies. Instead, an idea occurred to him that might get him his answer anyway.
"If I win, I get to ask you a question, and you have to answer. Truthfully," he tacked on at the last second.
"Only one question?" Cade asked, eying him suspiciously.
"Yes."
Cade squinted, not quite believing him. "You're sure. Only one? Then you'll leave me alone?"
"Yes." At least for a little while.
"Okay. Fine."
Smirking, Tristan decided this could work in his favor after all.
He was bubbling with anticipation as the game progressed.
When it came down to the final move, he was ahead, and Cade's next roll would decide the outcome. The dice tumbled across the board as if in slow motion, and when they landed, Tristan’s chest swelled with exhilaration, while Cade glared at the dice as if they had personally wronged him.
Tristan leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest, and grinned like the Cheshire Cat as he waited for a reaction. Cade mimicked his behavior and raised one eyebrow in challenge.
"So, one question and you have to answer."
Cade pursed his lips in distaste. "A bet's a bet."
"Then my question is …" Tristan paused dramatically, his eyes glued to Cade's.
"Do you wanna fuck me?"
The blood drained from Cade's face so fast, Tristan would have laughed if his heart hadn't been pounding out of his chest. Cade bolted from the chair, scraping it against the floor.
He stalked across the tiny kitchen in two long strides, slapped his hands against the counter, breathing hard with his head bowed and his back stiff.
Tristan shot to his feet as well, blood roaring in his ears, his stomach twisting with dread that he had imagined everything.
"Well? What's your answer?"
Cade muttered something indecipherable.
"What?" Tristan crept closer, stopping just behind the other man.
No response.
"Just say it."
"You’re not my type," Cade finally grumbled.
The words sliced through Tristan. Idiot. You misread everything.
"Oh. So … you're into women?"
Cade remained still, his muscles coiled tight. "I am, but I don’t prefer them."
Tristan blinked with confusion. "So you like men too?"
"Yes." Still no eye contact.
"Then why am I not your type?" Tristan demanded, voice cracking.
Though his hands curled tightly on the counter, Cade didn't answer.
"Seriously? Say something."
"Because."
"Because what?"
When he finally turned, Cade's eyes were dark, dangerous.
"Because you wouldn’t like what I like."
Something shifted in the air as tension crackled between them.
"What does that mean? You mean … like, kinky stuff?"
Cade laughed derisively. "If you ask like that, I definitely know I'm right."
"How would you know?"
"Because I know."
"That's stupid. Tell me and let me decide."
Sucking in air through his nose, Cade finally admitted, "I like to control, to dominate, and I expect complete obedience, full surrender. No games, no playing around."
Why was that not surprising, and why didn't he hate that idea? It actually sounded … intriguing.
"O-okay."
"Okay what?"
"That's okay with me."
Cursing under his breath, Cade scoffed, "You don’t get it."
"Then explain it to me!"
"No, I'm done talking."
"Cade, stop being …"
"Don't push me, Tristan."
"Tell me!"
Something in Cade seemed to snap, and his expression turned predatory. He took two steps toward Tristan, who retreated reflexively until the counter dug into his back and the other man crowded right up against him, giving him nowhere to run, no way to escape.
Cade pressed so near that Tristan could distinguish his pupils from his deep brown irises, could smell the soap and spice again, could feel the aggression emanating from him in waves.
Cade pinched his chin and angled it up, forcing Tristan to meet that ominous gaze.
"You wanna know so fucking bad, Tristan? You wanna know what I want? What I'd do to you if I could?"
A burst of electricity crackled through Tristan's body, and he wasn't sure if it was from fear or arousal.
Or both.
His mouth was so dry, he couldn't force out words, so he dipped his head to give silent permission, or maybe it was a plea, to continue.
Cade's voice was low and gravelly when he spoke.
"I want to own your body, brand it, cover it with teeth marks and bruises, use it as I see fit.
I want to fuck your mouth until you can't breathe, until tears stream down your face.
I want to hold you down and choke you while I fuck you, while I split you open.
And I want you to like it, to be so desperate for it that you beg me for more. "
He paused for a heartbeat before he added, "But you wouldn't like it. You wouldn't beg me for more. So just. Let it. Go."
Time screeched to a halt as Tristan sucked in ragged breaths, his heart hammering furiously in his chest. He felt hot and flushed and tingly all over.
And his dick was hard.
His eyes locked onto Cade's, and he witnessed the exact moment the other man registered how his words excited him.
Cade's eyebrows arched, and he assessed him for several tense seconds. "What the fuck? Did you like the sound of that?"
Swallowing past the knot in his throat, Tristan nodded, both hoping and fearing that the other man knew he was about to come in his pants like a fucking teenager.
Searching his face for a tell, Cade inched closer until the space between their bodies evaporated, until they touched from chest to thighs. Certain now that his boner was noticeable, Tristan gulped, both thrilled and terrified.
"You've never done anything like that before?"
Tristan shook his head, unable to drag his eyes from Cade's. "I've thought about it … but no."
"And you want to try it?"
A nod, subtle at first, then more vigorous.
"Fuck," Cade swore softly as his gaze dropped to Tristan's lips, then slid back to his eyes. "We may both end up regretting this," he added before he crashed their mouths together.
Cade plundered and demanded, his mouth harsh and savagely aggressive. Tristan struggled to keep up, overwhelmed, disoriented and hornier than he'd ever been in his life.
A sharp sting on his lip shocked him from his daze. He registered with both alarm and arousal that Cade had bitten him, then sucked on the wound. The strange sensation, sharp pain followed by soothing pleasure, made the wires in his brain cross in a confusing tangle.
Easing back, his eyes boring into Tristan's, Cade spoke, his voice like chocolate, simultaneously warning and enticing.
"Last chance to save your innocence," he drawled, and if Tristan hadn't been trapped against the counter, his knees surely would have crumbled under him.
He recognized he was about to rush headfirst into the unknown.
It was exhilarating.
"Stop telling me what you want to do and show me instead."