Chapter 17 #2
“You met him once, practically in passing. That hardly qualifies you as an expert on his intentions.” He turned toward the door again.
“Aren’t you the one who used to say you could tell when something was off with someone immediately? What happened to that guy? The one who didn’t trust anything unless it came from scripture, huh?”
Nicholas didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. As if sensing an opening, a moment of weakness, Mateo pounced.
“The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew something was off.” He crept closer to Nicholas.
“You’re just jealous.” Nicholas knew this. He knew it during Gabriel and Mateo’s brief introduction. “You’ve always been jealous. Of the church, of God, of my relationship with Liam… Of anything that you think will take me away from you.”
“Yes,” Mateo admitted with some hesitancy. “But this is different. He’s so…” he searched for the right word. “Still. It’s fucking creepy.”
Nicholas groaned at the ceiling.
“I’m serious, Nicky. Blinking seems like an afterthought for this guy, and who the fuck is that damn good looking? I mean, really, not one pimple scar? And those cheekbones? Straight out of a fucking fantasy novel.”
Nicholas laughed incredulously. “You think he can’t be trusted because he has good genetics?”
“Don’t mock me,” Mateo bit out. “It’s more than that. It’s a feeling.”
“And how much of your feelings are tied up in what we did?”
Mateo recoiled. “It isn’t like that,” he whispered.
“Forget about it. I’ve gotta go.”
“He says he’s a coffee importer!”
“And?” He motioned for Mateo to get to the point, even while secretly not wanting him to. “He says he’s a coffee importer, and what?”
“…And he is.” Mateo narrowed his eyes at him. “Why do you look so relieved?”
“Because maybe now you’ll let this go.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the reason. His business is small, relatively new. It doesn’t explain his wealth, and I can’t find anything on him that says he comes from money or that he has other business ventures. You said his house rivals Tony Stark’s.”
“No,” Nicholas corrected. “You said that. I simply said he had a beautiful home overlooking the ocean—and I told you that in confidence.”
“We’re the only ones here.”
“Yet you’ve thrown it in my face twice now.”
Nicholas didn’t feel like himself, and his heart beat faster than it had in days.
“A new business needs attention. When’s the last time he’s even taken a work meeting?”
Nicholas turned for the hall again, and Mateo caught up, grabbing his arm.
“Let. Me. Go,” he seethed.
“The business is a front, Nicky.”
Nicholas yanked his arm away, slowly backing down the hall as Mateo stared at him.
“You know I’m right,” he said, seeming genuinely unhappy about it. “Somewhere, deep down, you know I’m right, or else you wouldn’t be here with me trying to work through these dreams of yours.”
“Who else would I—”
“Gabriel!” he shouted. “You’d be pillow talking with him about it. You’d be asking for his help. Why aren’t you asking for his help, Nicky?”
Nicholas’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He was here with Mateo, and he’d already spoken to Liam. That left Gabriel. It stopped, then started right back up again.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Mateo taunted, a cruel smirk on his lips.
Nicholas swayed, grabbing onto the coat rack for support. Mateo rushed to his side.
“Shit, Nicky, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he panted. “I just need to catch my breath.” He rubbed the heel of his palm against his chest.
“That’s the second time today.”
“I’m fine. It’s probably just heartburn.” He tried to stand under his own steam and stumbled.
“Whoa.” Mateo helped to steady him. “I think you should lie down, maybe see a doctor.”
“I said I’m alright.”
“Yeah? Because you don’t look so hot.”
“It’s this conversation. It’s exhausting me.” One lie after another.
“Yeah, okay. I’m sorry. Will you lie down for a while? Maybe take a nap—”
“No,” he said too abruptly. “Sorry, just… no more naps.”
“No more?” Mateo sighed when he got no response. “At least let me take you home.”
“I’ve gotta stop at the shelter.”
“Well, I’ll come with you.”
“Didn’t you say you were meeting one of your regulars? That he wanted to buy you a new Domati? ‘Now or never’ was what he said, right?” He tried to keep his tone casual.
“It’s a Ducati,” Mateo corrected. “And I can buy my own. You’re more important.”
“Look, I’m fine.” He turned in a slow circle, arms out, giving Mateo a good look at him. He even adopted a wide smile.
Mateo ground his teeth. “Call me to let me know you got home okay.”
“Promise.”
Nicholas stumbled down the hall of his apartment, using the wall for leverage. He stripped away his layers of clothing, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning its way through his skin.
His tongue was a heavy weight behind his clenched teeth, his abrasive thirst scraping away at his throat.
Gabriel. I need to call Gabriel.
His phone vibrated in his hand, startling him into dropping it. Gabriel’s name lit up the screen.
Nicholas’s vision tunneled in and out, vivid images of the beautiful man assailing him, his blood spilling over the cave floor.
“No!”
Nicholas slammed to his knees, a loud crack ringing through the air from the impact. Pain assaulted him from every direction as he fought to stay conscious.
The vision changed.
“Don’t leave.”
“I won’t be long, Habibi. This might be our only chance.”
“God, please,” Nicholas begged as the scene shifted again. He watched through the man’s petrified gaze, seeing the blade aimed for his throat and unable to do anything about it.
“Muharib!” Nicholas cried out, pleading for him to appear.
His cries morphed into a moan as the scene changed again. He felt the beautiful man’s climax race through him as Muharib took him with carnal need from behind.
Nicholas’s cock punched through the opening of his briefs, precum spilling from the aching tip. He dry-heaved, sick with need, beads of sweat striking the tiled floor.
“Unngh!” His head snapped back, his own orgasm tearing through him with a dizzying intensity as Muharib continued to thrust into the man ferociously.
Nicholas shoved his ass back onto the phantom cock, cum continuously spilling from him. His phone started up again, setting his teeth on edge.
Reaching for his cock with a trembling hand, he attempted to crawl to the fridge. His thirst was a living, breathing organism of its own, simultaneously making demands of him.
Another wave of arousal stabbed through him. His spine arched tight enough to snap in two, and he kept coming.
After the third consecutive orgasm, Nicholas tried again to make it into the kitchen, even as his body prepared for the fourth.
“Ishrab,” he croaked. He needed to drink. He needed something sanguine and sticky and metallic. The need both repulsed and drove him forward.
Tears streamed down his face by the time he got the refrigerator open, the cool air no match for his sweltering skin.
His breath came in rapid pants as he grabbed hold of the glass pitcher on the top shelf.
“Aahh!” His vision pulsed black, and he lost his grip on the jug.
Water spread over the floor like a rolling wave, and Nicholas made a wounded sound, lapping it up. It did nothing to quench his clawing thirst, nothing to satisfy his need.
He slid onto his stomach, body twitching. Nicholas latched onto his heartbeat, using it as an anchor, feeling it slow until he felt nothing at all.