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went away, he felt too close. A year of yearning to be
close enough to put his hand along Teague's throat, to
feel the texture of the skin on his collarbone, and now he
couldn't bear that Teague would touch him after last
night.
"I've got to shower," he said hoarsely, and to his
surprise, Teague's reflection shook its head.
"No," Teague said gruffly, and Jack's heart stopped
beating in his stomach and started beating in his balls
when Teague bent forward and dropped a kiss on the
naked skin of Jack's shoulder blade.
"Teague& what Green and I did& "
Teague's hand appeared, tattooed on the wrist and
broad and tanned on the back, and the rough skin of his
fingers started stroking Jack's stomach at the line of the
towel. Carefully, he traced the scars there, still pink and
fresh, and Jack grabbed his hand, because Teague was
shaking so hard it was starting to tickle.
"Do you think I don't know?" Teague asked roughly.
"Do you think I don't know how Green heals? How do
you think I knew to bring you here, Jacky?"
Jack jerked a little, but Teague wouldn't let him go.
He leaned his cheek against Jack's back, and Jack felt
their skin sliding together on something wet.
"Is that why all the affection?" Jack asked, trying not
to let the hurt this thought caused leak through his voice.
"I smell like Green now, and it's okay to love him?"
"Right, Jacky," Teague murmured, his sarcasm
sounding clogged. "That's why I'm making an ass of
myself, moving on you when you can barely walk."
Now he was the one who tried to jerk away, but Jack
wouldn't let him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, wishing he could see
Teague's face, see those intense eyes, know what Teague
was thinking.
"Don't be." Teague rubbed his face against Jack's
shoulder, and Jack could feel the entire line of Teague's
body along his back, including a rather thick bulge at the
back of his thigh. "I'm not easy to care about. I just kept
thinking you'd figure out I wasn't worth it, that's all."
Jack pulled up the hand around his middle and kissed
the tattoo on the inside of the wrist, loving the shiver
that coursed through Teague's body.
"You are so easy to love," Jack whispered. "It just
sucks to make you see it, when it's so clear to everyone
else."
Teague's left arm wrapped around Jack's middle, and
Jack looked, surprised, at the newly healed scars on the
front. "Not everyone -- just you, you dumbassed kid."
Jack took Teague's other wrist in his hand and started
to stroke off the dried, flaking blood. "What happened?"
he asked gently. Teague tried to jerk away again, and
Jack still wouldn't let him.
"Got bit by a wolf," Teague muttered into the skin of
Jack's back, and Jack frowned.
"When? Here? Why would a wolf bite you here?"
The silence froze the room, and Jack could hear his
heartbeat in it, could feel the pulse at Teague's wrists
beating against his stomach, and when Teague spoke,
his voice sounded surprisingly normal.
"I asked her to, Buttercup. Don't sweat it."
Jack's whole body went cold, then flushed, and
Teague's arms tightened around his stomach.
"Teague& "
He turned then, in Teague's arms, looking down at
the shorter man with dazed, blue eyes. "Teague& " he
repeated, and Teague wouldn't meet his eyes.
"You told me not to leave you. I don't see why it's a
big fucking deal, Buttercup -- if you don't want me, all
you have to do is say& "
Jack kissed him. Jesus, it was the only way to shut
the guy up!
 But even that Teague couldn't make easy, because he
took over the kiss, forced Jack roughly back against the
counter, shoving his tongue inside Jack's mouth and
tasting and possessing and invading.
Ah, God, Jack let him. It felt so good -- Teague, his
partner, the guy who'd had his back for so long, and he
wanted Jack -- really wanted him. Wanted his body,
wanted his love -- it felt as though Jack had held his
hands out for a year and a half with his heart in his
palms, and his arms had been shaking from the strain.
Holding Teague tight, letting his mouth be possessed
and claimed, feeling that small, compact, vital vibration
of muscle, skin, and bone assault his senses& it was all
he needed to heal the pain of waiting.
Jack groaned, clutching at Teague's shoulders, trying
to pull him closer, but Teague pulled away, dropping to
his knees and pulling off the towel. Jack was going to
pull away -- he still hadn't showered -- but Teague did
the unexpected.
He stroked Jack's cock tenderly, promise in the touch,
and then moved it aside, putting his lips firmly on the
mark on that tender inside of Jack's inner thigh.
"Did Green tell you what it says?" Teague asked,
bumping Jack's thigh with his forehead, like a dog
looking for affection.
"No." Jack replied, knotting his hand in Teague's
spiky, dark-blonde hair. He hadn't even thought to ask.
"It says 'Teague's'."
Jack leaned back against the bathroom door, his
vision going dark. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes."
"No matter what else we do -- we both like women,
Jacky. You know that. But always -- you're mine. Hear
me?"
"Yes."
"Say it!" Teague demanded, his voice harsh and
needing, his cheek bumping Jack's erection until he
wanted to howl, because Jack was needy, too.
"I'm yours!" Jack rasped, and then he groaned, stars
popping behind his eyes, because Teague had engulfed
him, swallowed him, taken Jack's cock down to the back
of his mouth and moved his lips over the base. "Ah,
God& " And Teague pulled back and took one of Jack's
testicles into his mouth, gently, so gently, and then the
other, and Jack's knees were trembling, and he
wanted& he so wanted&
Teague turned him then, faced him toward the mirror,
and Jack stared at his own reflection in shock. His
cheeks were flushed darkly, and his eyes were dilated,
heavy lidded, and the expression on his face was naked
with wanting& wanting a thing he hadn't known he'd
crave until that very afternoon, in Green's bed.
And then Teague gave it to him, tongue and mouth
and fingers working in concert until Jack couldn't keep [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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