Burning Bright (13 page)

Steve appeared with a towel and cleaned the table. He retrieved a fresh one and came over to Sasha and started to rub him down. The towel was not only heated, but damp, like a slice of heaven. Then Steve clipped Sasha’s hands together in front of him. Picking him up like he weighed nothing, the big man laid him on his back on the table and went to clean Carlos. The big Latino stumbled over to the bed and lay down on his back, and Neal stroked his fingers through his hair, watching Steve with interest as he pulled Carlo’s condom off and rubbed his dick clean, making the Latino writhe under his hands.

Steve grabbed a towel and wiped his hands off, then used some cleansing gel. He bent over and clipped Sasha’s hands over his head on the table, then clipped both feet to the corners of the table.

Carlos whistled. “You’d better get ready, Doc.”

“For what?” So sated he could hardly form two syllables, much less another hard-on this close to an orgasm that big.

“Don’t be givin’ it away now,” Steve admonished.

“Let’s just say Steve likes to give,” Carlos told Sasha.

The big black man winked at him and then took Sasha’s cock in one hand, and his balls in the other. Sasha wasn’t quite sure what he did, but he could barely see straight. His voice came out of him in pants and shouts and he pulled at his bonds, for the first time in his life wishing he wasn’t restrained. Usually it was the other way around.

Then Steve bent forward and sucked Sasha’s cock
and
his balls into his mouth at once.

“Fuck,” Sasha shouted.

He was vaguely aware of Carlos moving on the bed and Neal coming around behind him, but couldn’t focus enough to watch. That in itself was a first for him; usually he loved to watch. But Steve’s mouth massaged him, his tongue rubbing against his balls, and then his slick finger slid inside Sasha’s now slack anus to pump in and out.

Sasha writhed, throwing his whole weight into it, but the restraints held firm. Steve sucked at him until he was about to come and then pulled free. Steve laid his head on Sasha’s hip and blew gently across the heated skin.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Gods, don’t stop.”

“What makes you think I’m stoppin’, little man?” He massaged his finger against his opening, making Sasha writhe again. “I’m right here, baby.”

“I…” Sasha trailed off. “Gods.”

“You don’t have to call me that. Steve’ll do jus’ fine.” He stroked the hot skin of Sasha’s cock with a warm hand. “I’m letting you rest. Don’t want to wear you out.”

“Please, Steve.” He met the big man’s twinkling gaze. “Please. Fuck me.”

Steve bent closer and nuzzled his ear. “Oh, I ain’t fuckin’ you, baby. Not yet. This is foreplay.” His hand closed around Sasha’s shaft and started pumping hard and fast. He sucked Sasha’s ear into his mouth as he did it. “Now, I want you to come so hard for me that you can’t say my name right.” Steve nuzzled him again. “I want your seed to spill all over your stomach.”

Steve buried several fingers inside Sasha’s ass as his other hand pumped his shaft. His own cock bobbed next to Sasha’s leg, thick and moist. The dark pink head sat on top of the chocolate shaft like a cherry and Sasha wanted it inside him so bad he could taste it.

Sasha strained against his restraints, his mouth open to pull in the air. When he came, hot fluid spattered his chin and covered his chest and stomach. Steve pressed his legs open against his restraints and continued to massage inside him, prolonging the orgasm somehow and making Sasha whimper.

Sasha looked over at the bed and blinked. Neal knelt behind Carlos, buried to the hilt in his ass. How had Sasha missed that until now? Both men had paused, though, staring at him. Neal met his gaze and smirked, then started pumping inside Carlos. Sasha’s breath caught as he watched them.

“You like watchin’ them, huh?” Steve noted. He unclipped Sasha’s arms and then his ankles.

“Steve-O, get over here,” Neal commanded. “Let Carlos take care of that.”

Sasha rolled to his side as Steve approached the bed and the younger man swallowed his erection. Steve started rocking his hips as Neal resumed his strokes.

Carlos shivered, caught between the two men, then shuddered. Neal thrust once more and collapsed against him, pumping, and Carlos twitched. Sasha watched as Carlos braced himself until Steve climaxed in his mouth.

Afterward, Carlos shot Sasha a smug look and he glared back. Envy that the other man got both Steve and Neal at the same time tried to push out his afterglow.

Carlos chuckled and went to shower with Neal. Steve scooped up Sasha and moved him to the mussed bed. He curled up next to Sasha, a huge warm weight around his body, and stroked him from the back of his head to the swell of his ass. Sasha tried to stay awake but his body gave up, sated.

Chapter Fourteen

Marking Territory

Sasha woke late the next day to a quiet room. He loved sleeping sandwiched between Neal and Steve. A note on the bedside table told him Neal had work in his office, but that Mario would make him something to eat.

Sasha certainly wasn’t going to starve here, that was for sure…

He took a quick shower and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and slipped downstairs.

“Hey, babe,” Neal greeted, looking up from his computer. “You hungry?”

“I am, actually.”

“Good thing I own a restaurant, then, huh?” Neal chirped. He stood. “Come on, I’ll walk you over.”

Mario, as it turned out, found the fact that Sasha was a vegetarian to be a challenge. The cook prepared a thick wrap for him, filled with vegetables and a tangy sauce, and had him sit down. Neal kissed him before returning to his paperwork across the hall.

Sasha sat at the best table in the Factory’s restaurant. Shoved in the corner of the kitchen, the cooks scurried around him, getting ready for the lunch rush. Over this busy kingdom ruled Mario, the iron fist in the oven mitt.

Munching on his veggie wrap, Sasha watched the huge cook. The man stood with hands on hips barking out orders. Distaining chef’s whites, he wore a red muscle shirt that showed off bulging biceps and tattoos. A bandana covering a short crew cut replaced the required hair net. Mario also wore the black cargo pants and combat boots like the rest of Neal’s men. He differed in one major way from the others.

“Neal tells me you’re not a tiger,” Sasha prompted between swallows.

“Nah, too tough, didn’t need those shifter germs to heal me.” Meaty fingers gestured at furrowed marks that trailed down the side of his neck. “Got chomped and clawed a bit is all.”

“So you weren’t bitten?”

“Yeah, it bit me, but a bite isn’t a surefire guarantee. Not everyone bitten gets it. Guess I just got strong genes.” Mario shrugged.

“Yeah, but it messed up his pretty looks.” Paul pulled out the chair next to Sasha and dropped into it.

“Beard hides the ones on my face. Besides, now you have a better chance with the ladies.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Like there are so many around here.”

Sasha stuffed more food in his mouth to muffle his giggle. He certainly didn’t plan on complaining. The hot guy ratio suited
him
just fine.

Mario shook his head. “You need to catch them here eating before the restaurant closes and switches to the club. Better yet, come out with me.”

“Don’t really want to hook up with a stripper and catch some weird disease after surviving getting the beasties.”

“Shut up. She was a nice girl.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. I’m not one of your busboys.”

“Like I’d let you work in my kitchen, you pussy.” Mario pointed at his ass. “Kiss it, a-hole.”

“Not me, ask Doc.”

“Busy eating, keep me outta this,” Sasha protested, laughing.

“You’re such—” Paul broke off as static erupted from the radio clipped to his belt.

Sasha couldn’t understand the garbled words but Paul jumped up from the table. “Carlos says there’s activity in the alley, caught our new buddies pissing on the building.”

Sasha blinked, that presented an odd mental picture. Mario looked grim and headed for a cabinet.

“God dammit,” Paul shouted from the door to the kitchen. “Neal!”

“What? I’m busy,” Neal yelled back from his office.

“Russians!” Paul sped down the narrow hallway between the kitchen and the office.

In a flurry of motion, the office door flew open and Neal appeared, beating Sasha to the alley door.

“Stay back,” Paul and Neal both yelled at him while bolting outside.

“Not a chance,” Sasha shot back.

The alley stretched, quiet and empty, but shouts came from the end near the street. He slowed down as he approached the men gathered at the mouth of the alley. Petya and Iosef squared off with Carlos and Paul. Petya glanced over and their eyes met. The Russian grinned slowly, his expression arrogant.

“
Devochka
.”

Sasha’s hands tingled and he wished he had a weapon. Prickles went up and down his neck and his heartbeat thudded against his chest. Gods, it would feel good to beat the shit out of these two.

Neal approached the two Russians and they backed up.

Paul whipped forward while Petya’s and Iosef’s attention centered on Neal. Paul moved too fast for Sasha’s eyes to follow. Petya flew sideways into the fence and slid down, dazed. Paul rounded on Iosef and the big Russian bolted.

“You’ll pay for Alyosha.” Petya rolled to his feet in a fluid motion and sprinted after Iosef.

“Pussies,” Carlos shouted.

Sasha laughed.

Neal rounded on him. “I told you to stay inside.”

“So?”

Carlos squeaked, trying to keep from laughing. Neal glared at him and he backed away, hands up.

“I’m your lover, not your employee, Neal,” Sasha said, keeping his voice down.

“They could have had a gun.”

Sasha went cold. “Oh.”

Neal snorted, a soft puff of air. “Oh.”

“Dude,” Carlos shouted.

They turned as one, but Carlos hadn’t addressed them. Sasha craned his head around to see Paul pissing on the bricks. Paul finished and turned, catching all three of them watching. His hands stopped tucking his package away.

“I’m covering their scent.” Paul grinned, eyes twinkling.

“Watch. The cops’ll show up now,” Sasha muttered.

“You’re just teasin’ us,” Carlos complained.

Hearing a step behind him, Sasha turned to find an unfamiliar bouncer. This must be TJ. The big man held an enormous pistol in one hand. TJ’s eyes flicked to Sasha and then the Marine spun to stalk back inside without speaking, walking past Mario, who stood in the doorway with his assault rifle.

“That’s TJ,” Neal murmured.

“I guessed.” Sasha shivered, unsettled.

“Come on. Let’s go back in. Do you wanna hang out in my office while I finish the paperwork? Keep me company?”

“Sounds good.”

Neal hooked an arm around his shoulders and they walked back together.

Chapter Fifteen

Vadim’s Visit

Sasha curled up on the couch in Neal’s office, with more snacks from Mario piled on the end table. He tried to concentrate on reading, but his eyes kept straying back to Neal’s face. Smooth-shaven from that morning, Neal’s cheekbones stood out in the sharp planes of his face. His cinnamon-brown gaze narrowed periodically at the numbers on his screen, and then he’d type with firm movements.

Sasha shook himself, pulling his attention back to his book and the same paragraph he’d read three times. It made no more sense the fourth time he tried.

A light knock startled him and he yanked his gaze back to his book, feeling like he got caught in the act.

“Sarge, we’ve got a problem,” Carlos announced. “One of the Russians is here.”

Sasha shot upright.

“Petya? Here?” Neal growled.

“No. It’s Ivan’s second banana.”

“Vadim.”

“Yeah, him. What do you want me to do?”

“What’s he doing?”

“Eating lunch.”

Neal stared at him. Carlos fidgeted with his hair and then put his hand down.

“Have Steve bring him in. Keep an eye on the outside. These guys are like cockroaches; where there’s one, there’s more.”

Carlos nodded and stepped out. Before Sasha could get his shoes on, Steve appeared. The man that walked in with him made Sasha’s blood run cold. Blond hair swept back from a wide forehead, light gel holding it in place. Cold blue-grey eyes, like moonstone only less friendly, flicked to Sasha and then dismissed him.

That pissed him off. He let the anger flood him; it chased some of his apprehension away.

“You’re back.” Neal’s voice came out cold enough to frost glass.

Steve closed the door and crossed his arms over his chest. “Walked in the front door, bold as brass.”

Vadim shrugged. “Next time, maybe I use window.”

Neal snorted. “What do you want?”

“Ivan wants to apologize. Pyotr Ivanich acted without his authorization.”

Sasha’s eyes widened. Vadim used Petya’s formal name and patronymic, just like an old-fashioned house servant or something out of a Russian movie. It told him another thing as well, that Vadim and Petya were not close friends. He wished he could tell Neal mind-to-mind, but he’d just have to wait until Vadim left.

“Apologize.” Neal cocked his head. He glanced at Sasha, like a neon sign blinked over the bruises on his face.
 

Vadim’s eyes flicked to Sasha and back. “Disrupting your business was unfortunate.”

“His business,” Sasha burst out, fury sheeting through him.

Vadim smirked but kept his eyes on Neal. “Perhaps we should talk alone. We have business to discuss, you and I.”

Sasha glared.

“He stays,” Neal grated. “Speak your piece.”

Vadim turned his head and stared at Steve. Sasha could see the black tattoos peeking out of the Russian’s collar. He wore an undershirt, hiding the rest of the designs like a holstered gun, but Sasha recognized Mafia body art.

“He stays, I stay,” Steve purred.

Shit. Sasha didn’t want
Steve
to get in a fight because of his stubbornness. He started to move but Neal shook his head slightly. Sasha froze.