Smoke & Mirrors (8 page)

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Authors: Charlie Cochet

Tags: #gay romance

BOOK: Smoke & Mirrors
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Dex nodded. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his mouth. “Can we do it in bed?”

“Of course.” Sloane got up and pulled the comforter down. He waited for Dex to climb in under the covers before turning off the light in the room and joining him. Sloane snuggled close, spooning Dex from behind, their fingers laced together. The moonlight filtered in through the curtain, and Dex was grateful for it. With Sloane holding him, Dex recounted everything he remembered about his encounter with Wolf, leaving no detail out, not even the dream he’d had of Sloane.

“It’s what kept me going,” Dex confessed. “Seeing you again. Holding you. Kissing you.”

Sloane planted a kiss behind Dex’s ear, and Dex shivered like he always did. It felt good, like it always did, and a fiery desire burned through him. He longed for Sloane’s touch, for the taste of him, the feel of him inside. Sloane was safe. His home.

“Sloane,” Dex breathed, pushing his ass back against Sloane’s groin.

There was no need for Sloane to ask if it was what he really wanted. These days they were so in sync it was almost scary.

Sloane slipped his hand under Dex’s T-shirt. He caressed his skin, his fingers brushing over Dex’s nipple and making him shiver in Sloane’s arms. Gently, he rolled Dex onto his back, planting kisses over his face, down his jaw and neck before moving his mouth onto Dex’s. Feeling loved by Sloane, safe, protected, knowing Sloane was there to catch him if he fell was all he could think about and feel. His thoughts were occupied with sweet, languid kisses, Sloane’s tongue tangling with Dex’s, tasting and savoring every inch of him. He caressed Dex’s cheek, his skin burning. Dex slipped his fingers into Sloane’s hair and hungrily returned his kisses, moaning against him when Sloane rolled over him, knowing how much Dex loved to feel Sloane’s weight on him.

Sloane used his knee to spread Dex’s legs, and he lay in between them, a low moan escaping him when he cupped Dex through the cotton of his pajama bottoms. Dex whimpered, pressing his leaking cock into Sloane’s hand. Sloane broke their kiss only to shower Dex with more kisses across his flushed skin. Sloane’s moan melted into Dex’s name, and it was the most erotic thing Dex had ever heard. He ground his hard erection against Sloane, his mouth eager to accept anything and everything Sloane offered him.

“Sloane…. Please.”

Sloane tugged Dex’s pants down his thighs, palming his hard cock. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Dex arched his back, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets. His eyes opened, and he fell into those fiery pools of molten amber, just as he always did.

“You’re so beautiful,” Sloane murmured, his gaze never leaving Dex’s face.

“Sloane, I need to feel you inside me.”

Sloane didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer, tossed it onto the bed, and finished removing Dex’s clothes before he swiftly undressed himself. Sloane’s urgency spoke volumes. He wanted this as much as Dex, yet he was incredibly gentle, taking great care. Normally Dex would have insisted Sloane have his way with him, as rough as he wanted, as fast and dirty, but this time Dex welcomed the tenderness, craved it. Sloane very carefully sank into Dex, lowering himself onto his elbows, his lips brushing over Dex’s ever so softly. Dex parted his lips, inviting Sloane’s tongue inside his mouth. He held Sloane close to him, groaning at the sweet burn of Sloane gingerly pushing himself in down to the root, then slowly pulling almost all the way out. It was a sweet agony. Soon the pain gave way to pleasure, and Dex was lost in Sloane’s hands, in his mouth, and the pumping of his cock inside him.

“We’re in this together,” Sloane murmured against Dex’s hair as he quickened his pace.

Dex was perfectly aware of what he was referring to. Sloane didn’t want Dex retreating into himself the way he had when he’d been hunting down Hogan. Dex’s need to protect Sloane, to get justice, had driven Dex down a disturbing path. He’d lied to Sloane, set up a base in his ex-boyfriend’s basement, barely ate, barely slept, and had come home on more than one occasion battered and bruised. Sloane couldn’t—
wouldn’t
, let that happen again.

“Don’t push me away. I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Dex nodded, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Dex….”

“You’re right. For now, could you…. Could you make me forget? All I want to feel is you.” Dex dug his fingers into Sloane’s shoulders, wincing at the pain it caused. “Fuck me, love me, fill me with nothing but you, Sloane.”

Sloane pulled out and drove himself deep inside Dex, hitting his prostate and making him cry out. It was glorious. Dex begged Sloane to do it again. He arched his back and held on tight, refusing to let Sloane off him. He rubbed his cheek against Sloane’s before wrapping his arms around Sloane’s neck and kissing him as if the answers Dex longed for could be found in Sloane’s lips.

Lifting up just enough to push his hand between them, Sloane took hold of Dex’s cock, and all it took was a couple of strokes. Dex’s orgasm barreled through him, and he clung to Sloane for dear life, his toes curling, his mouth open in a silent gasp. Sloane quickly followed, his soft gasp cut off by Dex’s kiss. He bit down on Sloane’s bottom lip as Sloane rode his release, his body shivering as he came. He pumped himself inside Dex a few more times before pulling out with a hiss and then collapsing beside Dex, his fingers stroking Dex’s hair, making him smile. These days Sloane was always touching a part of him, and Dex loved it. Loved to feel that intimacy between them no matter where they were.

The bed moved as Sloane got up and reached over to his nightstand to get some wet wipes from the drawer. He cleaned Dex up before tossing the little white sheets into the small trash bin Dex had placed beside the nightstand. He wasn’t a fan of having body fluids on the carpet, even if it was their own. Sloane was always teasing him about his obsession with cleanliness.

Sloane pulled Dex closer, and Dex turned in his arms, kissing him before snuggling close, his body aching but in a good way this time. He felt heavy, and as Sloane trailed little kisses along Dex’s face, exhaustion settled in and Dex drifted off into a deep sleep, or so he believed.

A low buzz wrenched Dex from his dreamless sleep, and his heart pounded in his chest. It was so dark. Where the hell was he? He very carefully sat up, relieved to find he was at home, in bed. He glanced down at Sloane asleep beside him. What was that noise? He turned and spotted his smartphone on the nightstand buzzing quietly, the screen flickering to life. He picked it up, frowning at the faceless little avatar on the display indicating someone he didn’t have in his address book was calling. After some hesitation, he swiped the screen and held the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s so very sweet how much he loves you.”

Dex froze, his blood turning to ice at the sound of Wolf’s voice. He gripped the phone until his fingers hurt. “You son of a bitch. This isn’t over. When I find you—”

“The suit.”

“What?”

“Would you like to know why the suit?” Wolf asked pleasantly, as if he were calling for a friendly chat.

“Sure,” Dex ground out through his teeth.

“It’s just like the one John was buried in.”

Dex fisted a handful of the bedsheet. “If you’re trying to intimidate me—”

“I’m trying to warn you. Consider your next move very carefully, Dex. Those who hired me won’t hesitate to put you in the ground, just like they did with your father. Actually, that was the plan. Hence the suit. I was ordered to bury you after retrieving the information. Between you and me, I’m rather pleased with the outcome.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Dex glanced over at Sloane, surprised he hadn’t woken up. Sloane was such a light sleeper, especially when he was worried about something.

“You escaped. No one has ever escaped me before. I have great respect for you, Dex. Though I’m still very curious as to how you managed to break through the restraints.”

Dex shakily put his fingers to Sloane’s neck. Please, God….

“He’s fine. I gave him a little something to calm him. He’ll wake up feeling like a million dollars.”

Dex swallowed hard. He slowly got off the bed and turned on the lamp. The room looked empty, but that didn’t mean it was.

“Oh, Dex, I left quite some time ago. You’re a very lucky man. You should have seen him. He was wrapped around you, so protective.”

“You could have killed us,” Dex said, feeling his knees go weak, forcing him to sit back down on the edge of the bed. Wolf had been in their house. Again. He’d stuck a needle in Sloane. Again. And neither had heard a thing. Who the fuck was this guy?

“Why would I kill you? No. My contract is void. My employer—or should I say former employer—has failed in their assessment of you. I was led to believe you were an ordinary man.”

“I am an ordinary man.”

Wolf chuckled. “You are many things, Dexter, but most certainly not ordinary. I am no longer associated with my former employer. I detest incompetence. Do try not to die, Dex. I’m quite fond of you.”

There was a pause before Wolf spoke again, and Dex could hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, and do let Sonya know she still owes me for Budapest.”

What the ever-loving fuck?

The line went dead, and Dex stared at his phone. His heart was beating a mile a minute. Dex quickly scrolled through his contacts until he found Sparks. She answered on the first ring.

“I’ll call you back.”

She hung up on him, and he scowled at his phone. Before he could redial, a call came through his phone, the caller unknown.

“Hello?”

“That number is not secure. What is it?” Sparks asked in her no-nonsense tone.

“How do you know Wolf?” The line was so quiet that for a second Dex thought she’d hung up on him.

“He said something to you?”

“Yeah, we just had a very pleasant conversation. He was in my house again. How the fuck did your operatives not see him?” Dex jumped from the bed, the fact Sloane didn’t stir only fueling his anger. Realizing he was naked, he quickly found his T-shirt and pajama bottoms and dressed as he spoke. “Who the fuck is this guy, and how do you know him!”

“Dex, calm down.”

“Calm down? Sloane was drugged. The guy was in our bedroom while we slept.
Again
.”

“You’re no longer in danger as far as Wolf is concerned. If he wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel better. Your protection is for shit.”

“I’ll deal with my operatives. What did Wolf say to you?”

Dex ran a hand through his hair as he paced. “He said to let you know you still owe him for Budapest. What does that mean?”

“It means Wolf, or Fang, as I knew him—though that’s simply another alias—was once a TIN operative.”

Dex’s mouth hung open. “Wolf was TIN?”

“Years ago, he was one of our best operatives.”

“And what? He decided Therian Intelligence wasn’t enough of a challenge?”

“Back in 2005, I was part of a covert team sent to Budapest. Somehow information was leaked, and the operation went terribly wrong. Wolf was almost killed. His partner wasn’t so lucky. Wolf believes someone at TIN betrayed him, leading to Tucker’s death. Tucker and Wolf were close.”

“So his friend dies, and Wolf goes to the dark side?”

“Wolf doesn’t make friends. He’s all about the job. He
is
the job. Tucker left behind two small children, his wife having passed away a few years prior.”

“What happened to the kids?”

“They live with their uncle. He’s a good guy. A white tiger Therian like his brother, Tucker. They were close.”

Dex could understand how Tucker’s death would have hit Wolf, especially the possibility of someone he trusted betraying him, but to allow his grief to turn him into a monster who sold his skills to the highest bidder? Just what kind of operatives did TIN recruit?

“Wolf won’t be back. He’s probably on his way abroad by now. He never stays in the country long. Too risky.”

“And why do you owe him?”

There was another long pause on the line, and Dex supposed he should be grateful he’d gotten this much out of her. Frankly, he was surprised she’d even answered his question. Usually he was met with the same excuse about information being not relevant.

“He saved my life. We were the only ones who made it out of there. I was one of the few he still trusted after that.”

Shit. “Okay, so is he a threat? Will he be back?”

“No. If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s his word. Whatever you may think of him, he’s honorable.”

“That’s nice. You’ll have to excuse me for not fanboying all over him, what with him torturing me and all.”

“New operatives are on location securing the area.”

“Because the old operatives did so fucking well,” Dex scoffed.

“The old operatives have been incapacitated.”

“What?
All
of them?”

“Like I said. Wolf was one of our best.”

With that, the line went dead. Dex stared down at his phone. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Part of him wanted to be fucking livid that TIN couldn’t keep tabs on one guy, no matter how good he was. Another part of him feared Wolf might not be as honorable as Sparks believed him to be and he’d return. Maybe he was honorable when he was with TIN, but that could have all changed when he decided to stick needles under people’s fingernails.

Dex returned his phone to his nightstand and lay down facing Sloane. His initial thought was not to tell Sloane what happened, but he’d learned his lesson about keeping secrets from the man he loved, and he had no intention of doing it again. It might hurt Sloane, but they’d work through it together.

Dex cuddled up to Sloane, checked his breathing again, and held his hand before closing his eyes, hoping he could get some sleep.

The next morning, Sloane took the news of Wolf breaking in again as well as could be expected. He called Sparks up, swore like a drunken sailor, and then beat the shit out of the trash can after taking it outside. He bent it back into shape—a somewhat Tetris-piece-looking shape—then stomped up the front steps, stopping on the top stoop where Dex stood in his stormtrooper bathrobe and Monty Python killer rabbit slippers, sipping his coffee. He kissed Dex’s cheek, the whole thing feeling so wonderfully domestic.

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