Burning Bright (21 page)

Sasha bent forward and rubbed his cheek along Neal’s ass and licked along the skin. Neal tasted good, like the fruity massage oil but also clean, like he’d just showered. Sucking lower, he reached the smooth, hairless sack. He sucked one of the testicles into his mouth gently and Neal whimpered, thrusting gently against the mattress.

Sasha lifted the leg next to his face and rolled Neal onto his back. Before Neal could speak, he sucked the other testicle into his mouth. Neal’s hands spasmed in his hair, stroking it with trembling fingers. Sasha reached around without letting go of the skin in his mouth and caught the bottle of lube. He squeezed some of the viscous stuff onto his fingers and slipped his index finger below his lips, along Neal’s crack.

Neal’s head fell back and he moaned again. “It’s been a long time…” he whispered.

“I’ll be gentle,” Sasha promised, kissing his ball sack gently. “You sure you want this?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Neal started to say something else but Sasha eased a gentle finger into the taut anus. Neal grunted and pressed down on his hand, while Sasha massaged his opening with firm fingers. He managed to squeeze more lube one-handed onto his free fingers and then pressed Neal’s legs up to tent on either side of Sasha’s body. He stroked the muscles around Neal’s opening with long movements and then dug the heel of his palm into the perineum.

Neal cried out, grinding himself against Sasha. Neal started to speak and Sasha slid two fingers into him on a gentle glide. Neal’s eyes closed with pleasure and his pulse pounded against the skin of his neck.

Sasha unrolled a condom and slipped it on, shivering at the chill of the material. After slicking himself with lube, he slid both hands under Neal’s knees and lifted, then pressed himself against the waiting opening.

Neal arched his back, a cry somewhere between a shout and a moan coming out of him. Moving gently, Sasha slipped in and out without thrusting, giving Neal time to adjust to him. The muscles resisted at first, tightly clamping his tip, but they relaxed gradually and let him in deeper. He sheathed himself slowly and Neal moaned, a deep growly sound that made Sasha’s nipples tighten. He slid his hands along the big Marine’s stomach, stroking the soft skin.

Neal liked it hard and fast when he went down on him, so it stood to reason the top liked the same thing in other aspects. Sasha drove his hips forward, hilting himself in the tight ass of his lover, and Neal groaned.

“God, you are the perfect size,” Neal managed to mutter.

“This isn’t too rough, is it?”

Neal shook his head. “Fuck no, baby. You can be a little rougher, if you want. I can take it.”

That was all the encouragement Sasha needed. He lifted Neal’s legs and set them against his chest. Neal’s head fell back as he panted, a shine of sweat on his chest and face. Big hands splayed on the mattress and Sasha caught them in his own. He thrust again and Neal writhed under him.

“Look at me.”

Neal did as he asked, the warm cinnamon of his eyes glazed a bit. His mouth parted as Neal panted and he pulled against Sasha’s hands. Sasha moved his hands to let Neal grip his wrists, giving him tacit control over the situation, and Neal grinned at him. He yanked Sasha forward, and Sasha pumped his hips as hard as he could. His thrusts bounced the bigger man against the mattress but Neal bore down, abs clenched. Sasha took that as a good sign and let himself pound into the other man with abandon.

Neal shouted and writhed under him and Sasha sped up. Then his own orgasm tore a shout from his throat. Neal panted under him, close to climax.

Sasha whipped himself out of Neal and engulfed Neal’s cock in his lips. He sucked for all he was worth, using his other hand to massage the slick scrotum. Neal’s back arched and the tip of his cock forced itself down Sasha’s throat as he came in a hot rush of fluid.

Good thing Sasha didn’t have a gag reflex anymore. Practice paid off.

Sasha tightened his lips and milked Neal’s penis.

“God.” Neal writhed, his hands spasming in Sasha’s hair.

Sasha chuckled but didn’t relent. He massaged Neal’s scrotum with a firm hand and then squeezed both ass cheeks. He sucked once more, as hard as he could, and pulled up and off Neal’s cock with a loud smack. Tossing his used condom into the trash at the foot of the bed, he set the oil and lube on the table. Then he crawled onto the bed next to his lover and collapsed onto his back.

Neal flipped the blanket up over them both and pulled Sasha against his body. As Sasha drifted off, Neal’s body rumbled and a heavy purr burst out of him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Moving

Sasha woke to the heady scent of onions and eggs and staggered out to the kitchen. Neal stood at his stove, naked, cooking like a pro. He glanced over and winked.

“Good morning.” Neal popped a piece of tomato in his mouth. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine. Really well, actually. You’re cooking?”

Neal shrugged. “I got hungry, and you were still asleep. I didn’t want to go out for breakfast. Why?”

‘Cause this place is a dump?
Sasha shrugged, but didn’t answer out loud. Instead, he hit the can, then showered thoroughly and brushed his teeth. The floss came all the way out of the container, the last of his bathroom supplies, and frustration threatened to boil up. He needed a job, dammit.

He finished and came out to sit on the couch, still naked.

“Were you serious?”

“’Bout what? Here, try this,” Neal ordered, thrusting a spoon of red vegetables at him.

The salsa hit him between the eyes, sweet and hot at the same time. “Fuck.”

“Too hot?”

“How the hell did you make
that
in this dump?”

Neal smirked. “’Cause I know how to cook. You had the ingredients, I put them together.” He paused. “And it
is
kind of a dump.”

Sasha flushed. “It was the best I could do.”

Neal shrugged and returned to the stove. “That was then.”

“Were you serious?”

“About…”

“Your offer.”

“I recall making several offers, Sasha. How come you don’t go by Alex? Half the guys are afraid of your name ‘cause they can’t pronounce it.”

Americans
. He resisted rolling his eyes. “Because that isn’t the nickname for Aleksandr.”

“Sasha just sounds like a girl.” Neal smirked, then got down two plates. “You sure keep a neat place.”

“Yeah, well, just ‘cause it’s a dump doesn’t mean I have to live like a slob. And Sasha is only used for guys in Russia.”

“Still sounds—”

Heat filled him, even though he knew Neal only teased him. “You gonna answer my question or just tease me?”

Neal eyed him. “Yes, I was serious. But about which part, exactly?”

About the part where you said you loved me
… “About me borrowing a condo and doing stuff around your place.”

“Yes, I was serious.” He paused and eyed Sasha without speaking.

Sasha blushed so hot it prickled, and looked down. Neal walked again the few feet it took to get from the kitchen to the couch and stood in front of him. When Sasha didn’t look up, Neal crouched down to bring their faces to the same height.

He looked up and Neal leaned forward and kissed him, the taste of salsa strong on his tongue. Sasha embraced him, the hot skin of his body soft and compelling. The short hair on Neal’s head, buzzed close to the scalp, thick and silky under his hands. They separated and Neal gazed into his eyes.

“I said, I love you.”

Sasha’s heart started to pound. “Yeah.” His voice came out without any sound and he cleared his throat.

Neal chuckled and turned back to the stove, stirring the egg mixture. “Food’s almost ready. You want to eat on the couch or the table?”

“Table, I guess.”

Neal served the eggs and got toast as well. He rummaged and put butter and a jar of jelly on the table and then slipped into his boxers.

“You ready?” Neal asked as he began eating.

“For what?” Sasha frowned as he ate a bite of eggs and gazed at his new steady lover. He didn’t like the term “boyfriend”, exactly. It made him sound like a chick. But lover had a nice ring. Very French.

“To move.”

Sasha set the fork down before he dropped it. “You’re serious?”

Neal shrugged. “Why prolong it? The end of the month’s only two weeks away. It’s not like you have a shitload of stuff to move.”

“Good point…”

Neal didn’t wait for more of an answer than that. He pulled his phone out. “Yo, Steve. Yeah, it’s a go.” He listened a moment and then said, “Ten-four.” He snapped the phone closed and leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of “that’s that”.

“What happened? And why does it sound like you planned the move already?”

“’Cause I did,” Neal told him, unrepentant. “You gonna eat your food? I made breakfast, after all.”

He laughed and took another bite, marveling at Neal’s effect on him. They finished their meal in companionable silence, and Sasha got up to wash dishes. He turned in time to see Neal buckling his belt and suppressed a surge of disappointment. Instead, he got dressed and started packing.

Moving, as it turned out, was a lot easier when your crew consists of trained soldiers. They had two trucks, Sasha’s and the red one that Carlos usually used. Paul pulled rank and drove, making Carlos and Steve squish next to him in the cab. The younger Marine griped about it all the way up the stairs and into the apartment.

“You’re tidy,” Paul grunted, glancing at Sasha.

“I’ll take the kitchen,” Steve said. “Carlos, you get the bedroom stuff.”

“We’ll do the furniture,” Paul said, glancing at Neal.

“It’s only my bed.” Sasha finished drying the lunch dishes. “What do I do?”

“Bathroom,” Neal and Paul said in unison.

By the time they were all done, only an hour had passed. The handmade bed, carefully wrapped, traveled in Sasha’s pickup while in the other one boxes crammed the back. Sasha followed Neal over to the Factory and parked as the other truck pulled up. Neal directed him to an empty spot next to Steve’s motorcycle. “You want to unpack or take a break?”

Steve hopped down. “We’ll have Misha and Leo bring this stuff in, Boss.”

“Tell them to be careful with the bed.” Sasha eyed the back of his truck.

“I’ve got to finish the mid-month order,” Neal said then. He looked at Sasha uncertainly. “That’s probably no fun to watch.”

Sasha shrugged. “I wanted to go for a run; I can do that while you work.”

“Hey, I can get us tickets to the Bears,” Carlos told Sasha.

Sasha hefted a box. “You’re kidding, right?”

Carlos followed him inside, another box in his hands. “You don’t have to wash the dishes and do chores, man. Neal only said that to get you to move in. Have some fun, live a little.”

“Well, who’s gonna do it? You?” He set the box on the floor of Neal’s spare room.

“Why would I?”

“Because you live here?”

“So? That’s what Leo and Misha are for.”

Sasha snorted. “Don’t be a slob. And I’m a Packers fan. I’ll get killed if you take me to Soldier Field.”

“How will anyone know?”

“By my
coven
, when they find out.”

“I bet I can distract you from those boxes, Doc.”

Sasha moved the box on top of the others that Neal and Paul already left. When Carlos didn’t say anything else, he turned to look at him.

Carlos sucked the first two fingers of his right hand into his lips and unbuckled his belt with the other. He slid his hand into his pants and gripped himself, holding Sasha’s gaze the entire time.

“We’re supposed to be unpacking.”

The Latino smirked. “Go ahead, Doc. No one’s stoppin’ ya.”

Sasha walked forward and grabbed Carlos’s face in both hands. He tasted good, like some sweet candy, and Sasha groaned into his mouth.

“Yo, Carlos, you need to—” The voice broke off.

Sasha sprang away from Carlos and whirled in time to see TJ staring at him with huge green eyes, frozen in the doorway. The minute their eyes met, TJ flushed a deep, cherry red. The outline of an erection strained against his faded jeans.

“Hey, TJ,” Sasha murmured.

The door slammed.

His empathy flared and he could feel TJ’s arousal even through the closed door. On its heels, he sensed a kind of deep inner conflict, almost self-loathing. The sound of boots boomed against the floor of the other room and then the front door to the apartment banged shut.

Chilled, he followed Carlos into the living room.

“Jesus, Teej,” Carlos muttered. He turned to Sasha. “It’s not you. TJ has issues.”

“I’m sorry,” Sasha murmured, not quite sure what he was apologizing for.

Carlos shook his head, irritation making his skin darken. “Never apologize. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.” He clenched his left fist, clearly frustrated. “Come on, let’s get your stuff unpacked and get you settled, all right?”

Sasha nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He followed Carlos back into the bedroom, wondering where he’d put all his stuff.

TJ’s energy still tickled the edge of his awareness, but he tried to focus and ignore the man.

Didn’t really work, but he took a deep breath and strengthened his shields.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Battle Lines

Thursday morning, Sasha woke before Neal. He left a note and slipped out to go for a run. He wanted to whoop with elation and all but sprinted down the sidewalk to the lake, flitting across the streets against the light and dodging slow-moving cars.

He wished he had Felipe’s mobile number. He could ask for it the next time they met. Running by himself wasn’t nearly as satisfying as chasing the jaguar up and down the lakefront. Instead, he stayed on well-populated paths and kept his eyes open.

Of course, that didn’t prevent the Russians from being out in the open…

He came around the curve by Montrose Harbor and froze, chest heaving.

Petya stood in the path, smirking at him. “I knew you’d come here alone,
devochka
,” the Russian sneered. “All I had to do is wait.”

“Petya, this is silly.”