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“Come to me, Uaithne. Don’t be afraid.” Nox’s hands cradled Nelson’s cheek and trailed down his chest. “Come for me,” he crooned.
He slid down Nelson’s body, Nox’s face nuzzling lovingly as he kissed and whispered ancient, haunting words in Gaelic. Scalding, sucking heat wrapped around Nelson’s shaft and his eyes rolled at the hot flickering of his nerves. No one had ever touched him like that, or used their mouth there, and Nelson wasn’t prepared for the intense pleasure.
It radiated from Nox’s lips and Nelson’s groin, growing stronger and more intoxicating as the light and the beat grew brighter and louder around them. Golden, vibrant joy flooded Nelson, making him lighter and he could feel every part of his body exalting in the warm pleasure as it overwhelmed him. He was new and alive as he glowed brighter and brighter with every exquisite pull of Nox’s lips around his cock, sucking Nelson to rapturous delight.
“Nox!” Nelson sat up, gasping and his chest heaving as he searched the dark shapes around him for something familiar.
“Smerblsteep,” Nox slurred before a soft snore floated from him, immediately soothing Nelson.
Mildew, nicotine, mold, greasy food and bad coffee from the diner, and decades of dirty feet. The unmistakable aroma of a cheap motel room assaulted Nelson’s nose, a stark reminder that he was not in his clean and orderly apartment.
He muttered in disgust at his surroundings, then jumped when he felt a warm, wet sensation spreading in the front of his boxers. Nelson pushed back the covers and gripped his crotch in confusion, then threw a startled glance at Nox. He was still asleep and curled on his side, facing Nelson.
Nothing like this had ever happened before. Not even when he was a teenager and during puberty. So Nelson was deeply troubled and confused as he eased out of the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. He turned on the light and peeked back to make sure, but Nox’s hands were tucked under his cheek. Nox looked so innocent, like a little lamb. It didn’t seem possible that Nox was capable of the act he had performed upon Nelson.
Hold on.
Nelson’s wet boxers were momentarily forgotten as he hurried to the bed. His neck craned and Nelson ducked and weaved so he wouldn’t block the bathroom light. Nox had pushed the covers away on his side and down past his waist. His entire upper body and the thigh that Nelson could see were covered in tattoos.
And Nox no longer looked like an innocent lamb as he mumbled incoherently and shifted onto his back. An arm flung over his eyes, exposing his entire chest and torso, causing Nelson to smother a startled curse. He was shaking as he backed away from the bed, his eyes glued to the symbols on Nox’s body. He had already seen them in the dream and they’d be burned into Nelson’s brain for the rest of his life.
You saw them before you fell asleep.
He begged his brain to accept the explanation but that wasn’t how it had happened. Nox had been dressed when he went into the bathroom to take a shower. And Nelson had turned off the lights and was turned toward the wall when he came out, out of respect for Nox’s privacy. They hadn’t looked at each other or said anything beyond “Goodnight.”
How could Nelson know that Nox had a large, round, intricate geometrical design in the middle of his chest? And a horned skull across his abdomen. There were pentagrams, snakes, various winged creatures, a key, a feather, several spiders, skulls… Nelson’s heart began to hammer again when Nox hummed happily and rolled away from him, exposing his back. Nelson hadn’t seen that in the dream, and stared in horror at the antlers on each of Nox’s shoulder blades.
Nox had said that they were common totems of male strength, energy, and fertility. But Nox didn’t strike Nelson as particularly concerned about his virility or reproducing.
A wave of embarrassment rushed over Nelson as he recalled just how potently alluring and virile Nox had been in the dream. Nelson backed into the bathroom and slowly closed the door so the creaking hinges and warped jamb wouldn’t disturb Nox.
A wet washcloth and a fresh pair of boxers later, Nelson returned to bed feeling too shaken and confused to sleep. But instead of pondering why Nox had so many of the same symbols from the crime scene on his body or whether they were relevant to the case, he was distracted by what had occurred after Nox appeared in his dream and what had occurred in Nelson’s underwear when he woke up.
Why now?
He finally had an opportunity to redeem himself and make his father proud for once. Nelson didn’t need to know that his body was capable of that. He could still feel a lingering hum in his veins and hear the echoes of his pounding heart and the beating of the drums. His limbs were heavy, yet he was light and sated in a way he had never known before.
Nelson wanted more and he wanted to wrap his body around Nox’s so he could breathe him in and know every part of him. Instead, Nelson crossed his arms over his chest and focused on the dark stains on the ceiling tiles and listened for leaks as the wind and sleeting rain grew louder. He hoped that Dr. Bixby and his team had made it back to Roanoke and weren’t still at the crime scene, hurrying to gather evidence before it was lost to the storm.
But try as he might, Nelson kept hearing Nox purring in his ear and in his head, calling him Uaithne. The name had been a shock at first, like a psychic slap, but each time Nelson heard it he felt a compelling pull in his center and a need to hear Nox say it again.
The need rose within him as the faint echo of the drums grew louder and Nelson wanted to feel Nox’s hands and his beautiful mouth on his cock again. He craved the connection and the pleasure Nox had bestowed upon him. Nelson craved it so badly, it scared him as he imagined Nox between his thighs, greedily sucking as his head rose and fell.
“Stop!” Nelson whispered, scrubbing his face and begging his brain and his body to forget and go back to the way it was before he’d met Nox at Georgetown.
Nelson had…fucked people. Twice. He inwardly winced at the vulgarity and irony. He could say the word when he was furious as an expletive but he got embarrassed if he referred to intercourse as fucking.
Yet that was exactly what had occurred when he’d been approached by an older woman in the library during his freshman year at UMD. She said she’d had her eye on him for a while when she drove him back to her place and bounced on him like a trampoline for an hour before calling him a cab. And Nelson had accepted when an upperclassman elbowed him in the gym shower and asked if he wanted to come back to his room. Once again, Nelson had been present as his body was ridden like a piece of equipment until he was given a slap on the ass and a “Thanks, bro. I needed that,” on the way out.
Erection and climax had occurred in both instances because there had been sufficient friction. But all in all, both encounters had been about as invigorating and as satisfying as the endorphin rush from a good run. And all things considered, Nelson preferred running because there was a much lower potential for a mess—physical, professional, or emotional. He had accepted those offers out of curiosity and in hopes of learning “which way” he swung on the sexual spectrum only to learn that none of it had appealed to him.
Everything had been different with Nox, though. It certainly wasn’t fucking and had involved every part of Nelson, physically and spiritually. He still felt connected to Nox and Nelson didn’t know what to do with this new…need.
What if it got worse?
Nelson wondered if it had started at the university when he snuck into Nox’s lecture. He had been as captivated as the students. Nelson scoffed at himself for how concerned and distracted he had been by that first warm tickle and the easy peace he’d felt with Nox. He’d happily trade that for the blind, burning desire and devotion he was currently experiencing.
His prior indifference had seemed like a good thing and Nelson thought of it as a strength, not being handicapped by his hormones and baser instincts. He had believed it made him clearer and that his independence was an asset. Nelson had never felt lonely or the need to date or “get laid.”
