Blood Howl (23 page)

“Asking you to clean would be like asking elephants to fly,” Redford pointed out, breathing a quiet laugh, returning the kiss in a brief brush of contact. His hands dipped to his shirt, eyebrows creasing as he tried to undo the buttons with an unsteady grip.

The laugh was caught in another kiss. Jed couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “We’ll have to watch
Dumbo
sometime,” he murmured, his fingers going up to join Redford’s, shucking off his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. Jed’s followed, the T-shirt tugged off and flung away, Jed happily running his hands along those gorgeous shoulders, the slope of his chest.

There were bruises standing out like vicious reminders along Redford’s ribs. Jed paused, frowning down at them, before he ducked his head to ghost kisses along them, whispering apologies into Redford’s skin. Redford winced a little at the contact, shaking his head at Jed’s words before he tugged Jed up to kiss him. It wasn’t brief and almost chaste this time, it was deeper, longer, Redford’s hands wrapping around Jed’s shoulders to keep him close.

The water was warm. Jed could feel the faint spray against his back from the water hitting the half-open shower curtain. Eager hands fumbled with belts, and pants puddled on the floor as they kissed, each parting for breath feeling like they were dying, each renewed embrace that much hungrier. Jed backed them into the shower, laughing as he was drenched, tugging Redford in after him. “Don’t leave again,” he demanded, craving the feel of Redford wrapped around him, that
safety
that only existed in his arms.

“I won’t if you won’t,” Redford replied, keeping one arm wrapped around Jed’s shoulders for balance, not entirely steady on his feet. He turned, tipping his face into the water with a wince to start washing the blood off of his face, keeping in contact with Jed like he couldn’t bear to let go.

“Deal,” Jed whispered. He wondered if Redford had any idea what that meant, for him to promise that. If there was even a way Jed could explain it to him. Shit, they’d had enough trauma for one morning. Redford was still bloody and bruised. The water was hot. The shower was big enough for two, and for the first time Jed had someone he wanted to share it with. They could heart to heart later. “Here, sweetheart,” he murmured, reaching for a washcloth, wetting it under the spray. “Let me help.”

With infinite tenderness, Jed dabbed at the dried blood, examining the wound just under Redford’s hairline. “That’s not too bad,” he reassured Redford with a kiss to his cheek, brow furrowed as he concentrated. One arm was firmly looped around Redford’s waist, holding him up. “Get a little gauze on it, make sure you rest, and you’ll be right as rain in a day or so.”

“I’m not sure being naked together in the shower is
resting
.” Redford smiled at him, almost a fully fledged grin, that rare spark of mischievousness lighting up his eyes. “You’re distracting.”

“Good.” Jed tossed the washrag away, lightly backing Redford up against the shower wall. “That is exactly what you need, Mr. Reed. A good, old-fashioned distraction.” His fingertips wandered down Redford’s side, taking the opportunity to lightly probe his bruised ribs and ensure there wasn’t anything broken. Satisfied, he tipped Redford’s chin up to paint his tongue in circles down to the hollow of his throat. Redford’s hands fluttered for a moment before they came to rest on Jed’s shoulders, holding him closer, tugging him in for another kiss.

How was anyone that
beautiful
? The water was sluicing down Redford’s skin in little rivulets, pooling in the dips of his collarbone, sliding across the curve of his chest, the indentations of his stomach. The drops caught at his hips, glistening in the fine hairs above the proud line of his cock. Jed watched, fascinated, hands slipping across wet skin as he touched, as he explored. His tongue went out to catch a droplet falling from Redford’s nipple, tasting the sweet tang of his skin.

Arousal ran hot through his veins, urging him to touch more, to relearn the swoop of Redford’s lips, the curve of his jaw. They pressed together under the downpour of water, bodies tightly intertwined, hands grasping, breaths caught in moans. Redford’s fingers found Jed’s hardening cock, wrapping around taut skin, and Jed gasped, the sound lost in Redford’s mouth. His own hand closed around Redford’s dick, thumb tracing across the slit. Redford murmured something against Jed’s lips before he cut the words off, tightening his fingers around his cock instead, stroking him with slow, almost lazy movements of his hand.

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” Jed moaned breathlessly against Redford’s ear. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I just want you to feel good. God, you feel so damn
good
.” Redford looked at him like he’d forgotten what pain even was, eyes dark with arousal. Jesus, he was gorgeous like that.

Their hips moved in time, hands quickening as they lost themselves together in the increasing waves of pleasure. Each movement sent Jed groaning and pleading, closer and closer to that beautiful precipice. Redford’s hand was perfect, long fingers wrapped around him, stroking him harder. The water beat down on his shoulders, slicking skin, beading along Redford’s jaw.

Forever they stayed like that, suspended in pleasure, in growing ecstasy. Redford’s name tumbled from Jed’s lips in a shout as he came, as his body went rigid in a white-hot flash of arousal. His hand encouraged Redford to come with him, to throw himself into the fire. Sagging against him, mouth wide open and pressed against Redford’s shoulder, he wrapped his fingers more tightly around his cock, thumb rubbing the vein at the base, twisting his wrist just how he knew would feel best. He wanted Redford to come, to forget, for a moment, the horrors of the last day. All Jed wanted was to take all the pleasure still soaking through him, trembling in his muscles as aftershocks, and give it to Redford times three.

When Redford came, it was with a shuddered moan, and he leaned against Jed’s chest like Jed was the only thing holding him upright. Sagging back against the wall, heaving in low, shallow breaths, Jed found he was grinning. Full on, ear to ear
grinning
, like he was some jackass in a romantic comedy about shoes or whatever the shit those movies had in them. “God,” he groaned, running his fingers through Redford’s wet hair, tousling it back out of his face. “That was fucking amazing.”

Redford mumbled a sound of agreement against his shoulder, running his palm over Jed’s side in long, content sweeps. “I really thought showers were just for getting clean,” he said, and Jed could feel his smile against his skin.

“Not in my house.” Jed laughed, languid in the aftermath of pleasure. “We believe in water conservation and as much sex before lunch as we can get. It’s in the Jed Walker Bill of Rights.” Nipping playfully at Redford’s earlobe, he flailed out one hand to find the soap. “But since we are all about the pleasing here at
casa del Walker
, it’s possible I can drum up some support for your position.” A broad leer broke across his face, and he huffed another laugh, whispering in Red’s ear, “I want to know
all
your positions.”

Soaping up his hands, Jed left a trail of bubbles behind as he painted his palms down Redford’s arms, his chest, his sides. He washed him slowly, scattering every movement with soft, lazy kisses, with smiles buried into skin, with soft laughter lost in the rushing of water. He’d honestly never had anything like this before. There was no rush, no lead up to anything more. No one searching for their pants or running for the exit. Just gentle exploration, learning each other, sharing kisses and air and sweet words hidden in the space between them.

“I could stay here forever,” Redford murmured against him, and he’d apparently gotten bored of getting clean, far more interested in nosing along the underside of Jed’s jaw. Despite the hot water, despite the fact he’d just come, little shivers worked their way down Jed’s spine. He closed his eyes, head tipped back, that shit stupid grin still curving up his lips.

“The shower would probably get cold,” he pointed out, voice hoarse and distracted. His hand wandered down to tease fingertips along the curve of Redford’s ass. “But maybe we could train Knievel to bring us food and beer.”

“We’d get sick from standing under cold water so long, but it could be worth it.” Redford laughed quietly, his hands contentedly sweeping over Jed’s back.

Oddly enough, Jed really did think he could stay forever. He wasn’t a steady person. Despite his homebody contentment with his apartment and his solo life, that was exactly the point.
Solo
. He’d never been this utterly happy to stay around one person. There wasn’t that itch to find an exit strategy, to make excuses, to kick Redford the hell out of his sanctuary. The idea of doing any of those things struck him as utter lunacy. It didn’t make any sense, but somehow the doe-eyed bastard had wormed his way in deep.

“You need to rest,” he pointed out, nuzzling a kiss in under Redford’s ear. “I should put you to bed.”
Their
bed. The words rose unbidden in his throat, an ache of completion he had no idea what to do with. “Our bed.” They came out. They were there all at once, undeniable. It was more terrifying than a thousand testosterone junkie werewolves could ever be. Two words and Jed could barely get a breath in, his chest was so tight. “We should… you should rest.”

Apparently he’d said something right, because Redford smiled up at him like he’d just offered to give him the moon and hang it in the apartment. Well, maybe not the moon, considering the whole werewolf thing. The sun. He was Journey Walker, the sun-giver. At least he was in Redford’s eyes, in the… the
something
that shone there, that drew Jed in, hooked deep into his heart and wouldn’t shake free. “Are you going to rest with me?”

“Yeah,” Jed said, voice cracking, running his thumb along Red’s jaw. “Yeah, let’s get some sleep before tonight.”

They shared Jed’s one towel—he really should consider splurging on a second one if this was going to keep up—Jed rubbing Redford’s hair dry, grinning at the way it stuck out all over. Red ducked down, smiling shyly at him from under the towel, and Jed couldn’t breathe for that tight twist in his gut again. Whatever this was, it was making it hard to do anything but
ache
to be nearer.

Tumbling into bed, Jed settling in happily to Redford’s arms, it didn’t take long before they both nodded off. Jed didn’t dream. He didn’t have to. Nothing that existed in his brain could hold a candle to the feel of Redford, warm and solid, wound around him like it was all they’d been born to do.

The late afternoon sun teased Jed’s eyes open a few hours later. Jaw cracking in a yawn, he rolled over and tried to bury his head under his pillow. It didn’t work. His mind had kicked into gear too quickly, and he grumbled to himself as the wonderfully hazy, in-between drifting faded into planning and a definite need for coffee. Untangling himself from Redford gently, trying to make sure he didn’t wake him up, Jed paused to smile down at him.

Red was sprawled across the pillows, mouth open a little as he snuffled further into whatever dream had captured him. His hair fell across a peacefully unlined brow, and Jed gently pressed a kiss to his temple. A wondering kind of pain caught in his throat, as undeniable as it was confusing. Whatever it meant, it was a low burn in his veins, a palpable
hurt
with the width and breadth of it.

Tugging on his boxers and pulling a T-shirt over his head, Jed shuffled out to the kitchen with another yawn. He needed a mainline of caffeine. David would be back over in an hour or so, and they would finalize his personalized message to Fil. Jed was thinking explosions would be the perfect touch. Maybe a few well-placed anti-aircraft missiles sent right into his fucking living room, just to make his point abundantly clear.

Digging through the cupboards, Jed cursed again, loudly this time, slamming a door in frustration. No coffee. Not even his emergency stash he hid in the back with his resident bread mold colony. Checking his watch, he sighed heavily and went looking for pants. There was a cart just outside his building that usually stuck around until after the dinner rush. Maybe they’d have horrible, bitter street coffee in little Styrofoam cups. It’d be a start.

Half distracted, he shoved his feet into his boots and ducked out the door. He’d be gone five minutes at most. Once he got back he’d wake Redford up, and maybe they could have a little pre-mission planning session of their own. A faint smile tugged up one corner of his mouth as he thought about sleep-swollen lips and tousled hair under his hands.

The bullet took him by surprise. Then again, didn’t they always?

He knew, he’d always known, there were going to be bullets out there with his name on them. Came with the job. One of the fuckers would be The One, would be more than a week spent in a hospital or a really great scar for later. One of them would be
it
. Couldn’t fight destiny. Live by the sword, die with a big old hole in your neck, or however the saying went.

Pain wasn’t immediate. At first it was the noise, so goddamn loud that Jed instinctively ducked. A spray of brick against his cheek from the one that missed and another report, making his ears ring, and he looked down in shock. Rose red bloomed across his chest, eating up the white of his shirt, soaking him through. “Fuck.”

Stumbling to his knees, Jed looked around wildly. His fingers were too thick, shaking too hard, and he couldn’t manage to get his gun out. Fuck, he didn’t want to die without a gun in his hands. He needed it; he couldn’t go down like this. The cement was dirty in the hallway, and his cheek pressed against it, grit grinding into his skin. There were boots, footsteps, his pulse throbbing in his ear. Sticky blood under his ear, a puddle on the floor. That wasn’t good.

“Red,” he croaked. No one heard him. Maybe he didn’t say it at all.

God, he hurt.

Was it cold? He should have worn a coat. Red would be cold; he didn’t have a coat yet. Why the hell hadn’t Jed gotten him a coat? Jesus, he needed to make sure Redford wouldn’t be cold. But his arms weren’t listening to him anymore. His legs sprawled on the ground, his body tossed out like some broken doll.