Dirty Angel-BarbaraElsborg (39 page)

“Going off like a rocket.” He pulled Aden to his feet and kissed him. “Sure you’re okay?”

Aden put his hand over Brody’s mouth. “You’re no longer allowed to ask me if I’m okay. Okay? Unless I’m dangling from a precipice or about to get run over. Then take it that I’m not okay and help me.”

Brody licked his palm and Aden moved his hand.

Brody stared into his eyes. “Fuck, you are so gorgeous.”

“You
are
allowed to say that. Often as you like.”

Brody chuckled and buried his face in Aden’s neck.

“If I wasn’t good looking, would you still let me fuck you?” Aden asked.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t get breakfast in bed.”

“Thank fuck I’m gorgeous. I’m wondering how long I can stretch this recuperation. Breakfast in bed is such a luxury. No one’s ever done that for me before. Even though you don’t cook the bacon long enough and the toast’s always a bit cool and—”

“Watch it.” Brody lifted his head and glared.

“We’re okay, aren’t we?”

“So you’re allowed to say it?” Brody smiled. “More than okay. You’re everything I want, everything I need, everything I didn’t know I was looking for.” He slid his hand over the bulge in Aden’s trousers.

“Just at this moment anyway,” Aden said.

“More than this moment.”

“Speak for yourself. I need you right now.”

Aden pulled off his clothes on the way to the bedroom. When he turned to face Brody, he saw the Adam’s apple shift in his throat, his gaze fixed on Aden’s chest.

“I’m still here,” Aden said. “I didn’t die.”

Brody ran his thumb over the scars left by Matt’s knife attack. “Yeah, you did, but you came back.”

Oh fuck. Little did he know.
“Good job I’ve got a pretty face,” Aden said. “And a magical twinkling dick.”

Brody rolled his eyes but Aden knew that had stopped him going any further down the path of thinking about what Matt had done.

“Lie down,” Brody said. “I don’t want you to overexert yourself or your magic dick.”

Aden lay on his back and Brody crawled onto him, supporting his weight on his elbows. As Brody bent to kiss him, Aden’s cock twitched against Brody’s in a kiss of its own. Aden slid his hands over Brody’s arse and rocked up against him. He felt supercharged with excitement, flicking between relaxation and tension as his balls wound up. He dug his heels into the bed as they ground their bodies against each other.

When they ran out of air they broke apart and gasped in unison.

I’d give him my last breath.
The thought made Aden’s heart leap.

Brody smiled down at him. “They’ve done research on why we close our eyes when we’re kissing.”

“Who says I close my eyes? You do. I don’t.”

“Yes you do.”

“Okay, smart arse.” Aden squeezed Brody’s butt and ground his aching cock against Brody’s growing one. “Why do we close our eyes? Because we can’t focus so close in?”

“That’s true but they discovered when people want to concentrate on tactile sensations, they often shut their eyes. Allows your brain to pay attention to other parts of the experience. If you’re focused on a visual task, you’re less aware of other stimuli. Visual sensations overrule tactile ones. Which is why when I look into your eyes, I forget my name. And why a pilot who’s staring at his controls might miss a vibrating warning device.”

“Thank you, professor. I’ve noticed you’re ignoring my vibrating warning device. I’ve been waiting for a bit of tactile sensation for a month.” But when Brody tried to slide down the bed, Aden stopped him. “Let’s pretend I’ve played with you for a bit. I need your arse. Now.” He rolled so that Brody lay beneath him. “We’re going to experiment. See if you can keep your eyes open.”

Aden fluttered his tongue over one of Brody’s nipples and Brody shut his eyes. They both laughed. Aden shifted his hips back and forth, dragging his cock through the junction of Brody’s hips, rubbing his balls and cock, and knew at that moment, he would never do this with anyone else ever again. He didn’t want anyone else. He only wanted Brody. The thought made him choke up.

He took the lube from Brody’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Harry Potter. We need more magic. Where’s the condom?”

“I want you without.”

The breath stuttered in Aden’s chest. “Oh fuck.”

More precome leaked from Aden’s cock.

“Without what?” Aden muttered. “Without wisecracks? Without my filthy mouth?”

“You know what I mean and where is this filthy mouth?”

“Too interested in your sweet mouth.” Aden gave him a wide-mouthed kiss, pulling back to nip Brody’s upper lip.

“You don’t normally take this long.” Brody slid his legs out from under Aden and pulled them up either side of his hips.

“You sure about this?” Aden asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ve never…”

“Nor me.” Brody stared into his eyes.

Aden spread the lube over Brody’s hole, working it around the ring of muscle and just inside. Brody’s cock was filling again. Aden slid a finger into him and Brody moaned. Aden curled his finger and a single touch of that small bundle of nerves had Brody arching into him like a cat.

“Oh that feels…ohh.”

“I wanted to go slow,” Aden whispered, “wanted to savour this but it’s like putting triple cooked chips in front of me and not expecting me to wolf them down.”

“I’m not better than triple cooked chips?”

“We’ll have to see.” Aden’s heart was beating so fast he was having trouble breathing.

Brody stared into his eyes. “I need to be fucked right now.”

“Pushy.”

“Yeah, when I want something.”

Aden positioned himself at the entrance to Brody’s body and pressed in at the same time as he brought his lips down on Brody’s. He captured Brody’s low hiss before their mouths meshed together. Aden kept pushing his cock into Brody until he was in as far as he could go. When Brody’s muscles rippled and clenched around him, Aden made a noise that sounded far too close to a whine.

“That feels so good,” Aden gasped. “Hot and tight and perfect.”

Aden pulled back so he was right out of Brody’s arse, then shoved back inside. Brody groaned but Aden groaned louder as muscles clamped around his dick.

“Okay?” Aden managed to ask.

“I thought we weren’t using that word.” Brody gave a dry, brief chuckle.

The exquisite clamp of Brody’s muscles drove rational thought from Aden’s head and fired the starting pistol on his orgasm, now on a dash to the finish. Brody lifted into his thrust as Aden powered into him. He knew from Brody’s startled gasp that he’d hit his prostate and he made sure he kept hitting it. Aden’s body was instantly caught in the equivalent of a riptide. He was dragged deeper, further out and didn’t fight it. He went with it, let it hold him, swallow him, drag him into a whirlpool, steal his breath, steal his heart.

Brody jerked himself off as Aden increased his speed, fucking him into the bed, pounding into him as Brody bucked up to meet him.

“Fucking hell,” Aden gasped. “You are so fucking hot.”

The world shimmered out of focus as pressure built in Aden’s head. His eyes were closed and he opened them to see Brody staring at him, breathing hard, a smile on his face.

Lights exploded in Aden’s head as orgasm ripped through his body like a violent tornado. His back arched, his cock pulsing and jerking in Brody’s arse and he gave a long, blissful cry of happiness.

Brody pulled him down and Aden felt the wetness between them, belatedly realising Brody had come again. When he slumped at Brody’s side, Brody leaned over him. “You okay—damn—still breathing?”

“Yeah. Just.”

Brody woke the next morning tangled in Aden, arms and legs entwined, faces together, cocks hard. There was no better way to wake. When he thought of how he’d nearly lost him, Brody’s stomach churned.
He wanted to be there for every breath Aden had left to take, wanted to map every inch of his skin, listen to the beat of his heart and match his own to it.
He felt as if the
world was just the pair of them, and that was all that mattered. For the first time in Brody’s life he understood a fear in death that he’d not appreciated before. He was afraid of not seeing Aden anymore, not being with him. What he’d thought he’d had with Matt was nothing compared to this.
I love him.

“Quit staring at me,” Aden mumbled without opening his eyes.

Never.

Brody let his fingers drift up Aden’s back. There wasn’t a mark on it which was impossible. Those scars couldn’t have disappeared completely but they had. Aden had healed Leah. Impossible. Made Odin and all those other pets better just by handling them. Impossible. Not died when Brody had hit him with his car, or when he’d fallen off the roof. Improbable.

“Stop thinking.” Aden rolled onto his side to face him, then dragged his hair out of his eyes.

Brody hadn’t asked questions since Aden had come out of the hospital. He had plenty of them, but it was more important that Aden got well. Now, he needed to know everything.

“What’s the trick with the feathers?” They’d been in Aden’s blood-stained coat which had been handed to him when he’d left the hospital.

Aden’s lips tightened. He turned away, pulled open the bedside drawer and handed a black and white feather to Brody. “I think if you toss them now, they won’t come back.”

“It’s not a magic trick you can do?”

“No.”

Brody frowned. “What then?”

“I told you.”

Was there some jump he was supposed to be making, some leap that would catapult him to the truth? He was seized with a surge of irrational anger that after all that had happened there were still secrets between them. Brody loved him, but he wasn’t going to tell him. Not yet. Not until Aden opened up.

“What bird did the feathers come from?” Brody asked.

“Not from a bird.”

Brody examined them, pulled his fingers along the shaft then rubbed the barbs. “There’s no other source of feathers. Unless you’re telling me they’ve been manufactured and are supposed to be from some mythical creature.”

“Not mythical. Not manufactured. They were pulled out of my back. That’s the third time I’ve told you.”

Oh Christ. What am I supposed to say to that?

“Why were feathers in your back? Had someone pushed them in there?”

“I had wings. They were yanked out,” Aden said quietly.

Why did Aden persist with that? Brody swallowed hard. Saying the word didn’t make it sound any more feasible.

“Yep.”

“Why were they pulled out?” Brody wasn’t sure why that was the question he asked and not—which mental health facility did you escape from?

It was on the tip of Brody’s tongue to ask him if he was joking, but the look on Aden’s face told him not to. Whatever this was, it was not a joke.

“I don’t understand,” Brody mumbled. The erection he’d hoped to make use of had gone. He’d wanted Aden to open up and now he wished he hadn’t.

“Can you take the truth?” Aden said in a whisper. “I tried to tell you before but you didn’t believe me. I’ve probably already told you too much, but I guess I’d have been stopped if they didn’t want me to say anything. They probably thought you wouldn’t believe me. Who would?”

“Tell me again.”

“I was shot in the Octoplex and I died.”

“You died? How can…? What the…? You’re not dead now.” Just sick.
Oh fuck. I can’t deal with this. Not another guy who’s mentally ill.

“No, I’m not dead now.”

“Aden. You have to see how crazy this sounds.”

Aden stared at him. “You’re clever. Think it through. Open your mind to possibilities beyond sense, beyond the explicable.”

There was such hope and determination in Aden’s expression that Brody kept going. What was the harm in accepting something…magical had happened?

“You died and… You’d just saved lives at the concert, given a kid your hiding place, tried to defend yourself and were shot. You did something good, something heroic, but almost the first thing you told me about yourself was that you were bad. You stole, lied, fucked around. You killed your mother, but you were a kid, that—”

“I knew what I was doing. I wanted her to die more than I wanted her to live.”

“So you died and…where did you end up?”

“Some holding station where they judge you. An angel and a demon. But they couldn’t agree about me.”

It was suddenly as if a series of lights went on in Brody’s head. Electrical current surging, synapses snapping until one huge white ball detonated in his brain. But even as a voice told him Aden was telling the truth, another voice told him it was all a fabrication, that yet again he was letting his heart overrule his head.

“I came out as half angel, half demon. One white wing, one black. A dirty angel with a filthy mouth. They couldn’t decide what to do with me. I was an enigma. I was given a month to show what sort of man I really was. A month and they’d decide whether I went to heaven or hell.”

Brody wanted to pull him into his arms, kiss him, stop him speaking.

“You killed me when you hit me with your car. I had seven chances. That used one. Saving Jamie used another. Another went in the flood. Another when Twinkle threw me. I kept dying. I used up my last life when Matt stabbed me.”

Brody was having trouble understanding how a guy he thought he knew could sound so…not that guy. “You’re saying you’re an angel?”

Aden heaved a shaky sigh. “No, not now. I was a half-angel I guess. I was given another chance.
You
were my chance.”

No, no, no.
Brody wanted to scream. How could Aden expect him to believe this? He could feel his future sliding away. Aden was ill. There was a logical, rational explanation for
everything and it had nothing to do with angels and demons.

“I don’t believe in angels,” Brody said.

A muscle ticked in Aden’s cheek. “Neither did I.”

“Maybe you’ve imagined it all. You were concussed in the attack on the Octoplex, not shot.” That made sense.

Aden sagged against the pillow disappointment clear on his face.

“What were you supposed to do when you came back?” Brody asked.