Fight (15 page)

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Authors: Kelly Wyre

Tags: #LGBT, #Contemporary

BOOK: Fight
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Laura swiveled her head back toward Nathan. Her eye shadow was smudged, the dark circles under her eyes were like dry, angry ponds, and her full lips were too pale. She looked exhausted and past the point of no return. She had Nathan’s sympathy right up until her lips spread into a slow, hollow smile. “No wonder you don’t want my cock. You’ve got his.”

“Get out, Laura.”

“He your drug of choice right now, Nathan?”

Nathan grunted like he’d been physically hit. His hatred of the situation and involving Fury in it knew no bounds. “Just go. Please.”

“Or you’ll what?” Laura taunted. “Beg me not to tell Daddy?”

His thoughts snapped and scattered, retreating from the tsunami of sheer, unadulterated rage that finally destroyed its paper-thin, patchwork dam. He sucked a ragged breath, and events got confusing. He knew he went for Laura, Mel started yelling like a harpy in heat, and somebody stopped him, bodily, from doing whatever it was he’d been about to do. Since Nathan had no idea what that was, he was grateful for the intervention. He’d never killed with his bare hands before, and he didn’t really want to start now.

In the next second, Nathan blinked, and a cold shock of air hit him. Laura was looking up at him from where she had landed on her ass outside his apartment door. Nathan didn’t know if he’d thrown her there, if Fury had, or if she’d stumbled on her own. Mel scrambled to kneel beside her, helping Laura to her feet. Black curses rose like smoke, Nathan had a second to worry that the neighbors might call the cops, but then Fury was shoving him away to slam the door and throw the bolt.

Nathan rested against the bookshelves, breathing fast and waiting for his tunnel vision to widen. Fury made no move to help or get closer, standing like a statue guarding the entryway.

When Nathan had some measure of control within his grasp, he ran his fingers through his hair, pivoted, and headed toward the tequila and a shot glass. He heard the sound of car doors slamming, and he flinched. “Sorry you had to be here for that.” Nathan yanked the stopper out of the bottle, steadied a shot glass, and poured. A fleeting voice told him that alcohol might not be the best option right now, but he told it to shut up. If he didn’t do something to calm down, he was going to rattle apart.

Fury joined Nathan, hands in his pockets and eyes still on the door. “It’s okay.”

“It’s really not.”

“Seen worse.”

“Well, still. Sorry. But thanks. For the help, I mean. For not letting me…”

“No problem,” Fury said, as though Nathan were thanking the man for moving a heavy piece of furniture, not coming between a brawling Nathan and his bitchy fiancée.

“She’s not always like that.” Nathan threw the drink down his throat, closing his eyes to savor the burn. “Like I said, she’s been acting crazy lately.” Fury didn’t say anything, and it took mere seconds for the silence to pressure Nathan into babbling.

“She’s drunk. She doesn’t usually… I’ve not seen her that drunk in…” Nathan put his head in his hands. “See, my fiancée? She’s a ladies’ woman.”

“She’s a lesbian.” Fury grunted like it all made sense to him finally. “Explains why you’re not her type.”

“Yeah. It does. And yeah, she is. Gay, through and through, though she’s not completely opposed to screwing men, literally and metaphorically speaking. I’ve been lucky enough to have it both ways, and bonus”—Nathan poured another shot, tossed it down, and slammed the glass onto the Formica—“she seems to think she’s allowed to come over and use my bedroom for a munch fest any time she wants, which, thank God, isn’t all that often.”

“Why does she think that’s okay?” Fury asked, getting closer. Not close enough to feel breath or heat, but near enough that Nathan smelled aftershave and soap. His brain was late to the party, only now realizing that if Fury had been in the room to witness that round of stupidity, it meant Fury was also now still in the room alone with Nathan. Nerves misfiring through the panic and the lust, Nathan’s body began singing Fury’s praises; pulse and cock harmonizing in a Siren song. Fury went to fetch the six-pack and the other bottle where they’d landed during the tussle. He returned to Nathan and set the drinks on the counter by Nathan’s elbow.

Nathan swallowed. “She probably thinks it because I’ve let her.”

“Pushy, ain’t she?” Fury asked. He twisted the cap off the biggest bottle of lemonade Nathan had ever seen.

“Yeah, and I’m a fucking lame-ass.” Nathan shrugged. The shots suddenly bloomed hot in his middle, spreading outward to his arms and legs, and Nathan thought about all he’d done to prepare for Fury’s arrival. All that extra cleansing time in the shower… A fever of want joined the tequila heat, and sweat broke out across Nathan’s forehead. Fury drank, and Nathan wanted to lick Fury’s throat. He loved the way it moved when Fury swallowed.

Fury eyed Nathan alongside his drink, wiping his mouth when he was done. “You’re not a lame-ass.”

“You don’t think so?” Nathan begged to differ, seeing as how he’d not jumped Fury in the last ten seconds when obviously they should be buried in one another by now.

Fury shook his head, the shaved portions shiny in the overhead apartment lighting. “Seem more like a nice guy caught up in somebody else’s bad idea.”

Some of the fire died inside Nathan. He tore his eyes off Fury’s pulse point and fiddled with his empty shot glass. “Not so nice.”

“No?” Fury asked.

“Not exactly.”

“Well, whatever it is, it’s workin’ for me.” Fury laughed one of his throaty laughs, clearly amused. “Though don’t think I’m your usual type.”

Nathan’s own laugh surprised him. “Ah, no. You’re not.”

“Mmm.” Fury put a hand on Nathan’s lower back. Every spare drop of blood went south to his groin and around to savor the weight of that touch. Nathan leaned into Fury, spine curving, and Fury matched the pressure. “Not really into three-ways with two women.”

“Me either.” Nathan’s breath shook on the exhale. “Used to do shit like that with her when we first met. But not… It’s been a long time.”

Fury was quiet, considering, and his fingers rubbed tiny circles that shifted the fabric of Nathan’s shirt.

“Never been a club boy either,” Fury continued.

Nathan winced. “You heard that part too?”

“I heard a lot.”

Emotions that Nathan couldn’t both name and keep his sanity tried to rip him in two. Nathan wondered if it would always be like this with Fury, unhinged and unpredictable, with Nathan’s masks strung out to dry on a line. “I’ve not done any of that since you,” Nathan said around what sounded suspiciously like a gasp. He gripped the counter’s edge, waiting for Fury’s hand to disappear, to fall away from Nathan in disgust. It didn’t. It crept down and under Nathan’s hemline instead, the warm, wide palm resting on Nathan’s bare skin, and Nathan’s knees nearly gave out.

“No club boys?” Fury asked.

“No anybody,” Nathan admitted, struggling to find air or thought or any path that involved living long enough to experience whatever came next with Fury.

“See there,” Fury murmured, slipping an arm around Nathan and pulling Nathan to him. “Told you.” Fury cupped Nathan’s skull. “Nice.”

The kiss erased the days and hours since the last time Nathan had tasted Fury, and Nathan groaned in relief. He plastered himself against Fury, trying to mold them into one person, and Fury’s hands dug into the meat of the muscles along Nathan’s spine and flank. Fury tasted like lemons and sugar, and he felt as solid and concrete as the bottom block of a pyramid.

Gone was Laura’s intrusion, her deals, her promises to a bitchy stranger that Nathan’s will would bend to Laura’s. With Fury’s tongue sliding along Nathan’s and Fury’s fingers urging Nathan to grind his groin into Fury’s, nothing else existed. The world spun slower on its axis, the air cleared, and Nathan sent up thanks as he sank into sensation.

Nathan nudged Fury backward, and Fury complied. They shuffle-stepped toward the couch, Nathan yanking off Fury’s T-shirt with single-minded intent. Fury collapsed onto the sofa still trying to rid Nathan of his shirt, and Nathan ripped it over his head before straddling Fury’s thighs. Both their upper bodies bare, their lips met again. Fury worked at Nathan’s fly, and Nathan lifted himself so Fury could get it undone, push aside underwear, and retrieve Nathan’s cock.

“Ooh, fuck, yeah,” Nathan slurred, and Fury tugged Nathan’s face to his for another meshing of mouths. Fury slowly stroked Nathan, who rocked in a rhythm that dragged his ass over a fast-forming steel line beneath Fury’s jeans. When Fury broke off to go for Nathan’s throat, Nathan realized it really was him making all the whimpering noises. They grew louder when Nathan’s lips were exposed to open air, and Fury only encouraged them by dragging kisses and light suction over Nathan’s skin. Nathan gritted his teeth and ran his hands over the ridge of Fury’s Mohawk braid, over the slope of Fury’s shoulder. He grunted when Fury wrapped both arms around Nathan’s middle, rose, pitched sideways, and put Nathan on his back.


Mmf
…” Nathan claimed Fury’s kiss again, hooked his legs around Fury’s hips, and matched Fury’s forward lunges with equal friction. The denim was almost too rough, and eventually Nathan pried them apart enough to begin undoing Fury’s pants.

Fury let go of a moan that started soft but rose in volume, as though finally set free. “Wanted this,” he whispered, nosing Nathan’s face to the side and nibbling at Nathan’s earlobe. “Oh… I wanted…this.” He shuddered and sighed when Nathan pushed Fury’s pants down, exposing smooth ass and thick dick. Nathan’s entire body contracted at the idea of Fury fucking him deep, hard, fast, furious.

“Yeah,” Nathan agreed, breathing growing more erratic by the second. He got a fist around Fury, stroking. Fury licked the shell of Nathan’s ear, and Nathan tensed to stop himself from writhing.

“Fuck you?” It took Nathan longer than it should to realize that Fury was asking question.

“Can I?” Fury asked again, softly and against Nathan’s cheek.

“Y-yeah. Fury…Hale. You—”

“Good,” Fury rumbled. “
Nngh
… oooh… Good. ’Bout time…”

Nathan started a chuckle that died in the middle when Fury’s eyes met his. The look again, so bare and open, and Nathan didn’t think there was any compromising position in the entire world that could match the vulnerability in those wide, dark eyes.

Fury’s smile softened his features. “Figure it’s about time you got some from somebody who cares about you.”

Any reply was stopped with a kiss and annihilated when Fury reared upright and stripped away Nathan’s remaining clothing. The room was spinning, Fury the spindle, and Nathan could only pant and stare at the sight of Fury on his knees, pants slung low to expose shaft and balls. There was another tattoo just below Fury’s right hipbone. A kneeling abstract figure held an urn on one shoulder, and out of it poured two zigzag lines of water that pooled around the figure’s knees. Nathan reached to touch the ink, but Fury took Nathan’s hand and directed it to Fury’s cock. Nathan obliged, and Fury lifted Nathan’s foot to his mouth. Eyes locked on Nathan’s, Fury kissed the arch and ball, licking between the first and second toes. Nathan’s leg muscles tensed and danced, a quiet, “
Ah
!” escaped his throat, and Fury dragged teeth over the top and bottom of Nathan’s foot.


Ahn
… God…” Nobody’d ever done that before, and Nathan hung on to the couch to try to stop the urge to pull away.

Fury nibbled across the base of all Nathan’s toes, and the only warning Nathan got for Fury’s next move was the glimmer of resolve that set the line of Fury’s lips. Nathan braced, Fury crawled off the couch, and Fury spun Nathan sideways and bent Nathan’s knees to his chest, leaning down to lick and suck one of Nathan’s nipples.

“Christ,” Nathan murmured, neck at a strain and chin tucked to his breastbone. His cock throbbed for more, and he held Fury’s face against him. Fury bit wide around the nipple, sucking and teasing, and Nathan’s lower half thrust against Fury.

“Hold your legs,” Fury suggested, licking his way down Nathan’s ribs when Nathan’s grip grew more lax. Nathan got an arm under each of his knees, and Fury rumbled approving sounds. Effortlessly, Fury pulled Nathan closer to the edge of the cushions, sucked the head of Nathan’s cock into his mouth, and pressed a thumb over Nathan’s asshole.

“Ooh…” Nathan flexed his shoulders and thighs. Fury’s free hand rubbed Nathan’s stomach and stroked his base. “Ooh!” Nathan called louder. He couldn’t move, couldn’t buck into the wet heat sliding along his length, but he could moan and beg in broken syllables. Fury’s head bobbed—up, down, swirl of tongue, suck—and need pooled low, tightened Nathan into a knot of knees and elbows and sweaty skin.

“Sh-shii-don’t…” Nathan cursed when Fury came off his dick only to grunt when slippery, deliberate warmth lapped his balls and trailed a line behind them. “Plea-
nnoh
!” Fury flicked his tongue around and across Nathan’s entrance, and Nathan cried out in surprise.

“Yeah,” Fury whispered, and he licked wide and probed deep and deeper inside. Damp, gentle pressure and wet nudges began adding to the carnal bonfire come to life in Nathan’s guts, and Nathan’s palm were slick where he clutched at his legs. His dick pulsed and jumped with every rhythmic thrust of Fury’s tongue, and in minutes, Nathan was groaning with every breath he managed to take. He had no clue how long it went on, but he knew when Fury started to stroke him again, he was entirely too close to coming.

“Hale,” Nathan called in warning, but Fury merely let go of Nathan’s cock. Fury’s growl was hungry and determined, and it vibrated Nathan’s ass, inside and out. Nathan clenched his teeth, neck complaining in its strain, and he slid his arms down the backs of his thighs. He got a hand on Fury’s head, gripping Fury’s hair and mashing Fury to him, needing Fury deeper and thicker and stretching Nathan wide. “Oh God, oh Christ, Ha—Fur—
oh
.”

Warm, insistent, and damn all, but Nathan didn’t think he’d ever been rimmed like he was somebody’s last meal on earth. “
Ssh-nnngh-goddamn it
, fuck me.” Nathan released himself and Fury, but he froze when Fury sucked at both of Nathan’s balls. Nathan fisted the cushion, yanked at it in pleasured frustration, and Fury licked all the way up Nathan’s body to the juncture of Nathan’s throat and shoulder. A kiss, a hint of teeth, and Fury was pressing right over Nathan’s pounding pulse, pulling at it with a series of muffled grunts that reminded Nathan of a big cat claiming prey.

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