Strongman (22 page)

Nudging the vran in the ribs, he cantered down into the Fair, his eyes darting everywhere. But when he reached his usual spot, just beyond Ember’s wagon, there was an empty grassy space. Griff frowned and scratched his head.

“Hey, Griff!” Leo paused in mid-stride, a bundle of poles over his shoulder. “Gods, it’s good to see you, man. He’s been like a fellwolf with a toothache.” He winked and waved an arm in the general direction of the menagerie. “Over there.”

Oh.

His pulse drumming in his ears, Griff dismounted and led the vran down the concourse. On the outer edges of the Fair, he slowed and stopped, staring. His wagon sat next to a much smaller, shabby one.

He could feel the smile spread over his face, the hot blood surge under his skin. The small wagon rocked a little, as though someone heavy was walking about inside it. Griff tethered the vran in the shade, squared his shoulders and sucked in a huge breath.

Every nerve in his body tingling, he set his hand to the latch and opened the door.

Fort whirled, the cup of roberry slipping from his fingers.

“How about that?” said Griff mildly. “They really do bounce.”

They stared at the rocking cup and the spreading stain on the tattered rug. Fort licked his lips. “How are you? I mean…your head. How’s your head?”

Griff reached behind him and pulled the door closed. “My head is fine,” he said.

“And so is the rest of me.”

“Yes.” Fort backed up a step until his shoulders were pressed against the wall.

“Would you, ah, like some roberry?”

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“No, thank you. How’s your wound?”

“Healed.”

In the silence, Griff could have sworn he heard the heart thumping in Fort’s broad chest. The other man kept flicking him glances from under lowered brows, his gray eyes gone to smoke. Anticipation flowered in the pit of Griff’s belly, warm, wicked and utterly delicious. Unobtrusively, he let out his breath and the knots in his shoulders unraveled. Gods, he’d been strung as tight as a well-pitched tent since the day Fort had left him with the Aetherii.

And Twister’s balls, he was going to savor every moment of this! Enshrine it in memory forever. Because this was it, the rest of his life, all bound up in the big warrior in front of him. One look at Fort’s face, at the split-second flash of naked yearning when he’d spun around, and all his doubts had melted away.

He knew what—and who—he wanted and he thought Fort did too. All he needed to admit it was the slightest push. And Griff intended to
shove
.

He took a deliberate step forward, put his hands on his hips and tilted his head.

“Fortitude McLaren,” he murmured. “Fort. You see? It came back to me the day after you ran.”

“I didn’t
run
. I had a job to do.”

Griff continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Don’t be scared,” he said soothingly, as if to a child. “I won’t hurt you, I swear.”

Fort came off the wall as if he’d been goosed. “
Scared
?” he roared. “Why, you little shit, I’m not—”

Griff stood his ground. “
Aren
’
t you
?”

The other man’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Griff waited. Eventually, Fort reached out and gripped his shoulder. He gave a short nod.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, you know. I heard it all, every single word you said.”

Ruddy spots of color burned on Fort’s cheekbones. “I didn’t think… You wouldn’t settle unless I was making some sort of noise.” His hand dropped to his side. “
All
of it?”

“Even the lullaby, Traveler save me.”

When Fort winced, Griff chuckled. Then he sobered. “You shouted at me, you know. Bellowed. Said I wasn’t to leave you. You said, ‘
Not now
,
not when I
’
ve only just
found you
.’” He moistened his lips, achingly aware of Fort’s gaze on his mouth. Raising his eyes to capture that turbulent, smoke-dark stare, he said, “You meant it, didn’t you?”

Fort’s strong brown throat moved as he swallowed. “Yes,” he said in a slow, ragged whisper, as if the word had been dragged out of him. “But it’s insane. Why you? I’ve never…not with a man.”

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All amusement had fled. Griff jabbed a hard finger into Fort’s chest. “Then work it out, mighty captain. I did. The logic isn’t that difficult.”

“Stop that.” Fort grabbed his wrist. “What logic?”

“It’s the same with me. I prefer women, all right? Always have. And you’re such a godsawful, fucking mess, you said it yourself. Too difficult, too complicated. So why can’t I just walk away? Why can’t you?”

“Griff—”

Stepping right into Fort’s body, Griff wrenched himself free and dug hard fingers into the big man’s biceps. “I’ll tell you why.” There was enough strength in his shake to make the other man shift his feet. He bit out the words, low and intense. “I fucking love you. Forever, gods help me.” Griff uncramped his fingers, moved away from the heat of the other man’s body. “Got it?”

Fort choked, but his beautiful eyes went so dark they shone like water on a moonless night. Griff braced himself for the rejection, ready to push past it, force the other man to confront his feelings. But it didn’t come. Instead, Fort said hoarsely, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m bloody sure! Why would I say it if I wasn’t sure?”

Fort shook his head and Griff slid a hand up over his shoulder, pressing his hips into Fort’s, rubbing the rigid length of their cocks together. Twister, that was good! He reached up to fit his lips to the other man’s and paused.

No, not this way.

Deliberately, he took two paces back, never shifting his gaze from Fort’s. “I won’t seduce you again, not this time.” He backed away ‘til he felt the narrow bed hit him behind the knees. “My life is yours.” His knees went weak suddenly and he sat with a graceless thump, grateful for the support beneath him. “And not just because you saved it. But if you want more, you’re going to have to come over here and take it.” His attempt at a smile went awry. “All by yourself.”

A flush spread out of the open collar of Fort’s work shirt and raced up over his neck and face, until his olive skin glowed. “You think I don’t know how I feel?” he growled.

“I’m not stupid and I dreamed—” He broke off.

“Go on,” breathed Griff. “What did you dream?” Slowly, he leaned back on his elbows, spread his thighs. Fort’s molten gaze dropped to the bulge of his crotch and his breath hitched. Griff’s cock throbbed in response.

“Doesn’t matter.” His big fists clenched and he took a step forward. “I want, I want—” Another step.

“Yes?” murmured Griff, his voice a thread, his cock rearing hard against the fabric of his trews. Absently, he curled his fingers around it.

“I know I’ve lost my mind, but I don’t fucking care.” Fort ran a hand through his hair. He lifted his gaze, his magnificent eyes blazing, and Griff’s lungs seized up. “I want you. Only you.”

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Without warning, Fort hurled himself at the bed, driving Griff into the mattress.

Wood creaked ominously and the bed listed to one side and then subsided to the floor.

Griff laughed aloud. He was still laughing when Fort slammed their mouths together, his fingers spearing into the tumbler’s hair to hold him still.

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Drown me in your night
-
dark cloud
,

Drown me
,
drown me
,
drown me
.

And I
’
ll be glad to go
,

Wrapped in your hair
,
my silky shroud
.

Ah
,
softly
,
softly
,
softly
.

“
Lufra
’
s Cloud
”,
Song of the Feolin (trad
.
)

Lufra, it was beyond good to feel Griff’s hard body straining against his, to feel the softness of his lips, the strength of his jaw. He tasted wild, fierce, male—intoxicating.

Fort had known the tumbler would return to the Fair. While he’d refused to let himself think about it, every night for the past month he’d hadn’t slept worth shit. And at unpredictable intervals, his guts would cramp up for no reason. Hell, it wasn’t often Fort McLaren didn’t know what to do, had no idea what to expect.

It had only taken a few days with Griff in the Winged Envoy’s palazzo to push him to desperation point. Watching the tumbler sleep, holding him when he grew restless, it had driven him mad with a jangling confusion of feeling. And by the time Griff had recovered sufficiently to study him with a dark thoughtful gaze, he felt as though his thoughts were tattooed on his forehead.
I love you
.
I
’
m fucking insane
,
but I love you
.
More
than I loved Bekah
.
Harder
,
deeper
.
More
.

Never in his life had he felt so exposed. Fuck it, so panicked! Suppose Griff returned to himself and decided Fort had been some aberration in his life? Or a joke? Or a fling? Or—?

The waiting, the uncertainty, was simply unbearable.

So when Tril snapped at him, “Look, Fort, for the twentieth time, my professional opinion is that he will not die if you leave,” Fort had made his decision. Before he made a complete fool of himself, he’d taken his chance, seized on the messages Jan wanted him to deliver in Mother’s Hearth, and run.

But gods, how he’d missed the little shit, missed him with an empty aching weariness that had ground him down, made him savage and short-tempered. When he’d turned to see him grinning at the door, the sloe eyes sparkling with wicked heat—

A sort of red haze had descended over his vision and he’d come within a hairsbreadth of picking the tumbler up, shoving him against the wall and devouring him in a couple of huge, hungry bites.

Lufra,
yes
!

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He dug his fingers into the waistband of Griff’s trews and yanked. Without missing a beat of the kiss that glued their mouths together, the tumbler raised his hips. Fort’s hand closed hard over his leaping cock and Griff groaned into the big man’s mouth, the words barely intelligible. “Fuck me. Gods, fuck me.”

Fort wasn’t capable of speech at all, his balls so swollen and hot, he could feel the offering already seething at the broad root of his cock. He wrenched himself away, gasping, and Griff flipped himself over, his taut ass curving up, his legs spread as far as the trews would permit. The dark pucker of his asshole clenched and fluttered with his frantic breaths and he reached beneath him to tug on his erection.

Cream, he needed some kind of cream. Fort ripped his trews down and his cock sprang forward like a hungry beast. Shit, shit, shit! Where—? He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think at all.

“Pocket,” panted Griff, fumbling with his trews. “
Quick
.”

With a bark of laughter, Fort took the little pot from him. “You knew, didn’t you?”

He tossed the lid over his shoulder and dug his fingers into the slippery stuff.

“Hoped. Aaargh!”

“Serves you right.” Fort added another finger and twisted. Griff sobbed a curse, his hips rising. “You wanted quick.” He scooped out another generous fingerful and slathered it over his heavy shaft. Then he set his broad head to the small opening and pushed.

Griff grunted as his flesh parted reluctantly to let Fort in, the incredible heat gloving his glans, the narrow passage squeezing down on him. All the fine hair on Fort’s body stood up and shivers of delight spilled down his spine, a fierce, dark joy blooming behind his breastbone. “That’s the head,” he rumbled. “Ready for the rest?”

“Fuck, yes!” Griff pushed back, took another inch. “More!”

Fort flexed his hips and thrust, sinking to the balls in one long glide, the sensation so excruciatingly pleasurable his vision blurred. He dug his fingers into Griff’s hips and leaned into the other man’s back, pushing his shirt out of the way so he could get to the expanse of sleek muscled skin. When he tried pulling back slowly, Griff dropped his head to the pillows, his desperate fingers clawing the sheet. “Hard,” he moaned. “Hard and fast. Before I die.”

“Fuck yes!” Fort released all control, his hips hammering into Griff’s ass, the tumbler writhing and crying out beneath him. He ran his hands over the other man’s flanks, reaching around to stroke his belly and grip his cock. Griff howled and Fort squeezed harder, rammed farther. And then the other man’s shaft was rippling in his palm, his rectal muscles clamping down brutally hard. A mind-searing jolt of pleasure ignited low and hard in Fort’s balls and the seed surged down his length in a long, flooding, ecstatic spasm that robbed him of breath, of sense.

Griff collapsed beneath him and he rode him down to the pillows in a boneless fog, his face buried in the other man’s hair. “Love you,” Fort whispered, still lost in that blissful floating sensation. “Gods, I—” He pressed his lips together.

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“I heard.” Griff turned his head and smiled brilliantly, revealing his crooked tooth.

“I’m the only one who will ever hear.” He reached back to touch his fingertips to Fort’s cheek. “Because you’re mine, the same way I’m yours.
Aren
’
t you
?” His eyes gleamed with a gut-wrenching, thrilling possessiveness.

Speechless, Fort nodded. Then he found his voice, because it needed to be said.

“Yes.” He brushed his lips over Griff’s hair, then shifted away, wiping his sticky shaft with a handful of sheet. He sat up, pulled off his boots and trews and threw them on the floor.

“Shirt.” Griff tugged at the hem, his gaze so frankly admiring, Fort could feel the heat burn in his cheeks.

He cleared his throat. “You too.”

Grinning, Griff kicked off his boots. Then he rose, making a production out of shimmying out of the trews, pulling the shirt off over his head.

“Slut,” said Fort to conceal his sigh of envy and longing. So smooth, so beautiful.

“For you, sweetie, only for you.” Griff punched him on the shoulder and turned to pour water from the kettle into a bowl.