Under the Skin (12 page)

“It doesn’t matter,” Patrick insisted, his hands settling on Alexei’s hips to keep him close. “None of it matters. Not the past, not the tattoos, not any of it. I’ve lived in hell this past week when I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. I don’t want to lose any more time with you. I don’t care what you have to do to stay alive. Just don’t let them hurt you again.”

His lover’s unconditional acceptance tore the last shreds of Alexei’s resistance. “Patya,” he groaned, leaning into the eager embrace, his lips meeting his lover’s with a month’s worth, a lifetime’s worth, of hunger and need. Cursing his suggestion that Patrick wear a suit, he fumbled with the layers of clothing, seeking the warm flesh underneath.

Patrick parted his lips, welcoming Alexei inside even as he divested his lover of his pants and then wrestled with his own clothes as well. They could not come together quickly enough for him, although he hoped there would be time for more leisurely lovemaking too. For now, though, he needed Alexei, needed to prove they were together, that Alexei was safe in his arms. He didn’t even try to stop the satisfied sigh that left him when skin met skin.

The memory of their last encounter still weighing on his conscience, Alexei tried to gentle the urgent kiss, his hands caressing the body he hadn’t dared to hope he would ever again hold against his. It was a wonder to him that Patrick had returned at all—he would do nothing to recall that moment when he had let his anger overwhelm him. But it was obvious his lover didn’t feel the same constraint.

Frustrated with yet another delay, Patrick pushed Alexei backward toward the bedroom, stopping only long enough to retrieve the condom and lube he had stuffed in his pocket before he left the house, tribute to the hope he’d nursed despite the circumstances. Tearing the packets open, he stroked Alexei’s cock to full hardness, rolling the condom down its length and smearing it with the slippery fluid.

Suspecting that this assertive lover was much more Patrick’s usual manner than the submission of their previous encounters, Alexei let himself be maneuvered until the younger man knelt over him and reached for his cock. “Not yet,” he ground out, stilling Patrick’s hand. “Not without preparation. Never again.”

Patrick’s grin turned seductive as he slid up Alexei’s chest, being careful not to apply pressure to the wound or any of the bruises he could see. “Be my guest,” he offered huskily, turning quickly to face his lover’s feet. He looked back over his shoulder as he braced his hands on Alexei’s muscular thighs, cocking an eyebrow as if to ask what the other man was waiting for.

Raising himself on his elbows, Alexei wrapped his palms around his lover’s slender hips and drew him closer, placing a kiss on each perfect globe before sliding his tongue between them. His fingers tightened as Patrick bucked in surprise, holding him steady as he traced the crease, teasing at the wrinkled rosette until breathy moans assured him his lover welcomed his attentions. With a groan of his own, he delved inside, the musky taste whetting his hunger to sink deeper into the silky passage. Groping for one of the packets Patrick had dropped on the bed, he slicked his fingers, his lips moving up the line of Patrick’s spine as he stretched him further, until neither of them could deny their need any longer.

Patrick’s fingers clenched and unclenched in time with Alexei’s probing tongue as he sought to hold back the shout of surprise and pleasure at the unexpected feeling of his lover’s mouth on him. He regretted having already put a condom on the other man’s cock, wishing he could lower his head and suck the smooth head. Instead, he contented himself with sliding one hand between the strong thighs and rolling the heavy sac in his palm. When Alexei finally released him, he spun around, positioning the tip of the hard shaft at his entrance and sliding down in one long glide. “Ah, shit… Lyosha,” he groaned as he felt himself filled again.

“Patya,” Alexei rasped, fighting for control as Patrick’s body clenched around him. His fists closed around the bed sheets as he resisted the urge to thrust upward, ceding control to his lover. His head thrown back against the pillow, he watched as the perfect, flawless body undulated above him, the slender cock bobbing gracefully, a silvery strand of fluid welling down to drip onto his belly. “
Da
, Patya….”

Patrick closed his hands over Alexei’s fists, lifting them to his hips, fingers caressing the bruised and scraped knuckles tenderly. “What do you want?” he asked breathlessly. “Hard and fast or slow and gentle?”

“You are driving this time,” Alexei answered with a touch of humor that belied the emotions threatening to swamp him. He brushed the back of his hand over the light stubble of Patrick’s cheek. “Take what you desire.”

Patrick turned his head to kiss the battered hand. “What we desire.”

His hips began to move faster now, the urgency he had felt since hearing Alexei had been hurt demanding to be appeased. Bracing his hands above his lover’s battered shoulders, he lowered his head and mated their lips as he mated their bodies, sucking on Alexei’s tongue in rhythm with the movement of their hips. The fluid leaking steadily from his cock lubricated its slide over the taut abdomen beneath him, adding another layer of pleasure to the feelings already pulsing through him. His senses spun from lack of air, but he didn’t want to lift his head even long enough to draw breath, not wanting to lose any connection between them after having feared every connection lost. He increased the pace, riding Alexei hard, pushing them both inexorably toward their climax.

Allowing his lover to control the pace, letting the sensations wash over him rather than driving them, brought Alexei a degree of pleasure he had never experienced before. Patrick’s mouth melded to his, sharing breath as their bodies pounded together until it seemed they shared a single heartbeat. His palms slid down the arc of Patrick’s back, sweat glistening between them despite the cool air of the room. The friction and the saltiness burned his wounds, but it was nothing to the fire that burned in his gut, the fire only the man astride him could assuage. When he felt his balls tightening with the immediacy of his climax, he worked a hand between their bodies, encircling his lover’s cock until they both convulsed together, swallowing each other’s cries as they rode out the shuddering ecstasy.

Retaining only enough presence of mind to collapse beside Alexei rather than on top of him, Patrick gave in to the other desire that he hadn’t been able to shake, curling against his lover’s side as if he truly had the right to be there, arms positioned carefully to avoid the obvious injuries. He pushed aside the doubts, the problems, and simply basked in the warmth of explosive passion and its quiet, tender aftermath. Maybe it wouldn’t last. Maybe it couldn’t last, but he would treasure every moment he had with his lover instead of always counting the cost.

Alexei’s body ached, but the warmth that suffused him at the press of Patrick’s body to his was worth any amount of pain. He was reluctant to shatter the fragile peace they had forged between them, but he could not expect Patrick to remain much longer, and there were matters he needed to discuss before they parted again, perhaps for the last time.

“Patya,” he began, threading a hand into the tumbled curls that framed his lover’s face and turning it until their eyes met, “the last time, on the boat—there is no danger.” He paused, his eyes dark with regret. “I know you have no cause to trust me, but I am clean. There is no risk you need fear.”

Patrick’s arms tightened their embrace; he hoped he was not aggravating any internal injuries but was helpless to stop the gesture at the thought of illness ravaging the strong body he held. It had been a concern, knowing what kind of life Alexei led, but neither of them lived a life free of dangers, most of which were far more immediate than illness. “I’m glad to hear that. I got tested too, and I’m clean, so you’re safe as well,” he replied softly, holding Alexei’s gaze as he tried to convey the words he could not say. “There are enough other things trying to take you away from me without worrying about getting sick too.”

“I am keeping low profile until I am healed enough to defend myself again,” Alexei admitted. There had been times in his life he had not been concerned about his safety, but he had more than one reason now to care about his own survival. He smiled crookedly as he continued, “You do not need to look for more bodies. This time I let others deal with the situation.”

Patrick didn’t ask who the others were or how they would deal with the situation. He’d made enough of a mess by asking for answers the last time they met. “As long as you stay safe,” he said bluntly. “I don’t care about the rest.”

He had more to say, a confession of his own to make, but he hesitated to spoil the quiet mood between them. He would have to tell Alexei before he left, but for the moment, he took the coward’s way out and simply rested against his lover’s side. Last time, it had been Alexei’s revelation that endangered them. This time, it would be his. He accepted that, but he wanted to put it off as long as he could. In case
this
was the last time.

The silence settled between them, unbroken save for their quiet breathing. Alexei wondered that Patrick remained nestled against him, rather than rising to dress and leave as they usually parted after sex. Satiation and pain left him weary, and he considered simply closing his eyes to rest for a time, but he did not want to wake to find Patrick gone. Wishing for words he did not have the right to speak, he settled for resting a palm on the curve of his lover’s back, the touch itself more of a connection than he had allowed before.

The caress, somehow more intimate than any sex they’d ever had, broke Patrick’s heart. Believing Alexei lost to him, he’d accepted a promotion that now put him directly at odds with his lover. “I… I have to tell you something,” he said slowly. “I don’t want to, but you were honest with me when I asked about your tattoos. I owe you the same honesty.”

Alexei stiffened, certain Patrick was about to confirm they were ended, that this was the last time they would meet. That he had expected it, urged it, made it no easier to bear. Hoping his expression hid the tension coiling inside him, he nodded for the other man to continue.

Patrick’s eyes closed as he felt Alexei’s silent withdrawal. How little they had learned to trust each other, he mused sadly, that even the mention of talking, of honesty, created this tension between them. Maybe they really were better off apart. “My supervisor has been trying to promote me to Organized Crime for six months. I’d been refusing. Last month, I thought the reasons for saying no were gone, so I accepted. I’m sorry.”

The irony of Patrick’s confession was not lost on Alexei, but there was nothing humorous about the implications to them both. “You can no longer turn a blind eye to what you see,” he acknowledged softly. “I will be careful not to draw your attention once you leave.”

“But that’s just it,” Patrick explained quickly. “I don’t want to leave. I lost you once, almost permanently. I just don’t know how to stay.”

Perhaps there was no way, but having come close to losing everything himself, Alexei had learned to take what he could. “Then stay,” he murmured, pulling Patrick closer and settling him against his chest, ignoring all pain and doubts. “Forget tomorrow. Just stay tonight.”

Patrick nodded, relaxing against the warm body of the man who meant too much to him. “Lyosha, I….” He didn’t finish the sentence, the words he shouldn’t speak silenced by Alexei’s lips. It didn’t matter. Either Alexei knew or he didn’t, but Patrick was done denying to himself how he felt. He had no idea how this would work—probably no better, no differently than it had before—but he was done with pretense. His eyes lit on the icon of St. Michael in a shrine on the dresser, giving him an unexpected sense of peace.

Alexei had promised never to let himself hope for the impossible, but for once he was breaking his own rules. Tomorrow he would face reality again, a reality that forced them apart, but he would not think of it tonight. Closing his eyes, he matched his breathing to that of the man in his arms and let himself dream.

Chapter 8

W
ATCHING
the door close behind Patrick the next morning had been no easier than Alexei had expected it to be.

From years of habit he woke before the sun, Patrick curled warm against his side. He indulged himself for a few minutes just watching the younger man sleep before Patrick snuffled and blinked and woke with a start, the elbow he flung out catching Alexei in the ribs before he pushed himself up from the mattress.

“
Spokojno
,” Alexei murmured, tucking a hand behind his head to keep from reaching out to pull Patrick back into his arms. He liked the thought that the detective wasn’t used to waking up in a strange bed more than he should. “I am not resisting arrest.”

“Sorry,” Patrick replied, rubbing his elbow and then rubbing Alexei’s ribs. “I’m not used to sleeping next to anyone. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Alexei shook his head, his cock stirring to life at the touch.

Even now the memory alone was enough to make him harden.