Sly Spectral Trick Read online

“It’s cold, you fucker,” he grumbled.

  “Awww.” Chris used Darien as leverage to sit up, sliding so that Darien ended up straddling his lap. He leaned in to rub his nose with Darien’s. “I’ll warm you up.”

  Normally the position and the offer had potential. Well, they still had potential. But… “After that you think I’m going to let you touch me?” He yanked away, getting to his feet. “No way.”

  He heard Chris chuckling behind him. “You should have seen your face.”

  “I was scared to death.”

  “Oh come now, magpie. I wouldn’t have let it go on much longer.”

  Darien reached one window and shoved it closed. “Ghosts,” he muttered, feeling the fool. “I can’t believe I fell for that.” He headed for the other window. “How’d you do the mirror?”

  Comforting light filled the room when Chris hit the switch on the wall. “I wrote it hours ago.” He crossed to the closet. “I knew the shower would fog up the mirror.”

  Darien nodded. “That’s why you closed the door.”

  “Yes.”

  Damn it, Darien was impressed. That was a pretty good trick. Well thought out. He could appreciate that, even if he was still pissed. He went to shut the other window. “There aren’t druids in your family, are there?”

  Chuckle. At the closet now, Chris stepped on something that turned off the fog machine. “To be honest, I haven’t a clue. That was to add a touch of realism.”

  “Tricky fucking actor. Was that even Sadie on the phone?”

  He bent to pick up his glasses. “Actually, yes.”

  “Oh man, you got an old lady to help you?”

  “Wait until you meet Sadie. She’s an evil old witch.”

  Darien crossed his arms, feeling the pout on his lips but unwilling to wipe it away. “You bastard.”

  Chris chuckled. “Oh, magpie. Can’t take a joke?” He switched off the little projector and left his glasses on the dresser.

  Glasses on the dresser. Not on his nose. That usually meant something physical was about to happen. Damn, when had his cock started reacting to fucking glasses?

  He scowled, standing at the side of the bed, not quite ready to give in. “That was cruel.”

  Chris arched an eyebrow. “As they say, payback is a bitch.”

  Darien rubbed his hands up and down his arms to ward off the chill. His skin was still damp from the shower and the October air was damn chilly. “I never got you that bad.” He wished he had.

  Beautiful lips drawn up into a mock sympathetic moue, Chris started toward him. “Are you cold, magpie?” His calm voice was at odds with the predatory gleam in his eyes.

  Darien stepped back, keeping the bed between them. “Stay away! I’m mad at you.”

  “Were you scared, magpie?”

  Darien clambered onto the mattress to keep out of reach. “No.”

  Chris reached the side of the bed, a grin to match the glint in his eyes curving that luscious mouth. “Why are you running?”

  Darien landed on his feet, watching Chris over the rumpled sheets. “You don’t get to scare me then fuck me.”

  Chris paused to pull his shirt up and over his head, revealing those cut muscles that a lawyer just shouldn’t have. “No?”

  Darien didn’t catch himself until after he’d licked his bottom lip. “No.”

  Chris’s gaze dropped down to Darien’s crotch. Darien felt the blood filling his cock. “You sure about that?”

  Darien edged back. “Yeah, well…” He swallowed. “You put a spell on me, didn’t you, druid?”

  Chris laughed low, kneeling on the bed, leaning forward on one hand. He looked like a flipping mountain cat stalking its prey. How sexy was that! “Perhaps I did. Come here.”

  Heart racing, Darien balanced on the balls of his feet. “No.”

  In a sudden, burst of speed, Chris launched from the middle of the bed at Darien. His long, lean body stretched just like that mountain cat, so achingly beautiful that Darien lost a precious second making a break for it. He felt the wind of Chris’s snatch for him, but managed to twist aside, pelting for the bedroom door.

  By the time he reached the stairs, he was laughing. He knew from experience not to look back. Chris may be a stodgy lawyer-type, but he was damned fast! Darien made it to the bottom of the stairs and broke for the living room, barely hearing Chris behind him but knowing he was here. Through the living room and back to the dining room, where he could finally turn, the big, solid oak table between them.

  “Stop running, magpie,” Chris warned with a dark grin, arms braced on the backs of two chairs, watching for which way Darien would break. “The spell intensifies if you run.”

  Darien couldn’t suppress his own grin as he edged toward the kitchen. “Oh, yeah?”

  Chris mirrored his steps. “Indeed. There is only one cure.”

  Darien lapped at his bottom lip. “What’s that?”

  “My cock up your ass.”

  The shiver caught Darien off guard.

  Chris broke for him but Darien recovered just in time, whirling to head back into the living room. He almost made it back to the entrance hall but Chris caught him around the waist. Throwing his weight against Darien’s back, he forced him to the thick Persian rug that covered the hardwood floor.

  Darien caught himself on his hands, grunting under Chris’s weight. The bare chest was velvet heat against his back and the press of Chris’s cock, even through his jeans, was painfully exciting.

  He struggled, but Chris caught his hands, trapped beneath them. It wasn’t that Chris was stronger. He wasn’t, really. But Darien was well aware that there were some contests of strength where he won by losing.

  They were close to Chris’s wide, stuffed reading chair in the corner of the room. Keeping a firm hold of Darien’s wrists, Chris hauled him up and plopped his hands on the padded arms. “Spell’s still in effect,” he murmured into Darien’s ear. “Your hands are stuck there and can’t move.”

  A groan tore from Darien’s throat, his eyes locked on the thick buttons sewn into the back of the chair. His fingers gripped the arms of the chair, glued there as Chris bit the back of his shoulder.

  “Lovely spell, isn’t it?” Chris murmured, hot breath ghosting over Darien’s skin, raising goose bumps. His hands trailed down Darien’s sides, over his hips, to splay on the front of his thighs.

  “Yeah,” Darien groaned, letting Chris sway him back so that the fly of his jeans ground into the crack of Darien’s ass. “Where’d you learn it? Sadie?”

  One of Chris’s hands closed firmly around Darien’s full shaft. “No.” He squeezed. “This one is all my own making.”

  Darien shuddered, pushing forward into that hand. “Damn. It’s a good one.”

  Chris’s hips pushed at Darien, encouraging him into a slow, rolling rhythm. His lips pressed the meat at the back of Darien’s shoulder. “I thought so.”

  They rocked together. Darien’s fingers bit into the arms of the chair and his head fell forward, hair curtaining either side of his face. A familiar burning ache spread up from his groin through his belly to his heart, filling his chest with heat that burbled down his arms and up his neck. Needy groans pushed from his throat, bursting in little gasps from his lips. He could almost believe that Chris had, indeed, put a spell on him.

  “Chris.”

  Teeth bit into his shoulder. “Yes?”

  “God, Chris, I need…”

  “Need what, magpie?”

  “My ass, Chris,” he moaned, pushing back hard into his lover. “Please, God, do something.”

  Chris’s hand squeezed Darien’s cock one last time, then both palms spread on Darien’s thighs again. “You want me to lick your ass?” Chris asked, knowing Darien hadn’t quite gotten the hang of asking for that. Long fingers bit into the sensitive skin just outside his groin. “That’s what you want. The spell makes you want my tongue to get you wet and ready for my cock.”

  “Yes!”

  Chris murmured
approval, his lips following Darien’s spine down his back. Hands gripped his hips, urging them up, angling Darien’s ass just right for when his mouth reached the top of the crack. Teeth nipped one cheek, then the other, as palms planted and thumbs spread Darien open. “You’re winking at me, magpie,” he murmured just before taking that first, teasing swipe over Darien’s hole.

  Whining softly, Darien collapsed onto the seat of the chair. His face mashed into the thick throw pillow that lived there, his hands still affixed to the padded arms.

  Chris teased first, quick little touches with the tip of his tongue. Then he actually started to probe, wiggling as much of that thick, wet muscle as possible in the tight space. Darien wondered distantly just how tight he could be anymore since Chris had been fucking him regularly, but the thought was fleeting. He was far more interested in the tingling sensation of the tongue, a precursor to the cock that would soon follow.

  He was squirming, mewling a little, when a hand closed around his dick. His head flew up, his back arching on a gulping cry as he instinctively pushed into the hand. Yeah, dual assault. Strong, no-nonsense fingers stroking his cock as a tongue probed his anus as far as physically possible.

  “Chris, fuck me now,” he growled.

  Damn man didn’t listen. His hand picked up speed on Darien’s shaft, though, thumb tormenting the sensitive spot just under the head.

  “Chris, damn it.”

  Tongue pulled out. Breath cooled the copious wet left behind. Chris spat, then his tongue pushed in again.

  Darien arched, keening. “Chris!” Chris had misjudged. Darien shot into his hand, onto the floor before the chair, keening as his body shook.

  He sank forward, pressing his face harder into the cushions, gulping in air.

  “Spell still working?” asked that decadent voice, just a little gruff now

  He twisted his neck to free his mouth from the chair’s pillows.. “Yeah.” His fingers ached from where they held the arms of the chair for dear life.

  He thought he heard the sound of Chris’s zipper. “Good. It’s time to fill your ass with my cock.”

  Darien moaned, rocking back into Chris when he felt that blunt pressure at his entrance. “Is that…?” He gasped at that sharp bite of pain up his spine as the head popped inside his hole, shuddering when it dissolved as Chris pushed in. “Is that going to break the spell?”

  “Only one of them.” Hands slid up his back, over his shoulders and down his arms. Fingers laced with his, pressing his palms to the padded arms of the chair.

  “One?” Darien asked, easing forward to pull himself partially off Chris’s cock before pushing back to impale himself.

  Chris squeezed Darien’s fingers. “The one keeping your hands here goes away.” Chris grunted, thrusting sharply to make Darien gasp. His breath caressed Darien’s ear. “But the one that keeps you in love with me stays forever.”

  Before Darien could react to that, he thrust again, perfectly nailing Darien’s gland so that sparks exploded in his head. He groaned, leaning into the chair for support as Chris laid into him, sparing him nothing, not that he would have asked to be spared. Darien felt sweat drops spatter on his back. He rocked into Chris’s rhythm, forcing his lover to take him faster. The hitched breathing of the man behind him told him it was close.

  Something like an orgasm spilled in Darien’s groin, a heat like an extended spasm. It held and gripped his muscles as Chris’s rhythm went ragged and, with a muffled curse, spent into Darien’s body.

  Happily sated, Darien let himself be gathered back as Chris sank back onto his heels. Chris wound his arms around Darien, keeping their fingers interlocked so that as Darien effectively sat in Chris’s lap, his own hands were pressed to his sides. For a few moments, they just breathed, Chris’s lips brushing the bend between Darien’s neck and shoulder and Darien’s head resting on Chris’s shoulder.

  Thinking back on what just happened made him smile. He opened his eyes to see the inky shadows on the ceiling above him and laughed. “That’s a pretty good spell there.”

  “Thank you.”

  He frowned. “Chris?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “There is no such thing as ghosts, right?”

  Jet Mykles

  An ardent fan of fantasy and science fiction sagas, Jet prefers to live in a world of imagination where dragons are real, elves are commonplace, vampires are just people with special diets and lycanthropes live next door. In her own mind, she’s the spunky heroine who gets the best of everyone and always attracts the lean, muscular lads.

  In real life, Jet lives in southern California with her boyfriend of nine years, his daughter and father and nine cats. She has a bachelor’s degree in acting, but her loathing of auditions has kept her out of the limelight.

  Visit Jet on the Web at www.computerotika.com or feel free to email her at [email protected].

  To read more about the characters and their world, check out Heaven Sent: Faith by Jet Mykles:

  Darien's best friends are the other guys in the rock band Heaven Sent. The three -- now four -- of them are closer than brothers to him and he's happy that they've all found their life mates. He is. He doesn't at all mind that each of those life mates are men. He doesn't.

  In fact, that's just it. Maybe there's something to this gay stuff. He's never been particularly interested before, but after a short, failed marriage, he's willing to open himself up to new possibilities. Especially if one of those possibilities is the gorgeous lawyer who handled his divorce, Christopher Faith.

  Trouble is, Chris doesn't seem to want to believe that Darien's serious. Well, sure, Darien's never slept with a guy before, but he's allowed to change his mind. Isn't he?

  Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: male/male sexual practices.

  Heaven Sent: Faith is now available at Loose Id ®.

  http://www.loose-id.com/detail.aspx?ID=497