Chapter 6

MAL WANTED Jory, but he was so torn about it he hesitated at the door to Jory’s apartment.

When he touched Jory, he’d expected to feel raw energy and power to match his own, or at least strong enough to explain the lingering traces of himself Jory had left in Minnesota. He’d never met a demon so powerful that they could leave a distinct imprint on an entire area. And Neal had talked about Jory like he was hiding the strength of a prince of Hel somewhere deep down. But Jory’s energy felt worn thin, his body and spirit close to breaking.

And the rattle he heard in Jory’s chest every time they walked too far was unnerving.

It was the wheezing that ultimately crushed Mal’s dwindling willpower.

Whatever Luhmann and the Barnetts had done, it had left Jory too weak to even fight off human diseases that his demon blood should have made him immune to. It had left him shattered, afraid of the one thing that could help him.

There was no chance he’d deliver Jory back into whatever shit he’d escaped from, even without the threats of an incubus lord hanging over him. He also wasn’t about to leave Jory struggling to breathe, unable to defend himself, when the Barnetts wouldn’t stop hunting him.

If Jory needed this, needed a chance to siphon power from someone he knew he could touch, Mal was more than willing to oblige. Jory could drain him completely, but the way Jory made Mal feel was worth the gamble.

“You okay?” Jory asked, leaving trails of intense energy behind as he traced his fingers over Mal’s neck.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” Mal gasped and pulled Jory against him, his mind reeling at the thought of what those fingers would feel like on his cock, or buried inside of him.

“Touching you,” Jory said, his expression filled with disbelief and awe. He slipped his fingers up Mal’s skin, then headed inside. “Come on in.”

“I can’t believe you actually live above the café,” Mal said, trying to sound surprised.

“A lot of people live above the café. My boss Selma owns the building,” Jory explained. “She let me stay in one of the studios when she hired me because she was tired of me sleeping in the alley and wanted me to have access to a shower. She hasn’t actually asked me to pay rent yet, so don’t jinx it.”

Mal stepped close, annoyed that there wasn’t anything but the wall to pin Jory against. Not a bit of furniture. Not anything, in fact.

Jory’s apartment was almost completely empty.

Mal had imagined Jory’s room at the church was a sign of abuse, evidence of Luhmann’s willful attempts at keeping Jory deprived. Now he was second-guessing that. This apartment was smaller than the average hotel room Mal stayed in, with a tiny bathroom and closet on either side of the door. Mauve carpet covered most of the room, cut at an awkward angle to allow a tiny section of linoleum in the corner that was probably meant to be a kitchen. It had a cabinet on the wall, and a tiny section of counter above a mini fridge. Dust covered everything, though. A cheap department store futon took up the opposite wall.

The mattress had a thin set of sheets and a threadbare blanket on it, but no pillows. A corner of the room had clearly been intended to be an eating area, but Jory hadn’t bothered with a table or chairs. Permanent indentations marked the carpet where furniture had once been. .

“Are you sure you live here?” Mal asked.

“It beats being on the streets.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Mal lied quickly. “It’s just empty.”

Jory walked toward the futon, eyed it for a moment, and headed back toward the bathroom. “It’s just habit. It’s hard to accumulate much when you’ve never had a place to keep it. I learned early on that if my shit didn’t fit in a backpack, I wouldn’t be able to take it with me.”

Mal felt a lump in his throat. He thought about the monastic cell back at New Life Ministries and all the furniture Jory’d left behind. Jory had slept in that bed, but nothing in the room except for the worn cookbooks had actually been his. Mal remembered the slacks and dress shirts that had filled the armoire, but he hadn’t thought about the lack of sweatpants, pajamas, or even jeans. The floor had been nothing but bare concrete, and Jory had owned nothing but dress shoes and matching black socks. There were no slippers or rug to dull the bite of the cold concrete.

Even the one thing he had claimed for himself—the collection of cookbooks that fueled his baking obsession—had been lost when Adam Luhmann had thrown him away.

For Jory, Mal realized, it had been normal. He’d been shuffled from house to house, but he’d never had a home. Foster-care stipends had apparently kept him fed, but no one had ever bothered to do more than that. This emptiness wasn’t a choice, it was a product of the world Jory had grown up in, and Mal was stunned by how badly he wished he could change that.

Jory kicked off his sneakers, leaning against the wall for support. “What?” he asked, staring at him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You asked if I really lived here, but then you got all….” Jory waggled his fingers. “Serious.”

“I’m a serious guy. But I was going to ask about lube.”

Jory chuckled, grabbed Mal’s shirt, and tugged him toward the futon, shoving him down with a soft, lingering kiss. “That, I’ve got. Uh… but not….”

“I’ve got a couple of condoms,” Mal assured him.

Jory cocked an eyebrow at him. “Even when you don’t get sick?”

He shrugged. “They make cleanup easier. Even I get tired eventually. I’m not crazy about passing out in a giant puddle.”

“Giant puddle?” Jory laughed.

“Well, a puddle,” he said sheepishly.

“Give me a second.”

Jory rushed to the bathroom and returned a moment later, tossing a small tube on the bed and then stretching out beside Mal, pulling him down on top of him.

Mal didn’t hesitate to kiss him, knowing there was no way he’d be able to keep things slow. Jory molded his long, slender body against Mal’s, Jory’s solid erection pressing into his stomach, rock-hard. Jory was eager, but he hadn’t done anything but tease Mal with his powers so far. It was enough to make Mal ache to get closer, to feel every inch of him. He’d never felt so utterly lost in another, so adrift. It had to be some weird incubus magic making the world outside of that one kiss fade until there was only him and Jory.

He grabbed Jory’s waist and held him tight, chasing his tongue when it retreated a little. Sliding his hands down over Jory’s hips and around to the front of his pants, he paused when he came to the bulge of his cock, then stroked him through the material while he fumbled with Jory’s zipper—trying to touch him, kiss him, and undress him all at once.

“Jesus,” Jory gasped, drawing away with a gasp.

Mal took in his sheepish expression and laughed. “Tell me what you want?”

“You. Now. Not to embarrass myself by finishing five seconds after you touch me would be cool, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“I’ve spent the entire week trying not to jump you, so I doubt I’ll last anyway.” Mal leaned down, letting his breath wash over the crook of his neck, hot and moist.

Jory almost squealed.

“Sensitive spot?” he asked, sucking gently on the same spot.

Instead of continuing his assault against Jory’s neck, he pulled away a little and tugged Jory’s pants open, slipping his cock out and working it slowly without anything in the way. His gaze stayed fixed on Jory’s face as he squeezed and stroked him. “Your eyes are so beautiful. More silver than blue. They get lighter when you’re turned-on.”

“Eyes can’t turn silver, you just—”

Cutting him off, Mal slid down off the futon and onto his knees, trailing his lips over the flared head of Jory’s cock. He sucked him in deep, his lips sinking all the way to the first curls of hair.

“Oh shit,” Jory gasped.

Mal bobbed up and down on him a few times, licking the entire length while he kept his right hand wrapped around the base and swirled his tongue around the tip. He worked Jory’s pants down past his knees, trying to focus on Jory’s cock the entire time, circling his tongue, making Jory gasp with each swipe.

Jory tried to shove him away, and Mal assumed he was close. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and sucked Jory in deeper, swallowing each small spurt as Jory came in his mouth. Jory was shaking, half sitting up with his hands caught in Mal’s hair, riding out the aftershocks, when Mal pulled away with one last slow lick. He kept stroking the head of Jory’s cock slowly, using his hand to mimic the same circular motion that Jory seemed to enjoy so much from his tongue. He drew out each tremor, his eyes fixed on Jory’s face.

“Damn,” Jory whispered.

He was so responsive that watching him come had been intoxicating all by itself, but despite being mesmerized by Jory’s eyes, Mal didn’t feel any different. If anything, he felt like he had more power to spare than he’d had before they got started.

Jory dragged him up for another kiss. Just like the first time, Mal’s world narrowed as the kiss consumed him, until Jory tugged him back, trying to drag Mal down on top of him.

Mal grabbed his hands, stopping him quickly.

“You don’t want to?” Jory asked, his expression dropping from elated to hurt in an instant.

He set his forehead on Jory’s chest, closing his eyes and pretending to catch his breath while he listened. If anything, the excitement had made the rattle in Jory’s chest louder.

It hadn’t worked.

“Mal?” Jory asked, chuckling.

“I want you from behind,” Mal admitted. “I want to watch you take every inch of me. Roll over onto your stomach?”

Jory didn’t hesitate, grinning as he moved.

Mal grabbed the lube Jory had tossed on the bed, then nudged Jory’s legs open and knelt between them. He ran his fingertips over Jory’s back from the nape of his neck to his hips, sweeping around his ass after.

Jory moaned and the sound made Mal shiver. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to fuck someone so badly, being so overwhelmed with the need to make someone his. All he wanted in the world was to bury himself inside of Jory and claim him completely.

He opened the lube and prepared him as quickly as he dared, studying Jory’s reactions to make sure he wasn’t moving too fast. When he found Jory’s prostate, Jory gasped, and Mal tried to draw his reaction out, rubbing the mound in gentle circles while Jory squirmed and tried to shove back against him.

Jory hissed, bucking against his fingers. “Mal….”

He growled deep at the sound of his name on Jory’s lips. He quickly rolled on a condom, then paused and took a deep breath, determined not to come before they’d even gotten started. He lined himself up and leaned forward, rocking into Jory’s body. After a few shallow thrusts, he sank in completely, caught by the sight of Jory’s ass surrounding him.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he said, holding himself still.

“I’m not fragile,” Jory groaned, rolling his pelvis.

“Yeah, well, my self-control is,” Mal said, chuckling as he rocked his hips forward, meeting Jory’s thrust halfway. They fell into a quick, delicious rhythm, moving fast enough to leave Jory gasping softly but slow enough to drag things out. He wanted to make Jory come once more, and even though he’d been close from the start, Jory moved with him so perfectly that every thrust hit just right, leaving Jory trembling beneath him.

He set his hands on Jory’s hips and lifted him a little higher, far enough to snake his hand beneath Jory’s stomach to stroke him in time with their movements. As soon as he felt a hitch in Jory’s rhythm, he gave up fighting his own orgasm, spilling into the condom with a shudder that rocked his entire body. He kept stroking and squeezing Jory, bringing him over the edge with a few quick pulls.

Mal slipped out and carefully lowered himself down beside Jory, kissing his back and shoulders before rolling them over so Jory could lie on his side, tight against him. Jory smiled at Mal, his eyes bright and happy.

“That was fun,” Jory chuckled. “But I suppose we should get cleaned up.”

“Rest with me,” he said, nuzzling Jory’s neck and trying to listen. “I’ve got to get back to Louise tonight, but stay with me for now. Please?” He’d have to leave, have to grab Louise and run before Asmodeus’s minion decided Mal was more trouble than he was worth, but he needed this.

He tugged Jory tight against him. The wheezing felt sickening against his chest, but Jory hadn’t taken a single drop of his power to fix it. That somehow made it worse.

“Why did you do this?” he asked, not able to raise his voice above a whisper.

Jory chuckled. “You’re totally my type. And after getting to know you tonight, you seem like a nice guy. And the whole physical contact not hurting thing means sex with you can just be fun. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Why didn’t you….” Mal struggled to keep his voice steady.

There was nothing in Jory’s expression but confusion and a soft smile. “Did you want to do something else? Because I’d love to suck you off, but if you’re offering to let me fuck you, I’m going to need a few minutes.”

Mal shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. Why didn’t you take my help?”

Jory grinned nervously, his scent taking on that horrible acidic stench again. “This isn’t about sex, is it?”

“You didn’t actually want my help. You just wanted….”

“You,” Jory said, nodding. “But there’s no obligation here. If you want to go, feel free.”

Mal had assumed that Jory would take his power simply because he needed it. Jory had held himself in check, not taking a single bit of Mal’s energy. Jory had just liked him, and Mal had assumed the worst.

“If we try again, would you at least take what you need? So I don’t feel like such a dick?”

Jory sighed and rolled off the futon, pulled on a pair of briefs, then headed to the door. His shoulders were slumped and the soft smile on his face was gone. “Okay, this was fun, in an insulting Wow, you thought I was a whore kind of way. You’ve got to get back to your pug and I have shit to do.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jory held the door open and met his gaze with a forced smile. “Get out.”

Mal’s chest felt tight at the calm dismissal in Jory’s tone. “Right.”