Chapter Nine

Vargas lay back on the pillow and let out a guttural moan as wet, slippery heat swirled around the tip of his cock again and again. Then that remarkable tongue swiped across his slit, sending a shiver of pleasure throughout his body.

They should not be doing this.

He needed to get up and put a stop to it. He’d only come into Seth’s room to make sure he’d fallen asleep okay. Not for this.

But then a sleepy, cuddly, warm Seth had reached out for him.

And now… damn, Vargas didn’t want the delicious friction sliding over the crown of his dick to end. Nothing had felt this good in far too long.

Yet it was more than that. He wanted to make Seth feel good in return, to let him take control of the moment and find pleasure in touching, in being touched again. But only if that was what Seth truly wanted.

Vargas lifted his head to say something, to make certain Seth was okay with this, that it was his choice to keep it going. But words escaped him as he took in the sight before him: Seth kneeling over him, wearing only a pair of skin-tight briefs. His eyes were closed, his hair stuck up all over. His mouth was wrapped around Vargas’s shaft, creating that incredible suction. God, he looked amazing.

He did that swirl thing again. Vargas fisted the bedsheet in both hands. He threw his head back and groaned, a long gruff noise that didn’t sound like him. He was never that vocal during a blowjob. It was just all too much. The sensations, the knowledge that it was Seth touching him, Seth’s mouth on him.

He heard the familiar rapid sound of flesh beating flesh. He lifted his head again. Seth’s hand was flying over his own cock, the movement hidden underneath his underwear.

Then with sudden urgency, Seth sat up. He yanked his own underwear off, then straddled him, settling his bare ass on Vargas’s thighs. He reached beside them and retrieved a bottle of lube. After he squirted some in his hand, he tossed the bottle aside. Staring down at Vargas, he bit his bottom lip in that incredibly sexy way of his.

Vargas waited for him to take his shaft in hand and slather the lube on him, prepare them for the inevitable.

Instead Seth lifted up onto his knees and reached behind himself. His lips parted, and he sucked in a rush of air. Vargas couldn’t see him touching his own ass, but that look of utter pleasure on his face was intoxicating.

There was no denying it. Seth wanted this. He was ready for it.

Seth shifted farther up the bed. With an arm behind his back, he closed his fingers around Vargas’s cock and lowered himself down. As the tip breached the tight ring of muscle, Seth dropped forward onto his hands. “Vargas?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t hold back. Fuck me. Please.”

“Are you—” Vargas gulped air. “Goddamn, Seth, I want this, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I want to feel it, feel how much you’ve got to have me right now, that you can’t stop yourself from plowing into me and—”

Vargas thrust up off the bed and sank into Seth, bringing them together completely that time. Seth moaned in sheer pleasure.

When Vargas had his shaft buried fully inside him, Seth met his stare and said, “God, I love you.”

That did it. Vargas gripped Seth’s hips and rolled them over as one, never breaking that intimate contact between them. He drove forward, sliding deeper inside Seth, letting go, giving Seth everything he had to offer in that move, in the pure ecstasy of their bodies coming together.

Seth lifted his legs higher, opening up more, offering himself in such an erotic, exquisite move, it nearly did Vargas in. Then Seth grasped his own cock in one hand, and with the other, he reached out for Vargas. He held him by the back of the neck as he stroked himself. “Yes. God, yes!”

Vargas snapped his hips faster, thrusting into Seth over and over. He was close. Seth was too. So Vargas did what Seth had begged for. He fucked him with everything he had. Again. And again. And again.

He was almost there.

Something wet and cold poked him in the ear. Then came a sloppy lick up the side of his cheek.

What the—

He threw his eyes open. He lay alone on the couch in Seth’s living room, a raging hard-on pushing against the seam of his jeans.

A dream.

Another goddamn dream.

He turned his head and found Charlie’s snout three inches from his face. The dog whimpered, and then backpedaled two steps as he let out a high-pitched bark.

Vargas threw off the blanket and sat up, swinging his legs off the couch at the same time. Elbows propped on his knees, he held his head in his hands. His heart was racing, and he was hot as hell, sweat pouring off him, blinding desire still thundering through him. He wore only his jeans and a white T-shirt. His feet were bare. Breathing deep, he tried to shake off the erotic images: Seth moving above him, underneath him, his own cock encased by the heat of Seth’s ass.

Charlie nudged the back of his hand.

“What’s the matter, boy?”

As if the dog had been waiting for that question alone, he spun around and took off, running past the kitchen and down the hall. That’s when Vargas heard it. Low moans coming from Seth’s room. Then, “No. No. Stop. Please stop!”

Vargas shot to his feet and sprinted down the hall. Charlie stood waiting for him outside Seth’s room. The door was ajar, and as soon as the dog spotted Vargas coming toward him, he slipped inside. Vargas shoved open the door the rest of the way and followed Charlie in, crossing the room at a quick clip.

Seth was in the bed, curled up in a ball on his side.

Charlie rounded the bed and jumped onto the far side. He headbutted Seth in the upper back as if he was trying to wake him. Seth remained asleep, trapped in the nightmare. He was letting out little whimpers, his hands clutching the blankets before him in tight fists.

Vargas sat on the edge of the mattress and placed a hand on Seth’s forearm. “Seth, wake up.”

Seth moaned again. He started writhing back and forth, thrashing his head from side to side as if he was trying to get away from someone.

“Seth.”

His eyes shot open wide. “What?”

“You were dreaming.”

He scrambled to a sitting position, retreating from Vargas, his face contorted in pain, either from the dream or the physical agony of moving that quickly. Maybe both.

“Take it easy.” Vargas got up and held his hands up, palms out, signaling to Seth that he wasn’t a threat, that he wouldn’t hurt him or touch him.

Seth halted. Then, more carefully, he slid up the bed the rest of the way until he had his back against the headboard. “I’m okay.” After several beats, he nodded. “I’m okay.”

As Vargas had always done, he went with his instincts. He moved to sit beside him, lifting one knee onto the bed. “Just take a couple deep breaths.”

Seth complied, inhaling deeply several times before he spoke. “It wasn’t a memory. Just a nightmare.”

“Thought they were over.”

“They were.” He pulled the sheet up over his lower half. “I don’t know why…” He shrugged.

“The reporter. The appeal.” And Prescott being so goddamn close.

“I guess.”

“You want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.

“You need a pain pill?”

“No. It’s not too bad.”

“Okay.” They were quiet for a few breaths. “Think you can go back to sleep?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

“All right.” Another minute passed, Vargas waiting in case Seth changed his mind and began talking, but he offered nothing. “You want to watch another movie? I’ve got my iPad with me. We could sit right here and watch until you feel like nodding off again.”

“I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I’m not tired.”

Charlie, who’d been standing on the mattress watching them, circled twice, then lay down alongside Seth’s thigh on his other side. Seth laid a hand on the dog’s head. “I guess a movie sounds good.”

“Great. I’ll be right back.” Vargas stood and strode for the living room. When he returned with the iPad, he went to sit again but stopped short. He gestured to the empty spot beside Seth. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” Seth scooted sideways to give him extra room.

Vargas got settled on the bed and handed Seth the device. “I downloaded a couple of new movies yesterday. See if there’s anything that sounds good to you. If not, we’ll rent something else.”

Seth browsed the collection. But then his focus shifted to the forearms Vargas had crossed over his chest. His next words were whispered so low Vargas had to strain to hear him.

“Do you think the scars are gross?” Seth didn’t pause long enough for Vargas to answer. “They’re bad. Especially this one.” He set the device on his lap and laid a hand over his upper right arm. The long-sleeve T-shirt he’d worn to bed covered where he indicated. He held his hand there for a beat, then pushed his shirtsleeve up as far as he could.

There were minor scars along his forearm, but the one on his upper arm was the worst. The word MINE had been carved into his flesh. Vargas had seen that scar at the hospital, but maybe Seth needed to show it to him on his own terms. He’d never once mentioned any of the scars before.

Seth pulled down his shirtsleeve. “Every time he got me out of the cage, every time he did stuff to me, he’d cut me.”

Vargas forced down the blind rage coursing through him, the need to do something, anything to punish the man who’d hurt Seth. “I’m sorry you have to see them all the time. You shouldn’t have to relive it like that.”

Seth shrugged. “I would’ve anyway, at least in the beginning. I just hate the thought of people knowing about it, being able to see what he did to me. It’s like I can’t get away from it. Even after all this time.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. Nothing. You were the target of a horrible crime. People may feel sorry for you, Seth, but the ones who matter are never going to think badly about you because of it.”

“That’s just it. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me.” He tilted his head back to the headboard and stared at the ceiling. “I wish…” He squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t say anything further.

“You wish what?”

“I wish the scars weren’t so ugly.” He turned his head toward Vargas. “What do you think when you see them?”

“That—” Vargas cut off. He’d started talking without thinking. Seth didn’t need to hear all the excruciating ways in which he wanted to torture Prescott and make him suffer unspeakable pain.

“What? You think they’re ugly? You feel sorry for me too?”

“Seth, I look at you, and I think you’re amazing. You fought hard in the hospital and during all the rehab, and you’re pushing through everything—the pain, the powerlessness, the fear—to take back your life. I think you’re the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever known, and I admire the hell out of you.”

Seth sucked in an audible breath. “Some days I don’t think I’ll ever stop being afraid.”

“You will. It’s just gonna take time. Try not to be so hard on yourself.”

“It’s already been so long.”

“Not that long. Not for something like this.”

“I just keep…” He exhaled another ragged breath and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“What? Tell me.”

“Dr. Arteaga thinks I need to confront my fear.”

“That’s why she wants you to go to the Haven?”

“But I think it’s about more than the club.”

When he offered nothing else, Vargas took a chance and asked, “What are you afraid of?”

Seth shrugged. “Stupid stuff.”

“Nothing you think or feel is stupid.”

Seth watched as Charlie jumped from the bed and trotted into the hall. The faint sound of lapping water from the kitchen soon followed. Seth remained silent for another minute. Then he asked, “Why did he pick me?”

Vargas wasn’t certain if he meant Prescott, the one who’d kidnapped and tortured him, or Henderson, the cop who’d beaten him so severely. But he had a hunch it was still Prescott he was talking about.

“Was it because he didn’t think I’d fight back?”

“Seth…” Vargas turned so he was facing him. He hesitated, more afraid than anything he’d say something wrong. He opened his mouth to speak, but Seth beat him to it.

“I tried to get away from him in that room in the club. I really did.”

“Of course you did. Did you mention all this to Dr. Arteaga?” Not that Vargas didn’t want Seth to share. Quite the opposite. He just had no idea what to say, how to help him, and he didn’t want to fail him.

“Yeah. But it’s… it’s easier talking to you.” Seth ran his thumb over and around the main button on the iPad, but he didn’t turn the device on. “What made me different from the others?”

“How do you mean?”

“I was his favorite. He said he couldn’t resist me.”

Yet again Vargas swallowed down the fury. He kept quiet, kept still, holding back the urge to pummel the hell out of something, or to say shit Seth didn’t need to hear right then. He needed to feel safe, to express himself in his own words, in his own way.

Seth spoke again. “I keep trying to figure out why, but you know what? It’s not healthy for me to sit here and try to understand why he did anything. Because that’s impossible. He was a sick fuck. They both were. I will never be able to understand their motives.”

“You’re right. And none of it was your fault. It wasn’t what you wore or how you carried yourself or anything you did or didn’t do.”

Seth stared at the dark screen of the tablet sitting on his lap. “You saw the boxes of my old clothes in the closet?”

“I did.”

Seth scoffed. “Kinda stupid, huh? To think I could hide after the fact?”

“I understand the instinct.”

“But I can’t hide from him.”

“You don’t have to. He’s never getting near you again. That’s what ‘life in prison with no chance of parole’ means.”

No matter what Prescott had said in the courtroom, no matter how strong the case for the appeal, Vargas had to believe the original sentence meant something.

Seth nodded. It seemed like he was done talking and would, at any moment, turn on the iPad and select a movie. But then he said, “I saw him. Prescott.”

“What? When?”

“This morning. I tried to leave the apartment by myself, and I had another panic attack. I thought I saw him in the hallway, but it was just Ryder. It seemed so real. Like he was really coming for me. Just like he promised.”

Vargas closed his eyes. “I never should’ve told you he said something that day in the courtroom.”

Seth jerked his head in Vargas’s direction. “God, don’t say that. You’re the only one who’s never lied to me.” There was desperation in his eyes.

“The others meant well.”

“I know they did. I know they just didn’t want me to be worried and afraid, but I needed to know. Just like I need to know you’ll always be the one who’s truthful with me. You have no idea how much I count on that. How much I count on—” He broke off, but he didn’t need to say the rest. How much he counted on their friendship.

Vargas leaned forward until Seth looked his way again. “You got it. Always.”

“I just… What if he…” He shook his head, rubbing the back of one hand with the thumb of the other, like there was a dirty spot he had to scrub clean.

It was probably best for Seth to say it aloud, but Vargas couldn’t take the silence that lingered. “He’s never getting near you again.”

Tears welled in Seth’s eyes. He nodded.

“He’s in prison.”

Seth bit his bottom lip and nodded again, his stare now focused on the far wall of the bedroom. “I try to tell myself that all the time, but if he wins this appeal—” His voice caught. “What if he comes for me, takes me away again, and no one ever finds me?”

Again Vargas moved on instinct. He wrapped his arms around Seth and pulled him close. “He’s not going to win. He’s not going to get out. Ever.”

Seth slid an arm around Vargas’s middle and laid his head against his chest. “He’s never going to forget me. Never. If he has the chance, he’ll come for me. Just like he said.”

Prescott’s words from the courtroom filled Vargas’s head. The same way they had every day since then.

“Tell Seth not to worry. This is only temporary. I’ll come for him soon, and then we’ll be together again. Forever this time. I promise.”

Vargas rested his chin on the top of Seth’s head and rubbed his back in comforting circles. “I won’t let him near you. No matter what.”

Seth’s breath hitched once more. He held on to Vargas tighter.

“I won’t let him anywhere near you.”