If that was him, though, then who was he?
He looked down at his hands. They looked the same, felt the same. They moved the same when he clenched them into fists, bony and knuckly. His hand wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the wound was still visible. Sort of. It looked more like a bruise or a birthmark, a smudge of color against pale skin.
“Yeah, count yourself lucky,” someone said, their words thick with a Texas drawl. “That hurts like fuck.”
Hill looked up and watched with disoriented horror as his body turned around to face him.
It didn’t look like him.
Or it did, but only if he squinted. The line of Hill’s jaw was there, Hill’s hairline, Hill’sears, but it was overlaid withhisface.
Davy Jones’s short, straight nose, sharp cheekbones, and the stern, thin mouth that Hill could still somehow taste. The smirk was nothing that Hill’s mouth had ever managed either, cocky and pleased with itself.
On impulse, Hill flung himself athisbody. He didn’t have any idea what he was going to do, but if he could be ousted, so could Davy. Before he could get close, one of the tentacles that squirmed around Davy snapped out. It grabbed Hill by the throat and hauled him up off the ground.
It squeezed until Hill’s eyes bulged, and he grabbed at it, fingers dug into the dense, heavy muscle that collared him.
“You knocked on my door, kid,” Davy said, his voice amused. He lifted his hand and licked blood from the open wound. “What did you think was going to happen? I’d go yell ‘boo’ at your enemies?”
Chapter Two
Dec 22, 12.20am
His new cock wasn’tcircumcised.
That was thesecondthing Davy noticed.
He finished his first piss in nearly thirty years, surprisingly fun, to be honest, and shook his borrowed cock off before he tucked it back into the jeans. Then he turned to wash his hands,the smart sting of pain as the water hit raw meat making his eye twitch, and studied “his” reflection in the mirror.
That had been the first thing he noticed, that he’d no fucking idea who this kid was.
Dark hair hung in unstyled curls over a narrow, expressive face. Pale green eyes stared warily at the world from behind thick lashes, and his mouth…
The memory of the kiss flickered quick and vivid through Davy’s brain. Warmth and softness, that moment when the kid had leaned into it. The taste of his breath—coffee and Skittles and life. An unfamiliar heat flushed through Davy, and he felt that uncircumcised cock twitch with quick, eager response.
His hands tightened unconsciously against each other, and he flinched at the sharp ache from his injured palm. He loosened his grip and flicked the tap off, giving a quick shake to shed the water.
He glanced at the mirror again, lean cheeks now flushed and eyes darker as his pupils expanded, and licked his lips.Hislips.
Let’s just say, it was a good mouth.
Just not one that he could place, or the face around it.
Although, to be fair, Davy couldn’t think of anyone hewouldrecognize that would want to bring him back from Beyond. Hell, he doubted anyone had even gone looking when he disappeared, just in case they found him. He’d not been a likable man, and his profession hadn’t encouraged him to try and hide that.
Still didn’t.
So? That begged the question: what did a pretty kid with green eyes want with him?
There was only one way to find out, he supposed.
Davy turned and reached for the door. His tentacle grappled with the handle, but the best he could do was rattle it before the jellyfish-translucent feeler slid through it. He stared at the door in bafflement for a beat and then remembered…
Hands.
He snapped the thin end of his tentacle to underline the realization, a pop of soft skin.
Of course. He’d forgotten how much he used to use them for… pretty much everything, really. He reached for the door. The metal was cold against his palm, almost painful, but he managed to fumble it open.
