"Mmm."
"Can youstand?"
Tristan reluctantly blinked open his eyes, balking at the harsh lights. "I think so," he answered, his voice gruff.
"Be careful."
Standing and carefully stepping onto the rug, Tristan dried himself with a fluffy white towel while his gaze raked over Cade's toned body, strong and sleek and dripping with water.
A vague desire to lick off those drops bloomed, but quickly fizzled, because exhaustion was dragging him under.
As if the admission caused a physical reaction, he swayed on his feet, and Cade quickly wrapped a towel around his own waist — sadly obscuring Tristan's view — and steered him toward the toilet.
"Sit. You're about to fall over."
"I'm tired," he complained without his typical sass.
"I know. Let me get you some painkillers, then you can sleep."
The attentiveness led to another surge of affection, but Tristan clapped down the train of thought, telling himself that Cade was only acting nice because it was expected when you just marked and choked and fucked someone.
Not that he knew for sure, but he guessed.
After pulling ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet and handing him two pills and a glass of tap water, Cade walked behind Tristan as he shuffled to the bed, dropped his towel and climbed under the sheets. When a blanket settled over him, he reached out a hand. "Will you lay down with me? Please?"
Tristan realized he sounded needy and perhaps unreasonably clingy, but his body still craved Cade's touch. While he was definitely more coherent, his emotions still rattled, and he wanted Cade next to him to help him settle and sleep.
Emotion flickered across the other man's face, but it vanished too quickly for him to process in his weary state. When Cade climbed into the bed, Tristan scooted closer, hesitated, but then asked, "Will you hold me?"
After the briefest of pauses, Cade lifted his arm, and Tristan snuggled in, cheek to shoulder, leg hitched over a thigh, fingers weaving through dark chest hair. A soft sigh of contentment escaped, and his weary eyelids drifted shut. He felt a soft kiss on his forehead and then the bridge of his nose, which made his heart stammer again.
He felt safe, protected.
And he slept.
Tristan inched toward wakefulness after a long nap, and as he teetered on the edge of sleep, memories from earlier in the day wafted into his consciousness, so fantastic they seemed more like impressions from a dream.
A fabulous, first-rate, A-plus dream. Ten out of ten stars, highly recommend.
However, the soreness prickling throughout his body proved very real, as he clocked pain in multiple places. His ass stung, his puffy nipples throbbed, several spots on his neck and the insides of his thighs smarted, and his shoulders ached like he'd been carrying a backpack full of bowling balls. Not the greatest feeling, Tristan conceded, but given what caused it, he had no regrets.
He remembered how the strong hand around his neck had aroused rather than frightened him, recalled the moment his lungsbegan to burn, when he couldn't stand it anymore, and Cade released his throat. White spots had blotted his vision, and the tremors of his orgasm had tumbled over him like tidal waves, crashing again and again.
Cade had said Tristan would never think of anyone else after he fucked him.
He was right.
Stretching out an arm to reach for his bedmate, Tristan felt his hand slide over cold sheets. Disappointed, he rolled onto his back and peeled his eyes open to see Cade sitting in a kitchen chair, scrolling through his phone with his feet propped up on the bed, exuding, as always, confidence and a dangerous, edgy quality that Tristan found deeply attractive.
The man was a puzzle he couldn't quite decipher, full of contradictions, hiding pieces of himself, and he suspected, masking vulnerability behind that tough-guy exterior. Even though Cade killed and tortured bad guys, he treated Tristan with respect, concern, even tenderness, so Tristan knew in his heart that Cade wasn't an evil person and that he'd never hurt someone who didn't deserve it …or agree to it, he thought dryly.
Remembering how he allowed, or maybe begged, Cade to choke and mark him circled his mind right back to the mind-blowing sex.
Except … did Cade think it had been that good?
Doubt clawed at him as he wondered if his impression of the scene was one-sided. What if he wasn't exciting or experienced enough for someone like Cade, who had an apparently exhilarating sex life and a job where he routinely faced life-and-death situations?
A soft "Hey" from the other man interrupted Tristan's pondering.
