Nathan
“Hey, holy man.”The low rumble of Storm’s voice sent a shiver rolling down Nathan’s spine.
Hands slid up the back of his shirt, and weight rocked firmly against his front. Nathan moaned, tipping his head back and inviting Storm’s sinful mouth to latch onto his throat. Those big hands slipped down, guiding his legs up and apart to make room.
Their clothes were gone now, everything slick and hot between them. Nathan rutted up against Storm’s rock-solid body, their hard cocks pressed together and sending sparks of pleasure fizzing down his spine. Nathan moaned, helpless and wanton.
He didn’t have to do anything. Pleasure coursed through him, an ember coaxed into an inferno by the demon pinning him to the bed. Lips found his, and a slick tongue invaded his mouth. Storm would make him feel good. All he had to do was let go and trust.
Trust the demon. Give himself over. It seemed wrong, but nothing this good could be wrong.
“Let me take care of you, holy man,” Storm said. “I’ll take such good care of you.”
He threw his head back as the pleasure reached its crest, exploding out of him with a shout.
* * *
Nathan wokewith sticky boxers and groaned up at the ceiling. He was far too old for this kind of behavior. He could admit, at least to himself, that maybe Storm had awakened something in him he hadn’t known was there. Bisexuality was a thing, and just because he’d never considered itbeforedidn’t mean he couldn’t benow. Certainly, he’d admired some of his fellow paladins out in the training yard and the weight room, but he’d thought everybody did that. He was reevaluating that now. He was reevaluating lots of things.
That it was ademonwho awakened something like this in him was… unfortunate. But as long as it remained a naughty fantasy, everything would be okay. The best thing he could do was to put the dream from his mind and focus on more important things.
Throwing himself into the shower, he erased all the embarrassing evidence of his unfortunate night and stuffed the soiled boxers into the washing machine in the hall closet.
He checked his phone as he wandered to the kitchen, and his stomach flipped when he saw a text from Storm. Pale sunlight streamed through the small window over the sink. It seemed the rainstorm had passed. Maybe he could get some training in today. That should help take his mind off last night’s dream.
It was good meeting you yesterday.
Awareness prickled down Nathan’s spine. A simple text from a halfling shouldn’t make him feel this way.
You too.
He busied himself with making some coffee and pouring it into a travel mug, determined to ignore his phone—until it chimed again. Against his will, his eyes slid to the screen.
Spoke to the others. You can come by the Rink tonight if you’d like.
Oh. That was quick. Nathan pondered how to answer as he went out to his car and started the engine.
Great, thanks. I’ll let you know later today, if that’s ok. Got to update Sloan, and I’ll try to get a copy of that footage.
The dots bounced… and bounced… and bounced. What was hetyping?
Be careful.
That was it. Warmth bloomed in Nathan’s chest, and he tucked his phone into the space below the dash. He didn’t even realize he was smiling, small and lopsided, until he saw himself in the rearview mirror.
Storm was worried about him. That was… nice.
* * *
Nathan didn’t relishthe administrative side of hunting demons, and giving this particular report was going to be even less fun than the ones for routine patrols. Sloan had given ratherdubiouspermission for him to approach the defectors, and he feared that being too honest about how hopeful his meeting with Storm made him would drive Sloan in the opposite direction. He would have to maintain a delicate balance during this conversation in order to keep Sloan’s favor.
He knocked on the office door, which stood ajar, and Sloan looked up from his computer. Indirect sunlight filtered in through the pair of windows behind him, highlighting the scattered gray strands in his dark hair.
“Captain Accardi, please come in. Have a seat.” He gestured to the chairs across the desk from him.
At one time, Nathan was quite comfortable in this office. For years, he’d never doubted that Sloan would have his back no matter what. Now, he sat stiffly and waited for instruction.
Sloan pushed his keyboard away and threaded his fingers together on his desk. “All right, tell me how the first contact with the traitors went.”
