Sam stood up, and Alistair helped him strip off his clothes, now stained with soot and blood. The knees of his trousers were ripped too badly to be good as anything but rags, but the rest of the clothes might be saved. “I guess I lost my hat.”
“Blown off your head,” Alistair said grimly. “Shit, you’re bruised to hell and back. Do you need anything?”
Now that he was safely at home with his lover, the last of the energy that had carried him through the night was fading fast. “No. I think I’m going to lie down.”
“Okay.” Alistair brushed a kiss across his forehead. “I’ll get your clothes soaking in some borax.”
“I can help?—”
“Sam.” Alistair cupped his face with one hand. “Let me take care of you.”
Sam’s heart swelled, and tears foolishly pricked his eyes. He’d always managed on his own, always been the one to take care of everyone else. Alistair’s offer felt like a gift—no, it was Alistair who was the gift. Kind behind his prickly exterior, loyal and brave, always ready to do anything for his family and friends…Sam still didn’t understand why Alistair had chosen someone as uninteresting as himself, but he was grateful for it every day.
“A-all right,” he said, voice trembling.
Alistair kissed him again, this time on the lips. “I’ll be in soon.”
Sam stayed in the bathroom long enough to run a damp washcloth over his skin, clearing away the fear-sweat and grime. When he finally slid beneath the sheets, his mind immediately began to replay the moment of the explosion. The terror, the ringing in his ears, the shouts and screams…
He tossed and turned, trying to blot out the images, but when Alistair came in he was still wide awake. “I thought you’d be out the second your head touched the pillow,” Alistair remarked as he undressed.
Sam flopped onto his back and sighed. “I’m physically exhausted, but my mind keeps going back to the bomb and the gunman.”
Alistair slid into bed and propped himself on his elbow. “Yeah, I should have realized. It took a while for me to learn to fall asleep after an action.”
While Sam’s poor eyesight had exempted him from the Selective Service, Alistair and his first witch had fought in France. The newspapers had printed a rosy picture of the American Expedition Force’s exploits, but judging by what little he’d gathered from Alistair, the reality had been much darker. No one had come back the same, and some former soldiers—Sam’s old neighbor Tommy Dodge and Alistair’s first witch Forrest—hadn’t been able to live with the things they’d seen and done.
“It shouldn’t bother me, I wasn’t really hurt,” Sam started, but Alistair gently placed a finger over his lips.
“Well, it scared the hell out of me. I’m sorry you had to go through it. Fucking Sullivan…” he trailed off, grinding his teeth. “Never mind. I don’t want to talk about him right now.”
Alistair had never approved of Sam going to work for Sullivan. Tonight wasn’t going to make him any more of a fan. He might have accepted losing the argument, but he hadn’t done so graciously, and Sam didn’t want to fight right now either.
“I’ll be all right,” he said.
Alistair’s eyes were the same warm amber as his cheetah form’s. “I know you will. Maybe you’ll sleep better if I give you a thorough check-over?”
He waggled his eyebrows, and Sam laughed, even as heat rose to his cheeks. “I didn’t undress for the doctor, so there might be some spots he missed.” His own words made him blush even harder, but Alistair only grinned.
“Well, then. I’d better make a careful inspection.”
He kissed Sam, lightly at first, then more deeply. Sam’s body responded eagerly, blood rushing to his cock, skin tingling, everything aching for Alistair’s touch.
Alistair was as good as his word, languidly exploring Sam’s skin starting with a trail of kisses down his neck. He reached to caress Alistair in return, but had his fingers deftly caught.
“Lie still,” Alistair said with a sly grin. “Doctor’s orders.”
Sam whimpered in response. It was delicious torture to remain still while Alistair explored his body, brushing kisses down both arms, then moving on to his chest. He gasped and arched when Alistair’s mouth found one nipple.
“Tsk, tsk,” Alistair said. He drew back just enough to blow cool air over the wet nipple, stiffening it further. “I did say not to move. Maybe I should stop?”
“N-no, please.” Sam wanted to squirm against him, so instead he clenched his hands in the bedsheets.
“That’s what I thought,” Alistair murmured, then went back to work with his wicked mouth. He slid under the covers, traced a path down Sam’s belly, torturously avoiding his leaking cock. He licked the inside of his thighs, kissed his knees, then slowly reversed course. “There seems to be one part I’ve missed so far…”
It was everything Sam could do not to buck his hips when Alistair took him in his mouth. He gripped the sheets harder, gasping with pleasure as Alistair worked him with lips and tongue, sliding almost to the root, then back up, then down again.
It was too divine to last long. “I’m close,” he whispered, and was rewarded with even more of an effort on Alistair’s part, driving him over the edge. Light blazed behind his eyes and his back arched helplessly as he came.
