Fortune's Favor

Chapter Three

Three days later, Avery lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. They’d made little headway talking to the neighbors. Most remembered Dixon as a pleasant if quiet man who was away as much as he’d been in town when he lived there. No one had seen him since. From what Jack had dug up on him, Dixon worked for the government in a contractual capacity, and his name had been flagged. So Jack was handing off the intel-gathering to a few friends who could pass undetected through official channels.

Just more bad news that Dixon would be a problem to handle. The blade being stolen was bad enough. The thing seemed to like sinking into human flesh, if the reports could be believed. Though Avery and his peers did things most people couldn’t fathom, an inanimate object acting as if it were alive was a hard concept to swallow.

He shifted in bed and linked his hands behind his head. He felt better today than he had yesterday. Though they were supposed to give the appearance of doing repairs, he’d actually fixed a set of stairs and patched some drywall to alleviate boredom. Hauling the equipment helped lessen the physical tension building as well, because he’d started to feel that familiar itch along the base of his spine, the one that told him if he didn’t start pushing his mind and body, he’d have problems. The daily runs weren’t doing it.

Though he didn’t regret joining the PWP, he did wish his withdrawal from the program hadn’t been so demanding. The drugs they’d given him while he’d been in had strengthened his abilities. He could now call on his prognostication, though he couldn’t predict what he’d see. Sometimes focusing on a particular object or person helped, and sometimes it didn’t. And what Avery saw always came to pass. He couldn’t change the future, or at least he hadn’t thus far, so he didn’t like looking there unless he needed to.

Fortunately his skills aided in his job. He normally caught glimpses of criminals, and depending upon the agent in question, he could often help their new cases. He’d seen a missing painting’s whereabouts not too long ago. Their agent had successfully brought it back intact and snagged himself a wife in the process.

He snorted. Wouldn’t that be a kicker? Major Avery Holton, psychic matchmaker? At the thought, he immediately imagined Nathan. The sandy-haired playboy seemed back to normal. Aggravating, appealing, and making a swath through the locals. He’d already had several women ask for his number, and he took great amusement and delight in telling Avery all about it.

Avery had matured past the point where boys kissed and told, and even at that young age, he’d never shared his personal life. He didn’t hide the fact that he liked men and women sexually, but he didn’t see the need to show it off either. Unlike Nathan, who had nothing better to do with this social life than parade an endless supply of pretty boys under Avery’s nose.

He scowled, remembering how each and every one of Nathan’s conquests had made him feel—annoyed, angry, possessive. The confusing need for Nathan made him want to go against his hard and fast rule of no fucking around with coworkers. Maybe if he’d gotten the man out of his system, he could react normally around him.

Then again, he and Nathan didn’t usually work together, not on PWP-type missions. The gym was different. Since he’d been put on the night shift, he and Nathan cleaned equipment, helped out gym-goers, and worked out themselves. Nathan had height and brawn but not a killer instinct. Oh, he boxed well enough, and he could wrestle with the best of them. But Avery instinctively knew best how to handle an opponent. With Nathan, he would muscle the big man down flat on his back. Then his fantasies intruded, and he’d see himself straddling Nathan’s face and shoving his cock in that warm, wet mouth.

Avery swore to himself and rolled onto his belly. His cock throbbed, and he wished he’d gotten off in the bars Nathan had frequented days ago. Maybe a handjob would have relieved this constant ache. For Nathan.

Avery groaned. He had a habit of being honest with himself. For months now, he’d been trying to convince himself to ignore the truth. He wanted Nathan more than was healthy. He still didn’t know if he liked the guy, but Jesus, he wanted to fuck that beautiful man. To feel Nathan’s firm ass glove his cock, to watch that talented mouth swallow him whole, suck on his balls, lick at his ass.

Without meaning to, he blanked out…into a vision.

“Dammit. Wake up.”

Still lying on his stomach, his head turned to the side, Avery blinked into Nathan’s face. The low light in the hallway played over concerned green eyes and a mouth pinched with worry.

“You okay? You were moaning and moving.” Nathan sounded stilted, as if he had a hard time breathing. His gaze had drifted to Avery’s bare ass, the sheets gathered around his thighs.

Avery suddenly recalled his vision—an erotic, playful interlude that had him so hard. Without giving himself a chance to think, he rolled over and yanked Nathan down with him.

“What the—Hey!”

Before Nathan could say another word, Avery kissed him. The blistering intensity of his need scorched him with desire when he thrust his tongue into Nathan’s mouth, and Nathan reciprocated. The hands bracing against his shoulders softened into a hold. Then Nathan pulled him tighter so their bare chests touched.

“Yes. God, yes,” Nathan whispered as he all but devoured Avery.

The passion between them was as dangerous as Avery had suspected it might be. But he didn’t care. He wanted nothing more than to come with Nathan. His cock brushed against Nathan’s boxer briefs, the soft feel of cotton covering an equally impressive erection driving him insane.

Nathan tried to control the kiss, but Avery wasn’t built that way. He rolled them both over so Nathan lay on his back while Avery topped him. He kissed a path from Nathan’s mouth to his ear, loving the stubble over Nathan’s cheeks. “You’re going to be mine.”

“You…had…a vision? A-about this?” Nathan managed before Avery sneaked his tongue into Nathan’s ear. He nipped his lobe and ground into the cock bucking up against his body. “Fuck, Avery. Give me more.”

Nathan sounded out of his mind. Crazed with lust was all Avery could think. But at this point, he didn’t care. Nathan hadn’t said no, and the future was all but laid out for them. He’d seen it.

He slowly kissed his way down Nathan’s body, forcing Nathan to remain still with his hands. He pressed down hard, loving the force he had to use to keep the large man from moving. The power exchange must have pleased Nathan as well, because his halfhearted struggles resulted in an iron bar in his underwear and growing dampness there.

“I wanna watch you come,” Avery murmured, taken with Nathan’s feel. Such hard muscles and weathered skin. A few scars dotted his torso, marks that told their own story. Nathan might be a playboy with men, but he was dangerous as well. Avery stopped at Nathan’s hairless chest, his breathing ragged.

He didn’t care if Nathan shaved or was naturally devoid of hair. The sight of all that strength and those hard nipples made his mouth water.

He sucked one nipple and bit down.

“Christ. Yes.” Nathan gripped his hair and arched into him.

Avery turned his attention to Nathan’s other nipple and did the same. The grunts and groans between them added to the intensity, and it was all Avery could do not to come all over the hard body beneath him. He wanted to fuck, to release the tension, the desire, the frustration Nathan held over him, but the condoms and lube seemed too far away. Anything not within reach wouldn’t work.

He pushed up from Nathan and stared. Heavy-lidded eyes regarded him, and Nathan’s slick, swollen mouth quirked into a half smile. Avery skimmed down Nathan’s torso and tugged his underwear off.

A thick, long cock sprang free, tufts of sandy brown hair surrounding the powerful shaft. Nathan’s balls were heavy, tight globes that Avery wanted nothing better than to feel mashed against his pelvis while they fucked.

He knelt next to Nathan on the bed. “You’re big,” he said in a thick voice, unable to look away. Odd that before now, he’d never seen Nathan naked at the gym, not even when changing.

“So are you. Fuck. You’re huge.” Nathan sat up and reached for Avery’s cock. “I need lube, but I can’t move.”

“Me either.” It all played out as it had in Avery’s mind just moments ago, but it was so much better. Real and powerful. And scary. Because Avery experienced more than lust when he looked into Nathan’s eyes. Affection had blossomed from a seed of annoyance. None of Nathan’s off-putting quirks seemed to matter much right now. Avery wanted to blame it all on his hormones, but this softening around his heart was different.

Nathan surprised him by knocking him back. Avery landed on his ass and braced himself on his hands. But before he could move, Nathan leaned down and took Avery’s cock to the back of his throat.

“Fuck me.” He groaned and widened his legs, helped by Nathan’s firm hands on his thighs. “Oh yeah. So good.” He couldn’t help the tiny pumps of his hips. Nathan knew how to please a man in the way he rolled his tongue, dragged his teeth, and sucked with his whole mouth. Avery knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. Then Nathan cupped his balls and ran a finger underneath his ass, pushing into his anus.

Avery stared down at that golden brown head. The desire, the hungry need for more than a body—for Nathan—stood out as his lover drew him closer to orgasm.

He sat on the precipice of climax, his world close to shattering, and saw another glimpse of the future, one in which he and Nathan smiled and held hands. The shared joy in the look broke him free of the vision, and he jerked and groaned when Nathan fully penetrated him with a finger.

The release was welcome and disappointing at the same time, because Nathan had taken charge. He continued to come down Nathan’s throat, his heart racing like he’d run a marathon.

Nathan finally released him, grinned, and wiped his lips. “Talk about a mouthful.” He sat back and held himself by the root, his tip wet, his balls drawn up tight. “How about my turn?”

Avery wanted to. He knew Nathan was clean because he’d snooped through his files. And by the grace of God, Nathan hadn’t fucked anyone since their yearly physical a few weeks ago. But still, just days ago, Nathan had been in a bar trying to get laid by strangers. The intimacy of kissing the man’s dick was too new and too meaningful for him to ignore.

Nathan frowned.

Avery didn’t want to ruin the mood, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to be dumb about it. He’d go down on Nathan when he was damn good and ready. Not now. When he had a handle on these stupid feelings. He shoved Nathan and managed to get him into position on the bed, on his hands and knees.

“What are you doing?” Nathan struggled, but Avery wouldn’t let him go.

He leaned over him, fitting his still semihard cock against the crack of Nathan’s ass. “Feel me? I’m going to take you here soon.”

“No, I—”

“Will do what you’re told. And you’ll come so fucking hard.” Avery reached around Nathan and stroked him. He rubbed Nathan’s precum over his shaft to make him slick, and he couldn’t help surging against Nathan’s ass while he pumped his lover.

“You’re holding me tight. So tight.” Nathan gasped and moaned. “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah. All over my hand. All over the bed.” Avery whispered of the darker things he wanted to share with Nathan. Bondage. Dominance. A bite of pain.

Nathan swore and came hard. He covered Avery’s hand.

“Finish yourself. All of it,” Avery commanded and used the cum on his hand to grease his cock. He slid faster against Nathan’s ass while Nathan jerked out the last of his release. It didn’t take Avery but a minute to come once more, this time over Nathan’s back.

The release should have satisfied him. Coming twice in the span of an hour would have exhausted him…before Nathan.

They knelt there, panting in the barely lit room. Avery leaned over Nathan, sliding through his own seed. And Nathan remained bent over, taking what Avery had decided to give him.

He would regret the intimacy in the morning. He could feel it. But right now, all was right with the world. He lay down next to Nathan, not bothering to clean up.

In a gritty voice, Nathan said, “I left you a nice big wet spot. Glad it was your bed and not mine.”

Avery wanted to comment, to say something smart, but instead he felt himself drifting into sleep. Between two visions and his violent orgasms, he had nothing left but rest on the menu. As he fell into slumber, his last thought was of where Nathan would sleep, and why it would bother him if the playboy went back to his own room.

Nathan stared down at Avery, not sure how to feel. He’d finally fucked around with Avery Holton, and it had been hotter than anything he could have imagined…or had ever felt in his life. And then his amazing lover had fallen asleep.

Wondering whether or not to feel insulted, he recalled the odd circumstances that had led him here in the first place. Avery slept quietly. The man rarely made noise. So the moans and thrashing Nathan had heard coming from the room had alarmed him. He’d raced in only to find his partner restless yet asleep. It reminded Nathan of the way Avery acted when having a vision of the future, except he hadn’t known Avery to have them while unconscious.

Then again, there were a lot of things he hadn’t known about Avery until tonight. How he tasted so sweet and salty at the same time. How huge that cock would be, how erotic it would feel sliding against his ass, or how fucking addictive it would be to touch him. Nathan studied his new lover, wanting to suck Avery off all over again. Damn, but the big bastard had come twice, and he’d come a lot. Nathan reached behind him and felt the sticky mess on his lower back.

Was he messed up that he liked Avery on his skin? That he’d taken pleasure in swallowing the man? He froze.

No condom. He hadn’t wanted one, hadn’t thought to use one, and that was more than stupid; it was dangerous. Though Avery seemed pretty particular, who the hell knew what he did in his spare time? Obviously more than Diane, because Avery hadn’t batted an eye about fucking Nathan, a man. The big liar.

Nathan wanted to be angrier that Avery had deliberately misled him about his sexual orientation. But had he? In retrospect, Avery had never said he wasn’t into men. Nathan had assumed that because Avery liked women and had never shown any interest in him, he wasn’t into guys. Trust Avery to once again not meet his expectations. Instead of a homophobe for a partner, Nathan had a bisexual psychic warrior who’d worked for Uncle Sam.

The thought brought forth a chuckle. Nathan leaned down to brush some hair from Avery’s eyes. The black stuff felt soft, silky smooth. “Jeez, even in sleep you’re a hard-ass.” Nathan noted the hard planes of that unforgiving face, the stubborn jaw and commanding nose. Dark brows swept together in a frown until Nathan ran a finger over his cheek.

Avery eased into a sigh and breathed deeper.

A funny feeling settled on Nathan. As he pulled the covers over Avery and finally felt the chill of January stealing his heat, he came to the conclusion that once with Avery wouldn’t be enough. Nathan often took charge in bed, because he’d rarely met a man bigger than himself, or one he trusted to do the job right. Avery hadn’t asked. He’d done what came naturally. And Nathan had let him.

It hadn’t bothered him at all when Avery had positioned him on the bed and humped him while giving him a heavenly reach-around. He couldn’t help dwelling on it as he hurried into his bedroom and through it to a private bath. There he ran hot water. After stepping into the shower, he cleaned himself up and let the soak do him good.

Images of Avery’s cock, of his strong body accepting Nathan’s touch, made him hard all over again. But instead of jerking off, Nathan waited. He’d save his extra energy for Avery. That was if the sexy jerk didn’t try to pretend tonight hadn’t happened. Nathan had run into the type from time to time. Avery had been more than comfortable getting blown. He’d come the second time all over Nathan’s back. But the morning after might look a lot different to the conservative major.

Maybe not so conservative. Nathan grinned. Avery had whispered a lot of dirty things while they’d been fucking…and not fucking. He would have loved some anal penetration, but having to leave Avery’s delicious body for even one second to grab a condom would have been too long. He didn’t regret what they’d done, only that they hadn’t tried long before now.

After his shower, Nathan threw on underwear and a pair of flannel pants and hopped into bed. He wouldn’t have minded sharing Avery’s, but he didn’t plan to sleep in that wet spot, and he wanted a sure welcome the next morning. One thing he could say for certain; their interlude had swept him from his nightmares sure to come.

The past two nights had been difficult at best. Though he’d been fine throughout the day, interacting with the locals and looking for information, at night he couldn’t help remembering the past. His uncle was a monster. Malcolm’s selfish need to have Danielle all to himself, her lies about who she was to Nathan, and that fucking cellar he still hadn’t entered tumbled in his thoughts when the calm descended and the quiet surrounded him.

But tonight he had Avery to think about. Plotting ways to push past the domineering man’s walls occupied him throughout his dreams. He woke the next morning feeling refreshed, so much so that he ignored the coffeepot first thing and ran a few miles to heat his blood, even through the snow. He returned in good spirits and laughed out loud when Avery glared at him over his steaming mug in the kitchen.

“Hey there, sunshine.”

Avery frowned. “You’re never up this early.”

“I had a good night.” No time like the present to see how Avery handled the next day.

“You should have. You left a mess in my bed.”

Hmm. He didn’t ignore it, but he didn’t seem eager to repeat the experience.

“So maybe next time we use my bed,” Nathan offered.

The noncommittal grunt he received annoyed him. Not a yes or a no, but a maybe in nonverbal?

Avery sipped his coffee and read the local paper. Nathan scowled, no longer in a good mood. Then Avery stood and stretched, and Nathan’s gaze automatically sought the exposed line of his belly where his sweater and jeans parted.

“You’re so easy.” Avery snickered.

Startled, Nathan looked up to see his partner smiling. “I would say the same, but you had me completely fooled.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Smug didn’t begin to describe what could only be called a cheery Avery. “You were so holier-than-thou, thinking me some kind of bigot. I think it kind of turned you on, wanting a man you thought wouldn’t want you.”

“Yeah, right.” But Avery was closer to the truth than he knew. By deliberately disliking Avery, Nathan had put some much-needed distance between himself and a man he shouldn’t want. “But you did want me, didn’t you?”

Avery shrugged. “You’re hot, and you know it. You give great head.”

Nathan flushed. “What a compliment. Quick, let me add it to my résumé.”

Another smile. Holy shit. Avery had grinned at him twice in the span of ten minutes. “You’re such a smart-ass. The run must have helped. That and getting off last night,” Avery said drily.

“Yep. And you know, say what you want, but it’s a good thing I have a healthy ego. Otherwise I might have been upset when you came and fell asleep without even a thank-you.”

Trust Avery to have no shame. The man didn’t blink. “Hey, I had a vision. Tapped me out, and then you sucked the life out of me.”

“Twice.”

Avery chuckled. “Right. Of course I fell asleep.” He stood and dumped his coffee cup in the sink. “I’m going for a run. When I get back, we’ll talk about today’s schedule.”

Before Nathan could ask him about that, Avery left. “High-handed asshole,” he muttered. But Avery had a point. Digging for information on Malcolm with the neighbors wasn’t working. The man had been a mystery to the town, gone as often as he’d been there, and always wearing the pleasant mask he’d shown Nathan’s aunt.

Not aunt. Mother.

Nathan stared glumly at the coffeepot. He had to deal with the truth eventually. Aunt Danielle had been his birth mother. The woman he’d thought was his mother had been her sister, Michelle Kraft. Why hadn’t Danielle kept him? And if she hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, why take him in after her sister passed? His grandmother had been living at the time, and she’d doted on him before she’d died.

He had more questions than answers. But he couldn’t escape the fact that the most important woman in his life had lied to him for years. She’d been so loving, so accepting. From the first, she’d known he was a bit different. Like his father, she’d say, and always look so sad. From what his mother—Michelle—had told him, his father had died in a hit-and-run before he’d been born. She’d raised him alone, another loving female who supported him in all things. She’d been the one to help him build his mental shields, to homeschool him while he’d adapted to knowing things no normal kid could know.

Because of the woman he considered his mother, he’d gotten a handle on his ability from a young age. When she’d died, he’d been devastated. And then Aunt Danielle had arrived, looking so much like his mother it hurt to see her. The same green eyes, the same smile and gentle mien. Though Michelle had been two years older, there could be no doubt the women were related.

He’d always thought he had his mother’s eyes, and now he knew he did. Danielle’s eyes.

With a sigh, he poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down to eat. His metabolism had kicked into high gear again, and he needed to sustain his energy for the fight to come. Malcolm Dixon was a bad, bad man.

He knew what his sweet mother had seen in him, though. Handsome and muscular, Malcolm was a man’s man. He’d served in the army for a time before becoming some type of pharmaceutical sales consultant—or so he’d said. He traveled all over the place, but he always came home with a gift for Danielle. He’d seemed to really love her, as much as he hated Nathan. Nathan had never understood why his uncle loathed him. He’d never given the man any problems, had in fact looked up to him, the way a boy admired a father figure. But Malcolm had been anything but loving.

He rubbed his thigh, under his shorts near his buttocks, where Malcolm liked best to let the strap fly. Not enough to scar, but enough to leave welts that took time to heal. A careful abuser. He was always cold and in control when he beat Nathan. Never a hothead, but a true predator who knew exactly what he was doing. Nathan could only thank God his uncle had never sexually abused him. The very thought made him cringe.

He stared down at his empty bowl and poured another.

Avery paused in the doorway, looking sexy as hell in sweats and a skullcap. “Lucky Charms? Really?”

“Don’t even think about screwing with my cereal. You touch one magical marshmallow, and I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“So what else is new?” Avery muttered—not quite under his breath—before he turned away.

Nathan couldn’t help grinning when the door slammed. Having Avery annoyed with him put everything right with the world. The past would always be there, but the future had possibilities. He ate two more bowls of cereal and left the bowl for Avery to clean up when he returned. But on his way out of the kitchen, he made himself look into the far corner, the one place he’d avoided since arriving at the house.

The cellar door was the same. A thick oak wood painted black with a dead bolt high on the frame, too high for a slight twelve-year-old to reach…

A foot shoved him hard, and he tumbled down the stairs. He landed on his ass, a few bruises to add to the ones currently there. Something skittered in the pitch-black, and he bit back the cry that would fall on deaf ears. The cold bit deep into his flesh and bones. A soul-weary exhaustion filled him. When would this end? And then the footsteps… It wasn’t over yet. And that made everything worse.

“Come here, Nathan. Come to Uncle Malcolm and take your punishment.”

Punishment for what, he’d always ask. And every time, his uncle would beat him harder for not knowing. A smarter boy would have made something up, but Nathan had been stubborn back then, like now. He’d never deserved any of Malcolm’s abuse. He’d avoided his aunt after each occurrence, not wanting her to know, because Malcolm had warned him that if she did, he’d hurt her too. And then that one day he hadn’t been careful enough, and Danielle had seen the hint of a welt under his shirt…

Nathan shrugged the memories away as he exited the kitchen. Not yet. But soon, he’d go down those stairs. He’d get past his fears and find the strength to defeat his uncle. And in the doing, he’d find out what the hell had really happened seventeen years ago, when his uncle had tried to kill Danielle and instead ended up with Nathan’s knife in the center of his chest, where his heart should have been.