Hellsinger 01 - Fish and Ghosts (P) (MM) by Rhys Ford

Author:Rhys Ford [Ford, Rhys]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THEY WERE so different. Tristan could feel their differences in his bones. Wolf’s cockiness, the arrogance of his spirit, and the staunch belief the world was for his taking amazed Tristan to a stunned silence.

But nothing stunned him more than hearing the gorgeous Wolf Kincaid murmur sweet nothings over his body and then telling Tristan he’d be there forever.

It was bedroom talk. Tristan knew the flimsiness of such words. They had as much substance as the ghosts who wisped into his life every few days and stole his towels, taking them to God knew where. He only hoped that when Wolf left, he’d leave his thievery to the Grange’s bath linens instead of stealing Tristan’s heart as well.

And if he did—Tristan closed his eyes so Wolf couldn’t see the pain he knew would be filling them—at least he would have this time with the brash, piratical investigator to look back upon and say he’d brought someone incredible to his pleasure. That would have to be enough. He was a Pryce, Tristan reminded himself. Pryces didn’t do happily-ever-afters. And when there was anything remotely resembling an after, it either died into a business-like relationship or crashed against the rocks in a violent demise.

There were no afters. Only nows. And Tristan was going to grab hold of the one right in front of him and let it ride him until he could only smell, taste, and feel Wolf Kincaid.

“It’s enough,” he murmured when he heard the lubricant jar click open and the smell of rich chocolate nearly drowned the aroma of their mingled bodies. “Take a chance. It’s going to be enough.”

“I don’t have any on my fingers yet, so no, there’s not enough.” Wolf kissed the inside of Tristan’s knee. Skimming his hand over Tristan’s belly, he traced small circles around his navel. “Tell me you’re sure, Tristan. Please… whatever you say, I’ll go with you.”

When he opened his eyes, Tristan was surprised to see how close Wolf was to his face. The man’s eyes filled his vision, an ocean of possibilities, most of them wicked and wet.

Hooking his hands around the back of Wolf’s head, Tristan pulled him in for a kiss. It was savage, brought up from someplace primal Tristan didn’t even realize he had in him. At least not until he found himself delving deep into Wolf’s mouth with his tongue to steal the breath from the man’s body.

He pulled off, still holding Wolf firm between his spread palms, and cocked his head. “How much more are you going to make me beg, Wolf Kincaid?”

“No, babe,” Wolf panted. “No need to beg. I got it.”

He hit the bed again, pushed down by one of Wolf’s powerful hands. The chocolate scent grew stronger; then he felt the brush of cold fingers along his taint. Tristan jerked, nearly bringing his knees up into Wolf’s chin.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just wasn’t… expecting… I thought you had… lube on your fingers.”

“No, we’re not quite there yet.” Wolf grinned, then kissed him soundly as he lowered his knees.

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