Catch a Ghost by SE Jakes

Author:SE Jakes [Jakes, SE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2013-09-01T16:00:00+00:00

“There’s nothing that matches,” Tom said after four hours of searching for beating deaths in conjunction with the location of the blood match—or at least the general area. But the building was abandoned, owned by the city, which meant anyone could break in, hold a fight, and leave with no consequences. Another dead end.

While he’d been staring at the computer, Prophet had alternated between looking over his shoulder, randomly pacing, and handing him ice wrapped in towels for his ribs. “How the hell did you ever do recon?

Prophet glanced at him. “I can be still when I need to be. But right now, I don’t need to be.”

Tom sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. Prophet moved his hands away and used the tips of his fingers to massage the bunched muscles.

He let himself sink forward to give Prophet better access, and he was sure the man would snort and stop.

But he didn’t, making Tom ask, “Why?”

“Why what?” Prophet’s fingers were like magic, digging into the sore muscles and tender spots on his neck, working out the kinks.

“Why are you being nice?”

“Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“Or throw me completely off balance.”

“Only for your own good.”

Maybe that was true. Prophet hadn’t threatened him with Phil once. But that didn’t mean all was forgiven, at least where Tom was concerned.

After several more minutes of massage, Tom was convinced that Prophet was literally pulling all the fight out of him and turning him into a girl, because he heard himself ask, “Do you really believe I would’ve fucked anyone last night?”

He winced after he said it.

“I don’t know you all that well, Tommy.”

No, he didn’t. But Tom couldn’t shake the taunt from his mind.

Does it bother you that he might be right?

Prophet still didn’t stop the massage, going over his temples, down his shoulders. “I’m better without the casts.”

“I don’t know if I’d survive that.”

Prophet chuffed a laugh, his breath warm on the back of Tom’s neck. He was tracing the tattoo Tom had there, but that’s not what he commented on. His fingers trailed down to the exposed feathers from the dreamcatcher on his right biceps. “You have bad dreams, Tommy.”

Tom didn’t answer, because it hadn’t seemed to be a question. Not really, because Prophet was yanking Tom’s shirt over his head. “You’re good at calming people down.”

“I’m good at a lot of things.” Prophet’s casted hands slid down his chest, fingers flicking his piercings. “Can’t do a lot with my hands. Gonna have to use my tongue instead.”

Oh, yeah. Prophet’s submissiveness was long gone. The man behind him was a stalking panther, and he wasn’t going to stop until he had his way.

“If we fuck now, then you’ll know it was me fucking you and not the drugs,” Tom said, pushing himself up and turning to face Prophet.

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