Chapter Nineteen

Say Something

Vince

“I’m just saying, if the Beast of Burden doesn’t want everyone to be so intrigued by him, he shouldn’t insist on keeping his identity a secret,” Rafe said dryly, sipping his beer.

I was at Gargy’s with him and Dan, having met up with them after their weekly game night with Rafe’s buddies ended. I was trying to relax after the whirlwind of a day—meeting the new wrestlers and finding out I was going to have to do goddamn couples therapy with Crossbody.

Seriously, what the fuck was Corey thinking?

“He could just give us a fake name,” Dan agreed, his arm draped over the back of Rafe’s chair. “You’re right, kitten. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he hadn’t made it one.”

“Seems to be more his appearance he wants to hide,” I said thoughtfully. “Dunno why, though. And I’m pretty sure he didn’t say a fucking word the whole time they were there.”

“He didn’t.” Dan shrugged a little. “But the Ghastly Boys hardly spoke either. And they didn’t show their faces. They just didn’t make a whole thing of it.”

“What about the other two?” Rafe asked. “What are they like?”

I tensed, remembering watching Crossbody introduce himself to La Dame Blanche. I didn’t want to think about the way my belly had tightened when he’d started speaking fluent French in that low, smooth voice.

And they’d seemed almost… flirty. She’d touched his arm. And kissed his cheek.

I wanted to know what they’d been talking about.

“John seems alright,” Dan was saying with a shrug. “Eager to get started. Think I touched a nerve when I asked about Will-o’-the-Wisp, though. Apparently John-o’-the-Wisp doesn’t like that his older brother is way more famous than him.”

Rafe snickered, grinning at him and leaning in a little closer. Dan grinned back, ducking his head to kiss his cheek.

“And La Dame Blanche seems nice,” he added. “Crossbody started speaking French to her. Not surprised. He probably knows a million languages.”

“She seems fine, I guess,” I muttered into my beer. My phone vibrated in my pocket, so I pulled it out as I drained the last of my drink and started to say, “You two want another?”

The words died in my throat when I saw the name on the screen, my gut bottoming out.

Why was he calling me?

Holy crap.

“Who is it?” Dan asked, because I was frozen in place, staring down at the phone.

“Is it the dude you banged in the arena?” Rafe asked, which made them both snicker.

My throat bobbed as I stood up and absently said, “Uh, yeah.”

“Oooooh,” Dan called after me teasingly as I strode away from the table, “I wanna see the footage this time.”

“Dan,” Rafe chastised with a little growl. “No, you fucking don’t.”

“Just ’cause it’d be funny, kitten.”

Their voices faded as I took a deep breath, my palms sweating a little, and answered the call, bringing the phone to my ear as I stepped outside into the covered patio area. There were two guys standing down one end smoking, so I quickly walked to the other.

“Uh, hey.” My voice was rough with… something. Nerves, I realised, which made my jaw clench. Fuck him for making me nervous. Why the fuck was I nervous?

There was a long pause before his low voice sounded in my ear, making my belly clench.

“It’s Crossbody.”

“I know.”

Another long pause, followed by, “I don’t know why I called you.”

“Uh, okay.” My brow creased. I faced away from the two guys out here and kept my voice low, and I didn’t really know why. It wasn’t like it was a secret that he’d called me. Especially not from two strangers.

It wasn’t like we were going to talk about anything… private. I was pretty sure Crossbody would sooner lop off his precious wings than talk to me about what we’d done.

Three times now.

“Say something,” he said, and my brow creased further.

“You called me.”

“I know.” There was a tiny groan, followed by what sounded like sheets rustling, and my gut clenched again.

Was he in bed?

Why was he calling me while he was in bed?

“What do you want?” I asked, a bit more tersely than was warranted, because I didn’t like the way this was making me feel.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, sounding drowsy. “I don’t know what I want.”

I scrubbed a hand roughly over my face, and for some reason I wasn’t hanging up. I should’ve just told him to leave me alone and hung up. I had no fucking idea why he was calling me. Crossbody hated me.

“Vince,” he mumbled, making my breath catch. “Say something.”

I huffed and shoved a hand through my hair. “ You called me, Crossbody.”

“I know.”

There was another rustle of sheets, and I clenched my jaw as I pictured him lying in bed and heat stabbed through the pit of my stomach.

Was he naked?

“What are you doing?” I heard myself ask, my voice low and husky.

“I’m in bed.”

The heat swelled, twisting through my insides, making my cock twitch in my jeans. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” His voice sounded breathier now, and I could definitely hear sheets rustling. “Keep talking.”

“What do you want me to say?”

There was a pause as Crossbody’s breath shallowed, and my cock jerked, balls tightening. Was he…?

“What you said to me before.” His breath hitched. “In the arena. What you called me.”

My nostrils flared, spine snapping straight. Holy shit. Had Crossbody called me to have phone sex?

I quickly glanced back and realised the two guys were gone, then hunched over further and lowered my voice even more. Knowing I shouldn’t, knowing this would just make things even more confusing and fucked up, I rasped, “You want me to remind you what a little slut you are?”

Crossbody let out a breathy moan. The rustling sound grew more rhythmic—his hand rasping over the sheets as he stroked his cock.

Holy fuck. Crossbody was masturbating on the phone to me.

“Do you wish I was there, playing with your cock?” I heard myself rasp, having no fucking idea how I’d ended up in this position in the space of a few minutes. Standing in the corner of Gargy’s patio with a throbbing erection while I listened to Crossbody touch himself over the phone.

“Yes,” he breathed, still sounding a little slow and drowsy, almost like he was half-asleep.

“You liked me tying you up, didn’t you? You liked me putting you in your place. Reminding you that you’re just a desperate, cock-hungry little slut.”

“Yes,” he panted again. “I am. I w-want your cock.”

“Mine specifically?” A tiny, proud smirk tilted my lips. “You want my ghoul dick inside you, your highness?”

“Yes,” he moaned. “Yours. Gods, I want you to fuck me.”

For a brief, wild moment, I almost turned and strode right out of the bar without even saying goodbye to Dan and Rafe so I could drive to Crossbody’s house and do exactly that. But I didn’t even know where he lived, and besides… I couldn’t. Right? It wouldn’t end well. We’d just argue again after. It wouldn’t help anything.

But fuck, I wanted to.

So bad.

“Vince,” Crossbody moaned as I stood there, my free hand clenching repeatedly into a fist as I resisted the urge to grab my stiff cock through my jeans and squeeze. “Just one more time.”

My eyes widened as my spine shot straight. “What?”

“Just one more time,” he repeated pleadingly, breaths leaving him in shallow spurts. “Please. I need it.”

I swallowed, giving in and digging the heel of my palm into my aching cock. “You want us to…”

“I need you to fuck me. Just once. Just…” He whimpered. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

This was a bad idea. Such a bad idea.

Despite that, I heard myself start talking.

“You want to know how I’d fuck you?” My cock pulsed in my jeans. “I’d tie you up again so you were helpless and I could do anything I wanted to you. Depending on my mood, I’d either make you come so many times you’d be begging me to stop, or I’d make you wait until you were so mindless you’d do anything for it.”

“Yes. Please,” he panted, his voice wavering. “Keep going.”

“I’d fuck you so hard you’d forget your own name.” I didn’t even know his real name, so it was pretty fitting. “I’d fuck you as many times as I wanted while you’d just lie there and take it like the little slut you are. You’d just be my cumdump. The hole for me to unload into until I was bored of it.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, then inhaled sharply before he stopped breathing altogether.

I stood there, rigid, my cock throbbing and leaking, my ear hot from the phone pressed tightly to it. After a second, I heard a choked, desperate moan. A sound I was already familiar with.

He was coming.

“Fuck,” I muttered hoarsely, squeezing my aching dick and shuddering with pleasure.

I could picture it. His long legs splayed wide and quaking as he spurted cum all over his flat, toned stomach. His golden hair flowing over the pillow as he arched his elegant neck, lips parted and those hooded eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Fuuuck.

A long, relieved moan sounded down the phone, his breaths trembling a little, and for some reason it made my chest ache. He always looked so… soft and vulnerable after coming. It made my instincts clamour to the surface. Made me want to look after him.

“When?” he asked drowsily.

My nostrils flared, and my voice was gravelly with lust when I cautiously asked, “You actually want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

Crossbody. Smiling. While talking to me.

“I want you to fuck me, Vince,” he continued sleepily. Almost a little… slurred. “I need it.”

Something unpleasant crawled in my stomach, cutting through the lust pounding in my blood. He sounded… kind of strange. Not like himself. What I’d initially thought was tiredness actually almost sounded like…

“Are you drunk?” I asked, my voice thick with dread.

He snorted, the sheets rustling. “Yes.”

“Shit,” I hissed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Goddamnit.”

He laughed throatily, still sounding sated and relaxed from his orgasm. And drunk. He was fucking drunk. “It’s fine. So when?”

I swallowed thickly. “I don’t think—”

“Please,” he begged quietly, making my chest tighten. “Just once more. Just… so I know what it feels like.”

My brows shot up in alarm. “You’ve bottomed before, right?”

“No,” he breathed. “People don’t… expect me to want it.”

I swallowed. “But you do.”

“Yes. With you. I don’t know why it’s you, but I want you to fuck me, Vince.” He let out a shuddering breath. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

My throat bobbed again as I hoarsely, for some unknown fucking reason, admitted, “Me neither.”

“Please,” he rasped again. “Just once. Then we’ll stop. We won’t do it again.”

Fuck. Fuuuck .

“Okay.” Something like pure excitement swirled in my stomach. “Just once. Just so we can… get it out of our systems.”

“When?” he asked instantly.

“Uh…” I shoved my hair back again, staring at the ground. Part of me—mainly the part throbbing in my pants—wanted to ask for his address and go over there right now.

But obviously I couldn’t do that. He was drunk.

Shit, he might not even want this when he woke up in the morning.

I exhaled slowly and willed my body to calm. I had to be the responsible one here. Which, aside from looking after my uncle, was not really a position I was all that familiar with.

“I’ll text you a time and date,” I told Crossbody. “And if you still want this once you’ve sobered up, we’ll… go from there.”

There was a long pause, before he softly said, “I’ll still want it.”

I huffed. “You’re only saying that now because you’re drunk.”

“No,” he said hoarsely, “I’m admitting it now because I’m drunk.”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. This could go very, very badly in the morning. He’d probably end up blaming me for it, somehow. For him calling me, and making himself come while on the phone to me, and admitting that he wanted me to fuck him.

I was sure he’d find a way to make this all my fault, because he was going to be embarrassed and regretful, and he probably wouldn’t even want it anymore once he’d sobered up.

But on the off-chance that he still did…

“I’ll text you,” I said again. “Drink some water and go to sleep.”

“Alright,” he said softly, still pliant and submissive in the way that made me almost desperate to go and see him right now.

Which was a slightly horrifying thought. Me, desperate to go and see him . Crossbody.

“Uh… I guess… goodnight,” I said awkwardly.

“Night,” he mumbled back, sounding half-asleep. When he didn’t hang up straight away, I reluctantly lowered the phone and did it myself.

I stood there in silence for a minute, staring at nothing. Then the sound of the door opening had me glancing back to see a tall, slender woman in a silver minidress, possibly a fae, step outside with a cigarette in her hand.

She gave me a brief, polite smile as I turned and headed for the door. Then her eyes darted down and widened before she quickly looked away, mouth twitching.

A flush crawled up my neck as I strode inside and straight for the restrooms, glad no one else was around to see the very obvious erection in my pants. I went into the middle stall and locked the door behind me, and my hands trembled a little as I fumbled with my fly.

There was a glory hole in here. I was so horny that for a brief, unhinged moment, I considered shoving my throbbing cock through it, but the thought made me feel weirdly ill. Instead, I pulled my dick out and fisted it, groaning in relief.

I didn’t even know if anyone else was in here, but I didn’t care as I started stroking fast, one hand resting on the wall behind the toilet and my legs a little unsteady. My vision whited out when, barely thirty seconds later, the orgasm hit me hard and sudden. I had just enough sense to aim my dick down so I shot into the toilet bowl as a hoarse groan hissed between my clenched teeth.

I was weak and breathing hard when it ended, my hands trembling as I grabbed some tissue to clean up. When I stepped out of the stall, still doing up my pants, a guy washing his hands looked up sharply to stare at me in the mirror.

He was hot. Short, messy blond hair, dark blue eyes and a strong jaw. An incubus, I was pretty sure. There was a gleam in his eye that told me he knew exactly what I’d been doing in there, although I guessed I hadn’t been subtle about it.

I ignored the tiny smile on his face as I stepped up to the other sink and quickly washed my hands. Tension shot through me when he started to speak, his voice low and flirtatious.

“Hey… do you want to go back in there and—”

“Not interested.” I grabbed a paper towel to dry my hands and chucked it at the trashcan, then strode out before he could say anything else.

I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t interested. But I wasn’t.