Chapter Twenty-Three

The Cold Light of Day

Vince

My entire body throbbed and ached, limbs too heavy to move and eyes burning with exhaustion even though I’d eventually fallen asleep, maybe just an hour or two ago.

I could smell warm skin and dried sweat as I slowly came to, and I realised my nose was pressed to the back of Crossbody’s shoulder, an arm slung heavily over his waist. He’d turned in his sleep a while ago and curled up while I’d lain there staring at the ceiling, his naked back pressed tightly to my side, his breaths deep and even.

I’d told myself then to get up and leave, once he was no longer draped on top of me. But I hadn’t. Evidently I had, instead, eventually dozed off and turned toward him, wrapping myself around him from behind.

My cock felt overly tender as it brushed against his ass, and I winced and carefully rolled onto my back, rubbing my eyes. Crossbody didn’t stir. His hair was a tangled mess on the pillow, the pointed tip of his ear poking up between the strands. Between his shoulder blades, framing his spine, were two faint slits where his wings usually emerged. I resisted the urge to lightly trace them with my finger.

My stomach felt shaky with exhaustion, and I exhaled a slow, unsteady breath as my heavy eyes drifted over the room. Murky light was beginning to creep under the curtains, which meant it was almost morning.

We’d stayed all night.

Fuck.

This was not what I’d planned. This was not how I’d expected things to go.

I’d been planning on fucking him once, hard and fast, getting it over with, then leaving.

That was definitely not what had ended up happening.

I slowly sat up, trying not to disturb him, and had to hold back an agonised groan. My core and thigh muscles burned worse than any post-workout DOMS I’d ever experienced. I couldn’t even remember how many times I’d fucked him in the end. They all blurred into one. Just a long stretch of frantic, endless fucking, his skin against mine, his body clenching around me and gripping my cock tight, his desperate moans clouding my head and making me almost rabid.

My legs were shaky as I slid off the bed and padded across the room to my pile of clothes on the floor. I dressed slowly and in silence, trying not to pay too much attention to the sound of Crossbody’s deep, peaceful breaths from the bed.

He had to be beyond exhausted. And sore. I finally let myself glance over and my gaze settled on his ass, his long legs curled up and back hunched in a delicate curve as he slept on his side. He looked vulnerable, almost fragile. My chest ached, and I gritted my teeth and turned my back on him to collect my stuff from the dresser.

It was done. We’d agreed that we would never do it again, so that was it. And, I mean, there was no denying that we’d made the most of it. I’d never had that much sex in a single night in my entire life.

Dan probably had, though. Pre-Rafe. Or, hell, maybe with Rafe. I had no idea. While we’d been at the bar the other night, I’d heard him whisper something to Rafe about fucking a pumpkin, which had made the other ghoul blush deeply, so evidently they got up to some kinky stuff.

Once I was fully dressed, I hovered uncertainly in the middle of the room. Part of me—the part that felt wildly unsettled by what had happened, by falling asleep with him, by seeing him soft and vulnerable like this—wanted to sprint out of the room and leave him here to wake up alone.

But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Stomach shaky with exhaustion and nerves, I bent to collect his clothes and did my best to neatly fold them. They felt expensive, the fabric soft, and I found myself staring down at them before I was suddenly bringing his shirt closer to my nose. I jerked my hands back down when I realised what I was doing and set the pile on the end of the bed.

Glancing at the time on my phone, I saw it was just past 6 a.m. We’d both want to—we both desperately needed to—shower before work, and I knew Crossbody would want to get far away from this place before there was a chance of anyone seeing him.

I quietly walked around the bed and hesitated before sinking down onto the edge, looking at his face, soft and open and vulnerable in a way I’d never seen him before. Not even last night.

I found myself reaching out and gently smoothing his wild hair back from his face, before snatching my hand away when his brows twitched and he made a soft sound.

Clenching my jaw, I attempted to push down everything churning in my gut and rasped, “Crossbody.”

He seemed to almost wake up, nose scrunching a little as his hand slid across the mattress toward me before he settled again with a long exhale.

After a pause, I rested my hand on his shoulder. “Crossbody.”

His eyelashes fluttered, so I whipped my hand away and waited as he began to wake up. His eyes slowly opened, even more hooded than normal, and he rubbed them as he rolled onto his back with a groan.

I forced myself to keep my eyes on his face and not take in the long, elegant lines of his nude body. We were done with that. It was done. No more.

“We should get going,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Get ready for work.”

He blinked a few times, growing more alert, before looking at me, his purple eyes dark in the early morning gloom. His pale mauve skin seemed to glow against the sheets beneath him, and I finally let my gaze flit down his body, just quickly. Just once.

There were bruises from my fingertips on his narrow hips. And his inner thighs.

My gut swooped with a confusing blend of guilt and arousal.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked awkwardly, then leaned over to grab the half-full water bottle I’d gone to buy at reception last night. The incubus behind the desk had glanced up and smirked but said nothing. It had been beyond obvious what I’d been doing in here.

As Crossbody struggled up onto his arms, trembling lightly, I unscrewed the lid and held out the bottle.

“Here.” Because he hadn’t answered me, I asked again, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” His voice was low and throaty. He took the drink and sipped it, back hunched with exhaustion as he shifted his long legs to cross them. His knee pressed against my hip, making me tense, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“Are you sore?” I asked awkwardly, but I wanted to know. I hadn’t gone easy on him. At all.

He nodded, licking his lips before taking another sip. “Yes.”

My insides tightened. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He lifted his head to look at me, and my chest tightened even more when our eyes met. “It’s what I wanted. Thank you.”

My knee started to bounce anxiously as I picked at the cuff of my sweater. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Yes, I do.” His breath shuddered out of him as he looked down at the bottle cradled between his hands. “I do.”

Even after everything, I couldn’t really believe how placid he was being. I’d expected him to wake up already tense and defensive and angry. I’d been anticipating it, almost perversely looking forward to it. To yet another furious, heated sparring match with him.

Because this—him acting like this, soft and peaceful and relaxed in my presence—was making me unbearably anxious. Unsettled. It was fucking with my head.

This wasn’t how we were around each other. We hated each other.

Last night shouldn’t have changed that.

I told myself to put a cold, unfeeling wall up. To tell him to hurry the fuck up because I was done with him and I wanted to leave. To remind him that I’d only done this because he’d begged me for it. To reiterate that I still couldn’t stand him.

He made a tired little sound as he rubbed his eye and tried to push back his tangled hair, and I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.

“Do you want a shower before we go?” I asked, then heard myself add, “I can help. If you’re not feeling too steady.”

He shook his head, finally shifting toward the edge of the bed, so I hurriedly took the bottle from him. “No, it’s fine. I’ll do it when I get home. Thank you.”

Swallowing thickly, I watched as he got unsteadily to his feet and let out a trembling exhale. I knew he was feeling the same shaky, exhausted sensation in his gut that I was. Work was going to be rough for both of us.

Rubbing his chest, he looked around for his clothes and froze for a second when he spotted them poorly folded at the end of the bed. He didn’t say a word as he got dressed, but I heard him inhale sharply when he tugged his briefs over his ass.

“Sorry,” I mumbled again, heat flooding my face. I should’ve been more careful with him. I definitely shouldn’t have fucked him that many times. Or that hard. It had been his first time bottoming.

He shook his head as he fastened his pants, and my throat closed up a little when I saw a tiny, contented smile curve his lips.

“I’ll be fine by tonight.” His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it before.

“Maybe take it easy at work,” I said anxiously, finally standing.

He nodded, still shockingly loose and pliant. “I will.”

I watched in silence as he slipped his shirt on and buttoned it, his fingers still lightly trembling. He left it untucked and pulled his keys out of his pants pocket, then looked at me.

Clearing my throat, I walked over to the dresser and grabbed my keys and the one for the room. In silence, we shifted into our human forms and walked outside, both of us squinting and blinking fast from the brightening morning sky.

“I need to go check out,” I told him, my voice sounding rough and loud in the still quiet of the near-empty parking lot.

He nodded, tired eyes flicking to the front office at the other end of the building. “Alright.”

“I guess… I’ll see you at work.” Something pierced through my chest as I said it. This was it. It was over. Whatever fucked-up thing had developed between us recently was done. Coming to an end right now, just as we’d agreed.

Crossbody nodded again, clutching his keys and shivering slightly in the cool dawn air. Neither of us moved, and my pulse leaped when he parted his lips.

“Thank you,” he said huskily, for the third time this morning. “Thank you, Vince.”

My gut squirming, I nodded once and heard myself hesitantly ask, “Was it what you wanted?”

His mouth spread into a wider smile, face still soft and tired and sated. “Yes.”

“Good.” I cleared my throat and gestured wordlessly at the front office, so he nodded and turned for his car.

I had to force my legs to move, force myself not to glance back as I heard him unlock his car and open the door. The engine sounded loud in the still morning when he turned it on, and an uncomfortable lump formed in my throat as I listened to him back out of the space and leave the parking lot.

It was over. That was it.

The same incubus from last night was still behind the front desk when I walked into the office. He perked up at the sight of me, a dirty grin spreading across his face.

“Did you enjoy your stay?” he asked with exaggerated politeness as I dropped the room key on the counter.

“Yep.”

His mouth twitched as he reached for the key. “I certainly did.”

“Don’t be gross, dude,” I said flatly.

“Don’t stay at an incubus-run motel and have wild, passionate sex all night if you don’t want me to benefit,” he countered, then chuckled. “Had to jerk off, like, five times last night thanks to the energy pouring out of your room. Don’t think I’ve ever felt this satisfied and well-fed without having sex myself.”

“Is this your idea of customer service?” I deadpanned.

“I’m just sayin’.” He shot me a wide grin, then curiously asked, “Who was in there with you?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Are you both coming back?” he asked eagerly.

My mood instantly blackened. “No.”

He pouted. “Why not?”

“Because we’re not,” I snapped. “Are we done here?”

The incubus sighed and turned to his monitor. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks for staying at the Elfknot Motel.”