In the Blood (Metahuman Files Book 4) Read online

  He turned his head into his arm as Jamie sank into him without stopping, feeling his body straining to open up to accommodate him. Jamie’s cock throbbed hotly inside him as he worked his way in, leaving Kyle panting for breath as heat washed through his body. Jamie grunted, holding Kyle still as he finally came to a stop, balls pressing flush against Kyle’s ass. Kyle could only swallow wordlessly against the pressure in his chest and throat that came from being filled so quickly.

  “You’re always so fucking tight. Can’t get enough of you like this,” Jamie said, stroking his thumb over the hard jut of Kyle’s hip.

  Then he pulled out and thrust back in with a sharp snap of his hips. Kyle groaned at the feel of Jamie’s cock sliding back in, feeling his own jerk at the strength coiled in Jamie’s body. Getting Jamie to lose control in bed was always a point of pride for Kyle, but tonight it didn’t seem he’d have to do much to urge Jamie on. They both needed a release from the tension of the mission.

  “Touch me, please, sir,” Kyle said, voice hitching as Jamie leaned forward. The position pushed his leg toward his chest, stretching out the muscles in his thigh.

  “No,” Jamie replied as he fucked in at just the right angle to make Kyle forget how to breathe.

  Kyle whined high in his throat as Jamie’s thrusts came faster, the slap of their bodies coming together echoing in the bedroom. Jamie kept both hands wrapped tight around Kyle’s hips as he drilled his cock into Kyle with a single-minded determination that left them both more than a little breathless. But Jamie didn’t stop, even as Kyle could feel his orgasm creeping up on him.

  “You’re gonna make me come,” he moaned, tossing his head back.

  Jamie slipped one hand around the base of Kyle’s cock, squeezing him hard enough that he gasped. “What did I say?”

  Kyle panted for breath, body tight from an unmet need as Jamie slowed the motion of his hips to hard, grinding circles that did little to stop the heat from growing low in his belly. “Not to come, sir.”

  “Then you better obey me.”

  Jamie punctured every word with a devastatingly hard thrust against Kyle’s prostate, making him cry out. His cock throbbed in Jamie’s hand, but the tight grip and his own desire to do as he was told kept Kyle from coming. Jamie smiled indulgently at him before shifting on his knees.

  “Yes, sir,” Kyle managed to get out, chest heaving in a rapid rise and fall. He was warm all over, nerves tingling, as Jamie kept him right on the edge.

  “Good,” Jamie grunted. “Keep being good for me.”

  Kyle whimpered as Jamie dragged him a little closer and proceeded to rapidly take him apart. Jamie fucked into him hard, over and over, the rough slide of his cock driving Kyle out of his mind. Kyle could only lie there and let Jamie take his own pleasure first, which he did with focused intent.

  Kyle knew when Jamie was close; his thrusts sped up and became harder, as if it were a race to the end. Jamie slammed in one last time before coming, pressing in hard against the cradle of Kyle’s hips. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut as his entire body trembled from the need to let go as Jamie spilled his release into him. Warm lips found his, stealing a hard kiss before Jamie pulled out.

  “I’m going to let you go. Don’t come.”

  Kyle nodded rapidly, nearly biting his tongue as Jamie slowly loosened his fingers, giving Kyle time to adjust. His cock throbbed hard, balls tight from being driven to the edge of orgasm and not allowed to fall over.

  “Please,” he begged, mouth more than a little dry. “Please, sir.”

  Jamie ignored him and stroked two fingers over his messy, wet hole. Kyle could feel a trickle of cum slipping out that Jamie gathered up in a single stroke before pushing it back inside him. Kyle arched his spine, panting hard as Jamie’s two fingers slipped all the way in to press hard against his prostate.

  The cry he let out was half a scream, half a wail as his cock jerked against his stomach, pre-cum turning the reddened tip shiny in the low light. It took every ounce of control he owned to keep from coming as Jamie massaged his prostate with cum-slick fingers.

  “You want to come?” Jamie asked, the pressure of his fingers driving Kyle out of his mind.

  “Yes!” Kyle groaned frantically, trying to shift away from the punishing touch.

  Jamie splayed his other hand across Kyle’s stomach, ignoring his cock, and pushed him back down against the bed. The shift in angle cause Jamie’s fingers to skitter away from his prostate, and Kyle let out a shuddering breath. The respite lasted only a second before that excruciating pressure returned. The next sound out of Kyle was a sob as Jamie rubbed his fingers over that hot bundle of nerves that seemed to have a direct line to his cock.

  “Please, please,” he begged. “Sir, please!”

  Jamie crooked his fingers, the pressure hard and unbearable as Kyle’s painfully hard cock dribbled out more pre-cum. He opened his mouth to protest, but couldn’t find the words as his entire body tensed around Jamie’s fingers. Jamie’s thumb settled on the sensitive skin behind his balls, sliding down until he found the faint outline of his prostate on the outside. Kyle shook his head from side to side as Jamie pressed his thumb hard against it, squeezing the pleasure-pain right out of him.

  “Come for me.”

  Kyle barely heard the order as his orgasm rushed through him. He came untouched, cum streaking across his chest as he came hard enough that his ears rang from the rush of blood to his head. He shuddered through it, collapsing against the bed in a limp sprawl, Jamie’s fingers still filling his hole, but no longer tormenting him. He barely felt it when Jamie pulled them free, drifting through the quick cleanup before finding himself tucked under the covers and wrapped up in Jamie’s arms. His eyes fluttered, but before he could open them all the way, Jamie kissed them closed.

  “You did so good, baby,” Jamie murmured. “I’m so proud of you. Right now, just sleep.”

  Kyle drifted off with a sigh and a softly whispered, “Love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Jamie looked away from the television and the news stream reporting about the latest polling reports for the Republican presidential nomination race as Kyle swore from his spot in the kitchen.

  “What’s wrong?” Jamie asked.

  “We’re out of coffee.”

  “I thought we had some delivered before I went to visit my family?”

  “We did, but I took it with me to the apartment to share with Lyosha.” Kyle shoved the ceramic coffee container away and opted to dig through the refrigerator instead. “Beer it is.”

  “Grab me one, will you?”

  Kyle came back into the front area of the open-plan condo a few moments later, flopping down on the couch next to Jamie. He handed Jamie an open bottle of beer before crossing his legs on the cushion. Kyle could contort his body into uncomfortable-looking positions that never bothered him. Years spent as a sniper meant the only thing he ever worried about on a mission was his target, not his own comfort. It made their love life interesting, which Jamie would never complain about.

  “Your dad’s poll numbers are up,” Kyle said, eyes glued to the numbers flashing across the chyron running beneath the evening news.

  They’d slept for half the day after their round of early-morning sex, but it wouldn’t affect their sleep schedule. Both of them had long ago mastered the knack of falling asleep whenever and wherever possible.

  “Yeah,” Jamie agreed, not bothering to keep the frustration out of his voice. He was home, spending time with the man he loved, not surrounded by the public with prying cameras and even more prying eyes. Jamie didn’t need to hide his true feelings from Kyle.

  “You don’t sound too happy about that.”

  Jamie nodded at the television where footage taken from his father’s latest campaign rally three days ago was being played. “He’s leading in the polls and I should be happy about that, but all I can think about is how stressful my life is going to be if he wins the presidency.”

  “The odds
favor him. I mean, the vice president is polling in fourth place, and that’s with the tepid support of the president,” Kyle pointed out. “Your dad might be a billionaire, but he’s been a politician for years and Majority Leader of the Senate for a while now. That’s a better background for winning the presidency than a divisive former governor. Your dad has the inside track.”

  “That doesn’t guarantee a win.”

  “If you’re holding out hope the Democrat or Independent candidates will beat your father, I have news for you. It ain’t gonna happen. They don’t have the money reach.” Kyle took a sip of his beer, not taking his eyes off the television. “You made any decision on what you’re going to do if he wins?”

  “I’m not leaving the MDF or the team,” Jamie immediately said.

  Kyle nudged Jamie in the side with his elbow. “We don’t want you to, but all the digging into your background will get worse.”

  Jamie tipped his head back and sighed. “I know.”

  The situation was only getting more complicated. Ever since the start of the Pavluhkin mission back in January, Jamie’s background had become a murky mess to satisfy too many different parties. For the Pavluhkins, he’d been dismissed from the Marines almost three years ago, but for the media, he was still active duty, currently on a long leave to help out with his father’s campaign. The conflicting stories were held together by the thinnest of explanations—that Richard Callahan’s political reach and money could buy Jamie’s way out of trouble.

  It rankled, though, that his career and reputation were being dragged through the mud. For all that Jamie was dedicated to his service to the country, he was getting tired of shouldering a lie that turned him into something he wasn’t. It wore on him, and the campaign wasn’t making it any easier.

  “I’m not giving up my team, no matter what my father wants,” Jamie said after a moment. He took Kyle’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m not giving you up, in case you were worried about that.”

  Kyle shook his head. “I’m not.”

  Jamie liked to think Kyle was telling the truth. They both knew where they stood in this relationship built upon a need for secrecy so they could stay together. Kyle’s family knew they were together, but only Jamie’s younger sister, Leah, was privy to the fact that he was in a serious long-term relationship.

  As much as Jamie wanted to tell his parents about Kyle, doing so would cause a separation between them Jamie knew he wouldn’t like. Ever since the mission in Tripoli, Libya, that had killed off most of his old platoon and turned him into a metahuman, Jamie had a difficult time trusting his team to the care of anyone else. When it came to Kyle, Jamie didn’t trust anyone outside the team with his lover’s life.

  It was a form of PTSD that years of therapy still hadn’t managed to break down and bury completely. Jamie knew he would always have nightmares about losing his people in Tripoli, but the thought of not having Kyle fighting by his side was a particular kind of horror he would never be ready to face. He knew it was one which would come to pass in some way if he ever informed his parents that he was in love with Kyle.

  If his father won the presidency, there was no way Jamie or Kyle could escape that spotlight for long. It would be even worse if Jamie put action to the idea floating through his mind that had grown stronger over the past few months of making what they had together a permanent thing. The logistics would be headache-inducing, but that hadn’t stopped Jamie from discreetly enlisting the services of a top-tier Manhattan-based jeweler at the end of summer.

  The designer zealously guarded his clientele’s privacy, meeting after hours around Jamie’s insane schedule to accommodate his needs. Jamie had been more than satisfied with the final product when it was finally delivered to him before he gave it to Katie for safekeeping. Hiding something from Kyle’s sharp eyes was difficult, but Jamie was determined to succeed at this personal mission.

  Jamie knew he and Kyle had promised no secrets between them, but this was one Jamie was holding close to his chest until he found the right moment to ask the most important question of his life.

  The sharp chime in his ears of his comms going off with an incoming call drew Jamie out of his thoughts. He glanced at the bioware embedded beneath the skin of his left forearm, frowning at the long string of numbers that shined through his skin.

  “Shit,” Kyle muttered.

  His military-grade bioware could only warn him the call was encrypted, but wouldn’t be able to trace the source. Only one person went through all that trouble to reach him these days.

  Jamie answered the call, double-checking to be sure his bioware was recording it. “Callahan.”

  “Ah, Jamie. It’s been a while,” Stanislav Pavluhkin said.

  Not long enough, Jamie grimly thought. “Stanislav. What do you want?”

  He sincerely hoped it wasn’t another job request.

  The team had done multiple jobs over the past year for the oligarch’s son through the guise of Root Source, Inc., the cybersecurity company the MDF had created to shore up the mission. Those jobs were usually orchestrated through Nikolaas Jansen. The black-market facilitator and metahuman was Stanislav’s connection to the rich the world over. Out of everyone, only Jamie and Kyle had ever met Stanislav face-to-face. The Pavluhkins kept their hands clean by making their targets take the fall. Since nothing could be traced back to them or the Presnenskaya Bratva, they stayed out of reach of the authorities.

  The MDF was trying to change that.

  Ever since June and the revelation that the double agent in the CIA was most likely CIA Deputy Director Carter Bennett—a man who knew the identities of several Alpha Team members, possibly more—the MDF had been cautious in how they proceeded with the Pavluhkins. Declan Wolcott was still at large, and the ex-Army Ranger was privy to classified information regarding Kyle, Alexei, and Sean’s identities. If Bennett was in contact with Declan, then the MDF couldn’t overlook the possibility that Stanislav knew who and what they were by way of more traditional channels.

  But they were still playing the long game because Stanislav had yet to show his hand and prove he knew their true identities. Trying to outplay a precog was stressful.

  “Am I interrupting?” Stanislav asked, sounding very much like he didn’t care if he was. The oligarch’s son was fluent in English, but his Russian accent was laced through every word he spoke.

  “I’m with Kyle,” Jamie replied, projecting irritation into his voice that wasn’t difficult to feign. “Can we make this quick?”

  Stanislav laughed. “I notice your pet is never with you on the campaign trail. Do you keep him waiting for you back in the hotel rooms?”

  Jamie tried not to grind his teeth. “Something like that. What do you want, Stanislav?”

  Very few people could get away with addressing Stanislav as he did, but Jamie was one of those few, based solely on his family’s wealth and social status. The Pavluhkins, like many Russian oligarch families, counted power through who you knew as much as the numbers in a person’s bank account. Jamie’s family was one of the wealthiest in the world, with political power and private clout that opened a lot of doors the Pavluhkins were interested in. Jamie wasn’t above rubbing Stanislav’s face in his lower-status when compared to Jamie’s.

  “We require a meeting with you and Ekaterina,” Stanislav said after a moment’s pause.

  The use of we sent alarm bells ringing through Jamie’s head, and he immediately pushed back against the request. “My schedule is full. My father’s campaign requires my presence and Thanksgiving is at the end of the month.”

  “And my father is demanding an in-face meeting with you in Moscow. It would be unwise to decline.”

  Yakov Pavluhkin, the titular head of the Presnenskaya Bratva, was a fifth-generation oligarch whose main wealth came from state-backed space mining contracts. The Pavluhkins owned Solntse Dobyvayushchaya Kompiniya, but their real power came from their connection to the Kremlin. It was that fact which made Jamie pause
and not immediately commit just for the sake of the mission.

  “You realize if I fly to Moscow and am seen meeting with you and your father, that will reflect terribly on my father?” Jamie said slowly. “He’s running for president, and judging by his poll numbers, he has a strong chance of winning. Being seen as cozy with Russians has never played well in our media.”

  “You’re already doing business with us Russians. That’s not something you can hide forever.”

  The implicit threat that Stanislav would use the kompromat he’d accrued on Jamie and his teammates to blackmail them into following his orders filled the silence of the line. Jamie scowled up at the ceiling, hoping the hole he was about to dig for himself, his team, and his family wasn’t deep enough to double as a grave.

  “Moscow is not on the table. Pick a different city and preferably a different country.”

  “My father chose Moscow.”

  “And I’m giving you the choice of a meeting in a different city or no meeting at all. I’m aware you think you can make my life miserable if I don’t agree to every request you make, but this is a two-way street, Stanislav. I’m not some naïve trust-fund kid you can browbeat into submission. You want this partnership to work? There need to be some compromises.”

  The silence this time felt icy to Jamie, but he didn’t break it, merely waited Stanislav out with the patience of a sniper.

  “Paris,” Stanislav finally bit out. “Tomorrow night. I’ll inform you of the location in the morning.”

  Stanislav cut the call, and Jamie exhaled heavily. Kyle shifted on the couch and turned to face him, worry in his green eyes. “Sounds like we don’t get our three days off.”

  Jamie grabbed Kyle’s hand and pressed an apologetic kiss over his knuckles. “I’ll make it up to you.”