Devin’s hand dropped to the back of Joe’s head again, but this time it held him down, forced him deeper as Devin’s hips snapped up.
The plan had been for this to be a warm-up before the main event, but the way Devin’s legs shook, the quick thrust-thrust of his hips as he gorged himself on Joe’s mouth, made Joe want to finish this way. He pawed at himself and gasped for breath when Devin pulled back before plunging in again.
Devin’s hips lost their rhythm, and he shouted. The quick pulse of his release surged over Joe’s tongue and down his throat.
Joe moaned around him and used his lips and tongue to coax everything out. When the pulsing stopped and the lap of his tongue had Devin pushing him away instead of pulling him closer, Joe let go and sat up. His throat ached, but it was the good kind of pain.
“You fucking killed me, baby.” Devin’s arm was thrown over his face. His chest heaved and sweat dripped from his body.
“‘Baby’?”
“Shut up. You sucked my brain out my dick.” Devin’s lips quirked in a tiny smile, but he didn’t remove his arm from his face. “Damn it. Did you come?”
“No, but don’t get up.” Joe spread his hands over Devin’s torso. “You look so beautiful all spent and laid out like that. I know lots of ways to finish.”
Devin shifted his legs wider, but his sweet smile dipped into a frown. “Do you want to...”
Understanding dawned slowly for Joe, but when it did, he pressed Devin’s thighs closer together. “No.”
Devin dragged his arm away from his face and lifted his head. “You don’t want to?”
“I do. God, I do.” Joe kissed Devin’s hip, his chest, his cheek. “I want that so much. But I want us to talk about it first, sometime when you’re not feeling pressured because you got off and I didn’t and you feel like maybe you should offer it up to even things out.”
“Come here.”
Joe grabbed the lube from where it had fallen, digging into his knee, and stretched out on top of Devin, whose arms closed around him in almost the same way they’d started their lovemaking. Joe rested his head on Devin’s chest, slicked his own penis, and humped gently against the crease of Devin’s thigh. He came that way, his orgasm rumbling through him like soft thunder in a steady rain, Devin’s hands stroking his back.
Joe shuddered when it was over, and Devin dropped soft kisses and sweet whispers into his hair.
They’d needed this. Worries about what was coming would crowd their way back in soon enough, but for now, Joe couldn’t muster the energy to care.
NINE
Joe stepped outside in the waxy morning sunshine and waited for Navarro. One of the chickens ambled up and pecked at his ankle.
“Ouch. Stop that.”
The chicken ignored him and tried to eat his shoe.
Joe grimaced. He didn’t know what to do with animals. All he wanted was to get moving, check out the town, the wall, and find out if this place would be safe enough for them to stay while Marcus recuperated.
A hail of corn kernels flew through the air from behind him, and the chicken tore off after them, squawking and clucking. Its companion, the smarter chicken, moved twice as fast, gobbling up as much food as it could get.
Joe looked over his shoulder. “Your birds are stupid.”
Navarro ignored him and stomped off the porch toward the town. Joe sighed and followed.
When he caught up, Navarro chuckled. “City boy.”
“You’re a city boy, too, Navarro.”
“My Uncle Ernesto had a farm about twenty miles east of Austin. Mami would send me out there every summer when I was little. Loved the animals.” Navarro waved at a woman who passed. “Probably should have tried to be a vet instead of a doctor.”
“When we’re done with your rounds, will you take me to the wall?”
After he and Devin’d had sex, Joe had barely dozed off again before Navarro poked his head into the bedroom and told him to get his ass up. Navarro wanted to check on his homebound patients, and because Liliana had mayor business to attend to, he needed an assistant. Joe rolled out of bed, drank the dregs from Navarro’s coffee mug, and laced his shoes. He had wanted to help, but he had also wanted answers.
“Later,” Navarro said. “The clinic opens right after rounds.”
“Then at least tell me about it right now. Do you know how to get in?”
“You walk. Not now.” Navarro gestured to the huts in the sad little town. “Thin walls. Nosy-ass ears.”
“Come on, Navarro, I’ve waited —”
“Wait longer.” Navarro veered right, down a small side walkway. The houses, if you could call them that, were set about five feet apart. A few people milled about, and most waved at Navarro but maintained their distance.
“They think you have barracooties?”
Navarro smirked. “Something like that. They figure I’m around sick people, I must have germs, too. Plus, I’m not popular with the Sons, and people want to stay on their good side.”
“Bullies.”
“If someone carries a big enough stick, people tend to fall in line. Left here.”
“Except you.”
“Except me.”
What had Navarro done to get on the wrong side of the Sons? Joe doubted he’d get a straight answer while they were out in the town, not if Navarro wouldn’t even talk about something as impersonal as the wall.
“See the house with the blue paint? That’s our first call. Mrs. Fonta. Nothing too major. She hasn’t had a DFI in a while. Forgot, went outside during the day, and got blistered pretty badly. A little ointment and we’re on our way.”
That reminded Joe. “So these people have access to DFIs? Where does it come from?”
“The Sons. Are you current on your injections? I need to check all of you over, I suppose.”
Joe caught the change in subject, but he decided not to press. “Peter just
