Devlin made eye contact again, and he slid his hand down Garrick’s back to his ass. That glint of steel came back to his gaze. “I might not know a whole lot for sure right now, but I fucking know what it feels like to be inside you.” He jerked Garrick to him, and his fingers dug into the crease of Garrick’s jeans, right over his pucker. “And you damned well know it too.”
Pressure from Devlin’s touch scraped a shocking wave of concentrated pleasure against Garrick’s asshole, and he gasped as his passage sucked in with a powerful spasm. The man dug his fingers into Garrick’s crack through his clothes again, and Garrick shot to full life, right there in the hallway, against Devlin’s stomach.
Devlin grinned like a man who understood his power. “That’s right.” He grabbed Garrick’s hand and shoved it between their bodies, forcing it over Devlin’s equally rigid cock.
Memories of Devlin’s shape and physical triggers were embedded in Garrick’s hand. His fingers automatically curled around Devlin’s shaft to the root and then moved under and tugged on his nuts. Devlin moaned the second Garrick touched him, and he jerked with the first handling of his balls.
Devlin lifted his head, made eye contact again, and seared them into one being with just a look. “I remember,” Devlin said. He moved in until their lips were mere centimeters apart, and he whispered roughly, “And you do too.”
Garrick opened his mouth, unsure what to say, and with a damning curse, Devlin claimed it with a taking, violent kiss. He slashed his lips across Garrick’s and sank his tongue inside, owning Garrick in a dominating manner that had Garrick pushing open wider and keening for more. Devlin groaned and swept deeper, tangling his tongue around Garrick’s. He sucked it into his mouth, and Garrick immediately thrust back and drank deeply, needing a piece of Devlin too.
Devlin bit Garrick’s tongue and lips, and he fought for control of the kiss with a power he hadn’t possessed in San Francisco. Garrick cried inside for more of this new Devlin, even as he panicked and pushed back with aggression of his own. Growling, Devlin kept one hand firmly on Garrick’s ass, holding him in place for a raw grinding of their bodies that matched the savagery he used to possess Garrick’s mouth. Devlin shoved his other hand into Garrick’s hair and yanked his head back and to the side, tearing their mouths apart.
Devlin’s breath came in sharp pants, and he held Garrick prisoner with the piercing, pale light in his eyes just as completely as he did with the hand he had plastered to Garrick’s ass. Devlin scraped their mouths together, made them both shiver, and swore gutturally, “Don’t you dare tell me you don’t know who I am. Don’t you dare claim that you don’t recognize the taste of my mouth, or know the shape and texture of every inch of my body.” He pushed his face into Garrick’s throat and inhaled deeply. “God knows I still remember yours.” He licked his way back up to Garrick’s mouth. “No matter what you look like now.”
Garrick had no voice, and no ability to think ahead to his best course of action. He could only feel this man against him right now, and plead in silence for forgiveness.
Devlin muttered, “Damn it, Denny,” and moved in again for another deep plundering.
The second their lips touched, the slam of a door reverberated again and ripped them apart.
Garrick glanced to the left, and Devlin did too. Wyn walked toward them, without pausing, until he stood right beside them. He shifted his attention between Garrick and Devlin, and said, “I suddenly couldn’t remember if I locked my car.”
Liar. He’s a cop, and he came out to check on his friend.
Couldn’t have been better timing for Garrick either. He put his full focus on the shiny tile floor, wiped his mouth, and tried not to notice how much his hand shook. “I-I,” he didn’t dare make eye contact with Devlin again, “I have to go.”
Before Devlin or Wyn could say a word, Garrick managed to choke out a quick “Goodbye,” and without looking up, made it to the stairwell door and pushed through it. As the door eased closed behind him, he heard Wyn say, “Is there something you want to tell me, Dev?”
Garrick picked up the pace and flew down the stairs to his truck.
He didn’t dare stick around to hear Devlin’s response.
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, Garrick let himself into his room and made a beeline for the closet. He yanked it open, grabbed his duffel bag, and pulled the handful of shirts and jeans on hangers off the rod. After throwing everything on the couch, he ripped open the top drawer of the small dresser that also served as a stand for the TV. With one sweep of his arms, he scooped up his underwear and socks and tossed them into his bag. One fast trip into the second drawer to grab his T-shirts, and Garrick started shoving as much as would fit into the duffel. For the little bit of clothing remaining, Garrick grabbed a couple of plastic grocery bags from the recycling, filled them, and tied off the handles.
As he went into the bathroom and gathered his toiletries, he wondered where in the hell he would run next, and if he could find another new name to answer to when he had just started to find his way as Garrick.
Whatever happened, this time he would have to figure it out completely on his own.
Garrick stumbled on his way out of the bathroom. His knees hit the floor, his gaze landed on his refrigerator door, and he froze. Right in his line of sight was a picture of Godzilla and a monster truck in a battle, something Shawn had drawn
