She’d been poised on the edge of sleep again when a tap on the door sounded. She groaned. “Go away, Xander.” The tap sounded again.
She was getting pissed off. She needed some time to recoup. A silent rage triggered inside Jordan’s head as she sprung to her feet and stormed to the door. She knew she was losing it. She shouldn’t be ready to rip him to shreds just for knocking on her door. Unlocking and pulling it open, she yelled, “Dammit–”
But when she caught sight of the person standing on the other side of the threshold, the tirade she’d been ready to rain down on Xander disappeared.
She gasped. “Patrick.”
4
Shane ignored the tone that sounded from his earbud, signaling an incoming com. His hands were busy pushing Trent’s face into the mattress while savagely thrusting his cock into the man’s exquisitely tight ass.
He took in the view of the sweaty male form laid out before him. It was his to rule, use and discipline as he wished. Trent was his conquest for the evening. He was physically larger than Shane, but submitted so nicely.
Shane ran his hand over the reserve of lube puddled just above the crack of Trent’s ass. Then, lowered himself so his body covered him. His nipples slipped over the sweaty skin of the man beneath him with every brutal thrust Shane delivered. He reached around and grabbed the man’s bobbing cock. It fit heavy and diamond hard in his fist. Trent’s soft groan of protest drifted through the sweaty air.
“You’ll hold it until I say, or you will be disciplined again,” Shane growled, pumping his hips and fist in unison.
He knew Trent was trying hard to hold back that impending explosion of ecstasy, hoping to please Shane. Hoping Shane would consider taking him on, even though he’d been straight with Trent from the beginning, cautioning him he would never take a male as his own.
Shane wasn’t gay, but sometimes he was forced to take satisfaction where he could get it, and sometimes the only way he could get it was with a man. He didn’t mind as long as it didn’t happen too often. Truth was, he got a bigger high from dominating a man, but he wasn’t sexually excited by them. With a man under him, it was all about the dominance, power exchange and control. When he found the right person, it would be about both, domination and sexual gratification. Plus, he didn’t think he’d ever feel the compulsion to take care of a man like he would a woman. But it was sweet of Trent to try anyway.
“Please,” Trent cried, seeking permission to come while so near orgasm.
He was rigid with the effort to hold back the bursts of relief. Shane delivered another brutal twist of the wide cock head at the apex of his stroke and Trent’s back curled upward, like a cat. Then, crying out, he thrust hard and fast within the tunnel of Shane’s fist. Cum spurted and rolled, warm on the outside of his hand while Trent rode his orgasm to the very end, shooting cum onto the clean, white sheets. And when he was completely done shooting his load without permission, Shane covered Trent’s mouth with his cum-slicked hand.
“Bad.”
He thrust hard and Trent whimpered.
“Boy.”
He thrust again and came in Trent’s ass. “Fuck yeah,” he spat with a wild, uncontrolled series of pumps that continued his orgasm, coating Trent with his cum, both inside and out.
Shane stayed with Trent only as long as he needed to before he made a beeline for the door. When he reached the courtyard, he knew something wasn’t right. Crowds of people milled about, yelling and crying. He stilled, taking in the commotion, and then remembered the com he received earlier. He tapped his earbud. “Play.”
“Hey, bro. I need a favor…”
* * * *
Jordan’s jaw dropped open a second before she lunged forward and pulled Patrick over the threshold into her apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. Her knee-jerk reaction to protect him from being seen outside her door was significant. Apparently, her subconscious had already made its decision whether Patrick was dangerous or not.
She turned and eyed him by the light spilling from the bathroom and attempted to clarify her confusion.
“No. Not Patrick,” she said. “Who are you?”
The man smiled at her. “Shane O’Connor. The older and more handsome version of Patrick.”
She couldn’t prevent her lips from quirking up at his remark. “Also the slightly skinnier version.”
“Ah, yes. I miss my ma’s cookin’.”
“Twins?”
He nodded, smiled and then gave her an obvious once-over. “Patrick was right. You’re very pretty.”
She looked at the floor, not sure how to respond to his compliment. In her life, compliments were few and far between, and when one was given, it was usually related to work, not the way she looked.
Realizing she stood there wearing only a towel, she walked to her dresser and pulled out a nightshirt.
“Now don’t be getting dressed on my account,” he said with a more serious tone than she’d ever heard Patrick use, even when they were in danger.
“Ah, and there it is, that O’Connor humor. It must run in the family.” She noticed his Amber designation tattoo and the slightly more aged patina his face presented compared to his identical twin. “Why are you here, Shane?” she asked softly, assuming he was there at Patrick’s request, but not knowing exactly why he stood in her apartment in the middle of the night.
“Patrick commed me. His message was cryptic, but I got the gist. Your roommate was killed?”
Jordan nodded and looked away from him, not wanting to reveal weakness. It was an automatic behavior more than an indication that she didn’t trust Shane.
“Patrick wanted me to stay with you and make sure you’re okay.” He shrugged. “He didn’t want you to be alone.”
Jordan sighed, then nodded. “Thanks. I was settling in for the night.” She motioned toward the far side of the bed. “You can sleep on that side if you want to join me.”
As she climbed under the covers, she didn’t care whether Shane was friend or foe. She was too tired.
Shane sidled over to Dennis’s side of the room and removed his shoes.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do about that brother of yours,” she murmured into the shadows created by the wedge of light escaping through the partially closed bathroom door.
“Can you fill me in on exactly what’s going on? Like I said, our communications are kind of cryptic.”
Jordan lay on her back, looking at the ceiling. She didn’t know where to look while he got ready for bed. God, already she missed Dennis with a desperate urgency that scared her. With him, awkwardness about that kind of stuff vanished years ago. The two of them were comfortable with each other. He was the only person in the world she ever experienced that odd sensation of comfort with. Jordan’s throat tightened and she swallowed hard to push down the fear that was already returning.
The bed dipped as Shane slid in beside her. He reached out and clasped her hand in his.
Her breath caught and her heart squeezed. He couldn’t possibly fathom how grateful she was for that tiny span of his skin touching hers.
“Okay. Enlighten me on my brother’s escapades.” His voice was rough and his words didn’t echo that almost nonexistent accent of Patrick’s musically lilting speech and ever so slightly rolled pronunciation of the letter r.
“I’ll