Page 10 of Devil and the Deep Blue Fish

Ellery groaned in welcome, even to the bite of pain, because tonight that was what he needed. A nip of darkness, a hard, heedless thrust. Jackson grunted as he seated himself completely and then bent to whisper in Ellery’s ear.

“Good?”

“So good,” Ellery whispered, loving that Jackson wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t good.

Needing him to do it.

“Now?” Jackson murmured, pulling back a little and thrusting forward.

“Now,” Ellery urged, and Jackson snapped his hips forward, growling aggressively as he did.

Ellery cried out, needing, shameless, and vocal. “Yes—fuck me! Hard! So hard! Oh God, Jackson—yes!”

And then he lost his words as Jackson’s body, feral, vital, hard, and hungry, battered at his in a frenzy, the two of them lostin the ecstasy of fucking, the haze of absolute lust mixed with a hint of tenderness, the comfort of desire.

Ellery’s climax rushed up at him almost too soon, but he couldn’t stop it. He keened, locking his heels over Jackson’s ass, his own asshole bearing down as he came, shooting come between them. Jackson’s roar of completion echoed in his ears. Ellery could feel the hot and thick of him, the scalding pump of come, and it twisted the last shudder of orgasm from the pit of his balls.

It was too much! It was too much! It wasn’t enough, and it never would be, and he found himself sobbing for more, for less, to stop, to come, to never, ever cease—

The final wave washed through him, and he gasped, his asshole, his chamber, his groin, all of it blooming, blossoming in the final spasm of a hard, frantic climax before Jackson sank into his body and groaned in his own total surrender.

Oh God.

Ellery was breathing so hard the roar of his own heartbeat echoed in his ears, and he almost missed Jackson’s helpless murmur.

“Every time,” he breathed. “I want you this badlyeverytime.”

“Me too,” Ellery panted. “Every time.”

Jackson’s breathy chuckle sustained him as they gulped in air, tried to regain their breath after having all their oxygen sucked from their bodies in a tide of desire.

Finally Jackson slid to the side, and Ellery thought he could hear his own thoughts again over his heartbeat and a buzzing sound that kept pounding insistently against his brain.

“Oh shit,” Jackson muttered, reaching for the phone that was vibrating in the charger.

“You’re talking to Henry afterthat?” Ellery protested, not sure if Jackson hadeverput texting over sex before.

“I gave him an emergency code if he needed me,” Jackson muttered, scrambling into a sitting position. “This sounds pretty damned urgent.”

He paused for a moment, hair disheveled, magnificent body naked and flushed in the moonlight seeping in over the blinds.

“Oh fuck,” Jackson muttered, and Ellery stared at him in alarm.

“What?”

“Ohfuck!” Jackson tumbled out of bed and started throwing on the clothes he’d been wearing before getting in. “Ellery, call the cops. Send them to Isabelle’s apartment.” Jackson rattled off the number as he hit Call. “I’m coming, Henry! I’m coming!”

“Find them!” Henry cried, voice tinny and hollow through the phone. Then to somebody else, “Go! Go! Go!”

“Henry, I’m on my way!” Jackson was shoving his feet into still-laced tennis shoes without benefit of socks.

Ellery had grabbed his own phone from the charger and was responding to the panic in Jackson’s voice, in Henry’s, and he hit 911 as he grabbed for the clothes he’d left on top of his dresser.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” the calm voice asked on the other end of his phone line.

Just as gunshots echoed from Jackson’s phone on speaker and into the sex-saturated dark of their once-safe bedroom.

There came the sound of something hitting flesh and Henry’s scream of, “Die, bitch,die!” And then three more shots, and Ellery was screaming the address into his telephone as he and Jackson went sprinting for the car in the garage.

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