STORY EXCERPT

Stryver leaned against the broad trunk, waiting with waning patience. Blue had been fine until the rain. He had melted with the first drops, shivering and gasping until Stryver helped him move under the protection of the oak.

He frowned at Blue where he huddled among the roots’ knobs at the base of the trunk. His knees were drawn up against his chest, his thin arms wrapped around them.

Rain never hurt anyone. Why him? Stryver couldn’t figure it out.

Everything about the holy man confused him—in particular, the reason why someone wanted him dead. He didn’t appear to be a threat to anyone, yet from what Aidal said and what Stryver had witnessed in the cathedral, his life was in imminent danger.

Shaking his head, Stryver dug a cloth-covered bundle from his supply bag. He unrolled half a loaf of bread and a small wedge of cheese. He squatted next to Blue, his own back pressed against the bark. He stared at the holy man, his hand frozen in the act of offering him a share of the bread.

Head lowered, gaze caught on something next to him, Blue held one finger out. A small, black ant crawled onto the tip. He lifted his hand, his gaze centered on the ant.

Uncomfortable with the intensity of Blue’s survey of the insect, Stryver released a low laugh. “You act like you’ve never seen an ant.”

Blue’s gaze stayed riveted on the tiny creature as he murmured, “That is its name?”

Confused even more by the strange question, Stryver shook his head. “Yes. You’ve never seen one?”

“No. It’s different from us. So fragile.”

Disbelief replaced his confusion. “There had to be ants at the monastery.”

“No. Only the monks and myself. No other creatures were ever allowed to enter.”

Stryver looked at the ant. What sort of problems could an ant cause? “Why?”

“No distraction, nothing to influence or interrupt my growth. No threats to my development.”

Amazed at the calm, accepting manner with which Blue repeated this simple mantra, Stryver asked, needing an answer, anything to clear the muddle in his mind, “What is your ability?”

This question brought the azure gaze over to meet his. The gentle patter of the rain striking the dirt road and leaves surrounded them, enfolding them in a secluded place. For the space of a breath, Stryver forgot to look away. Then he blinked, focusing on the ant again, making sure not to stare into the innocent orbs studying him.

“I was instructed not to tell anyone.”

“You can’t tell me your name. Now, it’s your true power. Why the secrets? The last Godchild’s name was proclaimed across the land. People rejoiced in his abilities.”

The finger lowered to the ground. The ant hurried away to resume its work. Blue spoke low, and Stryver had to lean closer to hear. “Some things are best not known.”

Unease rippled along Stryver’s back. So there were reasons why the assassins tried to kill him. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“No.”

“Even if it means life or death for both of us?”

Fresh, crisp, rain-washed air breezed over Stryver’s face with the gentle shake of Blue’s head.

The answer struck Stryver full force. So the odds for this mission to fail had increased. His mortality loomed in front of him. All because of one small, quiet man. Compassion for him and unease for what the future held washed over Stryver.

When he broke the quiet, his words came out low and gruff. “Here. Eat. You have to keep your strength up.”

Blue’s slender fingers broke off a small hunk of bread. Stryver pulled the cheese apart and gave him the larger half.

As he chewed in the peaceful rain, he tried to find a way to discover the truth about the Godchild. His life depended on knowing it.

ADULT EXCERPT

“Lie down. I’ll wash you,” he told Stryver. A knot formed at the base of his throat, and his blood pounded in his veins with the offer. What would his lover think? Too forward? Below his level as Godchild? Would Stryver reject him again? He wasn’t sure. He’d grown so much in every aspect of his life during the short amount of time with Stryver. This man, once a stranger but no longer, had shown Blue a bright, new world. Now, all he wanted was to run his hands over Stryver’s smooth skin, but he refused to go any further than bathing him.

Too many times in this life, Blue’s wishes had been set aside, considered not good for his growth. Disappointment was normal. He never wanted to experience that bitter taste again.

Stryver stopped at the edge of the bed. With a shake of his head, he said, “No.” Another shake sent his hair sliding over his brow.

Blue froze. This new refusal lashed out at him, and he bled invisible drops, glistening red, straight from his heart.

Careful, he shifted and asked, “No, what?” He moved to where a bucket had been left along the wall at the edge of the bracketed bed, clasping his hands together so as not to reveal his trembling.

Stryver faced him. “Let me bathe you.”

Blue shied away from the hand he’d lifted.

Heart pounding, breaths growing harder to pull in and out, Blue clenched his hands harder. Once sure he could control his voice, he lifted his gaze and met Stryver’s. Did he not realize how much he meant to him? “I want to do this. Have to. You didn’t let me touch you last night. I have—”

Stryver grabbed his shoulders and jerked him against his chest. His lips found Blue’s. Without thinking, Blue opened his mouth to the larger man’s tongue, allowing him to pillage inside. Blue tangled his fingers into Stryver’s vest and held on while his world tilted.

They broke apart. His chest hurt from trying to drag in enough air. “Wait.”

Tilting his head, Stryver dipped close to his lips again.

Blue pressed his palms to the hard wall of his chest. “Wait. It’s my turn now.”

Chuckles vibrated under his hands. Heated air coasted over his cheek. Stryver’s hold grew tighter. Obviously, Stryver had decided not to pay attention. Blue twisted under his arm, pulling it across the front of his body, and flipped the larger man over his shoulder. Stryver landed with a thump in the middle of the cot.

Blue wasn’t sure who was more surprised—he or Stryver.

Slow, sexily, a half smile tugged up the corners of his lover’s mouth.

Blue’s heart melted. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. Where did that come from?”

“I told you. It’s my turn to touch you.”

Stretching out, Stryver clasped his hands behind his head. “Be my guest.”

Slowly, carefully, Blue crawled onto the cot and straddled his hips. With one finger, he traced a trail down the center of Stryver’s chest, ending at his belly button. His tanned skin tempted Blue with an unending need to run his hands over him. He glanced up and met his observant, hot gaze. The smile on his lips had relaxed a bit.

Blue followed the rim of his belly button around, once, twice. He watched the movement. Below Blue, Stryver hardened against his own erection. Blue’s breath caught, and he had difficulty concentrating. Laying his palms flat, he slid them along Stryver’s sides.

Stryver twitched. Blue shifted farther, and the larger man burst out laughing, twisting to one side.

“Sorry. Tickles,” his lover choked out.

Surprised, Blue leaned over him. “Tickles? You, the strong and mighty warrior? Ticklish?”

He’d tell him later how sorry he was, but the enticing chance to enjoy this moment overcame all other thought. Blue curled his fingertips into Stryver’s sides.

The larger man jerked, his body rising off the cot in an attempt to escape. He reached to grab Blue’s hands, but Blue moved faster.

Laughter exploded out of Stryver. Between gasps of air, he begged, “Stop. Enough.”

Blue’s own laugh echoed his. His heart sang with joy. He shook his head. “No.”

They struggled on the cot in a mock battle, each trying to overcome the other with playful touches. The ropes holding the mattress in the wooden frame groaned under them. After several minutes, Stryver pinned Blue on his right side, his hands gripped between both of his and held above his head. Panting, Blue tugged one more time, but not seriously trying to escape. The ship rode a wave and came down, giving him the sense of floating in Stryver’s arms with nothing to anchor them to the world. Silently, he wished this would never end.

Husky, low, Stryver spoke against the side of his head. “Benevolence, Blue.” Warm breath glided over his ear, sending tingles down his neck.

Eyes half opened, Blue stared at the line of his neck. “For you? There are others who need mercy more.”

“But they’re not your lover.”

Blue grinned against Stryver’s throat. His whiskers scratched at Blue’s lips. The tiny pricks added to the sweet vibrations drumming in his lower body. “No. Very well. Mercy.”

Stryver dipped his mouth and covered his, releasing his wrists to grasp the sides of his head. Blue opened under his assault. Strong, lean fingers massaged his scalp. Warm, delicious sensations spiraled through him. Stryver’s erection prodded his belly.

Remembered pleasure from last night added to the new promise of ecstasy flowing in him. Blue slipped his hand between them and into the front of his lover’s waistband. Stryver trembled under his touch. The larger man threw his head back as he pulled air between his clenched teeth.

Stryver managed to mutter. “Not fair. You’re…uhn…cheating.”

Wrapping his fingers around his hard length, Blue shifted closer and pressed his mouth against the pulse in his neck. “Yes, fair. You did the same to me last night.”

He applied pressure. Stryver released a groan.

“Move like this.” His lover unlaced his pants and set his hand over the back of Blue’s hand, teaching him the rhythm.

Stryver’s breathing rumbled in his chest with each stroke. Blue matched the movements with thrusts from his groin, riding Stryver’s side.

“Where the hell is the coconut oil?”

A gasping laugh escaped Blue. “By your head, on the floor.”

“Don’t stop,” he muttered between his clenched teeth. He lowered one arm behind him onto the floor. “Damn, where the fuck is it?”

“Turn,” Blue managed to say between quick nips on his neck.

Stryver rolled onto his back with Blue half over him. “Got it.”

Blue missed a stroke.

He moaned. “Keep moving.”

The cork flew across the room. Gurgles came from the shell. His hands, hot and slick, eased under Blue’s pants, slipping them lower.

Blue wiggled. The material ripped. Stryver muttered an apology. Blue choked, lost between the hilarity of the situation and his need to have Stryver inside him.

Humor faded with the first swipe of his lover’s hand on the back of his thighs. His breath caught in his throat. The scent of coconut rose from his movements. Strong fingers rubbed and stroked over his butt, sliding into the crease and inside him. Warmth spiraled out of control between his legs with the increased pressure. Blue’s body opened for Stryver’s incredible touch. His pants slid off under his lover’s skilled hand.

Stryver grasped Blue’s hips and pulled him astride his body. Aiding his lover, Blue helped guide him to his entrance. Unhurried, careful, Stryver eased inside him.