Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

Tad nodded. Scott was right.

Scott nodded, too. “So. What this means is you’re gonna have to hit them where it counts. Where we’re vulnerable.” He pointed to his nuts, then his throat, then his eyes. “All vital parts of the body, yeah?”

Tad grimaced a little. “Yeah. Not sure which is worst.”

“They’re all fucking horrible. Which is why they’re such prime targets. But you gotta be able to actually get to them before your attacker incapacitates you.” Scott assumed fight position. “Lemme show you some ways.”

Tad’s heart kicked up, readying to engage.

And engage is what they did for the next hour. By the time Scott let up, they were both flushed and sweating, and Tad could straight-up feel the gleam in his eyes. The gleam of empowerment and confidence and ferocity. But also the gleam of testosterone-laced aggression. Stirring his deep-seated primitive instincts as Scott came at him again and again. He hadn’t been gentle, either. Hadn’t gone easy on Tad at all.

It’d been invigorating, but also grueling. Exhilarating, yet sobering as fuck.

But it’d been Scott for every second of it. Scott grabbing him, holding him, restraining him. So, even though it wasn’t exactly appropriate, per se, for half the fucking session Tad had wood. It’d started out a little embarrassing, but fuck it, what could he do. Soon, however, it also proved entertaining. At least where Scott was concerned. God, the look on his face as he valiantly tried to ignore it. His growls when Tad’s cock brushed his body.

Tad bit back a snicker and toweled off his torso. They’d ditched their shirts barely twenty minutes in and had been wearing just their workout shorts ever since. Another aspect of Scott’s crash course that Tad had thoroughly enjoyed. Not just ogling, but getting physical with his man’s half-naked body. Bumping muscles and swapping sweat for sixty minutes.

Growl.

Sign him up for another session pronto.

Scott smirked and tossed Tad a water bottle. “I know that look.”

Tad grinned. “Do you now.”

“Uh huh. It matches your boner.”

Tad laughed, then shrugged and uncapped his water. “I refuse to be held accountable for the reactions you elicit.”

Scott chuckled, stepping closer. “Always redirecting the blame.”

“That’s right. Although, right now I’d rather redirect my dick.”

Scott laughed. “I have no doubt. Should we plot him a detour?”

“God, yes,” Tad rumbled. “I know this pervy little side-street. Hot Scott Alley, I think it’s called.”

Scott grinned and wrapped his big arms around Tad’s neck. “Hot Scott Alley, huh? Sounds seedy.”

“Oh, yeah. The seediest. Er, I mean, from what I’ve been told.”

Scott laughed again. “Never been there?”

“Nope. Was waiting to go with you.”

Scott dropped his arms and palmed Tad’s ass. “Damn, babe. So thoughtful.”

“I know, right? I’m the best.”

“Am I driving?”

“Fuck, no.”

“Why not?” Scott chuckled. “You love my driving.”

Tad nodded once. “I do. I absolutely do. But you’ve been pushing me around for the last freaking hour, so now I’m kinda wanting to push back.”

Scott lifted a brow. “Hmm. That does sound hot.”

Tad’s gaze hooded. He nodded again. “Yup. So I’m driving.”

Scott’s browns dropped to Tad’s mouth. “Lead the way.”

Which he definitely didn’t have to tell Tad twice.

* * * * *

“Woodatsi. I’ve found you.”

Max paused from straightening a sculpture and turned around, the gallery steadily filling for the show. His mom smiled up at him, all dolled-up and pretty.

“Mom. You made it. Wow. You look nice.”

And she really fucking did. What with that ankle-length turquoise dress and the way her hair draped loosely over her shoulders? Like a cascading waterfall, with slender braids mixed in. She even wore make-up, ‘cause now her cheeks and lips looked pinker. And her big brown eyes looked even fucking bigger. Max couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her look so fancy. And to know that she’d made the effort for him? He leaned down and wrapped her up tight in his arms.

“Well, of course, I made it,” she laughed, hugging him just as tightly. “Traffic was a nightmare, but I prevailed.”

Max smiled a little and released her. “You’ve always been a warrior.”

“As have you.” She took his hand. “Now show me around.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled quietly. He could feel the tiny shift. That soothing effect his mom had on his soul. Not always, but sometimes. When his tank was bone dry. When he’d been running on fumes for far too long. Which he definitely had been, for well over a week. Ever since he’d cut Sean from his life. Not that he hadn’t been on empty prior, but that Wednesday morning when he’d made Sean leave? He’d hit rock bottom. Dried up like the Sahara fucking desert. So, yeah, right now his mom was an oasis. A cool breeze. A much-needed breath of fresh air.

He led them to a corridor, one that circled the entire gallery, and gestured to the colorfully-strewn walls. “I collaborated with the other branches of the art department. Wanted as many of the students represented as possible. We’ve got drawings and paintings, even photography showcased.” Unfortunately, none of Sean’s, though. Max knew because he checked. “Up ahead, there’s some textiles and mosaics and stuff. There’s even a stretch for interior design.”