Blood & Thunder (THIRDS 2)

Sloane carefully leaned over and placed a kiss to Dex’s bare shoulder, tempted by the curve of his spine leading down to that plump ass underneath the covers. God, he loved Dex’s ass. Then again, there wasn’t a whole lot of Dex not to love.

Love?

He quickly pushed that thought aside. What the hell was wrong with him? He cared about Dex, he did, and he had no trouble being affectionate, or showing Dex how crazy he made him, but love was another matter, one he wasn’t willing to explore. He’d loved Gabe, and look where it got him. No, when Gabe died, he took all the love Sloane had with him, took a part of Sloane with him, one he’d never get back. He did care about Dex, and he was sure if he let himself, he could get attached to the guy, find himself needing and wanting to be with him, but love wasn’t something he could see ever happening to him again.

Annoyed with the direction his thoughts were going, he climbed out of bed, grabbed his boxer briefs and T-shirt, and went about his morning routine. He’d have about forty minutes before Dex came ambling into the kitchen like the walking dead in search of coffee. Sloane had never met anyone who loved—or needed—coffee as much as Dex, and they worked for an organization that depended on the stuff like junkies relied on crack. If coffee became an illegal substance, the THIRDS would crumble, and his partner would likely end up a drug kingpin, trafficking coffee beans across the five boroughs.

The morning after the first time they’d had sex, Dex had been his usual self, and his enthusiasm had led to a hot blowjob for Sloane in the shower. Sloane quickly discovered it had been a one off. A mixture of medication from his injuries at the time, his excitement of getting back to work after weeks of recovery, and Dex’s keenness to sex Sloane up, had been responsible for the man’s alert state. After that, until his partner had his coffee, no signs of life existed.

A shuffling sound, followed by a long groan caught his ear and Sloane turned, watching in amusement as Dex took a seat at the counter. Sections of his hair stuck up in peaks, making him look like he had little devil horns, and he had a pillowcase mark across one pink cheek.

“Morning,” Sloane said cheerfully.

Dex looked up at him without raising his head. He let out a grunt and Sloane chuckled. And the guy called him grumpy pants. Adding the hot frothed milk to Dex’s coffee, he placed the bucket-sized cappuccino in front of his partner. Dex wrapped his hands around the mug, shuddered from head to toe, and rather than lifting it to his mouth, he hunched over to put his lips to the mug, and sipped.

“Oh God,” Dex moaned, closing his eyes, making the same face he did during sex. It went straight to Sloane’s groin. Curious, he decided to ask.

“If you had to choose between coffee and—”

“Coffee.”

“You didn’t know what I was going to say,” Sloane laughed.

Dex shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Coffee.”

“Me or coffee.”

“Coffee.”

“Wow. Okay, sex or coffee.”

“Coffee.”

“Your brother or—”

“Coffee. I would totally trade my brother for a good cup of coffee.” He took a sip with a contented sigh. His gaze shifted to Sloane. “Okay, maybe I wouldn’t trade him in for coffee. Although….” He pursed his lips thoughtfully then shook his head. “No, you’re right, that would be wrong.”

Sloane didn’t mind he came second to coffee, because all he had to do was bide his time. The dark, frothy brew might dominate his lover’s mind at first, but as soon as Dex was finished, they’d both have breakfast, and then the dishes would be cleared and washed. They’d go upstairs, brush their teeth, and Sloane would take off his shirt on the way to the armchair at the end of the bedroom where his clothes and toiletry bag were. As expected, he’d never make it there.

Dex pounced, arms wrapping around Sloane’s waist, one hand caressing Sloane’s chest, the other slipping underneath the elastic band of his boxer briefs while Dex delivered kisses to his back, the tip of his tongue licking, teeth nipping.

“Still thinking of trading me in for coffee?” Sloane asked huskily.

“I may have been a bit rash. You know I can’t be trusted when the Starbucks siren gets me in her caffeinated clutches. I’m weak. It shames me.” Dex’s hand wrapped around Sloane’s hardening cock, drawing a low moan from Sloane, his other hand tugging down Sloane’s underwear. Dex’s teeth bit down on the flesh of his ass cheek, and Sloane bucked into Dex’s hand with a low growl. “What can I do to make it up to you?” Dex’s tongue poked out to lick Sloane’s ass where he’d bitten him.

“We don’t have much time,” Sloane replied, trying to keep his breath steady.

“How about I let you fuck my mouth in the shower? I know how much you like that.”

“Like” would be an understatement. As Dex took his hand and led him to the bathroom, all Sloane could think about was how mornings were a lot more fun with Dex around.

THE THIRDS training facility was huge, oc

cupying three buildings along York Avenue, stretching down three blocks with an outdoor facility running down the length of Cherokee Place. It was rather impressive.

For months, it seemed as if Dex was always in one training session or another. Today it was bonding with your Therian partner, a session Dex was meant to have taken months ago when he first joined, but due to everything going on with the HumaniTherians case he’d been working on with his team, it kept getting postponed. The rest of the rookies in this session were brand new recruits, making Dex the most experienced rookie there.

He waited in the huge changing bay filled with rows and rows of curtained off sections to give Therian agents privacy during and after their shift, including receiving Postshift Trauma Care afterward. Sloane had left his clothes and belongings in the equally expansive locker room next door before walking out in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He’d given Dex a wink before slipping past him behind the curtain of their designated area. Dex stood dutifully in front, his hands clasped behind his back trying not to freak out at the hundreds of feral growls, roars, and howls echoing through the place. He was used to Therians shifting, especially having grown up in a house with a Therian brother, but standing in a room filled with hundreds of them was something he was still growing accustomed to. Instead, he concentrated on his partner.