Broken Warrior (The Weavers Circle 1) - Page 102

“Hey, Clay,” Dane said, sounding more than a little unsure.

Clay twisted around to find Dane standing on the edge of the field, a questioning look on his face. He could feel his unease, as if he was worried about intruding. “Everything okay?”

“Yes!” Clay laughed and crossed the field. Beneath his feet, he could feel his happiness echoed in the earth and grass. He pulled Dane into his arms and hugged him tight. “Everything is fucking amazing!”

He pulled away and Dane shot Grey a look. The Soul Weaver laughed. “He’s fine. He’s just tapped fully into his power now.”

“And that’s…good?”

Clay hugged him again. “It’s great. It’s what I needed to finally figure out my gift.” He pulled away, and his smile twisted into something a little more wicked as he looked from Dane to Grey. “And I think it’s given me the key to figuring out how to take the battle to the pestilents like we talked about last night.”

“Fine, but later. Lunch first. Then a nap. Tonight, we can plot evil things.”

“Lunch?” Clay looked at Grey, confused. How could it be lunchtime? They’d left the house less than twenty minutes ago. It couldn’t be more than eight thirty.

“Yeah, that’s why I came out here,” Dane said. “Lunchtime. I was thinking of tossing some hamburgers on the grill.”

Clay looked at Grey again, suddenly understanding why the Soul Weaver looked so utterly drained. He’d been with Clay, holding his mind together for hours, not minutes. No, he did not envy the Soul Weaver his gift, but he’d definitely earned Clay’s trust.

Something they were going to need a lot of in the fight ahead.Chapter 24Dane woke with Clay wrapped around him. He didn’t often take naps, but Clay had needed one and didn’t seem willing to leave Dane. So, he had curled up with the man in the garage apartment and slept with him. Now, Clay’s breath was warm on his neck, his slack arm around Dane’s waist. He’d tucked his knees into the back of Dane’s.

The man sure was a cuddler.

Not that Dane minded. No, he loved it.

But now, awake, he worried about what was to come. The guys planned to go after the pestilents. Planned to take the battle to them instead of just running every time the bastards appeared. Dane could admit to the fear deep inside him that something would happen to Clay. Now that he’d found love again, he selfishly wanted to keep it.

But he also knew that Clay had no choice. He had been put onto this Earth to help mankind—to save this world from being sucked into another. He was a goddamn hero.

Clay also belonged to him. He was half of his soul. It felt so strange to think that, to accept that term when it came to his own life. He lay there, feeling the man’s heat against his back and knew that it was just…right.

His love for Clay felt just as strong as his love for Katie. It might even be stronger and scarier because this time, he knew what it was like to suffer real loss. Clay was going out there to face those creatures, and he could very well be killed. Dane didn’t think he could handle another loss like that.

Dane hugged his arm to his body and felt Clay stirring. Lips touched his neck.

“You’re awake?” Clay asked, his voice rusty from sleep.

“Yes.” Dane turned under Clay’s arm to face him. Clay had his other arm up under the pillow and he smiled.

“You’re worrying,” Clay said as he stroked his thumb over Dane’s brow. “Why?”

“Because you’re going up against those things. I can’t help but be scared for you. I want to go.”

“No. We need you safe here in case one of us needs healing. Besides, you don’t have powers.”

“It’s not like Grey’s powers can do all that much.”

“We may not have figured out all he’s capable of yet, but he helped me. A lot.” Clay stroked his hair back. “Damn, I love looking at you. You have the best face.”

Dane cracked a grin. “My face, huh? I thought you preferred other body parts.”

“I like all your parts.” Clay’s hand moved down his body, stopping on his hip. “All of them.” He grazed his knuckles over Dane’s boxer-covered erection. “But yeah, some parts are more fun than others.”

Dane sucked in a breath and lifted one leg to put it over Clay’s thigh.

“Make love to me, Dane,” Clay said. “Take off these boxers and slide that beautiful cock inside me. Make me feel it for days, so I can take the memory of us with me on this fight. Remind me what I’m fighting for.”

“You’re fighting for us all.”

“But you and me, that’s my world.” He threaded his fingers into Dane’s hair and pressed their lips together. “You’re my life, Dane Briggs.”

Dane moaned and wrapped his arms around Clay, tugging the man as close as possible. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, shimmering on the dust motes dancing in the air. He was cocooned in this small room with Clay—as if it were only the two of them in the world. They’d both taken their nap in boxers and T-shirts. He ran a hand down until he found the hem of Clay’s shirt and pushed up underneath. Warm skin met his palm. He felt along the strong back muscles, then slid his hand inside the boxers and cupped his ass.

Tags: Jocelynn Drake, Rinda Elliott The Weavers Circle Romance
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