Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

Sean peered back up at him. “Doesn’t seem to really matter.” His eyes turned sad. “I don’t understand. We click so good. What am I doing wrong?”

Scott leaned against the door frame and searched for the words. Clearly, he couldn’t explain why Max acted the way he did. To do so would mean telling Sean his past. And that kind of disclosure was a big, fat fuck-no-no. That was Max’s shit to tell, not Scott’s. So instead, he went with just trying to reassure.

“Most likely nothing, Sean. But this is Max you’re dealing with. I told you, he’s not like other guys. He’s different. Thinks differently. Sees the world a little… skewed.”

“But why? Why’s he different?”

“He’s just… programmed that way, I guess. Has been like this for as long as I’ve known him.”

Which was true. Max’s damage had been done long before they met.

Sean stared at him, brows scrunched, as if trying to decipher Scott’s meaning. Which made sense. Scott was being cryptic in an attempt to honor Max’s privacy. Didn’t mean he liked keeping Sean in the dark. The kid was good people. A stand-up guy. And truth be told, Scott was really kind of rooting for him. He’d loved to see Max finally tear down his walls, especially with someone like Sean. From what Scott could tell, he was Max’s perfect compliment. A positive in his life. Some fresh air in his coffin. A vibrancy Max really fucking needed. He’d been chilling six feet under for way too long. He needed some sun on his face.

Sean sighed, propped his elbows on his knees, and scrubbed his face. “So close. I could feel it. I was so fucking close. And then he called me that name, and I asked what it meant, and he started to answer, and then bam. Lights out. He was just fucking… gone.”

Damn, his disheartenment was straight-up palpable. Was he going to call it quits? Scott really fucking hoped not. He’d have to cold-cock Max’s ass if Sean did.

Scott palmed the top of his head and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, unfortunately that sounds like Max. But listen, don’t lose hope. You’re making progress. So much more than anyone ever has.”

Sean shoved to his feet. “Oh, I’m not giving up.”

Good. Thank fuck.

Sean forced a small smile. “I may have lost the battle, but not the war.”

* * * * *

Flick, flick, flick… … …

Flick, flick, flick… … …

Sean stared at his chrome-black Zippo lighter, fighting the urge to go buy some smokes. But, fuck, he couldn’t stop thinking about last night, and those memories were giving him a serious nic fit. It wasn’t like Max would know if he lit up just this once. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even fucking care.

Sean frowned and chucked the thing to the other side of the couch. No. No way. He couldn’t afford the added stress. Dumping a boatload of guilt atop an already overflowing vat of emotions just didn’t seem like a good idea. As it was, he could barely concentrate at all. Classes all day had been a joke. Hadn’t jotted down one single note. Which was a very bad thing, considering finals were coming up.

Exhaling, he sat forward and rested his face in his hands. He’d been so sure his plan would work. At least on some level. Shit, for most of the visit it’d seemed like it had. He’d gotten Max to kiss him, to kind of sort of admit he liked him. Sean even got him to get freaky outside his dungeon. Something Sean knew was a huge fucking deal. Looked like Max broke some rules for him after all.

And God, did Max get freaky. Sean shivered at the memory. Those multiple O’s not only blew his mind, but turned all sexual understanding on its head. Everything he thought he knew about his body. About sex. About the male fucking orgasm, or rather, orgasms.

Of course, Max had been a ripe bastard while enlightening him, making the majority of Sean’s O’s happen while he was on the phone. Sean smirked and shook his head. Anyone in their right mind would’ve been pissed by that, but to Sean, Max was just keeping shit real. Pushing Sean to his limits like he always did, and taking great pleasure in doing so.

And man, had he taken brazen pleasure last night. Probably the reason Sean hadn’t gotten pissed. The way Max watched him so intently as he repeatedly came undone? Absently squeezing and stroking his own cock? His eyes had been blazing under those thick, hooded lashes, his lips loosely parted as he stared. And, no, Sean hadn’t been lost to the fact that Max kept asking his clients to repeat themselves. Max hadn’t been able to concentrate. Hadn’t been able to process their words. The sight of Sean losing it had been working him over, kind of like that sander had been doing to Sean. No, Max hadn’t come once that whole time, but he sure as shit looked mighty close.