Duck Duck Ghost (23 page)

“We could, but as soon as we open the crate it’s in, she might be all over it. And I’ve got a feeling if she gets a hold of that doll before we do, shit’s going to go to hell in a handbasket faster than we can throw rock salt,” Cin said in his low rumble. Tristan met his hard gaze straight on when Cin looked at him from across the coffee table. “Unless Tristan here’s got some mojo inside of him to stop her. And
that
is something I’ve gotta see.”

“G
OD
, I
am dead tired.” Tristan made a small bounce when he flung himself facedown on their bed. “How the heck did Sey not know she had about thirty boxes put up in that room? Fuckers were heavy. It’s going to take us forever to go through them tomorrow.”

Dinner’d been a hasty gulp of sandwiches while discussing what they would work on next. The animals needed to be moved out, especially since the barn seemed inclined to burst into flames at a moment’s notice, but relocating Sey’s crates was on the top of their list. The Kincaids agreed they’d move the livestock over to neighbors who offered to take them in while Tristan dug into Sey’s old inventory.

Wolf wasn’t happy about Tristan’s going at the boxes on his own, but Cin scorned his overprotectiveness.

“You’re telling me he’s been doing this kind of thing for years now, Wolf,” Cin admonished. “He’s a big boy. If things go to shit, I’m pretty sure he can take care of himself. Maybe.”

It’d taken them nearly an hour to remove the furniture, finding places for the heavy pieces while fighting Daylen off from opening the smaller crates. After Cin threatened to cut off his dick and fingers if he touched one more thing, the young man crept back onto one of the chairs they’d left in the room and proceeded to flirt with Tristan.

Wolf was pretty sure he was going to kill the posh-accented young man before they could get rid of Sey’s ghost. And he was also certain if he let Daylen live for maybe another day, Cin would help him.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Wolf stretched his arms up and shook off the aches in his shoulders. He tugged his socks off. Then with a quick twist of his fingers, he turned them into a ball and tossed them toward the chair he’d left a hoodie on. They bounced once, then arched off the seat and onto the floor. Making disappointed crowd hisses, he flopped over and buried his face into Tristan’s lime-scented hair.

“I like this shampoo you use. Very citrusy. I can grab some minty one and we can try to muddle ourselves together into a mojito.” He snugged up against the man’s side, working his hand down Tristan’s spine. Tristan didn’t flinch or react when Wolf lightly skimmed the spots he’d bruised in the fight, but he still wanted to be cautious. Kissing Tristan’s ear, he whispered. “You are simply the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.”

“Wow, you need to get out more,” Tristan laughed as he turned over to face Wolf.

“Don’t do that.” He shook his head, hearing a familiar deprecation in Tristan’s snark. “Don’t put yourself down. You deserve better.”

The wariness was back on Tristan’s face. It was spiced with a bit of caution and stubbornness, just as it’d been the first time Wolf saw the blond man behind the Grange’s reception desk. Much like that moment, Wolf was struck with the man’s haunting beauty and a small whispering need to kiss away the shadows in Tristan’s changeable eyes.

Stroking Tristan’s cheek, he inched himself as close as he could get to press into Tristan’s body. “You are something miraculous.”

“You’re just saying that because I see ghosts,” he scoffed. “And you’re a freak that gets turned on by that.”

“No, I’m saying that because you’re a weird, geeky pretty man who makes me stop and think about what I’m saying or regret it immensely when I don’t.” Wolf stole another kiss, stretching out their contact until he was certain he’d leave Tristan without any air to draw on in his lungs. He was right. When he pulled back, Tristan was panting, and their erections fought for space between them, lunging and parrying in an attempt to break free of their sweatpants prisons. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever wanted to avoid hurting before. I’ll be the first one to admit it, Thursday. I’m an asshole, but you being around? It makes me want to be good enough to be with you. Even if I do fuck it up something royal every time I open my mouth.”

“You open your mouth a lot,” Tristan agreed.

Wolf recognized the faint glint in the man’s eyes, and he trailed a hand down over Tristan’s hip, stroking slowly to feed Tristan’s flickering arousal.

“We should talk—”

“Of cabbages and kings,” Wolf quoted. “I’ll be the cabbage. You be the king.”

“I’ve always felt more Jabberwocky than king,” he admitted. “Especially now. Shit, Daylen could have been killed. Sey could have lost the barn.”

“None of which are your fault.”

“I feel like it is. Inside. Down deep.”

“Do you think your parents’ death was your fault?” Wolf was surprised when, a heartbeat later, Tristan still hadn’t answered. “Oh fuck, babe. There’s no way you were responsible for that. You were a kid.”

“I wonder sometimes, you know?” He cocked his head, and a fall of gold hair partially covered his face, leaving most of it in shadow. “If I hadn’t been so weird, maybe they would have stayed home more. Stayed with me more.”

“I don’t know why they weren’t with you, Tris. I don’t. I don’t know them enough to judge, and fuck, I don’t think anyone should judge them. You three were in a tightly wound situation, and from what it sounds like, the adults in the equation were a bit emotionally compromised.” He returned his fingers to Tristan’s face, rubbing at the man’s lower lip with a press of his thumb. “So no, just because you’re looking at it from the self-centered perspective of a kid’s world doesn’t mean that they were running from you. Chances are, they were running from themselves.”

“Didn’t say it wasn’t stupid, just that it feels like that sometimes. Especially since, you know… my brother.”

“That’s all on your parents. They were carrying around a lot of pain and guilt. From what it sounds like, anyway. Doesn’t mean you’re weird because of it.” Wolf tweaked the end of Tristan’s nose, liking the husky laugh he got from the man. “You’re just weird because you’re weird. Not like I’m the poster child of normal.”

“I’d have said you’re the most normal one in your family. Until I met Sey, anyway.”

“Gildy is definitely stranger than me.” They’d taken a bucket of cleaning fluids and other household things out of Gildy’s room. She’d protested their removal of her exorcism kit, but Wolf wasn’t fooled. The old lady was playing them over something, but he hadn’t quite figured it out yet. “She’s crazy like a fox. She’s up to something, or she could just really be insane. I haven’t decided.”

“I know what you’re up to.” Tristan rubbed his hips against Wolf’s. “Totally easy to figure out.”

“Baby, my dick is like Lassie around you.” He chuckled. “It gets hard for no reason, and I’m always asking it,
What is it, boy? Do you see something you like?
”

“Way to kill the mood.” Tristan pushed at Wolf’s chest, but it wasn’t a hard enough push to budge him. Tristan’s palms lingered on Wolf’s nipples, rubbing at them through his T-shirt. “Never ever call your dick Lassie or anything animal related. That’s just… gross.”

“How about Godzilla?” Wolf countered. “I can make rawr noises. They’re pretty sexy. From what I’ve seen, you really like it when I sound like Godzilla.”

“Do you remember the last time you were making rawr noises? We not only got a ghost, but Cin came through the door. I don’t know if my heart can take that again.” Tristan jerked his thumb toward the windows. “And you wouldn’t believe where some of that salt ended up. I was picking it out of the paint. I should totally tell Sey. She’ll kick his ass.”

“No Cin this time. I locked the door and made sure the windows were sealed up tight. We’re fully salted up and ready for her this time.” He slid his hands down again, working his fingers past Tristan’s waistband and down to the soft milky skin of his hips. “So, my rawr noises? You wanna hear them?”

Tristan cocked his head as if thinking about it, then smiled, “Yeah. Thought you’d never ask.”

T
HERE
WOULD
never be a time when sliding his body against Wolf’s would be anything but a sensual pleasure. With Wolf pressing him down into the bed, Tristan stretched out and tried to touch as much of Wolf as he could, luxuriating in the feel of soft hair against his thighs and Wolf’s balls and dick brushing over his cock.

Wolf’s pulse thrummed under his skin, and it reverberated everywhere along Tristan’s body. His own heartbeat echoed in his ears, and with the silence of the world closing in on them, all Tristan heard was the push and pull of their breathing, then the quiet wet of their tongues finding comfort in each other’s mouths.

There lay a mingle of rain and man in Wolf’s mouth, a savory hint of an after-dinner hour spent slogging through the paddock to round up very stubborn shaggy red cows and a single grumpy camel named York. His lover’d almost needed another shower when the not-so-tiny calf barreled into him, but at the last moment, the out-of-control youngster veered off and slammed into Cin, sending the man ass over teakettle into a mud puddle.

Tristan’s laugh brought Wolf’s head up, and they shared a moment, a simmering heat caught in the light drizzle coming down between the house and the barn. The fire they’d set then remained between them, fed by the slow touches of their hands as they met on the porch, then again when Tristan scrubbed away most of the damp on Wolf’s face and hair with a warm towel.

They’d tumbled upstairs, laughing softly at stupid things, like Daylen’s gaga face over Cin’s naked, slightly furred chest when Wolf’s cousin stripped off his muddy shirt in the middle of the kitchen and nearly followed suit with his pants before Sey stopped him. Gildy and Daylen’s protests fell on deaf ears, and Cin was chased off to his room, grumbling all the way there that he’d just have to carry his filthy clothes back down.

“God, it feels good to have something we can do to get rid of her,” Tristan sighed.

“Let’s leave our ghost outside. I didn’t salt this room up like a pretzel only for you to be dragging her back in here.”

Wolf kissed him again, and Tristan opened his mouth to let Wolf take what he wanted. They drew out the connection, their lips nearly bruised from tasting one another, until Tristan needed to breathe. Wolf was panting a bit heavily, but his cocky grin promised Tristan there would be a lot more kissing as the night went on.

“Turn over,” Wolf said as he sat up, reaching for the lubricant he’d tossed onto the bed. “I want to see how much I can make you squirm, baby.”

The sheets were soft on Tristan’s belly, and he frowned at Wolf when the man tapped his side and told him to lift his hips. Canting his rear up, Tristan felt the rougher grip of a towel being slid under him, then the soft press of Wolf’s mouth on his ass before Wolf gently pushed him back down onto the bed.

“I know you hate wet spots,” Wolf explained over the pop of the lubricant cap being opened. “So, there you go. Towel. Now close your eyes and hold on, love. I’m going to take my time opening you up for me.”

He gripped the sheets, wrapping as much around his fingers as he could. There was going to have to be trust between them, Tristan realized. Especially for things like what Wolf was about to do to him. It was all so very new, so very bright and sharp in his mind and on his body, and Tristan wasn’t sure if he ever was going to be used to Wolf’s fingers and mouth on his skin.

With all of the trembling and goose bumps crawling over him, Tristan found he didn’t ever want the prickle of anticipation to go away. And he found himself already aching for Wolf’s thick girth to spread him apart. His cock was definitely in on the thrill, because it was already wet and stiff in its prison against his belly, so Tristan shifted, hoping to ease some of the deep-seated ache building up in his balls and shaft.

The moving did no good. His cock still throbbed worse than his thumb did when he hit it with a hammer, and all the shifting about did was earn him a stinging slap on the ass from Wolf’s broad palm.

“Stay put, Thursday. I don’t want to be fumbling about when I’m looking for what I want between those asscheeks,” Wolf grumbled over him. “Or anything else. Just. Lay. There.”

Trust was a hard thing. Not nearly as hard as his dick at the moment, but it was a close second. There’d not been many times when Tristan fell and there’d been someone to catch him. But then, he didn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been falling. It’d only been since he’d met Wolf that he finally felt the ground beneath his feet.

Other people spoke longingly of having the wind beneath their wings. Tristan would have killed just to have the earth between his toes or the grass tickle his heels.

Or better yet, the feel of Wolf’s fingers invading him.

He could smell the oil, and he tensed when he heard Wolf’s hands squishing together. His shoulders knotted up, and Tristan forced himself to relax, but there was no running from the edge of want building up inside of him, and his hole clenched and gave between his cheeks, kneading in and out in anticipation.