Wait Until Dawn by Bailey Bradford (book club suggestions .txt) 📕

side, his back to the door. The rise and fall of his ribs along with the unnatural stillness proved he was faking sleep. Chris had held the man, watched him sleep. Some part of Rich was always twitching.

“I’m not buying it, and I’m not letting you tell me you don’t want anything to do with me, or you’re fine, or any of the other crap you told everyone else so they’d leave you alone.” Proclamation made, Chris strode to the bed and hooked a hand under Rich’s elbow. It didn’t take much effort to get the man to roll to his back, although he didn’t open his eyes.

“Come on now, I’m not leaving and you can quit hiding.”

Rich’s eyes fluttered open and Chris hadn’t known the relief he’d feel at seeing those dark chocolate irises framed in white. He didn’t wait for an invitation and ignored Rich’s stiff limbs. Chris crawled onto the bed and lay beside Rich, whose gaze dipped to the bruises on his neck. Rich gasped and tried to roll away, but Chris caught him and held him to his chest while Rich struggled weakly for a minute. “I’m not letting go.”

“Why?” Rich quit fighting and snuggled against him. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either,” Chris confessed. “But I feel something for you, something that pulls me to you like an invisible string tethering us together. I can’t walk away and leave you like this now.” He cleared his sore throat against a swell of emotion. “Maybe not ever, though I can’t say for sure. We barely know each other, but we fit.”

“No, we don’t.” Rich pushed to sit up and Chris let him. He could catch the man if he ran. “No one fits with me. I don’t even fit with me. There are other things in here—” Rich splayed a hand over his thin chest. “I don’t think they’ll ever go away, and I know I can’t go on like this. I wouldn’t subject anyone else to it. Look what I did…” He paled as he touched Chris’ neck with a trembling finger. “How can you not be afraid?”

Chris was afraid. Not flinching at that brief brush over his neck was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he’d managed it because the alternative was to hurt Rich by showing that fear. And Chris was more afraid of hurting Rich, of losing him before they could explore this strange and wonderful bond between them. “It wasn’t you,” he said simply. “You wouldn’t ever have hurt me, and you certainly aren’t stronger than me. Whatever that was—whoever—” Chris tested the waters, saw the way Rich averted his eyes. “You believe it’s McAlister.”

Rich dipped his head in agreement. “I suspected all this time. I’d wake up with something else in my head, images of the men he’d raped and killed, of Conner tied to the bed, screaming as McAlister eviscerated him, McAlister looking down at my body tied to Laine’s bed. I could f-feel his pleasure in s-suffering and—”

“Shh, you don’t have to tell me unless you want to.” Chris wasn’t sure he could handle it, but he’d find a way, for Rich. “You can’t let him win. There was another presence, wasn’t there?”

“Yeah, that one’s new.” Rich shuddered hard enough Chris figured it had to rattle his bones. “Showed up the night I decided to blow my brains out to put an end to McAlister once and for all.”

“No, Rich, honey, don’t ever do that.” Chris ached inside, a sharp, hollow pain that reverberated through him, obliterating his center and every trace of the peace he’d found earlier. He found himself clinging, for the first time in his adult life, to another person, desperate to touch. “Don’t give him that, don’t give him you and take that from me. Don’t.”

“Chris.” Just his name, one syllable. How could it carry so much desolation and heartache?

Chris caught a puddle of moisture that spilled from the corner of Rich’s eye. He bent and kissed the tender skin, his hands tracing over any part of Rich he could touch. He wanted the man in his arms with every cell in his body, and he’d take him in the way that would be best for Rich.

Catching Rich’s wide mouth with his own, Chris rolled to his back, pulling Rich on top of him in a way similar to the episode earlier. Chris thought he could handle it, but his stomach burned and clenched and a tremor traveled from his shoulders to his feet. He rolled them back to their sides, keeping Rich’s mouth busy, learning the taste and texture of the man all over again, branding the scent and memory into his mind.

“Fuck me,” Chris pulled away long enough to whisper then promptly took Rich’s lips in a demanding kiss. Chris fitted his groin to Rich’s and cupped his ass, bringing their cocks together in a hard grind that had them both groaning. “Fuck me, Rich, don’t make me beg.”

Chris swallowed the protest he could see coming before it spilled from Rich’s lips. He slipped a hand between them and unfastened his jeans, kicking carefully as he shoved them down. He toed off his shoes and socks, then he was naked except for his shirt, but he had that pulled off quickly and tugged Rich’s head toward his pierced nipples. “Please, honey…”

Rich leaned back on his elbow and swept Chris with a slow gaze from head to toe. “Yes,” Rich said so softly it was more an exhalation than a word. He started to unbutton his shirt then stopped when he fingered the leather strip. “I want to feel you all over, but I—”

“Put it on me,” Chris advised, trying not to shout out at Rich’s willingness to allow him to see the man’s sexy body. The trust in him doing so was an even stronger aphrodisiac. “Here.” Chris lifted the necklace from Rich and dropped over his own head. He flipped the crystals to his back. “You want unlimited