Psycho, page 8
Instead, he took a sip of his water before saying, “I have this talent, right? I can touch things and get impressions, visions, know things I shouldn’t.”
“Psychometry.”
Lucas blinked at him, surprised. “Yeah, people always want to say I’m clairvoyant, but that’s somebody who gets visions unprompted. I have to touch the person or object.”
August studied him. “No wonder you don’t like to be touched.”
Had he told August that? He was starting to think he was the psychic. “Yeah, it sucks to know that even your own family thinks you’re a freak.”
“I can relate to that,” August said. “Imagine being the weirdest psychopath in a house full of psychopaths.”
Lucas laughed softly.
August examined his face. “Surely, somebody in your family cared for you? Took care of you? You had nobody to talk to?”
Lucas’s heart squeezed. “I could’ve talked to my mom. She was like me. But nobody believed her. Hell, I didn’t fucking believe her, not until it started happening to me. But by then, she was gone. She’d left me with my grandfather and took off.”
“Your grandfather didn’t believe in your gifts?”
Lucas snorted. “My grandfather was a movie villain. The haggard farmer with a chip on his shoulder, who believed in men being men and that all questions could be answered by reading the scriptures. I didn’t tell him I could see things. He already thought I was weak. Too quiet, too skinny, too into books. He’d wanted some corn-fed, stocky football-loving grandson, not some sniveling kid who cried too much and was afraid of the dark.”
August stood abruptly, startling Lucas. He walked around the table to sit beside him stiffly before threading their fingers together. This time, it was Lucas who tilted his head, giving August a curious look. “What are you doing?”
August shrugged. “Your face has that pinched look around the eyes, like you did the night I broke in.”
“You mean last night?” Lucas said, amused.
August frowned. “Was it just last night? Seems like a million years ago. But I don’t like you sad.”
Who was this man? “I’m not sad, not anymore. It was a long time ago.”
August stared at him. “Your eyes say you’re lying. You seem sad in your soul.”
It was such a spot-on assessment, it took Lucas’s breath away. He was sad. Deep down, in a place he never talked about, Lucas never stopped being sad. If he did have a soul, his was bruised and battered, aching for some kind of release.
“A physicist who believes in things like souls and clairvoyance? They’re going to run you out of the university,” Lucas teased, trying to ease the sudden lump in his throat.
August’s intense gaze didn’t waver. “I believe in you.”
“You can’t say things like that,” Lucas whispered, swaying forward to brush their lips together.
“Why not?” August answered, pupils dilating.
Lucas snagged the back of August’s head and dragged him forward to slant their mouths together, letting his tongue explore before saying, “Because it makes me want to do dirty things to you.”
August’s hand threaded through Lucas’s hair, his kiss consuming. He let August control the kiss, trying to show him he trusted him, even if August didn’t trust himself. When August pulled him closer, he slipped from his chair to straddle his lap, moaning when he realized he was already hard. Lucas’s hand slipped between them, letting himself palm over the hard line of August’s cock.
Lucas had never wanted anybody as bad as he wanted him. It made him bold. He opened August’s pants, plunging his hand inside, wrapping his fingers around his erection, thumbing over his uncut cock. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Is this okay?”
August trembled, eyes wide as he watched Lucas’s hand jerking him. “You should tie me up first.”
Lucas continued to slowly stroke him, his lips hovering close enough to feel August’s panting breaths. “No. You’re not an animal. I’ll be happy to play those games with you, but not because you think you’re going to lose it and hurt me in some crazed psychotic break.”
“You have a death wish,” August whispered.
A slow smile crawled across Lucas’s face. “Yeah, that’s kind of why they locked me up.”
August growled, capturing Lucas’s mouth in a kiss that curled his toes, a startled cry falling from his lips as August stood, his hands falling to Lucas’s ass, leaving him no choice but to wrap his legs around August’s hips. When they reached Lucas’s bedroom, August dropped him on the mattress, pulling his sweater up over his head as he gazed down at Lucas like he was going to eat him alive. It sent a little shiver along his skin.
He couldn’t hide his surprise at the ink tattooed on August’s skin. He hadn’t seen that one coming. A snake trailed up his left bicep, the scales of justice were on his side, a skull and crossbones sat on his chest, and he had a pair of dice on his shoulder. Did they all mean something to him? Fuck, he was hot. Especially shirtless, in his unbuttoned jeans, black boxer briefs peeking through the vee of his open zipper.
“Come here,” Lucas begged.
August ignored him, instead grabbing Lucas’s ankles and tugging him closer so he could get his pants off. Lucas lifted his hips to help. He had no idea what he was doing but he didn’t even fucking care. God help him, he would let August do anything he wanted.
When both their pants were off, August fell on top of him, his nose nuzzling the space behind his ear, inhaling deeply. Lucas had never had anybody try to inhale him like he was a drug. But August wasn’t done. He dragged his cheek along Lucas’s chest, letting his lips brush over one nipple before his tongue teased the taut peak, sucking until Lucas’s hands gripped his comforter. “Fuck.”
August gave his other nipple the same attention before placing biting kisses over his ribs, his belly, dragging his teeth along his hip bones before nosing along the side of his cock, which was currently tenting his briefs. The sounds August was making were almost…animalistic. Throaty, grunting noises that went straight to Lucas’s dick. It was like August was trying to consume him. It was overwhelming but also so fucking hot. “August…”
Fingers hooked into the waistband of his underwear, tugging them out of the way, and then Lucas’s aching cock was enveloped in the tight heat of August’s mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, hips bucking against his will.
August’s arms snaked under Lucas’s thighs, curling over to grip his hips— holding him in place—like he couldn’t be trusted to hold still. It was a good call. August’s mouth was perfection, and each sucking draw of his lips from base to crown had him gasping, his hands threading through August’s dark hair. “Please...”
Lucas didn’t even know what he was asking for other than to experience the orgasm welling within him. It was like August had been edging him since they met two days ago and Lucas was finally so close to getting what he craved.
August pulled off, chuckling at Lucas’s noise of frustration, before catching his legs beneath the knees, spreading him wide to spear his tongue against his hole. His eyes rolled as August did his best to literally consume Lucas. “Oh, fuck. That feels good.”
He didn’t mean to let his shields slip, but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t concentrate. But instead of the usual barrage of unwanted images, the thoughts and sensations overwhelmed him in the best possible way.
August was imagining burying himself in Lucas but also pondering Lucas doing the same to him. His thoughts were vivid, possessive, almost as addictive as the feel of the soft slide of his tongue over his entrance.
August was thinking things that had Lucas moaning, his hand floating toward his cock, desperate. His hand was almost where he needed it when August’s hand darted out, snaking around Lucas’s wrist, keeping him from touching himself.
“August…”
He stopped, his gaze pinning Lucas in place. “You had your chance to control the situation. You refused. You can come when I’m done.”
His voice was a low growl, as if daring him to move. This was the real August, the torturer, the tormentor. Not all torture was pain. Sometimes, it was giving just enough to leave someone desperate for more.
Lucas dropped his head back onto the mattress with a shaky breath. August didn’t release his wrist, just held it in a vise grip as his other hand slipped into the dark furrow between his cheeks, circling his entrance before impaling him on one spit slick finger. “Fuck… August.”
He ignored him, his tongue licking around his rim as his finger pumped in and out, the combo sending Lucas’s senses into orbit. He was never one to beg, but he was contemplating it. Part of him worried August would only prolong it to toy with him more. He did the only thing he could think, mindlessly impaling himself on August’s finger, moaning every time it glanced across that bundle of nerves that set fire to his blood, making him groan.
When August finally closed his mouth over his cock once more, Lucas couldn’t control the movement, working his hips, unable to decide which he liked most—the finger moving within him or the perfect suction that was August’s mouth.
August still had his wrist in his grip. Lucas was afraid to say anything, to cry out, to even tell August he was close…and he was so close.
Still, they’d never been together like this before; they hadn’t even discussed boundaries. Did August even believe in boundaries that didn’t involve ropes or chains? “I’m so close. Please, don’t stop. Please.”
He didn’t stop. If anything, his head bobbed faster, driving Lucas closer to the cliff until he finally tumbled over with a shout, flooding August’s mouth with his release, shuddering as he moaned.
As soon as August’s finger slipped free, Lucas rolled them, snatching August’s arms and pinning them overhead, kissing him deep to taste himself on his tongue. “My turn,” he snarled.
The change in August was lightning fast, his muscles relaxing, his eyes going soft, like he’d been submitting his whole life. It was somehow just as much of a turn on as August’s animal side, maybe more so. What had August said? He leaned down to bite at August’s ear. “Who’s the rabbit now?”
August’s nostrils flared, his pupils blown. “You are. But it seems I’m at your mercy.” There was a slight tinge of humor to his tone, one that let Lucas know he’d play along, that he wanted this, too.
“Hands on the headboard. Don’t move.”
August threaded his fingers together, resting them near the headboard, eyes never leaving Lucas. If he could have gotten hard again, that look would have done it. August’s quiet submission. The way he looked at Lucas like he was something worth having. He was so fucking sexy.
Lucas sat back between August’s splayed thighs, looking over his torso and the dark hair dusted over his toned chest and belly, following the trail to his uncut cock, hard and flushed red, jutting from a nest of dark hair.
Lucas had no idea where to start. August was a buffet with too many options. But he’d taken his time with Lucas, and part of him wanted to do the same. See if he could take August apart a piece at a time.
Lucas raked blunt nails from August’s collar bones to his hips, watching the red lines emerge along his skin. Goosebumps erupted over his whole body. He leaned down and bit August’s one nipple while he gently teased the other, loving the way August hissed, his hips arching against his will. Lucas repeated his experiment as he switched sides. Lucas used his teeth to tug and scrape, then his tongue to soothe.
When he sat back once more, August’s hard cock was leaking. Lucas bent down and licked over his slit, pre-cum slightly bitter on his tongue. August growled when Lucas slid his lips up one side of his shaft and down the other before taking him in hand and working him with his fist. August’s lids fluttered closed, the muscle in his jaw pulsing as he tried to fuck into Lucas’s hand.
“Uh-uh. You had your chance. It’s my turn,” he teased, as August had moments ago.
August’s eyes snapped open, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “I’d respectfully like to remind you that my hands aren’t actually tied.”
Lucas laughed softly. “I would respectfully like to remind you that it’s you who’s worried about losing control, not me. You’re the one who thinks you need a choke collar, not me.” Lucas arched a brow, returning August’s smirk. “If you’re feeling froggy, leap.”
Lucas never saw it coming. One minute, he was peering down at August, the next, he was on his back, August looming over him, straddling his chest.
“Careful,” he purred.
Lucas didn’t care about being careful. He lifted his head, rubbing his lips across whatever he could reach, August’s chest, his ribs. He ran his palms up his thighs before guiding him closer until August’s cock hovered above his lips. Lucas took him in his mouth, moaning around August as he gently threaded his fingers through Lucas’s hair.
August seemed in no hurry, watching as he worked himself deeper into Lucas’s mouth with each slow roll of his hips. “Fuck. You’re so fucking beautiful. Can you take more?”
Lucas didn’t answer, just swallowed him down, shivering as August groaned, one hand tightening in his hair and the other gripping the headboard. Lucas’s cock was trying so hard to rally as he watched August watch him, his ab muscles contracting with each thrust, his lips parted, eyes rolling as he fucked his mouth.
“I’m close,” August rumbled, his hips moving faster, his breathing heavier, and then suddenly, he was pulling free, his cum splashing over Lucas’s lips and face. August still loomed over him, sucking in breaths. After a minute, he reached down, that same feral gleam in his eye as he slid his fingers through the mess on Lucas’s face, pushing it between his lips with his fingers. Lucas sucked his cum from his fingers, laughing when August tried to clean up his face by wiping his palms across it. August laughed too before shifting so he could kiss him long and deep, then inexplicably dropped a kiss on his forehead.
“You okay?” he finally asked when they were side by side.
Lucas thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, actually. Better than okay. And you didn’t even kill me or anything.”
August’s smile faded. “Not yet.”
“Did you say all of your brothers are psychopaths?”
They were back in Lucas’s bed after a brief shower. August lay on his back, sheets wrapped around his legs. Lucas laid across the bed, his head resting on August’s stomach while he contented himself with trailing his fingers around Lucas’s hairline.
“No, I intimated that they are. Which would infuriate my brother, Atticus, who thinks you’re just out to prove we’re all killers so you can take us out in some epic sting operation.”
Lucas rolled towards him. “I’ve known you two days, hardly enough time to set up surveillance or any kinds of bugs, especially since I’m no longer an FBI agent. I’m a former FBI agent who had a mental breakdown and accused his co-worker of being a serial killer.”
That’s right. The man who had hurt Lucas so bad he woke up screaming every night. “We’re going to have to talk about that.”
“First, I think I deserve to know what you meant by being the weirdest psychopath in a family of psychopaths.”
August sighed, trailing his knuckles along Lucas’s cheek. “I’ll tell you everything. But if you betray me, there’s going to be a lot of blood on your hands.”
Lucas sat up, looking August in the eye. “Are you threatening to kill me?”
August swayed into his space, catching his mouth in a kiss that lingered. “No. I’m threatening to kill them. You’re mine, whether you know it yet or not. But if you tell the world who we are…what we do…you’ll ruin years of my father’s hard work and my brothers will want your head. Don’t make me kill my family to protect you.”
“I’ve heard of love at first sight, but this is a little intense.”
August kissed him once more. “I don’t love you. I can’t. You know that. You’re choosing to ignore years of training because you haven’t felt anything in so long and whatever this is between us is better than feeling numb. I imagine, a year ago, things between us would have been much more…complicated.”
“Which one of us is the profiler?” Lucas asked, a sadness seeping into his tone.
“I’m not profiling you. But I see you. Hell, since I saw you walk across the quad, all I see is you. And I know that’s a lot. Noah said it’s a lot for people who aren’t like us.”
“Is Noah one of your brothers?”
“No, he’s my brother’s boyfriend. He and my father are the outliers. The two sane men in a sea of psychopaths. Noah loves my brother even though my brother can’t love him. But Noah had nobody, nothing, and my brother’s protection and possessiveness were enough for him, even knowing my brother couldn’t love him. Whatever they have is all consuming. I want that, too, with you. But you’re not Noah and I’m not Adam.”
“No, I’m not. I have no idea what this is. Maybe I am playing with fire just to feel something. Does that change anything? You still kill people and I’m still crazy. I’m not going to tell your secret. Like you said, nobody would believe me anyway. But you need to understand, being with me comes with its own hazards. Kohn will come for me. He’s just playing with me.”
Something exploded behind August’s ribs, a white hot rage that licked through his veins at the thought of anybody attempting to harm Lucas.
He pressed his forehead to August’s. “It’s not worth losing your mind over. He’s coming for me either way.”
“Start at the beginning,” August said, his voice a low rumble.
Lucas sighed, then returned to using August’s belly as a pillow. “I met him four years ago. Special Agent Laurence Kohn.”
August brought his knee up until his heel was flat on the mattress, and Lucas’s fingers began to trail along the underside of his thigh, like he was trying to soothe August’s fury. “Was he a partner or something?”
Lucas shook his head. “He was a field agent. I was a criminal psychologist. We only crossed paths because I happened to be in New Mexico giving a talk on profiling. An officer with the tribal police reached out to me about a case they had, and asked if he could pick my brain about it.”
