The Brotherhood - Tezcatli's Game Part 7

"Oh, yes. And I'll be the last," Tezcatli threatened/promised. He moved his hands downward, jerking at the fastening to Quentin's pants. They popped open easily under his strong grip, freeing that swollen c.o.c.k to the night air. "It's all right," he said.

"No one can see us," he lied. "Tell me. You know what I want to hear."

"d.a.m.n you!"

"Tell me!" His hand hovered over Quentin's c.o.c.k. "Tell me, or I won't be good to you."

"Good to me? Good? Fine, then, you f.u.c.ker, fine! I want you. I belong to you now. I am yours." Quentin blazed with anger and l.u.s.t. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Tezcatli grinned, his mouth full of sharp teeth. "It'll do," he said. "It's a start. Now." His hand began to work the hard column of flesh he'd been so close to, but hadn't yet touched. Again. He half closed his eyes at the feel of the weight in his palm. G.o.ds, nothing compared to c.o.c.k.

His free hand ran up Quentin's chest, counting the muscles as he went. Six-pack -- h.e.l.l, he all but had an eight-pack. This one was strong, proud, brave. He had fire inside him. There was no doubt in Tezcatli's mind that he'd make a gorgeous cat.

Tezcatli made his decision. "I'll be good to you," he said, meaning it on several levels. He thought Quentin understood him as he dipped his mouth down toward that c.o.c.k. "So good," he breathed over the tip. "I'm all you need ..." He sank down. Quentin gave a choked cry and gripped at Tezcatli's shoulders, at his hair. Tezcatli grinned around his mouthful and set to work. Tongue up the thick vein on the underside, teasing circles around the head; suction up and down the length. He loved c.o.c.k. Loved sucking as much as he enjoyed f.u.c.king. He wouldn't ever stop if he had a choice.

And with a tom like this? There'd be plenty of chances.

Quentin moaned beneath him, writhing up and down as Tezcatli rubbed his thighs, weighed his b.a.l.l.s in one hand and rolled them back and forth with just the right amount of pressure, then used his hand to work what parts of the c.o.c.k his mouth didn't cover. The man was shameless, kneading Tezcatli's scalp and arching his hips up.

Tezcatli drew back to breathe over the wet c.o.c.k, drenching it in sensation. "It's all right," he said. "You have permission.

Live again. Give it to me." He licked once more, a long, lazy stroke. "Live!"

Then, he drew the head back into his mouth and probed at the slit with his tongue. Quentin bucked, yelled something that wasn't quite words, and grabbed Tezcatli hard enough to hurt. s.p.u.n.k shot from his c.o.c.k into Tezcatli's mouth, salty and musky.

Jet after jet of the stuff, even though he'd already come once.

His b.a.l.l.s were tight as knots against his body as he came. Tezcatli gave them a squeeze, milking his mate until Quentin cried out again and slumped back against the wall.

Tezcatli followed, swarming up onto the bench and balancing on his knees. He thrust his own hard c.o.c.k at Quentin, nudging his lover's spent member. "Me now," he said. "My turn. Service me."

Quentin looked at him with dreamy eyes. He opened his mouth and closed it -- so f.u.c.king tempting that Tezcatli had to seize it in a kiss. Let Quentin taste himself on Tezcatli's tongue. When he drew back, though, the look he got had sharpened. He wasn't quick enough to avoid the man's hand as it shot downward to grab his c.o.c.k through his clothing.

"Thanks," Quentin said. "Now, I want to know something. I figure turnabout is fair play."

Tezcatli gaped. "You -- you --"

"Tell me, Tezcatli," Quentin warned, applying just a little bit of pressure. "You distracted me before, but I don't forget easily.

Tell me who you are. Are you going to hurt me? Put me in danger? I've had enough for one lifetime."

Tezcatli couldn't believe his ears. "You think I can just blurt it out? You think it's that easy?"

"No. I think it's hard." Quentin did something with his hand that should have been illegal -- Tezcatli registered the thumb sweeping down the length of him and a finger digging into the swollen head. "I'm willing to accept what Zach told me. G.o.d help me, but I do want you. The thing is, that means if you want me to take you on, you have to tell me the truth. I've done my fighting and my hiding, Tezcatli. I don't ever want to do that again."

Quentin drew back, utterly serious. "Tell me, or I walk away. You said you wouldn't take me by force. I don't think you will, even if you can be a conceited a.s.shole. I want to hear everything from you, the whole truth. I know you're not normal. Are you even human?"

Tezcatli opened and shut his mouth, stunned at his mate's defiance. "I -- I --" he stuttered. A madness overtook him. He wouldn't give up Quentin, he couldn't. So he'd just have to make sure the man couldn't leave him. "Forgive me," he whispered.

Then, with the slightest application of pressure, he quickly extended a claw and scratched a light trail down Quentin's chest.

It wouldn't be enough to turn the man, but he had to mark him. Had to see his signature on that beautiful flesh.

"Ow!" Quentin jerked back. A few ruby droplets of blood welled to the surface. "What did you do that for?"

Tezcatli caressed his shoulders, then moved his hands down Quentin's arms to the elbows. "So handsome," he murmured.

"Your body gave me no say in the matter."

"Between hurting me and walking away? Great choice, Tez!"

"Don't call me that!" Tezcatli ground his teeth. "I've warned you not to mock me. No one does so --"

"-- and lives?" Quentin finished.

Tezcatli glared at him. Then, he changed his look to an a.s.sessing one. Quentin had gone a little pale and a little red at the same time, his skin blotching. He looked well-f.u.c.ked, his glossy hair in tangles and his lips swollen. He smelled of blood and come.

Gorgeous.

He was someone Tezcatli could treasure.

"No one who wants to enjoy their life runs from me," he said softly, dangerously. "The things I could make you feel, Quentin!

Who am I? I am Tezcatli!" He struck himself on the chest. "I run through the night. I feed. I f.u.c.k. I fight. I rule. I am the King of my kind. They all obey me. By mating with you, by giving you the favor I would give an equal, by placing my initial mark on you I've picked you as my second in command." He paused. "You want to know what I am? Very well. Watch!"

He changed, just a little, his teeth sharpening into points. Drawing back, he bared them at Quentin in a glittering Cat smile. "What do you think I am, now?" he whispered, his voice as rough as his tongue would be now. "Name me." He felt his eyes change to yellow-green as he watched Quentin's face drain of color -- then soft lips hardened into a tight line.

"Come on," Tezcatli challenged. "Do you dare? Ask me again, Quentin. Come on!"

Quentin drew back his hand, and lashed out at Tezcatli. Marking him with four stripes of blood in turn. His face was blank.

"I know what you are," he said. "Jaguar man!"

Chapter Eight

Quentin fought back the urge to laugh -- in triumph -- as Tezcatli stumbled back, one hand flying to his scratches. The look on his face was priceless. One part disbelief, one part rage, and one part admiration. Seriously grudging, but there. Rage won out when he finally spoke. "You little p.r.i.c.k!"

"You thought it was big enough earlier." Not caring anymore who might be looking out to see them, Quentin cupped his c.o.c.k and gave it a tug. He felt strange. Wild and free. He knew he had the warm wind of Zach's approval at his back, and he could do no wrong. His first move? Teaching Tezcatli a lesson.

Oh, it all made sense now. The Aztec look the other man had, his name, the way he moved ... the pieces all fit together.

"Jaguar," Quentin repeated, slowly moving around toward Tezcatli's side while holding his pants up with his free hand. "Did you think I wouldn't know what you were when you showed those teeth? Your claws?"

Tezcatli moved away, slinking sinuously while keeping his eyes fixed on Quentin. His proud mouth was turned down in a scowl, but his eyes told a different story. "What am I?" he challenged.

"Jaguar. I come from close to the border, Tezcatli. You think they didn't tell stories about your kind at night?" Quentin flung back. "Folk who walked like men, talked like them, fed and f.u.c.ked just the same -- but put them underneath a full moon? Presto!

Cats. Big jungle cats who liked to eat our cows and horses. Zach -- yes, I said his name, and I'll say it again if I feel like it -- patched up those you only managed to graze."

"We don't miss often."

"Then there must have been a s.h.i.tty pack living close to us."

Tezcatli bared his teeth and hissed. Looking at him, Quentin wondered how on earth he'd thought he was human. Cat showed through in every bone, joint and sinew. It wasn't just the eyes, gold and green now, or the way his nails had become hooked claws that flexed and retracted back into his fingers.

"How close to the border?"

"What is that? Wounded pride? Close enough. You could see Mexico on a clear day, out on the ranges, or close enough. I learned Spanish from the best cowboys we had. Vete a la mierda, chupaverga." Go to h.e.l.l, b.a.s.t.a.r.d. He grinned, feeling almost as if he had sharp teeth. As if a huge weight were lifted off his shoulders. "Chupame la pinga." Suck my c.o.c.k!

"Corigo tu!" f.u.c.k you!

"Y tu." Quentin moved again, forcing Tezcatli into a slow circle, around and around the smoking porch. He decided to throw in some English for good measure: "d.a.m.n p.u.s.s.y."

He'd expected an immediate reaction, and he wasn't disappointed. Tezcatli's nostrils flared, and for a split second Quentin braced himself for the lunge, the attack, the wrestle. Then, Tezcatli broke into a reluctant grin. Still laced with rage, but a smile all the same. The admiration was not entirely hidden. "You learned all that from a computer."

"More like from cussing out cows and cowboys." They made another slow circle. "Not going to argue my words? Or are you too busy deciding how you're going to slash me up into itty bitty pieces?"

Tezcatli stopped. He ran the tip of his pink tongue over his sharpened Cat teeth. "I think you taste too good to kill," he said.

"Besides, I said it first. I'm keeping you."

"What if I don't want to be kept?"

"Well, too bad for you, then, isn't it? I make the rules. I am alpha. You? You're just a human."

"Maybe not for long. You scratched me, remember?"

"Not deep enough. Not hard, nor long. If that was all it took, you would have already been turned from the way we marked each other while f.u.c.king." Tezcatli subtly relaxed his position, his hand on his chest. He circled a nipple with his finger and grinned wickedly. "You bit me, here. Remember? It's not like vampires, boy."

"Stop calling me that. I know it's not the same."

"You believe in vampires?"

"I believe in ghosts and jaguar men. I'm open-minded." Almost too quick to track, Quentin grabbed a handful of sand from an ashtray and flung it at Tezcatli. While the jaguar was choking and spitting, he made his move. He lunged, taking the werecat down to the ground with him.

Tezcatli went, mostly out of surprise probably. But like a cat, he landed on his feet -- or his hands and knees, then twisting and pinning Quentin after a moment's startled sprawl. Looking down at him, his face would have put the fear of G.o.d in any other man -- but not Quentin. He could barely keep from chortling. "What's so funny?"

"You," Quentin said, letting himself smile. Felt really good after living with tears for so long. He still missed Zach, and he always would, no matter what Tezcatli said. He still blamed himself. There was more he could have done, should have done. There had to have been.

But he no longer felt the crushing weight of guilt on his shoulders. He had been forgiven. Zach had spoken the words, and he'd moved on. Now Quentin could, too, and it would be all right.

He batted at Tezcatli's face like a kitten would. "One time I chased a big jaguar away from a campfire," he said with a lazy grin, testing the waters. "I grabbed a burning log and smacked at him until he ran away. Probably singed a few of his whiskers." He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "That wasn't you, by any chance?"

Tezcatli stared at him with startled eyes, slowly shaking his head. "And to think," he said, almost to himself, "I've been censoring myself all night just in case the thought of a Jaguar Man would frighten you off."

"No. I probably would have laid myself down for you to eat, when I first came in here." Quentin stirred, his pulse quickening.

He could feel the beat thrumming steadily at his neck, his heart and his wrists.

A s.n.a.t.c.h of the Spanish music that had been playing the first time Tezcatli f.u.c.ked him floated through his mind. He translated it into English and wanted to whoop. "Shed your skin / run through the night / four feet forward / face the wind," he quoted. "He one of your boys?"

"One, yes." Tezcatli could win championships for the intensity of his stare. "You've changed. You are not the man I first met tonight."

"No." Quentin searched himself and felt alive. "This is the real me. I don't even know myself, it's been so long. But I'm going to find out again." He let his fingertips trail over Tezcatli's cheek. "Are you coming along for the discovery, too?"

"That depends," Tezcatli returned smoothly. "Do you want to join me?" When Quentin hesitated, the man dipped down, nuzzling against a pulse point. "I thought I'd have to kill you," he said, pausing to trail the tip of his tongue over Quentin's Adam's apple. Figure eights, swirling around and around.

He bit down lightly. "That if you found out about us and didn't join us, that you'd run screaming. Tell the tabloids. I couldn't let that happen to my people, no matter how --" He thrust down. "-- f.u.c.kable you are."

"Sweet-talker." Quentin arched up to meet Tezcatli's rocking motion. He sucked in a breath as their c.o.c.ks b.u.mped. G.o.d, he wasn't a h.o.r.n.y teenager anymore, but the Cat could bring it out of him. Three times in one night? He wouldn't be surprised.

Tezcatli could do anything. Could ... change him.

"You could be one of us," Tezcatli said, as if on cue, against Quentin's skin. His hand moved down between them, teasing at the tip of Quentin's c.o.c.k, which still gaped from his undone pants. Almost too sensitive to touch, but it hurt so good. "Not just a pack member. I didn't come here tonight looking for another lackey. I came here looking for a mate, and I am a Cat of my word.

A mate is what I have found."

"Your crew don't mind?"

Tezcatli looked up, the sheer arrogance on his face amazing. "They don't question or dictate to me," he said in a low voice that resounded with the echoes of battles long since won. Quentin felt a chill creep up his spine. Yanking Tezcatli's chain might be fun, but he'd have to remember that it broke easily.

A warm hand closed over his. "I won't hurt you," the Jaguar man said quietly. "Only enough to change you over. Make you like us. Strong. Free."

"Wild," Quentin pointed out. "I'm a doctor. What would I do if I had to check out of the office every full moon? I -- what?"

Tezcatli looked taken aback. "A doctor?"

Quentin nodded. "Where do you think I got the syringe and glucose? I stole them from the supply cabinets at work. A clinic down on the West Side."

"What sort of doctor?"

"A general pract.i.tioner. G.o.d, you sound like a debutante who just caught a big sugar daddy. You -- hey, stop that!" Quentin laughed and slapped at Tezcatli, who was busy lavishing kisses over his chest. He groaned when that wicked mouth reached a nipple and bit down lightly, then sucked. "Why? What does it matter?"

Tezcatli spared him a look obviously intended for someone devoid of intelligence. "How many of my people do you think actually go to see doctors when they're sick? Do you know how valuable you'd be to me?"

"Some kind of dowry." Quentin chose his words deliberately. When Tezcatli stopped his mouthing of Quentin's skin and went still, he knew they'd sunk home. He went on. "That's kind of what this is, isn't it? I don't remember if jaguars mate for life, but I do. That's the sort of man I am, and I don't think I'd change too much if I were to become a Cat." "You're considering it, then." Tezcatli sounded thoughtful. "You idiot."

"What?" Quentin bucked up, then sank back down with a moan as his c.o.c.k rubbed against Tezcatli's again and the man bore down harder on him. "Say that again?"

The Jaguar man actually looked wounded. "Did you think I'd change you, take you to meet the others, then continue to bed everything that caught my eye? Did you even wonder what kind of man I am?"

"You have to admit I haven't had much of a chance to find out." Quentin's breathing was quickening as Tezcatli kept up the slow rhythm, tormenting him. He realized again, vaguely, that they were outside, where anyone who wanted to could look through the gla.s.s doors and see them.