Heart's Redemption (MxM)

Chapter 3 ~ Ian

The kid—Sam—moves faster than I've seen anybody move who wasn't something unnatural. One second he's on the other side of the seat, and the next he's on me.

I'm startled and confused, but one thing is quickly made clear: he might be young, but he's no innocent.

The moment I feel his soft lips on mine, I know I'm fucked.

For one thing, I can't seem to move. I'm paralyzed; awake but helpless in the grip of a strange dream.

Meanwhile, he straddles my lap and molds himself against my body, looping his arms around my neck. There's a heat coming off him that I feel through my clothes, seeping through my skin and sinking deep.

I want to tell him to stop—to push him away and demand answers—but my will breaks beneath his touch.

I've never been kissed the way he's kissing me now—like his mouth is making love to mine—and I can't help the way my body reacts. Then he bites my lower lip and I gasp with the shock of unexpected pain.

He pulls back, licking lips reddened by a thin gloss of blood. His black, almond-shaped eyes are like wells looking down into the void of the outer worlds, and I feel myself falling in.

He rubs himself against me through my jeans, and I gasp again, this time with a shot of pleasure that spreads through me with the quick heat of flame until my whole body is lit with it. It's sweet, rich, and deliciously dark; spiced fire and chocolate in my veins.

It feels amazing. It also feels wrong, and I wish it would stop.

"Say my name," he whispers, tilting his head to kiss the sensitive skin of my throat. I feel his tongue and lips, and his hot breath, and shiver as he rubs himself against me again. "Say it."

"Sam..."

I mean to say, 'Sam, don't,' or, 'Sam, stop,' but the first part is all I manage.

He smiles as he kisses me again.

"Sam..." I repeat, shivering with helpless and unwilling want, the name leaving me on a breath that feels like he drags it from my lungs with his wicked mouth.

"One more time," he urges breathlessly, trailing his lips down the side of my jaw.

I say it, little shocks of pleasure zapping along my nerves from every place he touches. "N—ah! Sam!"

He draws away, and every inch of me that loses contact with him feels bereft of his warmth and desperate to find it again.

"Good man," he says, pretty lips curved in a smile. "Now I think you deserve a reward."

☙✬❧

For better or worse, I don't remember what happens after that. Everything goes dark, and the next thing I know, I wake up with gray morning light spilling into the cab of the truck, stiff and sore from sleeping sitting up.

Next to me on the bench seat, Sam lies asleep on his back, legs tucked up and leaned to one side. As memory comes back to me, I press my hand over my mouth, feeling the sting where he'd bitten my lip.

I don't know what he is, but he sure as hell isn't innocent, and he's no kid.

Even so, looking at him, I can't help it that that's what I see.

He's wearing black skinny jeans, black Converse All-Stars, and a thin, faded black t-shirt. His hair is black, too, and silky smooth, just long enough to fall in his eyes. His figure is slim but not scrawny, his skin is a gold-toned ivory, and his features are undeniably pretty. I could stare at him all day.

I'm doing just that when my eyes go to his soft, sensuous mouth and I remember the things he did with it. Suddenly I can't be in the truck with him anymore.

I get out and stand with my hands laced behind the back of my head. A nest of confused feelings wraps around my heart and squeeze tight, and I take a few deep breaths, trying to pull myself together.

I'm angry, though at myself or Sam I can't tell. I don't understand what he is, or what he did to me, but I know that I lost control, and that's something I'd promised myself I'd never do again.

There was another time I'd woken up after blacking out, after all, and that time the guy next to me hadn't been in such good shape. The memory of that guilt and pain is suddenly too much for me to handle, and I reach for my usual means of escape.

I go some ways into the woods, grateful that we happen to be driving through a forest, strip off my clothes, and Shift to a bear.

The relief is instant. My mind clear and focused, my emotions simple and uncomplicated. I sniff the cool morning air and paw the ground, breathing in the rich aroma of damp earth that rises to fill my lungs.

I head off into the trees, meandering among dew-laden saplings that grow thick in their parents' shade. My fur gathers the droplets and I shake myself dry, enjoying the easy satisfaction of the act.

Discovering a spot where the morning sunlight finds a path through the dense boughs of cedar and fir, I sit and rest in the comfort of my animal form. I feel at home like this; at peace in a way I seldom do as a man.

My dad used to joke about it. He said he couldn't tell if I was a man who took the shape of a bear, or a bear who took the shape of a man, because he didn't know in which form I was more of an animal.

I did.

I'd never hurt anyone as a bear.

At least, no one who wasn't already trying to kill me or the people I love.

When I lose my patch of sunlight to the creeping shade, I head back, still enjoying the quiet stillness of the deep, green woods.

I emerge from the trees near my clothes, Shift, and reach down to pick up my jeans. I've just pulled them on when a quiet laugh from behind me makes me freeze. I take a breath and slowly turn.

Sam leans against a tree, arms crossed over his chest and a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

"Well, well, well," he grins. "I thought there was more to you than met the eye. Seems like we have something in common, after all."