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one to fuck it.
 He speeds up, thrusting into you harder and
harder. He loves hearing you gasp for air because he
knows your body is clenched tight, waiting for the
right moment to come. Again and again and again he
slams into you, flesh against flesh, bodies fitting
Cory did the same, bracing one foot against the top
of the nightstand so he had more space to play with the
dildo. He thrust as hard as he could, building the heat
and pressure.
 And then he comes, spilling his hot seed within
76 Demon's Dance
your body. He tilts back his head, a wild look in his
eyes, his skin shining with the sweat of his efforts.
And yet he keeps going, not entirely satisfied until he
knows you are& 
Cory shouted incoherently as the building climax
broke and spilled over. His body spasmed all the way
down to his toes. Come gushed from his cock, a torrent
of sticky whiteness that spilled across his stomach and
between his legs. He lay there, spent, too tired to even
remove the dildo.
 Gods, my boy, if you only knew what you ve done
to me& 
He dropped off, leaving Cory with that cryptic
Chapter Six
In three days, Tristan saw Cory five times, wandering
in and out of stores in the Gaslamp District, around the
touristy shops by the bay, all the way through Horton
Plaza, the mall built like an Escher drawing. Tristan
saw him first, always staying out of the way. It was
hard because Cory didn t deserve to be ignored like
this. The guy was crazy if he thought Tristan would
ever pose for him again. It wouldn t happen. Cory
seemed like the most honest and sincere guy he d ever
met, and Tristan wanted to spare him the dangers of
becoming involved with a cambion.
The evening of the fourth day, Tristan unrolled the
camping pad he d bought with some of Cory s money
and laid it out on the cold cement under the highway
bridge. He felt safe enough to sit down and relax since
there were a couple of other homeless guys on the
other side minding their own business. At least San
Diego nights were bearable as long as he had a blanket
to roll up in.
Jeez, he was screwed. This was no kind of life,
sleeping on the street and taking pity money from cute
photographers. At least he had food tonight, hot and
fresh from that Mexican food place across the street
from the library.
He needed his meds first, though. His body s
protests increased the longer he went without them,
but he didn t have a choice. Not like he could go back
to Blanco and ask for more.
78 Demon's Dance
He d just twisted open the lid when footsteps
caught his attention. Shit. White guys. Two of them,
full of themselves and their need to prove their
manliness. Their pants hung low, and ugly bling hung
around their necks. The taller one, wearing an oversize
black jacket, got his kicks by wrapping his arm around
the smaller one s neck and stealing his baseball cap.
Tristan stayed motionless, hoping they d pass by
and ignore him, but it didn t work.
 Where you get that, man? the smaller one asked.
He d gotten his cap back and pulled it low over his
eyes. He snatched the pill bottle.  What is it?
Tristan kept his head down and slurred,  Give it
back, dude. Won t do you no good.
 Don t believe you. Ball Cap shoved his shoulder.
 You ain t one of the regulars here. Empty your
pockets, fool.
Tristan stood to face them.  Don t got nothin .
Leave me alone.
 Oooh. Gonna do a little karate on us, huh? Black
Jacket grabbed the scruff of Tristan s hoodie and
slammed him against the wall. Pain shot through
Tristan s head, and he raised his arms in self-defense.
A mistake; a vicious punch to his gut drove the wind
out of him. He doubled over, gasping for air.
 Bastard. Tristan swung wildly and managed to
land a punch to Ball Cap s shoulder, but it didn t even
stun him. Tristan sank to the ground and curled up, the
only protection he had left.
They tore at him, clawing at his hoodie and his
pants, taking his drugs and the money Cory had given
him.  Fool, Black Jacket said.  Shouldn t have lied to
us. Blinding pain shot through Tristan s gut from a
Evey Brett 79
sharp kick to his kidney. Both guys laughed, and they
took his uneaten burrito for good measure.
Tristan crawled onto the mat, breathing slow and
shallow until the worst of the throbbing pain receded
and he could manage the walk up the hill to the only
person who might help.
 Holy shit, Cory said when he opened the door on a
bruised, bloody figure. His heart pounded in worry.
 Get in here.
Tristan shuffled forward only far enough for Cory [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]