Page 59 of Thunder Road

As he washed and rinsed, Vic triaged. Simon looked pale and drawn, and eyes haggard. Vic didn’t pretend to completely understand what it meant to command energies like Simon and the other witches had, but he knew the aftermath of an intense night of police work, especially one that involved a stand-off or shoot-out. The adrenaline crash afterward affected mind, body, and spirit. Vic vowed to be there every step of the way for Simon, helping him to recover.

Normally shower time turned into sex in a delicious variety of positions. Much as Vic craved the proof of life validation, he knew they were both too spent.

“Later, I’m going to show you how glad I am that we survived.” Vic hoped his gravelly murmur next to Simon’s ear sent shivers through his lover. “But right now, I’m going to rub you down and put you to bed.”

Vic toweled Simon vigorously enough to get his blood flowing and warm him. Simon was rarely so pliable, which Vic read as proof of how much the night’s work had cost.

He helped Simon into baggy sleep pants and an oversized T-shirt, then shepherded him to bed and tucked him in.

“I’m going to close down and set the locks, and then I’ll be right beside you.” Vic gave Simon a gentle kiss.

Moments later, when the lights were out and the house quiet, Vic slid into bed, lying close enough to throw an arm over Simon and pull them together. He told himself they were sharing body heat to warm Simon, but Vic knew he needed to feel his lover’s breathing and heartbeat to reassure himself that they had survived.

That was a near thing. I could have lost him. That poor nun died. We all nearly died.

I know that risk is part of the job. And I don’t mind—as long as I’m the one taking the chances, not Simon.

No use dwelling on what might have gone wrong. It didn’t, and we’re alive and together.

Take the win and move on.

Even so, it took Vic a while to quiet his thoughts and fall asleep, and when he did, his dreams were restless.

Hours later, Vic edged a hand down Simon’s pants, coaxing his cock to firmness with gentle strokes.

“There’s no hurry,” he whispered as Simon ground his ass back against Vic’s groin. “Just relax and enjoy.”

Simon let Vic work his dick until he was hot and hard, but then he struggled to turn so they faced each other. “Together,”he murmured, in that sleepy growl that Vic loved so much, bedhead and all.

Vic pushed down his briefs and closed their hands over both cocks, eased by the lube he kept close by the bed.

“That’s it.” Vic trailed light kisses over Simon’s skin. “Just go with the feeling.”

It didn’t take long for them to come, and it felt to Vic like the powerful shared orgasm mingled with a release of existential terror.

After another shower, Vic made scrambled eggs and sausage links, along with fresh coffee and cinnamon toast, grateful for the extra time to collect their wits before facing the day.

“I wonder how Batman does it,” Simon mused as Vic handed him a cup of coffee made the way he liked it.

“Does what?”

“Pick up the next morning after saving the city like it was no big deal,” Simon replied.

“Well, he’s a billionaire, so maybe he has a full spa day to soothe jangled nerves,” Vic said.

“Or Alfred drugs his coffee.”

“Or that.”

They wolfed down two servings each, making Vic realize again how depleted they were after the previous night’s events.

“Maybe tonight we can do something normal, like put up Halloween decorations,” Simon suggested.

Vic grinned. “I’d like that. Dibs on inflating the dragon!”

Simon chuckled. “Okay. I’ll handle blowing up the hearse with the vampire. Everyone loves those inflatables.”

Myrtle Beach at Halloween had a small-town feel. Everyone might not actually know each other, but gray skies and an early sunset made for a cozy feel. Vic loved helping Simon decorate the bungalow with purple and orange light strings, spooky skeletons and fake gravestones, and of course, the eight-foot-talldragon with mechanical flapping wings and the life-sized hearse with a vampire in the back rising from a coffin.

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