Page 15 of Angels of the Night

CHAPTER 11

Tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, Zachary turned around, heading to the guards' dorms as he initially intended, hoping his presence passed unnoticed. Rage, sorrow, yearning, and a thousand other emotions he didn't even have a name for stormed inside the man, threatening to destroy the fragile balance he fought so hard to maintain for the past six years.

The most bitter irony of Zachary's life was that the man he hoped to help him heal his emotional scars was in love with the one who inflicted those wounds on his soul. Caleb had given his heart to that cold, calculated bastard, he’d taken it and then abandoned the young man, who didn't know what to think anymore. The thought of helplessly watching how that man was playing with Caleb's feelings, without having a say in the matter, drove Zachary crazy.

He took a few more steps into the guards' dorms when Brennan's voice made him stop. The man knew what The Base's second-in-command wanted and ignoring him would have been impolite, so he had no choice but to turn around.

“Yes, Boss, do you want to tell me something? I saw you all gathered here to greet your very important guest, and I didn't want to embarrass you with my presence.” Zachary tentatively smiled in Caleb's and Brennan's direction, then gave Saint a cold, piercing stare.

“I'm happy to finally meet the man everyone is talking about, the hero who saved this little fellow here.” The newcomer's voice was flat, but Zachary could sense the note of surprise and see how shocked Saint was by his presence there.

“Is it only me, or do the two of you know each other?” Everyone turned their heads to Lothier, the one who asked the question. “It looks like you have a past together, and if yes, inquiring minds want to know.”

“For a short while, we were assigned to the same case, when I was working in the CIA. Back then, this man went by the name of Llewellyn Saint-James, and he had quite an impact on my career.” Zachary's voice was low and calm, with a slight tinge of irony. “Talk to you in the morning, now I'm going to bunk up for the night.”

“Do you mind if I accompany you? We need to talk. Please.” Saint's voice was pleading and desperate as he tried to keep up with the Zachary's quick pace.

The other man walked in silence the rest of the way to the guards' dorms, ignoring his companion's tentative attempts to start a conversation. Once inside the room, the door locked behind them, Zachary slammed Saint against the wall, cupping his face with both hands. After intensely staring at him for a moment, he raked both hands through the messy, medium-long, dirty-blond strands, grabbing two fistfuls of them.

One knee between Saint's legs, Zachary crushed his former lover's lips with his own, ravaging the man's mouth with a long, harsh, dominating kiss. With the tip of his tongue, he parted the other's lips, exploring his mouth with burning urgency. Saint moaned under Zachary's actions, but the growl coming as a response warned him the kiss was a punishment, a device for him to let out everything he kept inside over the past seven years.

He sunk his teeth into the lower lip of the one he once loved but couldn't bring himself to hurt him, not even then, when the man was under his control. Zachary mentally cursed Saint for having such a great power over him, even then, after such a long time, and he also cursed himself for being so weak. He reprised the kiss, but the intensity, the fire, the hatred weren't the same.

Sweeping his gaze up and down Saint's body, Zachary slid both hands under the man's shirt, roughly running them up and down his body. A grin of satisfaction spread on his face when, with the tip of his fingers, he touched the other one's nipples. Zachary's whole attention went to the two tender bits of flesh, which he pinched, twisted, rolled and tugged at until they became perky and pebble-hard.

Saint locked eyes with Zachary, his gaze filled with lust, desire and longing. He felt the urge to take the other man in his arms and hold him tight until all the pain, anger and sorrow went away. However, Saint was aware it wasn't going to happen any time soon, so he waited for Zachary to continue punishing him.

The other man couldn't stand the look in his ex-lover's eyes, and, in a low, cold voice, he ordered him to turn around and spread his legs. Hands roaming over Saint's firm, perfectly shaped ass, Zachary imagined the man submitting to him, his cock reacting to the images inside his head. He pressed Saint against the wall, unbuckling his belt and undoing the fly to his jeans but suddenly backed down and plopped on the bed, head in hands.

“Damn you and the horse you ride on, Llewellyn Saint-James! I can't do this, not even to a traitorous bastard like you!” Zachary hatefully spat the words, shooting daggers in the other one's direction.

“What happened to you? Where have you been during all this time? I've been looking for you everywhere, but you vanished without a trace.” Saint sat on the edge of the bed, not very close to Zachary, but not too far, either.

“I took your advice and had a good rest, then, with a clear mind, I decided I no longer needed you in my life. I only recently realized I could have stayed. I had no other friends who risked being tortured by your accomplices.” Zachary's voice changed from ironic to defeated.

“I wish I could turn back the time and disobey the direct orders, if this could change Cedric's fate. Indeed, the two of you were betrayed by someone you both trusted, but that person wasn't me. I'm going to prove that if you allow me to.” Saint's voice, hesitant at the start, became passionate when he said the last part.

“I'm tired, and tomorrow will be another long, busy day. I'm sure that you could use a good rest, too. So what about you go to wherever you live and leave me alone to catch some sleep?” Zachary's voice was patronizing, like he would have talked to a teen instead of a grown-up man.

Nodding, Saint rose to his feet and headed to the door, but after a few steps, he turned around, went back to the bed and, kneeling in front of the other man, started to undress him by removing his jacket and shirt. These actions met no opposition from Zachary's part, who sat on the edge of the bed, inert like a rag doll.

Raising his head, Saint locked his eyes with the other man, asking for permission to continue undressing him, but Zachary averted his gaze and, after taking his pants and underwear off, climbed onto the bed. Hands folded under his head, eyes closed, he stayed like that, his body exposed to Saint's hungry eyes.

Confused, the man hesitated to join his ex-lover in bed, not knowing how to interpret his attitude but finally took advantage of the silent invitation. With quick, short motions, he peeled his clothes off and climbed on the bed, inching the space between him and Zachary. Saint's first, tentative touches were met with indifference, but he persevered and soon, the other man's muscles started to relax with each brush of lips or fingertips over the uniformly tanned skin.

It was going to take quite a time, and more than a few delicate touches and kisses to bring Zachary back to life, but Saint was determined to make his former lover feel again, to make him open up and let all the pain and the sorrow out. He had to gain the other man's trust, to convince him that it was Phillip Winters who betrayed them back then.

Zachary unfolded his hands, bringing them above his head in a gesture of total submission and spread his legs wide apart, staring into the ceiling. That man was there for his body, and he was going to get it, especially if that was the only way of keeping him away from Caleb. The young man didn't deserve to have his innocence stolen and his soul crushed by the man who did the same to him. Well, except the innocence part, Zachary ironically thought, it was ripped apart long before Llewellyn Saint-James came into his life.

He registered the other man preparing him, then pushing inside his body, inch after inch, slowly, gently, carefully. However, Saint's manifestations of tenderness didn't mean anything for Zachary, everything was part of the game he became so good at over the years. The man started to move, meeting Saint's thrusts, whimpering and moaning, doing all the right things, although he didn't feel anything.

Zachary closed his eyes, immune to his partner's gentle, barely there touches and sweet words, pretending he wasn't there, waiting for everything to be over. It could be worse, he thought. Other men could have waited to take their turn at him, after promising they wouldn’t harm his young, inexperienced, naive partner. At least this time, Zachary thought, tears clouding his vision, Caleb will be safe, his innocence protected.

Saint released a strangled cry, shooting his load deep into his lover's ass, while the other man came over his fist, hiding his face in embarrassment. It wasn't supposed to be like that, he wasn't suppose to enjoy it, Zachary mentally scolded himself, while Saint gently cleaned him up, smiling.

“You got what you came for, now leave me alone, so I can sleep. I'm willing to give you a chance, as long as you don't parade our relationship around. Also, no touchy-feely shit, you know I can't stand those things.” Zachary's voice was calm, but it lacked any trace of emotion.

“Would you mind if I spent the night with you? Sleeping together, hugging, nothing more?” Saint slowly ran his index down the other man's spine, but he didn't react to the touch in any way. “I mean, we are together again, at least this is what you said earlier or did you change your mind?” Saint's voice was hesitant again, much to Zachary's delight.

“Sure you can, I don't remember kicking you out. Since you brought this boyfriend thing into discussion, there are a few things I need to make clear. First, Zev Abramsky ceased to exist almost seven years ago, my name is Zachary, no matter if we are in public or private. Second, you must talk to Caleb, tell him you are seeing another man. I'll do the same.” Zachary rolled on one side, so he could face Saint and see the look in his eyes.

“I...I'll talk to the kid, sure. It's the right thing to do. I shouldn't have mislead him at the beginning, it only complicated things.” The man covered his mouth, realizing what he just said. “Sorry, that sounded horrible, I know.”

“It sounded...like you.” Zachary smiled, turning his back to the other man. “Good night, Llewellyn. You need to sleep.”

Saint planted a butterfly kiss on his lover's neck, wrapping an arm around his waist. With the pad of his thumb, he started to caress the scars marring the man's wrists. Most likely, they were a direct result of the events from almost seven years earlier, he thought, heart heavy with pain and regret. Suddenly, the realization hit Saint with the force of a hurricane, making him freeze.

Llewellyn. Zachary hadn’t put the past behind them, on the contrary. For him, it was more alive than ever, and he intended to make Saint pay for everything he was put through. The lovemaking from earlier didn't mean anything to Zachary, the other man realized, tears streaming down his face. He should have known, should have been able to tell genuine from fake but wanted so badly to believe in that new beginning, ignoring all the other signs.

And here he was, trapped by the promise that he would break up with Caleb and caught in the web of deceit and lies, woven around him by a man who pretended to love him but who was his greatest enemy. Saint hadn’t felt so alone, hurt and betrayed in his entire life.

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