Call The Coroner – An Excerpt
Tomorrow (12/9) will make it a whole month since I’ve been off social media. Well, Twitter and Facebook. I will likely continue to be gone into the new year. While this post will pop up on my FB/Twitter feed, the only way to contact me is by filling out the Contact Form on here.
Other than that, your girl is Casper.
I do not–repeat Do Not–have a release date for Call the Coroner as yet. I’m working on it though. Oh-weee!
But I do have an excerpt for you.
Talk on the flip side.
WARNING: Unedited Excerpt Ahead. *’nuff things subject to change.*
His body jerked, and his gaze flew from Stavros’ mouth back to his eyes. “Never call me that,” he lashed out.
Every time. Every single time he got in the Greek’s vicinity he lost his calm. Lost his focus. Emotion ruled him. Anger and regret along with the new ones, want and betrayal.
“Why am I still here?” Stavros was the calm one, gaze steady, voice smooth. “Why am I still alive?”
Daniel turned away, giving Stavros his back as he headed for the door. He had to get out of there. His chest felt as if it were caving in. The pressure inside him was building, getting too big, too much to contain. He had to get out.
“Don’t you walk away. Answer me,” Stavros yelled. “Fucking answer me. Give me that.”
“Give you?” Daniel swung around and went right back to him. “Give you?” He pulled his gun from his waist. Trembling. That battle he fought? He was losing. The realization crashed down on him in one swoop. “I should give you? After everything you took from me, I should give you?”
“Yes.” So bold. Defiant. It shouldn’t make Daniel’s pulse stutter.
He’d been dead for years, and this man brought him back to life. His voice. His blood. His eyes. They brought Daniel back to life.
And it was wrong.
This want. It was wrong. But wrong felt so right, thick and warm along his spine.
He put the gun to Stavros’ forehead. Pressed it against him. “You’re alive because you’re mine. Your blood. Your life. Your death. Mine.” Daniel pounded his chest with one hand, the other held the gun pointed at Stavros. Right between the eyes. “Yo decido.” I decide.
The other man just watched him with wide eyes. Accepting.
“I should give you what you gave me.” The words were lava-hot on his tongue. “Sorrow like I’ve never felt. Pain I didn’t think I’d ever escape.” With the way he shook, the gun skidded across Stavros’ forehead, landing at his left temple. “You took her. In the blink of an eye, you took her from me.”
He knew. Of course, he knew what he’d done. The damage he’d caused. The hell he’d unleashed. He knew. “What should I give you then?” Daniel asked in a whisper. “What do I have that you haven’t already taken, Stavros Konstantinou? I have exactly one bullet in this gun. What do you want?”
Stavros stared up at him, teeth in his bottom lip, nostrils flared. The pulse at his throat beat wildly.
Daniel pulled the trigger.
Stavros didn’t flinch.
“What do you want? Respóndeme,” he roared. He was shattering, he heard it. Heard his control fall to the floor at his feet. His grip on the gun was tenuous at best, same as his grip on his sanity. He stared down at the man on that bed.
“Your touch,” Stavros said. His voice, it trembled too. “I want your touch.”
Those words shredded whatever was left inside Daniel. His unsteadiness was apparent as those words rocked him back on his heels. “Do you?” He didn’t blink as he squeezed the trigger again.
Stavros’ lips parted. Lust shadowed his eyes, turned them a dangerous dark. He was captivating with the splash of red on his cheeks and chest. He gripped at the sheet, fisting it and tugging, as his chest rose and fell rapidly.
Daniel’s body throbbed, liking that sight. The monster inside him came alive and clamored for more. “I want to hurt you,” he snarled as he bent, bringing his face down to Stavros’ so they could be nose to nose. “I want to touch you.” He caressed Stavros’ cheek with the length of the gun, holding his head steady with his free hand.
Stavros’ breath sawed out onto Daniel’s lips. He smelled like apple cinnamon, the tea Boyd had been feeding him. He also smelled hot, felt like it, too. Warming Daniel.
He climbed the bed, body almost smothering Stavros as he went in search of that heat.
“I want to kiss you, and I want to kill you.” Mindless. Directionless—or was he? Because his every focus was on Stavros’ face. His destination.
A sound left Stavros. A moan. His unshackled hand, the right, slid up Daniel’s shoulder and grasped him by the nape as they stared at each other.
They panted together. Stavros looked like Daniel felt.
“And I want to bleed you.”
“Do it. Any one of it,” Stavros whispered against Daniel’s chin. “All of it.”
Daniel brought the gun forward, brushing Stavros’ lips with the muzzle. He wanted the other man to stop talking. Stop shattering his defenses. But Stavros simply parted his lips and licked the gun.
Daniel’s breath hitched.
The heat on slow simmer in his belly turned all the way up to boil, and he pushed the gun deeper into Stavros’ mouth. The Greek’s lashes fluttered. Lips stretched around the tip of the gun, he groaned and didn’t stop sucking it.
Restraint went out the window.