keep you safe.”
Patrick let out a hollow laugh. “Do you know who I saw in the cemetery last night? Hannah. News flash, Jono. I’m never safe.”
Patrick yanked open the door, and Jono hooked an arm around his waist to haul him away from it. The door closed on its own, and Jono ignored Patrick’s elbow digging into his side and the swearing in order to push him up against the wall and frame his face with both hands.
“Did she hurt you?” Jono asked in a low, furious voice. Anger and fear made Jono nauseous at the thought of Patrick facing his family alone. Because the thought of losing Patrick was a nightmare Jono never wanted to know.
Patrick’s words, when he spoke, were like poison, flaying Jono worse than silver and aconite ever could. “I don’t know.”
The blankness of Patrick’s expression was a mask Jono hated to see. It left Jono gutted, and he raised a hand to cup Patrick’s face, but his hand was knocked aside.
“Don’t,” Patrick snapped.
“I’m sorry,” Jono said, at a loss for words and not wanting to argue if it meant Patrick would stay. “Just don’t go. Please.”
Jono leaned down and kissed Patrick with a fierceness that made their teeth clack together. Patrick let him, didn’t pull away, hesitating only a second before kissing him back with the same intensity.
“I’m sorry,” Jono breathed out like a litany of prayers between kisses. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“But you aren’t sorry for not calling me.”
Jono slid his hands down Patrick’s body to grab his arse and pull him into his arms, nipping at his bottom lip. “Already said I was.”
“Not about Lucien,” Patrick said, kissing him back.
Jono carried him back to the bed that didn’t have his duffel bag on it. Housekeeping must have been by, because it’d been made up and the rubbish everywhere taken away. “I’ll make it up to you.”
He dropped Patrick onto the bed, following him down, chasing after his mouth. Patrick’s arms wrapped around his neck to hold him there, trying to breathe with the help of Jono’s lungs. The soulbond hummed between them, stronger than it had been when they’d had so much distance between them.
He rolled his hips, dragging his clothed cock against Patrick’s. They both groaned, and Patrick tore his mouth free, throwing his head back, giving Jono room to kiss his throat. Patrick’s shields had been taken down, and Jono could finally breathe in the strangely bitter scent that meant home to him.
“Didn’t pack lube,” Patrick groaned when Jono worked a hand under his arse to lift him into the roll of Jono’s hips again.
“I did,” Jono muttered against his skin. Patrick grabbed his hair and gave it a good yank, the quick sting in Jono’s scalp making him smile.
“Then fucking go get it.”
Letting Patrick go took effort, and Jono didn’t manage to get off the bed for another minute. Patrick’s mouth and his scent were too enticing, but he finally made it to his duffel bag. Jono found the lube in thirty seconds, which was about the same amount of time it took Patrick to remove his combat boots, dagger, and pistol. The boots stayed on the floor while the weapons were put on the desk.
Jono stole a kiss on his way to the window to shut the curtains. Not that anyone would be able to see in through the heavily falling snow, but he wasn’t willing to put Patrick on display for anyone. He turned back to the bed, stripping out of his shirt and tossing it on the floor. His jeans and underwear followed seconds later. Patrick was down to his underwear, which Jono helped pull off before kneeling down to suck the tip of Patrick’s cock into his mouth.
Patrick’s hips jerked upward, and Jono pressed him back down onto the bed with one firm hand. He swallowed Patrick down to the root, dragging his tongue over sensitive skin. Fingers tangled in his hair, pulling again as Patrick tried to strain upward, his heels digging into Jono’s back.
“Fuck. Fuck,” Patrick bit out, his entire body tense.
Jono pulled off, turning his head to bite gently at Patrick’s inner left thigh before straightening up. He pulled Patrick’s legs off his shoulders and crawled over him, hauling Patrick with him farther up the bed. Patrick distracted him by biting one nipple and scraping blunt fingernails over the other.
“Bloody tease,” Jono grunted.
“Fuck you. I’m not the one who needs to apologize.”
Jono uncapped the lube and poured it over his fingers. He