Thanksgiving fic: What Hides Inside excerpt

Because I am up to my eyeballs in dealines right now, I was unable to find time for a brand new story for Thanksgiving. So, y’all are getting an excerpt from What Hides Inside, book 2 in the Bay City Paranormal Investigations series. This takes place on Thanksgiving so I guess it fits *g*

A bit of angst, a bit of awwww, a bit of hotness. Enjoy!

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Sam spent a long, restless night in an agony of apprehension. His mind kept conjuring scenes of Bo dragging a confession out of Dean. The mental picture of Bo’s face filling with hurt and anger knotted Sam’s stomach. The worst part of it was that he didn’t know which would upset Bo most—that he’d had sex with Dean, or that Dean knew Bo was gay.

Just before dawn, Sam gave up on sleeping. Kicking the covers aside, he dragged himself out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. After relieving himself and brushing his teeth, Sam briefly considered lounging around in his underwear all day. He swiftly dismissed the idea as sad and pathetic.

Heading back into the bedroom, he put on a pair of well-worn jeans and a long-sleeved Radiohead T-shirt. His mother would’ve frowned and ordered him to change, he thought, smiling as he sauntered into the kitchen.

While the coffee brewed, he leaned against the counter, head swimming with exhaustion. He laughed, the sound rough and devoid of humor.

“Happy fucking Thanksgiving,” he muttered to the dirty dishes in the sink.

A few minutes later, he settled into the chair by the window with a huge mug of lethally strong coffee. Outside, the faint light revealed a gray and dreary sky. It fit Sam’s mood. Whatever happened, Sam knew he had no one to blame but himself. He accepted that. But it didn’t make it any easier to face the possibility of losing his last chance with Bo.

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin when someone banged on his door, rattling it in its frame. Cursing under his breath, he glanced at the clock and frowned. Who the fuck shows up at six in the morning on Thanksgiving? He set his coffee mug on the windowsill and hurried to the door.

Peering through the peephole, Sam was startled to see Bo standing in the hall, lips pressed into a thin line and dark eyes shooting sparks. Sam’s stomach plummeted into his feet. “Oh shit,” he whispered as Bo raised a fist and started pounding on the door again.

“I know you’re in there, Sam!” Bo shouted. “Open this fucking door right now.”

For a second, Sam seriously debated whether letting Bo in would be wise. The man was clearly furious, and Sam didn’t relish being on the receiving end of Bo’s anger. He knew from experience Bo packed a powerful punch.

If he wants to hit you, he sure as hell has a right to, after what you did. Licking his suddenly dry lips, Sam slid back the deadbolt and swung the door open.

“Bo, I—”

“Shut up.” Pushing past Sam, Bo swept into the apartment and turned to Sam with a dangerous fire in his eyes. “Did you?”

Sam saw no point in delaying the inevitable by pretending he didn’t know what Bo meant. “Yes,” he said softly as he shut the door. “It was a huge mistake. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Bo let out a harsh laugh. “You’re sorry. You told me it wasn’t about sex, no, not at all, it was about us being together openly. And yet the minute I call it off, you fuck the first guy who’ll have you. And you’re sorry.”

“I am.” Sam kept himself still, his voice carefully calm. “You have every right to be angry with me.”

“Do I?” Shaking his head, Bo started pacing in a tight circle. “I don’t know. I broke up with you, after all. Hell, I told you to go out with Dean. But I am angry, whether I have a right to be or not. I just can’t stand the thought of you with someone else.”

“Neither can I.” Taking a cautious step forward, Sam brushed his fingers against Bo’s upper arm. “What happened with Dean just proved to me that I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Bo jerked away from Sam’s touch. He resumed pacing, gaze locked on the floor. Swallowing his hurt, Sam backed up and leaned against the wall, waiting for whatever Bo would do next.

“I had a feeling, you know?” Bo said, his voice low and ragged. “Just the way you looked at each other yesterday. I wanted to know. That’s why I asked him to stay. So I could find out.”

“You asked him?”

“No. I wanted to. But I couldn’t. So I made up some bullshit about wanting to know how he thought he was doing so far in his job.” Bo shook his head, his lips curling into a sad smile. “He saw right through that. Said he knew what was going on, that you and he had…” Bo’s voice faltered. “He said that he was only a substitute for me. That I was the one you wanted, not him.”

Sam stared, at a loss for words. He wanted to be angry with Dean, but couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but gratitude. Dean, he realized, must have told Bo in order to force the man into drastic action. It sure as hell worked.

“He’s right,” Sam confessed, watching Bo closely. “I used him, because I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to be with you, and I couldn’t. I needed to forget you right then, so I took Dean to bed. But it didn’t work. It didn’t make me forget you, it just made me want you more.”

Bo twirled the end of his braid around one finger. “I can’t believe Dean wasn’t angry with you.”

“He knew what I was doing even before I did. And he told me if I loved you, I should fight for you.” Sam deliberately left out the part about Bo loving him back. If it was true, he wanted Bo to say it.

“You said you loved me before,” Bo whispered. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Sam answered without hesitation. “I won’t ask you the same. But, Bo, can you forgive me? Can we try again?”

Bo stood silently staring at the floor, and Sam’s heart sank. He couldn’t blame Bo for not being able to forgive him, but it hurt anyway. It took every ounce of strength he possessed to keep from falling to his knees at Bo’s feet and begging him to give them just one more chance.

Sam had no idea how long they stood there like that, not looking at each other, not speaking. It felt like forever. Finally, Bo raised his head and stalked over to stand toe-to-toe with Sam. His eyes burned, and Sam could see the rapid pulse fluttering in his throat.

“I hate you for doing this to me.” Bo’s voice shook.

Sam blinked against the stinging behind his eyelids. “I’m so fucking sorry, Bo. I’d take it back if I could.”

Bo raised a hand, and for a moment Sam thought he was going to hit him. He braced himself, holding Bo’s gaze. When Bo laid his trembling palm against Sam’s cheek, thumb caressing the corner of his mouth, Sam’s knees went weak with relieved surprise.

“I thought I could live without you,” Bo whispered. “But I can’t. I can’t. And I hate you for that. For making me love you.”

A strangled sob burst from Sam’s throat. “Christ, Bo…”

They moved at the same time, mouths fusing together in a hard, desperate kiss. Sam cupped Bo’s head in one hand, using the other arm to pull their bodies together. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, swallowing Bo’s soft little moans. Bo clutched him close, one hand fisted in his hair and the other sliding down to knead his ass.

“God, Sam,” Bo breathed. “I need you.”

Electricity surged through Sam’s veins. “Anything. Anything you want.”

“Let’s make love.”

The raw need in Bo’s voice made Sam’s chest tight. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t really want.”

Bo’s lips brushed Sam’s jaw. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, but I was afraid.” He pressed closer, the unmistakable evidence of his arousal digging into Sam’s thigh. “I’m not afraid anymore. I’m ready.”

The thought of making love to Bo was enough to bring Sam achingly erect in the space of a heartbeat. He kissed Bo again, very gently, hands stroking down Bo’s back. “I’ll make it good for you. I promise.”

“I know.” Bo groaned when Sam’s hand slipped between his legs, tracing his hardness through the worn denim. “Just…let’s go slow, okay? I’ve never… No one’s ever done that, I haven’t even…touched myself that way.”

The fact that Bo was willing to bottom for him made Sam’s head swim. As much as he wanted it, though, he wanted something else more.

“Maybe another time,” Sam whispered. “Right now, I need you inside me.”

A shudder ran through Bo’s body. “Jesus.” He leaned against Sam’s chest, his heart pounding so hard Sam could feel it. “Take me to bed, before I fall down.”

Written by Ally Blue

Ally is a rich and famous author of hot gay manlove. She travels the world in her private jet, being waited on hand and foot by her team of pretty young men who bring her umbrella drinks and make out for her pleasure . . . Okay, so that's her dream life. Her novels of Manlove & Angst are mostly written in her living room, in between working at the Evil Day Job and doing Mom Stuff. Oh, the glamorous life of an author!
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