Tarot: the Fool- Paranormal M/M Romance

Chapter Eight

Zin

**Naughty visions ahead ;D**

David's mocking laughter echoed against the kitchen cabinets just as a vision struck, leaving me staring after him like a dimwit as it took my attention from the Here and Now.

David, his face strained, the cords in his neck bulging as sweat dripped off of his dark skin. His eyes reveling in the eyes of the man beneath him, who met his gaze with equal intensity. They never looked away from each other as the smaller man cried out, his back arching as David's pulsing, thrusting movements grew erratic, and then suddenly his body was taut and still, his own voice breaking in soft grunts. David's eyes fluttered as he gasped, his thick biceps shaking with exertion.

"Zin," David murmured, leaning down to softly and so, so gently lay a kiss on the edge of my fluttering mouth. He muttered something else that I couldn't make out, but oh, I wanted to.

I needed to know. Dear God, I had to know what he had said while he stared into my eyes like I was... precious.

"Zin?" David's almost frustrated echoing of my name brought me back to the present, where I stood staring at the kitchen wall with a dumb smile on my distracted face. From the tone in his voice when he said my name, I could tell it wasn't the first iteration.

"Oh, sorry, yeah?"

He watched me with an annoyed sort of amusement before he shook his head and chuckled. I loved the way he laughed. It was like it came from deep in his belly to crawl its way up his body and out, caressing the length of my skin with its baritone sound, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake

Shit, horny much, Zin?

I didn't know if I'd ever felt like this. I was usually pretty ambivalent towards sex, and attraction. Almost asexual, to be honest, but mostly because I never had to search for it, or fight for it. And if that sounds like bragging, it's pretty much the opposite. I've been pursued by men and women since I was way too young to know what they wanted from me, and so I had never wanted. Never really had a chance to lust after someone.

At least, not like this. This felt like a new beast altogether. Less like lust and more like...

I didn't even know. But David's adamant refusal that I was even someone he could look at sexually was at once reassuring and... disappointing.

Especially now that my vision had shown me a possible future. One I didn't know if I wanted desperately... or dreaded and abhorred.

"You need to rest some more. You can take the bed until your ribs heal, at least. I'm not such an asshole that I would make you sleep on the couch with busted ribs-- ah, ah!" he tutted when I tried to refuse his offer. "You're sleeping on the bed willingly or I'm tying you to it."

Despite the memories that flashed through my mind at his words, or maybe because of them, I couldn't help the flirty grin that twisted my lips. He had lightened the mood with his teasing, broken a little of my tension, so I felt comfortable joking back now.

"Kinky," I drawled, drawing a soft huff of laughter and an eye roll from David.

"Yeah, yeah, cute," he said, shaking his head and moving back around the table to stand in front of me with his hands on his hips.

Unlike me, who might as well have a rainbow flag tattooed on my face, along with the word "fag," David didn't seem gay. Not that there's a specific way that you have to look, or behave, or... oh, you get what I mean. He was ex-military, if my intuition was right, and it always is, and he had masculine written all over him, from his flannels to his tattoos, all the way up to his days' old scruff and tousled, unstyled hair. He screamed straight like I screamed gay. But the way he looked at me in that moment as he hesitated before helping me back to the bed... That look assured me of the truth of his claimed sexual identity.

He was most definitely gay.

And despite what he had said about our ages, he was most definitely interested.

That thought should have scared me. Made me wary, at least a little bit more cautious.

Instead, it titillated and excited me.

And that terrified me. Because, despite the difference in circumstance, I had sworn to myself, to God, to whatever higher power had been listening in my darkest hours that I would never let someone-- man, woman, anyone-- have the kind of power over me I had given to Lyle and to far too many people before him.

And something deep inside me was screaming that the power I would give to David if I gave in to the attraction I felt towards him would be tenfold what Lyle or any of the men before him had wielded. He would break me.