Coal to Diamonds Read Online Free Page B

the boy-next-door face of an actor. To Cole he represented the masculine ideal, the way the Venus de Milo exemplified feminine beauty, or the Parthenon stood as a testament to excellence in architecture.
    As Cole worked stacking balled newspaper among pine twigs, Cam spoke behind him, lullaby-soft. His voice raised gooseflesh up Cole’s spine, the same as a physical caress. “Don’t worry, Cole,” he said. “It did work. I can’t feel his presence at all. We shut him out. How long will it last?”
    “I don’t know,” Cole admitted, striking a match. “Depends how hard he pushes, probably.”
    “He’ll push,” Cam whispered.
    “Yeah, I know.”
    “I’m scared.”
    “I know, Cam. But we’re safe for now.”
    “I’m so cold, Cole.”
    Content his fire would burn, Cole stood and faced Cam. He rested his hands on the back of the sofa, close to Cam’s ears, and leaned in until their noses touched. “I know, baby,” he said, brushing the tip of his nose up the bridge of Cam’s. “You want me to warm you up?”
    Cam nodded, and Cole closed the distance between them. Cam’s lips, his tongue, and even the breath that spilled from his lungs and into Cole’s froze like death. His aura glimmered the color of mint ice cream, but more crystalline and delicate. Its spiky edges poked against Cole’s perception as he lowered his ass to the worn cushion beside his friend. Cole hooked his knees over Cam’s thigh. He stroked his hands down Cam’s face and neck, over his shoulders to his wrists. He summoned fire, as he had when they cast the circle, and directed the heat into his palms. He pressed his left hand against Cam’s belly, just at his tawny triangle of hair, and his right against his heart. From the two chakra points, the warmth would spread easily. Then he kissed him again, opening his mouth wide to fill his friend with the heat of his breath. Cam parted his lips to accept it. His tongue pulsed against Cole’s, and he circled Cole’s nipple with his finger, the chill making it harden almost painfully.
    Cole pressed closer to Cam, sliding up so his ass took the place of his knees on Cam’s thigh and his slim legs dangled between Cam’s. Without moving his hands, Cole let his body fall forward, squashing his arms between Cam’s chest and his own. Cam still felt like a fish plucked from under the ice. His fingers, traveling down the gully between Cole’s stomach muscles, stung. When he grazed Cole’s cock, brushing his fingers from the base to the head, it retreated toward his pelvis instead of stretching toward Cam as it should. Cole guided Cam’s hand away, letting it rest instead on his hip.
    The scent of fresh coffee filled the room, and the fire warmed Cole’s back. But Cam’s chill felt like it could freeze Cole’s skin and tear it off if he pulled away.
    “Gods,” Cole panted, out of breath from infusing Cam with his heat, “you’re fucking freezing.”
    Cam looked broken. “I told you. Nothing takes away the chill. Not even you.”
    Cole didn’t care to be told he couldn’t do something. Cam’s innocent words hid a challenge. Could he assert his influence over Cam’s body and drive out the other? He grasped Cam’s shoulders and pushed them hard against the back of the couch. The blanket fell open. He sidled further up on Cam’s lap, so his prominent hipbone jutted into Cam’s rib. Then he kissed him hard, savagely, thrusting his tongue past Cam’s parted teeth toward the back of his throat. Their mouths filled with the tastes of phosphorous and charcoal. Their teeth banged and scraped. Cole moved his right hand back over Cam’s chest, this time seizing a handful of the thin, blond hair that grew in the center. Cole felt fiercely possessive. Cam and Bobby belonged to him. He was tired of having his sacred things—his home, his forest, and his lovers—infiltrated and usurped one by one. Defiled.
    Cole yanked at the chest hair even as his mouth pushed in the opposite direction,