Closer: Bay City Paranormal Investigation, Book 4

lovemaking. It was fucking, rough bordering on violent, and it left him hollow. “This isn’t normal. You can’t pretend it is.”
Bo rolled onto his side. His eyes opened, and their icy regard made Sam wish he’d left them closed. “It’s just sex, Sam. Just a little rough sex. Maybe I want that once in a while.”
Sam blinked, surprised. “You do?”
Wincing, Bo pushed to a sitting position and climbed to his feet. He stood there swaying, his nude body glistening with sweat and semen. “I’m not a china doll. I won’t break. I’m sick of you treating me like some delicate little toy.”
Sam’s mouth fell open. “What the fuck? I’ve never done that.”
“You’re doing it right now! Sitting there telling me I’m not normal for wanting you to be rough with me sometimes—”
“I didn’t say that, dammit!”
Bo plowed on as if Sam hadn’t spoken. “And telling me I’m not fit to work just because of a few nightmares and…and things.” His hands clenched into quick fists, then relaxed. “And, and now you’re ignoring the fact that there was no portal activity at Fort Medina until you showed up, and trying to make out like I’m somehow causing it. You’re the focus, Sam, you’re the one with the fucking psychokinesis, not me. But oh no, Bo has a bad reaction to a virus so that must mean it’s his fault. Well, fuck that, Sam, it’s you causing it, not me! You’re the one with an ability you won’t even consider getting rid of, not me. Maybe it gives you a power rush to know you can manipulate those portals. Is that it? Huh? You like the power rush?” His voice, which had been rising, dropped to a husky whisper. He cupped his balls in one hand, his cold gaze turning soft and sultry. “You sure seemed to like fucking me till it hurt. I bet that’s it. You get off on power, don’t you?”
Sam gaped, speechless in the face of Bo’s increasingly paranoid and nonsensical rant. If he hadn’t been worried about Bo before, this would’ve done it. He had no idea what to say or do, if he should try to placate Bo or talk sense into him. He was out of his depth, afraid to say a word or make a move for fear of how Bo might react.
God, is he turning psychotic? What the fuck do I do?
He was saved from having to act by Bo turning on his heel and stalking out of the room, still naked. “Don’t bother coming to bed,” Bo sneered over his shoulder. “I don’t want to look at you right now.”
Bo’s bare feet thudded up the stairs. The bedroom door squeaked open and slammed so hard the sound echoed through the house.
Sam sat there staring at the painting of a sailing ship cutting through stormy seas hanging on the opposite wall. He felt numb and shell-shocked. Bo was acting irrationally, without a doubt, but some of the things he’d said had a ring of truth Sam couldn’t ignore.
Had he really dismissed Bo’s fears to the extent Bo claimed? Had he truly been that insensitive to Bo’s desire to see him safe from the portals? And what about Bo’s unexpected confession that he liked near-brutal sex sometimes? Had Bo been giving him clues all along, and he just hadn’t seen?
Did he really know so little about the man he claimed to love?
“God, I can’t think about this right now.” Pushing to his feet, Sam snatched the discarded pajama pants off the floor, un-wadded them and tugged them on. He shuffled into the kitchen and wet a hand towel under the faucet. Back in the living room, he scrubbed the congealing spunk off the rug. Leaving the towel wadded up on the floor, he curled up on the sofa and turned on the TV to drown out his racing thoughts.
Worn out with worry, hurt and fear, Sam slept. If the nightmares came, he didn’t remember them.
    He woke to the sound of the front door opening and hushed voices coming closer. He sat up and squinted at the clock on the VCR. It read three thirty a.m.
    Cecile stopped, eyes widening when she saw Sam. “My God, Sam, what happened to you?”
“What to do you mean?” He yawned, grimacing when the twinge in his lip reminded him of what had happened earlier.
“Your lip’s split,” David pointed out, setting a camera case in the corner. He grinned. “What, did you and Bo get in a fist fight or something?”
“Not exactly.” Sam turned his face away when Cecile sat beside him and tried to get a better look at his mouth. “It’s okay. It’s nothing.”
“Not if Bo’s the one who did that, it isn’t.” Grabbing his chin in a firm grip, Cecile