Rowan Lane pounded his fist on the door until he was pretty sure one of his knuckles just popped.
Shit! Oh fuck!
Rowan yanked his hand back, shaking his out, groaning through the pain as he looked back and forth along the hallway he was trapped in.
Trapped like a rat. If someone opened the door at the far end of the hall way, or came out of the elevator, they could shoot him in the head before he would have the chance to run.
It wasn’t as though there were plenty of places to hide in a narrow hall in a place like this.
Didn’t Max have a house? Why the hell did he have to live here? Rowan needed a place to hide, and this seemed like he was too exposed. Too out in the open.
Rowan’s eyes burned as he banged his fist on the door again. “Max! Open the door!”
Please, God, let him open the door.
Rowan was no shifter, he was human, and as skinny as they came, but he could hear the inner workings of the elevator. When he glanced to the side. He saw the digital numbers over the door changing. Someone was in the elevator. Someone was about to step out and they were going to kill him.
Roward pounded on the door with more ferocity. Could he break it down if he really needed to? Probably not. He wasn’t strong enough for that sort of thing.
The elevator stopped on his floor. Rowan froze. He held his breath, waiting to see the scarred man stepp out.
With a ding, the doors parted, and an elderly lady with three tiny dogs stepped out.
Roward was so wound up he couldn’t even bring himself to sigh with relief.
Fuck. That was intense.
The door Rowan pounded on suddenly opened.
Rowan looked. Max stared back at him, his puffy eyes suddenly flying wide at the sight of Rowan standing in his doorstep.
His claws had been out, as though he was planning on slicing up whoever it was that had come to disturb him at four in the morning.
“Yeah.” Rowan wasted no time on any longing memories of the two of them, or how it ended. He pushed his way inside of Max’s apartment and slammed the door shut behind him. He locked it, his body trembling as he struggled for control.
He gasped for breath, pressing his face against the cool wood of the door. He was going to die of a heart attack. He didn’t have to worry about the scarred man coming after him.
Max’s voice, which had previously held a hint of...something, was suddenly hard and unforgiving. There was no hint that Rowan and Max ever used to run in the same circles.
Or shared a bed.
For two years.
“What are you doing here?”
Rowan clenched his teeth. He was safe now. Mostly. He was pretty sure. At the same time, the feeling that he’d just barely managed to escape getting his brains blown out wouldn’t leave him.
He was honestly about to cry. Fuck. That hardly looked very good, did it?
Rowan shook his head. He didn’t want Max to pity him. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
He rubbed at his eyes, trying desperately to push back the burning tears that threatened to come forward.
It was bad enough he was back in Max’s house, but the last thing he wanted was for the man to see him crying.
He wasn’t sure why he cared so much about that. He did have bigger issues to be worried about.
Max grabbed him by the shoulder, forcefully spinning him around. “What happened?”
The look in his eyes was intense. Those dark orbs that Rowarn use to think up stupid poetry in his head about glowed a bright red. “You smell like blood.”
Of course it was going to be the mention of blood that made him lose his cool. Not that he’d been holding himself together that well to begin with, but Jesus.
He let it out. He started to cry, and Rowan didn’t care about how it made him look either. He pushed himself into Max’s arms, held him tight and pressed his face into that strong, powerful chest.
It felt so familiar. This was right where he was supposed to be. He’d missed this. He’d never really let himself believe that until just now, but he’d missed it.
“Rowan?” Max’s arms came around him almost reluctantly. The feel of his large hand in Rowan’s hair brought more memories back, and suddenly, more than anything else, Rowan wanted to get out of his clothes, get Max out of his, and see if they could work together to make him forget his night.
“What happened?” Max asked, his voice softer.
Rowan sniffled. The more he tried to hold back his crying the worst it seemed to get.
“I...I saw them. He was there. He killed him. The others...”
Rowan squirmed in Max’s lap. His cock was shiny with Max’s saliva, and he realized this really was like a dream.
He popped the cap of lube open with his lube. He hoped Rowan couldn’t make out how his hands trembled in the dark as he poured the lube into his palm.
He tried to warm it first before slicing his fingers, and then bringing them down to his hole.
Rowan inhaled sharply, his asshole tightening just a little before Max pushed one fingers inside him.
He was tight. Max didn’t comment on that, but he would definitely be lying if he tried to say it didn’t please him to realize that.
Rowan hadn’t been with anyone in a while. Max wouldn’t go so far as to hope that Rowan hadn’t been with anyone since he’d walked out of Max’s life, but at least there had been no one recently.
“God, yeah. I missed this so much.”
Reviews he was getting were good so far. That was more than he needed to proceed.
Max thrust a second finger inside him, rubbing his inner walls, stroking and thrusting, watching how beautiful his mate was as he thrust his ass back against Max’s fingers.
When Max hooked his fingers and found that sweet spot, because he never forgot where it was, Rowan moaned and came hard. He reached down quickly, as though he couldn’t help himself, stroking his cock hard and fast to prolong his pleasure.
Max was mesmerized. He couldn’t look away while his mate came to his pleasure. The heavy scent of his musk intoxicating him, bringing out that wild side of himself that demanded its mate, demanded they join as one.
That side of himself was also one of the main reasons why Rowan had left him, so be pushed it back deep inside as he pulled his fingers free, lined up the head of his cock, and slid home.
Home was right. God, he’d missed this so much. This was where he belonged. This was his mate, the love of his life. He was going to protect him, he was never going to let him go ever again.
Rowan wrapped his legs around Max’s waist, locking his ankles together. “Move! God, move.”
The sweet heat and clench of him around Max’s cock was perfect. There was nothing else like it. Max had thought he would recreate this feeling with other bodies in his bed, but none of those men had come close to what Rowan was to him.
Everything was just as he remembered it, but somehow so much better. How was that possible?
Rowan moaned. His thighs clenched around Max’s waist, and all the little signals Rowan sent him were the same. The only difference was that Rowan seemed less shy about letting Max know what he wanted. That was very much different from what Max remembered.
“Move. Fuck me. Hurry.”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
That was definitely new. Max did as he was told, and this time he did let a little of his inner wolf out to play. How could he not?
Max growled, slamming his hips forward, Rowan’s body clenching tightly around him with every thrust.
Gripping him, as though reluctant to let him go every time Max pulled back.
So good. So hot and tight. His lover. His mate. Back with him.
“God, I missed you. So fucking much,” Max rasped. He bit down on the side of Rowan’s throat. He didn’t break the skin, but it was more than enough for him to taste, for him to bruise and leave his mark.
Rowan didn’t reply to his words. Max didn’t expect him to. Rowan moaned long and loud when Max bit him, and when Max felt the clench of Rowan’s body one more time, he knew what was coming.
Rowan stroked himself again, his fist moving quickly, almost as though he was trying to time it exactly to Max’s thrusts.
Inspired and close to the edge, Max reached his hand down and curled his fingers around Rowan’s.
Rowan’s eyes popped wide as he gasped. Max took advantage of his parted lips and kissed him, licking him deep as he fucked into his mate, slowing his thrusts, but this time punching his hips forward until their skin slapped together in the air.
Everything came together. It was almost romance novel perfect. Or maybe he just thought so because he was so in love with the man beneath him. Either way, he didn’t care when the rush of orgasm hit him, the building pressure deep inside finally erupting as he spilled deep inside Rowan’s body.
Even after his mate showered, Max’s scent would be on him for days. The thought alone was almost enough to prolong his orgasm, and when Max let out everything he had to give, he damn near collapsed on top of Rowan’s body.
Rowan mew led beneath him, his hips still shifting, searching for more friction, and then he got what he was looking for when Max felt the second rush of warmth between their bodies.
He smiled, his mind and body tired, but he never felt this relaxed, or satisfied, in years.
It was a good feeling to have.