[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Romance, Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifter, Vampires/Werewolves, MM, HEA]
John doesn't want a mate. He hopes he is one of the lucky warriors to not have someone waiting for him.
It's too much hassle. Too much pain. He can see the happiness his brothers are having after discovering their mates, but John doesn't see that for himself. Not when there is so much work to be done.
Finding Chris working as a cook in the highway bar he barely pays any attention to was as much of a surprise as realizing the man's scent and body call to John on a primal level that refuses to be ignored.
Someone else refuses to ignore them as well. After biting his mate, marking him, John cannot stay. He will only hurt Chris again, but in his absence, a familiar enemy, and someone entirely new, decide to pay Chris a visit, to threaten and intimidate him, proving that the mate of a warrior can never truly be free.
Marcy Jacks is a Siren-exclusive author.
He had to act calm and collected.
Just because he was seeing someone who looked…exactly like the guy he’d been dreaming about didn’t mean anything. It could be a coincidence.
It didn’t make the fact that he wanted to throw himself at the guy any easier.
And run away from him.
“John!” snapped the big guy.
Chris looked to the truck.
Even he looked familiar, but in a more…distant kind of way. Like he should know him, too.
The guy looked like a gym rat. Huge shoulders, bigger than John’s, with angry, dark eyes. So dark they were almost black.
Unlike John’s eyes. John’s eyes were a nice, deep shade of brown. They reminded Chris of…nature. Of trees and earth. Even his smell came off as something fresh. Like a gust of cool wind. Did the guy just come from a jog in the woods or something?
And why the hell was he still picking up the bags?
“Wait, no, you don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do.” John took the soggy bags to the truck, depositing them through the open window and into the lap of the smaller guy who had been arguing with Sandy.
“What the fuck?”
“You guys go on without me. I’ll be…right here.”
Both men looked at him like he was nuts.
Chris’s heart slammed around in his chest like it was trying to bust out. As if a face hugger got him and now the little alien baby was trying to rip its way out of his chest.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
He couldn’t decide if he wanted to run, or stay right where he was, and the uncertainty was making a cold sweat break out over all over his body.
“Are you serious?” asked the big guy, his arm up on the wheel. “John, you can’t just fuckin’—”
“I said go without me. I got something to take care of here. I’ll get back on my own. Don’t worry about me. Go take care of…” He gestured to the blond in the passenger seat.
That seemed to be enough for John’s friend, who put the truck in reverse.
“Keep your phone turned on.”
John nodded, waving them off as they backed out of the small parking lot and turned onto the highway, driving away.
Leaving Chris standing there with…John.
John, the man he’d been looking for his whole life.
He felt like he should say something, especially when John turned back to look at him, those eyes intent.
They were soft, there was nothing dangerous in them, but the guy looked like he would chase Chris down if he even thought about making a run for it.
“So…just John? You got a last name or something?”
“Dupuis,” he said. “John Dupuis.”
He had no idea what he was saying, and he was pretty sure he sounded like a dumbass.
John nodded. The guy stood tall. He looked about Chris’s same height, but he was broader in the shoulders, and definitely looked like he could bench press a truck if he wanted to.
Christ felt scrawny and…so normal compared to him.
This larger-than-life figure he’d seen so many times over the course of his life.
“I…have so many questions,” Chris said.
John nodded, stepping forward.
“Chris! Get in here!”
Chris jumped, looking back. Billy. The dickhead.
Chris glared at him for ruining the moment. Whatever that moment was supposed to be.
He looked at John, the mysterious someone he’d been searching for, then back at Billy, the dishwasher who worked in the same greasy spoon for less than Chris did.
“You can handle the deep frying for a little while.”
Billy looked at him like he was crazy. “What? Are you crazy? I can’t cook!”
“It’s just chicken fingers and fries. Anyone else wants my lasagna or whatever, it’s already made and portioned. Just heat it up. I’m…taking the rest of the day off.”
“Fuck you, you’re not. You can’t leave me here!”
Sandy was with him. Chris didn’t think he would get fired either. It wasn’t as though there were a whole slew of people waiting to bust down the doors of this place to get work.
He was taking such a risk. He was behind on so much of his shit, his phone was about to get turned off…but he needed this.
“You can take my tips for the day. It’s not that busy.” Chris pulled off his apron, handing it to Billy.
The dishwasher didn’t get a share of tips, so Billy was suddenly looking more interested. “Yeah?”
“Yes. The soups are made and hot. Just tell Sandy not to recommend anything that requires a lot of prep.”
Billy shrugged, putting on the apron. “All right, man, your funeral.”
Chris thought that was a little over the top. He was just skipping out on his last half of the shift. He wasn’t exactly spitting in the owner’s face.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. Billy went back inside, and Chris was left alone with—
Whatever thoughts, whatever words Chris wanted to say, were gone from his mouth and his brain when he found himself getting picked up off his feet. He thought he was being mugged, that the guy he’d let himself fantasize about was going to beat him up.
Not that he had any reason to think that, but the idea went through his head anyway.
Until he realized what was happening.
They were running. John had picked him up and he was running with Chris.
Chris, who wasn’t exactly light as a feather. John ran with him as if he weighed nothing.
As if John had some super human strength on his side.
Freaky. And wrong.
What the fuck?
Chris was overcome with the idea that he’d made a huge mistake, that this wasn’t so safe and he needed to get the hell out of here. Away from this psycho.
“Stop it! Put me down!”
“Shut up,” John growled.
It was the sound of his voice that really made Chris stop struggling. He shouldn’t have. This guy that he didn’t know was taking him into the woods, far and away from the bar, where anyone could walk or drive by.
Far away from any possible witnesses.
That alone was enough to terrify him.
But he couldn’t move. As though that command had triggered something primal inside him, the need to obey, to respond and respect a stronger male…Chris didn’t move. He didn’t say a word.
He just let this guy take him.
He really hoped he wasn’t going to get himself killed over a goddamn dream.
So good. Chris had never been kissed like this before. He’d never hungered for someone else’s mouth the way he did with John.
He’d never moaned into a kiss before. His dick had never throbbed like he was on the verge of coming before he’d bothered touching himself.
He thrust up and against the other man, humping him like a wild animal, needing the friction, and loving the feel of John’s monster cock pulsing against his own.
He was so damned big, but Chris wasn’t scared. He was pretty sure he could handle anything that was thrown at him. He could take having it inside him.
Even if it hurt, he wanted it. He wanted to know what it felt like to finally be complete for the first time in his life.
Did he really try running away from this guy an hour ago? That seemed a little crazy. Why would he ever do something like that when this felt so good?
John moaned, thrusting back against him, the both of them moving and kissing like horny teenagers until John moaned, a low, deep sound in his throat.
“Baby, you’re going to make me come.”
“Yeah, that’s the point.” Chris felt drunk on pleasure, and as a result, he also felt a little braver than he normally would. He felt like he could do and say anything and everything would be all right.
Because he was in John’s arms, because he wasn’t crazy. There had been someone. Someone just for him, and having John on top of him was the best high he could have sought out.
John growled a little again, reaching down and taking Chris’s hips in hand. “Not yet, honey,” he said, but then lowered himself, sliding half off the bed.
It was so damned small. Chris was so embarrassed, but when John’s knees were on his old floor, his huge body leaning over the bed, his mouth a ghostly whisper away from Chris’s cock, that embarrassment left him.
Leaving nothing but lust.
“Let me take care of you.”
“But—” Chris sucked back a hard breath, throwing his head back as John’s hot mouth suddenly engulfed his cock.
Chris fell back onto the bed, the old, metal springs groaning beneath his weight and the sudden movement, but then there was nothing else but the heat and the pleasure as John took him all the way into his mouth.
So good. So good. So fucking good.
“Th-That’s…oh my God,” he moaned, reaching up and grabbing his thin pillow. Chris smothered himself with it, trying to not make any noises on sheer instinct.
He was used to keeping quiet when getting off. Even when he’d had girlfriends. There had always been roommates to worry about, always been thin walls and neighbors to think of.
Now was no exception. He didn’t know if that little old lady was home, and even though he’d joked earlier, he didn’t want to scandalize her.
She seemed nice enough.
But fuck her and her dumb little dog because the pressure and heat on his cock was so tight, so wet, so hot, that he couldn’t help but make some noise.
Chris couldn’t stop himself. It was perfect. He wanted more. He needed more. He needed to come and he needed to do it inside John’s mouth.
John leaned down some more, and Chris arched his back, moaning long and loud when he felt that he was being deep throated.