In Surprising a Perfect Mate, straitlaced accountant Vance Ramsey doesn’t like surprises. When he finds a hunky blond surfer naked in his office, he’s beyond flustered. Skylar Bruedigan is as free-spirited as they come, but when he gets a good look at the handsome number cruncher, he decides to get serious about getting in the man’s pants.
In Enticing a Dangerous Mate, finding a naked, injured, and compellingly sexy man on his cattle ranch prompts Marshal Robert’s compassion, but when Elliot claims he has amnesia, Marshal’s sympathy turns to suspicion. Issues with a homophobic lawman have Marshal thinking the situation is a setup. Determined to get the truth, Marshal takes Elliot captive.
In Claiming a Betrayed Mate, it’s been ten years since Jake Tanner has seen Nathan McAllister, but their bad breakup doesn’t seem to matter to Jake’s lust. Apparently a broken heart plays second fiddle to his alpha need to claim his mate.
SURPRISING A PERFECT MATE
There was a naked man in Vance Ramsey’s office. A young and exceedingly handsome man with straw-colored hair that appeared bleached by a unique combination of sun and salt-water surf. He looked as if he’d walked right off a Southern California beach and dropped into the massive chair behind Vance’s desk. His body certainly possessed the sculpted perfection of an avid surfer, and he had a flawless allover tan. Not one single white spot broke up the long line of his form, including his hips and…other bits. Vance deliberately tore his gaze away, but he found himself wondering if this man surfed in the nude. That seemed strangely dangerous to Vance. But given the fact he was a decided non–risk taker, he really wouldn’t know if that was considered eccentric in the culture of—
The young man sneezed, drawing Vance’s attention back to him. His eyes blinked open so slowly Vance thought he was watching a film that had been decelerated for dramatic impact. Whoever he was, he had eyes that were so vividly azure blue they were mesmerizing. When his intense gaze settled on Vance, the man who never took a risk swallowed hard, and fought an urge to step forward and claim the man as his own. The very idea was so bizarre it stopped Vance in his tracks. Vance didn’t know him, and he certainly didn’t intend to get wrapped up in some crazy scheme. That had to be what this was. Some of the cowboys on the Rough River Ranch had gotten together to play this prank on him. Somehow, they’d gotten deep into the secret part of Vance’s lust and brought his cravings to life. The man in his chair was down-to-the-last-detail perfect for him. Well, perfect in appearance, at any rate. Vance had always liked diminutive blonds. Still, he wasn’t about to get involved with anyone. Not when he had finally gotten his life organized. Everything hada time and a place, and there were absolutely no surprises.
“Where am I?”
His voice was low and soothing, almost like the sound of waves lapping at the shore. Vance decided the man had a voice he could listen to for days on end. He could recite his grocery list, and Vance would be rapt with attention. Even now, after three simple words, Vance felt his cock harden below the fabric of his tailored suit.
“Hello?” He waved his hand as if to capture Vance’s attention when he was already riveted. “Where am I?”
Vance just stood there with his mouth open and his brain a million miles away. It was difficult to think when all the blood in his body was rushing to his cock. “Where are you?”
“I asked you first.” A slow grin lifted the edges of his exceedingly perfect lips. “Don’t you know where we are, either?”
Vance considered how to answer that. Technically this beautiful man was in the western spiral arm of the Milky Way galaxy. From there he was on planet Earth, in North America, the United States, Utah, and then the Rough River Ranch. All of that shot through Vance’s head in a nanosecond, but what came out of his mouth was, “You’re in my office.”
When the naked man looked around the room, Vance followed his gaze. Since his office was in the farmhouse, it was converted from what Vance suspected used to be a parlor of some sort. The ceiling was a good fifteen feet high. There was wainscoting around the walls that were flocked with wallpaper in a garish combination of brown, red, and yellow. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases were filled with a solid collection of fiction, reference, and some textbooks. There were three doors. One door led to the inner hall, the second to a private bathroom, and the third opened to the front porch of the massive house. The room only had one window, and it was open because Vance had forgotten to shut it yesterday. But what dominated the room was the massive oak desk and the huge green leather chair that the sexy stranger was sitting in.
“Who are you?” he asked, now turning his incisive gaze onto Vance once again.
Another long list of answers spilled through his gray matter but he said, “I’m Vance Ramsey, accountant for the Rough River Ranch.”
The look the young man gave Vance mingled disbelief and curiosity. “You’re an accountant?”
“Yes.” Vance wondered why everyone doubted that fact. “Why does that surprise you?”
“Because you look more like a fashion model.”
Vance felt his eyes go wide. “I do?”
“Oh, yeah.” He grinned, but it bloomed into a wide smile that revealed perfect white teeth that were made brighter by his tanned face. “You look like you just stepped out of GQ.”
Vance was so stunned he almost dropped his briefcase. No one had ever told him anything like that. They usually just murmured that he didn’t look much like an accountant, but they never said what he did look like. “What kind of model?”
The naked man’s gaze raked Vance from the tips of his shined shoes to the top of his carefully cut brown hair. “Take off your clothes and we’ll see.”
“Are you afraid of me?” Vance loosened his grip on Skylar.
“It’s not fear that’s making me shake. It’s need.” Skylar had had his fair share of sexual encounters but nothing like this. “If you don’t fuck me, I swear I’ll go crazy.”
“Can’t have that.” Vance’s grip tightened. His massive hands perfectly cupped Skylar’s buttocks. Without straining himself at all, Vance lifted Skylar up against his body and then locked their lips together as Skylar wrapped his legs around Vance’s hips. When he squeezed, crushing their cocks together, Vance uttered another hungry growl.
His mouth tasted of something primal and dangerous, urging Skylar to explore. He wanted to brand Vance’s flavor to his senses. He wanted to know all of him down to his soul. And then he wanted to start all over and confirm what he’d learned.
Before he knew it, Vance had moved around to the back side of the desk. He settled them in the big leather chair then pulled Skylar even more firmly against him. Now Skylar was able to rock his hips and slide his prick against Vance’s. More movement made more heat. More heat made Vance sweat lightly, probably from all the layers of his clothing. When the wickedly compelling scent increased along with his body heat, Skylar realized the essence was coming from Vance’s skin. Skylar imagined he was pumping out the same irresistible aroma.
“What?” Skylar had no idea what Vance was talking about. His only concern was with getting all of Vance’s restrictive clothing off.
“I remember reading something about animals using chemical signals to convey their willingness to mate.”
“What does that have to do with this?” Skylar could barely form a coherent sentence at the moment while the object of his lust was having deep thoughts.
“I’m thinking of that scent that’s making us crazy. Perhaps humans are the same.”
“Does it matter?”
“I just don’t understand why I don’t have any control.” Vance’s fingers dug into the meat of Skylar’s buttocks, forcing him to ride harder and faster against him. His possessive grip was sexy as hell. “I always have control. Or I did until you showed up.”
For some reason, Skylar was proud of himself for ruining Vance’s ingrained restraint even if it was because of something he had no control over. “Maybe the truth is that you’re really an animal, just like me.” That actually got a grin out of Vance, one that practically melted Skylar’s spine.
“I must be because right now a flaming meteor hitting the ground outside this room wouldn’t compel me to stop.”
“Good. Now, get these off before I make a mess all over them.” Skylar frantically scrabbled at Vance’s pants. When he struggled to get them open, Vance pushed his hand away and practically ripped them in his haste to get them down and off. Working together, breathlessly stealing kisses in between, they managed to get Vance completely naked.
Skylar traced his hand down Vance’s smooth chest to the nest of dark hair and his thick cock. When he wrapped his fist around the shaft, Vance’s head went back and Skylar swore he snarled. It was so aggressively sexy Skylar’s fist tightened involuntarily.
“I’ve always wanted—” Vance cut himself off by kissing Skylar again.
“What?” Skylar pulled back. “Tell me what you’ve always wanted.”
It took a moment for Vance to summon the words. “I’ve always wanted a man like you in my lap while I’m in this chair.”
“A man like me?”
“Blond. Sexy. Willing.”
Skylar grinned. “Very willing.”
“But we don’t know each other at all.”
“I think that’s part of the attraction.” Convinced that if he allowed Vance to think about what he was doing too much he might call a halt to everything, Skylar plastered himself against Vance’s big body and uttered a plaintive whimper. He’d never made such a curious sound before, but it struck something in Vance. Whatever he’d activated was so dark and primitive Skylar knew neither one of them would be able to call a stop to what was happening between them. And Skylar didn’t want to. Not when Vance went from mild to wild so fast it was stunning. Bodily he lifted Skylar off his lap. Barely had his feet touched the floor before he found himself spinning toward the desk. Vance caught his hips, nestled them against the edge, and then bent him over the surface.
ENTICING A DANGEROUS MATE
Marshal Roberts had seen a lot on his seven-hundred-thousand-acre ranch, but he’d never seen a bare-naked man tucked down for sleep in a field of grass. Marshal climbed off his horse and approached the man with all due caution. He didn’t seem to be a danger, but one never knew. What kind of a sane man took a nap in a field with a hundred thousand head of cattle running around in it? A crazy man. Or maybe a hurt one. Damn. The closer he got, the more it seemed to Marshal that the man—the very nicely formed man with dirty-blond hair—was injured.
Just as Marshal knelt down to inspect him, the man opened his eyes. Lord, have mercy. Not ever in his life had Marshal seen a man with eyes that color. They were riveting, hypnotizing, and seemed to be pulling his very soul out of his body. They were pale green, but not like any green he was familiar with. Not sage, or hunter, or even kelly green. No, this man had a green unique to him. Otherworldly green that was pale but for the darker ring around the iris.
“You okay?” Marshal offered out his hand.
The man’s beautiful eyes went wide, and he scrabbled backward by using his hands and feet.
“Whoa! Hey, I’m not going to hurt you.” Marshal lifted his hands palm out to his shoulders. It wasn’t a wholly unusual reaction to him. Since Marshal was on the big and tall side, the man’s gut reaction of terror wasn’t the first Marshal had encountered. “I’m trying to help you.”
He stopped moving backward, but he didn’t seem any less skittish.
“You got a name?”
The mystery man frowned as if he were thinking very hard, but he seemed unable to find an answer, because he shook his head while looking worried.
“You don’t remember?”
He just stared at Marshal with those wicked eyes of his.
“Okay. Well, why don’t you pick a name?” It probably wouldn’t mean anything, but the man might just pick his own name without knowing it.
“I like the name Elliot.”
“Then I will call you Elliot.” Because I can’t call you “sexy voice,” but damn, if I could, it would be entirely fitting.
Elliot grinned without showing his teeth, so Marshal gave him that same type of smile. The more he echoed the man, the more likely Elliot would remain calm and let Marshal help him. From Marshal’s experience, it was a technique that worked with both animals and humans.
“Do you remember how you got here?”
Elliot shook his head as he looked around. He touched the back of his head, winced, and when he pulled his hand away, there was blood.
“A head injury could explain your state.” Marshal rose, and Elliot’s eyes went wide again. Marshal could tell he was on the verge of scrambling back, but he relaxed when Marshal went to his horse. From the saddlebag he removed a green bandana and a bottle of water. He wetted the cloth, returned to Elliot, and then crouched down, handing the bottle to Elliot. “Drink some of this, but slowly, okay?”
“Thank you.” Elliot took the bottle and drank. He heaved a sigh of relief. “My mouth was so dry it hurt.”
A dry mouth could be simple dehydration or the aftereffects of drugs, but Marshal couldn’t even hazard a guess right now. Elliot’s eyes seemed clear as a judge’s. They weren’t bloodshot or glassy, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been smoking, eating, or drinking something the night before. Elliot looked to be somewhere in his early twenties. That was about the age when most got involved in partying. Marshal never had, but he was the exception rather than the rule.
“Can I take a look at your head?” Marshal held up the wet bandana. “I can give you a little first aid.” And see if you got in a fight or if one of the cattle got to you. Although both scenarios seemed unlikely. The cattle weren’t full sized yet, but most weighed around five hundred pounds. If one of them had stepped on his head, they wouldn’t be having this conversation. The only person Elliot would be having a discussion with was his maker. A brawl seemed farfetched, too, because Elliot didn’t have any bruises or cuts on his knuckles. After running a ranch with nothing but men on it, Marshal intimately knew the hallmarks of a scuffle. His only other thought was that the coyotes he’d been battling for just about forever had gotten to him, but if they had, there wouldn’t be much of Elliot left for him to examine. So that meant it had to be something else.
Elliot nodded and leaned forward. He seemed to suddenly realize he was naked because he plunged his hands down to cover up his genitals.
“It’s okay,” Marshal reassured him. “I don’t know what happened to your clothes. We’ll look for them after I take a look at your head. Okay?”
One word and what Marshal heard was pure sex. He had to get his mind off that trail of thought. This poor guy did not need a celibate rancher hitting on him. Besides, after seeing the same old faces day in and day out, some for over a decade, Marshal was just hungry to find a man to share his life and his bed with. That made his reaction to Elliot nothing more than a fleeting one.
“Here. I guess I won’t need this anymore.” Elliot slowly and deliberately undid all the buttons Marshal had so painstakingly fastened. By keeping his head tilted down, Elliot gave the impression he wasn’t watching Marshal as he undressed, but he was. Marshal kept his gaze riveted to every move Elliot made. The lower his hands went against the buttons, the shakier Marshal’s breathing became. When Elliot reached the last, Marshal licked his lips like he was hungry for the reveal. To taunt him, Elliot shrugged the garment off his shoulders without showing himself. Once Marshal gave a frustrated grunt, Elliot allowed the shirt to part right down the center of his body. Marshal let out a sigh and flicked his hips. It was subtle but still a clear indicator of his interest.
Once Elliot had taken the shirt off, he offered it out to Marshal. “I’ll trade you.”
Marshal’s eyebrows rose, which lifted his hat.
“For the shirt Doc gave you. I mean, you can try to put that on, but I’m pretty sure it won’t fit.” Not with Marshal’s massive chest. His arms were darker than the rest of his chest, but not by too much. His chest was still plenty tan and sexy, what with all the muscles he was packing.
After looking at the shirt in his hand like he’d forgotten all about it, Marshal handed it over and took the one from Elliot. When their fingers touched, there was a shock of static electricity. Utah had the driest air Elliot had ever experienced. The knowledge jolted him because it was attached to a memory of another place that was humid. Overjoyed that his memory was coming back, he dropped the smaller shirt. Before Marshal could pick it up, Elliot crouched down to retrieve it and found himself staring right at Marshal’s crotch.
His jeans were faded almost to white in some places. To the side of his bulge, there was a small tear in the fabric that just a little bit of tugging would enlarge. Resisting the urge to get to work opening that, Elliot looked up at Marshal. Their gazes connected and locked. Marshal’s soft-blue eyes sharpened and turned smoky as he considered Elliot’s mouth in relation to his cock. When Elliot licked his lips and swallowed hard, Marshal gave another telltale flick of his powerful hips as his nostril’s flared.
As if lost in a dream, Elliot reached up and stroked his hand possessively against Marshal’s prick. You’re mine. He may not remember his name or what had happened to him, but that Marshal was his in no uncertain terms was crystal clear. No way was Elliot leaving him. Ever. Problem was, if he said that to Marshal, things might go very differently. So Elliot would tread lightly and keep his dangerous attraction to himself.
Marshal’s hand clapped over Elliot’s, and he thought for sure the magnetic rancher was going to push his hand away, but he didn’t. Marshal mastered his hand by pressing harder and sliding their sandwiched hands up and down the length of his cock. A long, low sigh slipped between Marshal’s tense lips.
Elliot’s mouth watered. God, he wanted to taste this massive man. He wanted to tease him just a bit more then please him fully. Carefully, keeping his gaze on Marshal’s eyes, Elliot eased his hand up toward the oval belt buckle. A golden engraved emblem of a man on a bucking bronco was attached to a silver oval. There was writing on the buckle from when and where Marshal had won it, but the trophy was so worn most of the engraving was gone along with half the fancy curlicues around the silver medallion.
Marshal lifted his hand and unfastened his belt as Elliot unzipped his jeans. The weight of the buckle pulled the fly of his pants apart, exposing his white briefs. A wet spot of pre-cum darkened the fabric above the tip of his cock. Without all the fabric crushing against him, his cock grew and stretched up toward Marshal’s belly button. Before he could change his mind and make him stop, Elliot rose up a bit, yanked down Marshal’s briefs, and sucked his cock into his mouth.
Marshal let out a slow ah of pleasure that told Elliot exactly how good what he was doing felt.
Elliot closed his eyes, lost in the sweet taste of Marshal’s pre-cum. The more he sucked, the more of the liquid ambrosia he brought forth.
Marshal hissed and parted his legs as if to steady his stance. His hand tentatively touched the top of Elliot’s head, teasing through the strands of his hair.
“So good. Your mouth feels so damn good.”
Hungry to taste his full pleasure, Elliot sucked harder and cupped his hand against Marshal’s balls. He wanted to drain him. To make him mine forever.
CLAIMING A BETRAYED MATE
“Uh, Marshal? Yeah, it’s Dooley. No, no, I’m out in the henhouse.”
Nathan McAllister heard the man talking long before he was fully awake. Whoever he was, his voice had a wonderful cadence. It was soft yet earnest. Low but lilting. Almost like he had an accent, but if he did, it was so subtle Nathan couldn’t identify it. And then the trace of worry in that tone pulled Nathan fully out of his slumber. When he opened his eyes, he found a handsome man with the most-mesmerizing lavender eyes peering at him.
“We’ve got a situation here.”
Nathan sat up and realized he was buck naked and covered in feathers. Bloody feathers. This was a unique way to wake up, but what made it even more bizarre was the fact that the penis he was looking at, the one firmly connected to his body, simply couldn’t be his. Nathan knew this for a fact because his dick was circumcised and the one that was sitting placidly in his lap wasn’t. Moreover, he distinctly remembered having pubic hair, but that was gone, too. Tentatively, Nathan reached down and poked the penis with his fingertip. Yep, it was definitely his, but he didn’t recognize it. Must have been some kind of a party to wake up with another man’s cock.
“Well, there’s a naked man in here with me.” Dooley made a face that almost caused Nathan to laugh. “No, I didn’t bring him in here. If I was looking for a little nooky, the inside of a chicken coop is the last place I would go.” He listened for a bit but never took his gaze off Nathan. “You better come and have a look.” Dooley turned away and then whispered, “Because he’s covered in feathers and there’s blood all over his face.”
Nathan’s stomach roiled. He looked around at the explosion of puffy white down and firm feathers and then saw two chicken feet. Oh, God, he’d eaten an entire chicken but for its spindly yellow feet? The urge to vomit was truncated by his sudden fear. What the hell else had he done in the last few hours? His memory felt like a half-full balloon. When he pressed on it, the surface simply indented and bulged somewhere else. He wasn’t able to get a solid handle on anything.
“Hey, uh, no, no, don’t get up.” Dooley lifted his hands and made a pressing motion as if he were holding Nathan down with the sheer force of his will rather than touching him. “My boss, the owner of the Rough River Ranch, is on his way out here to talk to you.”
“I’m on a ranch?” Another thoroughly novel concept. No, wait, somewhere in the far reaches of his memory was a stint on a ranch learning to ride a horse. Why he’d learned that skill, he couldn’t remember, but he had. The big beasts had seemed scary at first, but once he got over his innate fear of heights, he’d learned to love the gentle giants.
“A cattle ranch. Yes, sir. That’s where you are.” Dooley rubbed his hand over his chin, which Nathan noticed wasn’t shaved yet. Apparently, he didn’t do that until after his chores.
“Why am I naked?”
“I was hoping you could answer that question.” Dooley tipped his hat back, revealing short brown hair. “I came in to feed the chickens like I do every morning and found you in here.”
“How did I get in here?”
“Another very good question, since the door was shut tight with the latch engaged. From the looks of it, you got in the little door, but I don’t rightly see how when you’re too big to fit.” Dooley pointed to the side, and Nathan looked over at a door that would easily pass chickens but not a man his size.
“What’s your name?”
It took a moment, but the answer popped into his head. “Nathan. Nathan McAllister.”
“Good. So, uh, where are you from, Nathan?”
“California.” It was then the cool dryness of the air struck him. “We’re not in California, are we?” Nathan had been all over Los Angeles, but he’d never seen a building like this filled with nothing but places for chickens to roost.
“Nope. Welcome to Utah, my friend.” Dooley’s smile was engaging and dropped about twenty notches off Nathan’s tenseness scale.
“Southeastern Utah to be exact.”
Nathan had to picture a map of the United States in his head, and even then he had to work hard to remember the state between Nevada and Colorado. Once he had a clear image of where he was in his mind, he was struck by an even more perplexing question. “What the hell am I doing in Utah?”
“Gee, I was really hoping you could answer that question for me, because I’m pretty sure you didn’t come here to eat my chickens.”
Nathan’s stomach did another flip-flop. “Are you sure I ate one?”
“Yeah.” Dooley crouched down and brushed his hand lightly over Nathan’s shoulder. “You got feathers all over you.” From his back pocket Dooley took a bandana and handed it to Nathan. “You might want to clean up a bit. You know, your face.”
“Don’t tell me any more.” Nathan closed his eyes and wiped off his face without looking to see what came off. He felt nauseous, but he didn’t want to vomit, not when he was in a very small space with a very nice man. “Did I get most of it?”
“Here, let me.” Dooley took the blue swath of fabric from him, wetted it in the long metal trough that ran down the length of the henhouse, then dabbed gently but thoroughly at Nathan’s face. “There, that’s got you looking a whole lot more presentable.”
There was a flash of something in Dooley’s eyes. A hopeful kind of light that shone out, looking for an echo in Nathan. Whatever it was Dooley was searching for, he didn’t seem to find it because his hope evaporated rather suddenly. He stood, tucked the bandana away, then turned toward the door.
“Wait!” Nathan struggled to his feet, but he was too late.
“Stop staring at me,” Jake snarled.
Nathan automatically dropped his gaze then defiantly lifted it along with his eyebrows, almost like he was daring Jake to do something.
A snarl twisted the handsome off Jake’s face, making him look animal and base. “You. Up. Now.” Jake stood and pointed toward the back of the café. “Go.”
Nathan stood and went where he was ordered. He couldn’t help but notice the farther back they went, the darker the hallway became and the faster his heart pounded. When he’d apparently gone far enough, Jake grasped his shoulder with one big hand, spun him, and pressed him against the wall, holding him there by stepping close.
Every nerve in Nathan’s body went haywire. His senses sharpened as the smell of Jake filled his lungs. Faint traces of cologne were drowned out by the scent of his workaday sweat. But what made coherent thought impossible was the feel of his powerful form pressing against him. Just like they had all those years ago, they fit together perfectly. And try as he might to appear disinterested, Jake’s hard cock told a far different story.
“I don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t really give a shit, because all I want is for you to leave.”
Holding his gaze was possibly one of the hardest things Nathan had ever done. “Just because I’m submissive doesn’t mean I’m a doormat.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You don’t own me.” Not yet, at any rate, Nathan thought. “You can’t tell me to go and expect me to obey.”
“I’m not getting involved with you again, Nate.” Even as he spoke, his fingertips made caressing swirls against Nathan’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Nathan tried not to do anything to anger Jake, but it seemed even blinking irritated him.
“How the hell you got Elliot and Marshal wrapped up in this mess, I’ll never know.” Over and around his fingertips soothed.
“They said I’m your—”
“You’re not.” Jake cut him off and moved just the smallest bit closer. “I don’t like liars, so there’s no way in hell I’d claim one as my mate.”
The word caused Jake to flick his hips, which caused his cock to make a hot, hard swipe against Nathan’s. Against his will, he uttered a whimpering cry.
“Don’t do that.” Jake struggled to catch his breath. “Don’t you dare make that sound, and what the fuck is up with that smell?” Jake’s nostrils flared as his hand against Nathan’s shoulder tightened. “God, it’s you. You smell so—damn, you. This isn’t going to work. I’m not an animal. I’m not in heat or whatever the fuck this is supposed to be, so stop. Just stop.”
Whatever he was going to say was swallowed up when Jake’s mouth settled over his. Growling with hunger, Jake flattened Nathan to the wall with the entire length of his body. As he deepened the kiss, he rocked his hips, rubbing their pricks together, creating friction that increased the heat between them.
Lost in bliss, Nathan lifted his hands and held onto Jake’s shoulders.
“Up, get up against me.” Jake tore his mouth away long enough to issue his order, and then he bodily lifted Nathan by grasping his hips, forcing his legs apart. “That’s it. Ah, yeah. That’s where I want you. I want to feel that tight little hole rubbing up and down the length of my cock.”
Nathan’s head was spinning. Gone was the furious, resistant Jake. In his place was the masterful man who was never satiated. Jake had bent Nathan a hundred different ways as he tried to slake his lust, but nothing ever satisfied his beast. Over and again he would grasp Nathan, pin him down, fuck him hard, and each time only made him famished for more. It was madness, and Nathan had rejoiced in his ability to make the powerful man beyond any kind of rational thought. Even here, in the back hallway of a bustling café, Jake wasn’t able to stop once he got started. Sexual hunger consumed him.
“I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m going to forget you.” His tongue plunged into Nathan’s mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose. Grinding his hips forced Nathan’s back into the wall, but Nathan didn’t care. If he broke him, destroying him with his passion, then at least they’d be done and finished with one another. That would be better than another ten years of longings denied and substitute partners who never came close to igniting the same fire.
When Jake pulled back to take a breath, Nathan said, “Do it. Fuck me. I don’t care if you walk away when you’re done.” It was a lie, but Nathan knew if Jake took him once, if he claimed him, even in a brutal way, he would seal their fate. There would be no going back this time. There would be no undoing of a bond forged with heat and lust. All Nathan could hope for was that love would also bloom once the hurt in Jake had been soothed.
“Liar.” Jake grasped Nathan’s hips and pounded him into the wall with his powerful thrusts. “Don’t you ever tell the fucking truth?”
“I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” Nathan’s heart squeezed hard. “Please.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I did. It’s always been you. I don’t care how you do it, just do it. Just fuck me.”
“And what if after I do, I simply walk away?”
“A part of me will die just like last time. Is that what you want to hear?”