Donnchadh

by Lynn Hagen

  Getty sucked on his bottle as if his life depended on it. He finally lowered it and laughed. “God, I’m such a geek. I’m freaking out because some hot guy is hitting on me.”

  Donnchadh smiled. “There’s no need to be nervous. We’re just two guys talking. Maybe more if things go right. Possibly something that’s completely natural.”

  Donnchadh was smooth. Getty would give him that. “And what’s completely natural?”

  Donnchadh smile widened. He took the bottle from Getty’s hand and set it on the table in front of them then crooked his finger.

  Getty leaned in, and Donnchadh grazed his lips over Getty’s jaw. “Why don’t you let me show you?”

  Fuck, had the temperature in the room gone up ten degrees? Getty’s body flushed as his cock hardened. “Okay.”

  Donnchadh tucked a finger against Getty’s jaw and turned his head. He brushed his lips over Getty’s, soft, sensual, stealing Getty’s very breath.

  “Take me back to your place,” Donnchadh whispered.

  Those words were like a bucket of ice dumped over his head. Getty pulled back and shook his head. “We can’t.”

  Donnchadh lured Getty back to him, back to his lips, back to what felt like their own private world. “Then let me take you to mine.”

  Getty had enough sense left in his addled brain to say, “How about a motel?”

  That damn smile was going to ruin him. Straight white teeth, dimples. Fuck, Getty was ready to get naked right on the couch.

  “My treat.” Donnchadh got up and pulled Getty to his feet. They made their way down the steps, Donnchadh leading the way. No one stepped on their feet, got in the way, or bumped into them. It was as if everyone cleared a path for Donnchadh.

  “Where’s your ride?” Getty asked when they were finally outside. It wasn’t until they didn’t have a crowd of people around them that Getty really noticed their size difference. His head came to Donnchadh’s pecs. And damn, all those freaking muscles.

  “We’ll take yours,” Donnchadh said. “That way you have a means to escape when you’re done ravishing me.”

  God, there went Getty’s blush again. His face went nuclear as he showed Donnchadh to his car. He wasn’t even sure the guy would fit, but Donnchadh did, and he slouched when he settled in.

  Of course he’d had to move the passenger seat all the way back, and he still looked a bit uncomfortable.

  Getty drove through town, his heart beating like crazy as he made his way to Maple Inn.

  It was Donnchadh who got out and paid for the room. He came back and leaned his arm on the roof of Getty’s car. “Ready to have some fun?”

  He opened the door and held out his hand. Getty laid his hand in Donnchadh’s and let the guy pull him out.

  Shit. He was really about to get laid. Getty had even stashed a condom and a packet lube in his wallet. He prayed Donnchadh was well worth it, too. There was nothing worse than a hot guy who didn’t know how to use his dick.

  Chapter Two

  As soon as they walked through the motel door, Donny slid in behind the human and grabbed his hips, pulling Getty’s back to his chest. He bent to nibble along Getty’s jaw, but the height difference was killing his neck, so he maneuvered Getty toward the bed.

  And damn, the guy was all for whatever they were about to do. He dropped onto the bed and pawed at Donny to join him. Donny hadn’t been looking for someone to fuck tonight. He’d just wanted to get away, to lose himself in a sea of nameless faces, and to forget yet another warrior had found his mate.

  There had just been something about Getty that called to him. It could’ve been the fact that the human looked just as lost as Donny had felt. Two lost, miserable souls trying to forget that life was a bitch sometimes.

  And now they were about to get lost in each other. Donny slid his hands into Getty’s, intertwined their fingers, and raised Getty’s hands above his head. Now he was stretched out for Donny as Donny took tiny nips at the human’s jaw, his neck, his earlobe.

  Getty’s breath hitched, and then he let out a long moan, wriggling under Donny, squeezing his fingers, which squeezed Donny’s. Getty’s whimpers were almost desperate as he sucked Donny’s tongue into his mouth.

  This was exactly what Donny needed to forget what had happened to him a month ago, how it had taken that long to recover from his hellhound attack. To feel alive. To feel his heart racing and knowing this human wanted Donny just as much as Donny wanted him. There were no hellhound bites, no savage fighting, and no black ooze pouring out of him.

  Just sweat, moans, begging whimpers, and the two of them desperate to find release. A hard cock pressed against Donny’s stomach, his own cock straining to be unleashed.

  Donny slanted his head, devouring Getty’s mouth, grinding their cocks together before he reared back, panting, his chest rising and falling quickly, staring down at Getty’s kiss-swollen lips.

  Donny tore his shirt over his head, keeping his back to Getty, keeping the deep gashes that Phoenyx had been unable to heal away from the human’s eyes, away from questions he might ask or pity he might give.

  Getty gazed up at him, his eyes glassy, a crooked smile on his face. Donny ran his hands under his lover’s shirt and tweaked his nipples while biting into his own bottom lip.

  Getty shivered and groaned as his eyelids fluttered closed. That was exactly what Donny wanted to see, the way he made his lovers feel. The look of pleasure on their faces. The way they grabbed for him, wanting more.

  “Take your shirt off, handsome.”

  Getty wiggled until his shirt was over his head and floating to the floor. Donny leaned in, suckling the hard nub between his teeth, lavishing the pebbled skin with his tongue.

  He trapped Getty’s hands when the human tried to run them through Donny’s hair. He wanted the guy to know off the bat who was in charge, who was running this, though he planned on bringing Getty so much pleasure.

  “But the dreads are so pretty,” Getty panted. “I want to touch them.”

  Donny nipped Getty’s chest. “Sorry, babe. No one touches the dreads.”

  Donny got that a lot, people coming up to him, asking to touch, and some, with no fucking manners, touching without even asking. He took great pride in his hair, and fuck, it was just rude.

  But maybe, with this hot little number squirming under him, Donny would make an exception.

  Donny let a growl rumble in the back of his throat. “Go ahead, shorty. Just don’t pull.”

  With a wide grin, Getty smoothed his hand down Donny’s dreads. “They’re so soft.”

  “And so are you.” Donny wiggled his brows. He pulled himself from the bed and finished undressing. His cock jutted out, hard, pre-cum at the slit.

  Getty rolled to his hands and knees, looking so seductive that Donny wasn’t sure he could hold out. He was tempted to flip the man and fuck him until they both couldn’t walk.

  But he breathed out slowly, allowing the simmering heat to build into a roaring fire as Getty crawled to him and enveloped Donny’s cock with his lips.

  “Shit,” Donny hissed. He stroked Getty’s hair and then placed his hand under the man’s jaw. “That’s it, baby. Suck my cock.”

  He punched his hips upward, tugging at Getty’s hair, strangling the strands as he tossed his head back. Donny bit his lower lip so hard he almost drew blood. Fuck, the male knew how to suck cock.

  Donny’s brain melted as electrical fingers worked their way up his spine. He let out a strange noise then snarled out as he came down Getty’s throat.

  Getty backed away, licking his lips, smiling up at Donny. “Now what?”

  Was the guy for real? “I’m far from done with you.” Donny was going to make this a night they would both remember. He would forget about the pain that still ached through his back, forget that he was still single, and forget that he hadn’t been allowed to take Amir’s kids to fucking Disney World.

  Donny just wanted to forget and get lost in the human who was so willing to let h
im use his body to drown himself in.

  Donny bent, capturing Getty’s lips in a sensual kiss. He took over Getty’s mouth, a wild, searing kiss that left them both breathless. “Turn around.”

  With a glint of lust in his eyes, Getty turned, presenting his ass to Donny. Mother fuck. Donny grabbed the base of his cock and closed his eyes, calming his racing heart.

  Donny guided his cock to Getty’s entrance, his fist damn near strangling his erection. He gritted his teeth as his natural lube took over, spurting out and easing the ring of muscles. Getty must’ve been lost in what they were doing, because he didn’t say a word about lube or the wetness he felt against his hole.

  Getty slowly worked Donny inside him. They both groaned when the head of his cock breached Getty. His hips instinctively jerked. Donny locked his muscles into place, allowing Getty to adjust to his length as smooth wetness surrounded his cock.

  He gripped Getty’s hips, tilting his head back as pleasure wrapped around him. A long and deep moan escaped from him as Getty rocked back and forth.

  Donny fought the growl threatening to erupt. The incredible pleasure of Getty’s flesh against his was nearly maddening. Unable to stand it any longer, he thrust hard, groaning on every stroke at the tight heat clasping him.

  Instinct guided him now. Donny couldn’t control it. He thrust his cock inside Getty, the pleasure so damn good he wanted to snarl with it.

  “You feel so fucking good.” Getty’s moan was a hard gasp, a breathless sound as his hands curled into the bedding, strangling the cover.

  “Ditto, shorty,” Donny whispered as he moved his hand to Getty’s swollen cock and stroked it gently.

  He didn’t plan on stopping until they both were spent and sweaty. This was the first time he had ever been at the point of losing control so quickly. Donny was stunned by his body’s reaction. His balls drew up tight against his body, and he knew it wouldn’t be long.

  Then he felt it. A powerful fist right inside his chest, the deep connection that snapped into place, their souls merging as one.

  He was fucking his mate.

  Donny was overwhelmed by the revelation. So shocked that he nearly pulled out. A hookup at a club. A one-night stand. Someone Donny didn’t know a thing about.

  His mate.

  “Don’t slow down,” Getty whimpered. “Faster, Donnchadh.”

  His name sounded so sweet and erotic on his mate’s lips. Donny closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders, tamping down his approaching orgasm.

  But there was no stopping it. His climax crested, and Donny slammed into Getty, giving his mate what he wanted. Getty cried out, tilting his ass higher, shouting Donny’s name as he came.

  The tight heat surrounding his hard shaft, the scent of Getty’s release, and the look of pure ecstasy on Getty’s face were too damn much. Getty’s hole clamped around Donny’s cock, making it almost impossible to move.

  Donny snarled, yanked backward, and then buried himself as his orgasm exploded, his seed filling Getty’s ass.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Donny eased out of his mate’s ass then took a staggering step back. This was when Donny usually said a few romantic words before he bounced. No tangled emotions and no promises of seeing each other later. No strings attached.

  But that wasn’t what he did. Strings were definitely attached.

  Donny curled around Getty and took them both down to the bed, spooning his mate.

  Getty snickered. “I didn’t take you for the cuddling type.”

  Donny normally wasn’t. “Never judge someone before you get to know them.” He kissed Getty’s neck. “Like what’s your last name?”

  “Uh-uh.” Getty shook his head. “That’s not how this works.”

  Damn. That was normally Donny’s line.

  Fine, then Donny would have to find out another way. Like looking at Getty’s driver’s license when the human feel asleep.

  But it was Donny who dozed off.

  When he woke, Getty was gone. All the moves Donny usually pulled on his lovers had just been pulled on him. And fuck, he didn’t like it one bit.

  The player had just gotten played.

  * * * *

  Getty crept back into the house, praying his dad and Bimbo were asleep. He didn’t want any questions, and Getty just wanted to bask in the glow of what he’d just done.

  He would’ve stayed to cuddle, because damn, it had felt good lying in Donnchadh’s arms. But Getty was a realist. Donnchadh was out to have a good time, nothing more. And if Getty would’ve stuck around, he was dead certain his dumb ass would’ve fallen for the guy.

  Men like Donnchadh didn’t settle down. Not with men like Getty. A nerd who practically lived in his bedroom in front of his laptop screen. Donnchadh probably preferred high maintenance men, and Getty was about as low maintenance as they came.

  After showering and changing into something comfortable, Getty opened his laptop and got to work. He wasn’t the least bit sleepy. His body still tingled from being with Donnchadh, and he was too wired to close his eyes.

  As he stared at the coding, all he saw was sinewy skin, long, pretty dreads, muscles that gleamed with sweat, and fuck, he could still taste Donnchadh on his lips, even though Getty had brushed his teeth.

  The kisses they’d shared left Getty feeling breathless, giddy, and tattered because he would never see the guy again. Donnchadh’s touch had set Getty on fire, burning him up and leaving him in ashes.

  He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on something else, something that didn’t leave him needy and wanting more from a stranger who was probably after his next conquest.

  Getty sighed and closed his laptop. He rubbed his temples, restless and now hungry. He changed into street clothes and grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys before heading out to the diner.

  It was still early, but The Diner Train opened at five. Getty had twenty minutes to kill before it opened, so he parked and played a game on his phone, his treacherous mind returning to that motel room over and over again.

  Normally he could forget about sexual encounters after they were over, but damn, he couldn’t get the stranger off his freaking mind. Getty rolled his window down and enjoyed the gentle breeze wafting inside the car.

  A sedan pulled up, and Cyril, the owner, got out. He looked over at Getty. “Bored or very hungry, Getty?” Cyril’s smile was warm and genuine. He was such a nice guy.

  “Both,” Getty said. “Dying for a cup of coffee.”

  Cyril nodded his head toward the diner. “Come on in. I’ll get one started for you. The staff should be here any moment, so at least you’ll have company.”

  Getty was grateful for any kind of distraction. Anything that would take his mind off Donnchadh. “I can start the pot if you want,” Getty offered.

  “Knock yourself out. I’ll be in the back getting everything started if you need anything else.” Cyril headed to the kitchen as Getty went behind the counter. It took him all of five minutes to figure out how to work the machine. It was easy enough. Dump the packet of grounds into a filter and fill the top part with water.

  Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

  Getty’s eyelids fluttered closed as he inhaled the smell of coffee brewing. The only thing better than a fresh cup of coffee in the morning was sex.

  Damn it. Now he was thinking of Donnchadh again.

  “I wasn’t aware Cyril hired a new server,” Kenny said when he came through the door. “Good morning, Getty.”

  Getty chewed on his lower lip, wondering if Kenny was serious. “He didn’t hire me. Cyril told me to start a pot.”

  “Relax.” Kenny came behind the counter. “I was just teasing.”

  “Oh.” Getty smiled. “Good morning.”

  “I can take over from here.” Kenny made a shooing motion. “Go have a seat and I’ll pour you a nice, hot cup of coffee.”

  Getty slid onto a stool and strummed his fingers. He should’ve brought his laptop with him. With no other customers, he could’ve gotten some work done
while listening to Kenny putter around.

  He opened his mouth and closed it. Getty had started to ask if Kenny knew Donnchadh, but there was no use asking around about the stranger. They’d had their fun, and now it was time to move on.

  “Here you go.” Kenny set a cup of coffee in front of Getty, as well as a plate of toast. “Something to hold you over until Cyril gets breakfast going.”

  “Thanks.” Getty added cream to his coffee and took a sip just as someone walked in. He looked over his shoulder. It was Sheriff Copache and Moose, one of the servers.

  “Hey, Getty.” Moose bumped fists with him. “You’re up early.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.” Getty bit into his toast and moaned. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until that bite.

  “Hey, Getty,” Sheriff Copache said.

  Getty had designed the Maple Grove Sheriff’s Department website. The sheriff had wanted it updated—a sleek design and user friendly. The old website had been archaic, crashing often. They’d become friends after that.

  He really liked the sheriff. “Hi, Sheriff Copache.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Grayson?” The sheriff winked at him, and Getty looked at Moose, the sheriff’s boyfriend.

  Moose headed to the kitchen, paying them no mind.

  “Sorry, force of habit.” Getty ducked his head.

  “Mind if I sit with you?” Sheriff Copache took a seat on Getty’s left but spoke to Kenny. “I’ll have what he’s having until Cyril gets breakfast going.”

  “Coming right up,” Kenny said.

  Cyril looked out from the order window. Getty had always had a slight crush on the owner. Cyril was handsome as hell. “What can I make for you guys?”

  “Waffles and bacon,” Sheriff Copache said.

  “Same,” Getty said just above a whisper, but Cyril nodded as if he’d heard him.

  “What projects are you working on?” The sheriff took a sip of his coffee. The guy was huge next to Getty, muscular, and hot for an older guy.