So he knew. He knew that I had no interest in him physically at all. He knew… wait a minute. “What do you mean you’re too old for me?” I stared intently at him, so he’d know I was serious.
Duke looked down, then let go of my fingers to go fiddle with the kettle, filling it with water. “Just that I know that this isn’t a love match for us, that you had your eye on one of the younger alphas. I always figured you’d eventually settle on one of them. It probably would have been a better match, but we didn’t know who we could trust to keep the secret if they weren’t ready to mate.”
“And you were? Ready to mate?” Oh, Medeina, I’d stolen him from someone.
“Well, yeah. Getting to that age, you know. Getting past that age, really.” He set the kettle on the stove and turned it on. “I mean, Mac and Abel are mated, and the rest of the guys I hang around with are younger, so I guess I’m next. Was next,” he corrected himself.
“So you had someone you were interested in?”
“Yeah.”
I waited, but he didn’t say any more. “Who?” I asked, my heart thundering in my chest.
“Does it matter?” He set the mugs next to the stove. “What tea do you want?”
Well, fine. Don’t answer me. Doesn’t mean I’m going to give up. “The tea that makes you tell the truth. That’s the one I want.”
“What is it you want to hear, Bram?” He turned to watch me with eyes that—yes, that was fear in them. Why would he be afraid of me? Did I know the person he was in love with?
“I want to know who I need to apologize to.” I stood with my arms crossed over my chest and stared him down. Not very omega-like, but all of a sudden I needed to know. As if I needed another emotional switch to beat myself with, but there wasn’t anything logical about how I felt right now.
“Don’t worry about it,” Duke told me, and beat a hasty retreat to the living room.
“How can I not worry about it? You’re throwing yourself on a leghold trap, and I’m the trap.” I followed him, my hands clenched into fists. “Dammit, Duke. I’m not a child.”
“I know.” His voice had gone deep and gravelly, like sexytimes gravelly, and I had a sudden, horrible, exhilarating thought.
I crept slowly closer to him, my heart filled with hope, my brain filled with, essentially, “Oh, fuck”. “Duke, who was it? Was it…” The word wouldn’t come, it just wouldn’t. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around myself. “What it me?” I whispered, hoping I was right, hoping as well that I was wrong.
His breath shuddered out of him—I’d only ever read that in a novel, but I knew it as soon as I heard it. I opened my eyes and stared at him, frozen, but inside, I was rolling around gleefully at the news. “It was me! You’re in love with me!” I caroled and actually wiggled in delight.
“Now, Bram, I don’t expect—oomph!”
He never got to finish his sentence, because I jumped on him and wrapped my legs around his waist. “You do love me! I thought I was tricking myself. You bastard, Duke Mercy Hills, why did you never say anything when I was flirting so hard with you?”
He swayed and wrapped his arms around me. “Maybe because you were flirting with everyone else just as hard?”
“Well, I couldn’t let you think I was too easy a catch.” I hugged him hard, just buried my face into the side of his neck and breathed in as much of his scent as I could before I had to get down again. “Really? You wanted me, for real, honest?”
“Why does it matter, Bram?” He sounded tired.
I let myself down to stand in front of him. “Because I’ve been trying to get you to ask me out for ages.” I shoved him gently.
“You…wah?” He looked stunned, then pained.
“Yep,” I drawled, thoroughly enjoying this part. “I used to…” I stopped. Even mated, it probably wasn’t appropriate to tell your mate that you used to daydream about him to jerk off to. “Yeah, let’s not go there.” I reached for his hand and marveled at the idea that I could now. That he was mine. And no matter how we’d gotten here, we were mated.
Except there was that small problem of nothing below the waist taking any notice of him.
Well, that didn’t mean we couldn’t do anything. Like Holland had said, I could think of Justin. Except I didn’t want to think of Justin while I was with Duke.
I tugged on Duke’s hand. “Come on.”
“What?” he said, still with that stunned expression that I was finding absolutely adorable.
“I’m covered in body paint. It’s starting to itch.”
“There’s a shower—”
“That’s not how it’s supposed to come off,” I told him severely, and started walking toward the bedroom. Behind me, I heard, “Oh,” and then, louder, “Ohhhh.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Duke happily let Bram drag him to the bedroom. If Bram was this enthusiastic, was it possible that Justin hadn’t triggered whatever it was that Bax had been talking about? After all this, to find out that Bram loved him—his head was spinning like he’d already been drinking.
Bram spun around in the door of the bedroom and kissed him, his fingers already working at the knot in the belt holding Duke’s tunic closed. Duke returned the favor, running his fingers over the smooth skin of Bram’s chest—not skinny, but not over-muscled either. He looked sleek, like a wolf in fighting prime.
He was gorgeous.
Their tunics hit the floor and Bram pulled him down for another kiss. Duke was so hard it hurt at this point, but even with that distraction, he couldn’t miss the small frown line that appeared between Bram’s eyebrows. Bram pulled him toward the bed, the paint on his body smearing over Duke’s chest, leaving them both scented in moss and lavender and some other things Duke didn’t recognize.
Bram broke away from Duke’s mouth. “The sheets!” He turned and stripped the covers away from the bed, revealing a set of white sheets, pristine as summer clouds. Then he turned back to Duke. “We’re supposed to make a mess,” he said. The tension was back in his body, and the loose pants did nothing to hide the fact that, where Duke was ramrod straight and could barely think around the need to tumble Bram into that bed and make a real mess, Bram was completely unaroused.
Duke forced himself to take a step back. His hands clenched and he felt shaky and out-of-control. He wanted Bram, in a very alpha sort of way. He wanted to hold him down and smother him with kisses and explore every nook and cranny of his body, making him yelp with pleasure the entire time. But he couldn’t do that. Not the way things were now.
Bram reached for him. “Where are you going? It’s our mating night.” His voice was high with sudden anxiety, and Duke could smell the faint acrid edge of fear creeping into his scent.
“You don’t feel anything, do you?” Duke asked him.
“Of course I do. Come to bed, Duke.” Bram pressed himself against Duke, running his hands over every bit of exposed skin.
“Bram, hold on.” Duke took him by the upper arms and made him step back. It was painfully obvious that Bram wasn’t responding to his mating night the way most shifters did, and they both knew it. “You don’t have to do something you’re not ready for.”
“I am ready!” His voice held a lot of temper, and more than a hint of hysteria.
“Bram, Bram, sweetheart,” Duke said, and slid his hands up Bram’s arms and over his shoulders until he could cup Bram’s jaw from both sides. “How much fun do you think I’m going to have if you’re just pretending?”
“But I want to.” The to in the sentence stretched out in a desperate plea. “Duke, we’re supposed to be in here, you know…” His cheeks went pink. “I mean, I’ve been dreaming about this forever.”
“Forever?” Duke asked, startled.
“Well,” Bram admitted. “Maybe not since I was a pup. But definitely since you guys beat up the Montana Border guys, and you were walking around like you’d just stepped out of an action movie.”
“Really?” Duke said, surprised at how touched
he was. He pulled Bram against him and laced his fingers together behind Bram’s back so the omega couldn’t go anywhere. “Well, I’d say I noticed you sometime during that summer before.”
“Did you?” Bram bounced and leaned against him. “When? What made you notice me?” His arms slipped around Duke’s back and, while his position made it obvious that Bax had been right, the expression on his face as he gazed up at Duke meant that Duke didn’t care. To think that Bram was surprised that Duke would have noticed him. Like you could ignore him, really, with that red-brown hair and the huge eyes, the long legs, and an ass that made mated men stop and stare.
Duke decided that there was no reason not to tell him the truth. And probably the truth was a good way to start a mating, especially one as strange as this one. “Yes. You were in the garden in the spring, bent over something, and you stood up and used the hem of your t-shirt to wipe your face. And the whole time Jason was yelling at you not to stain your clothes, I was trying to decide whether I liked your chest or your—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Your, uh, backside better.”
Bram’s eyes narrowed. “My backside? You mean, my ass?” he drawled, his lips curling up in a grin that belonged on a man a good half dozen years older.
“It just feels wrong to say it.” But Duke couldn’t help a smile. Bram was adorable.
“We’re mated. You can call it an ass, you know. I do.” Bram wiggled a little and, before Duke knew what was happening, Bram had somehow grabbed Duke’s arms and pulled them down until his hands rested on top of…
“Fine,” Duke said at Bram’s triumphant expression. “Your ass. Happy?”
“Very.” Bram nodded, but then his expression sobered. “But really, Duke, I know you did this thinking there wouldn’t be anything in it for you, but I really don’t mind. I mean, I want you to be happy. This should be a proper mating. I’ll figure out a way around this.”
“Like what?”
“Try me.” Bram began to walk backwards, pulling Duke with him, until his legs hit the bed and he fell backwards, pulling Duke down on top of him.
They kissed fervently for a few minutes, the rest of their clothing disappearing in the rush. Duke picked Bram up with an arm under his hips and moved him into the middle of the mattress. In the back of his mind, he noted that Bram’s body paint had left a patchy green-blue trail across the sheet, which he figured would make Bram happy, for whatever reason it was important to him. He stroked a hand down Bram’s side, then back up again to tease his nipples, experimenting to see what Bram liked. Bram moaned, his eyes tight shut, and he rubbed his cock against Duke’s. He was starting to get hard, and Duke swooped in to kiss him again, swallowing the faint whimpers coming from his throat.
Bram groaned, and then made a noise that set Duke’s hackles rising. A sad, pitiful noise, like the squeak of a rabbit that knows its time is coming to an end.
Duke froze, and Bram rolled out from underneath him, pushing Duke away with surprising strength. He hid his face in the mattress and sobbed, beating at the soft surface with one clenched fist. “Damn you, damn you, damn you,” he repeated over and over again.
“Bram?” Duke asked in a low voice. He put his hand on Bram’s shoulder and tugged gently, until Bram rolled onto his back, tear-stained and flushed. “It’s okay, whatever it is.”
“No it’s not!” Bram crooked an arm over his eyes and, in a voice muffled by emotion, said, “I thought I had a way around it, but no, the fucking asshole took that away from me too.” He lifted his arm away, letting it fall limp to the mattress, and stared up at the ceiling with blank eyes. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to repudiate me. I’m screwed anyway. Literally.” He laughed bitterly.
This was so unlike the Bram he knew, Duke began to worry. “I’d like to help,” he said. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Can you make me not an omega?”
What! “It’s part of who you are, and a part I love.” Duke laid his hand on Bram’s belly, right where a baby would nestle inside him. It felt shockingly intimate, and it was this, more than anything else that had happened, that made him realize that he was mated to this man here. “You don’t want to be an omega?”
“I don’t want to be Justin’s omega.” Bram rolled over and curled up against Duke’s chest. “I just wish he’d never come to Mercy Hills. Because omegas are faithful unto death, and this is the reason why.”
Duke rubbed Bram’s back and held him until his mate dozed off against his chest. He’d found it hard to believe that Bram and Justin were linked forever, and he’d held onto that hope in the face of Bax’s gentle determination. But, if it was true, well…
There was more than one way to kill a deer. Or a wolf.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Duke woke up to sunshine streaming in through the window, lighting up the bedroom—his bedroom. His and Bram’s. It was a nice thought.
Without opening his eyes, he stretched an arm out across the bed, figuring to gather Bram in for a morning cuddle, even if it couldn’t lead to anything else.
It was empty. He opened his eyes and sat up. Bram wasn’t even in the room.
But only a moment after he realized that, the sound of a frying pan on the stove and the smell of eggs cooking and bread being toasted floated through the bedroom door.
Breakfast! He was kind of hungry—last night had worn the two of them out and they’d both passed out dead asleep when they’d finally made it back into their home.
Duke got out of bed and hunted for his pants from last night, but they were nowhere to be found. What he did find was his clothes, that he’d packed and left at Abel’s yesterday, neatly put away in the drawers of a slightly battered dresser. A second, smaller one, took up the space on the rest of the wall, and when he peeked inside, it too was filled with clothes. Bram’s.
He sat on the bed for a moment, savoring the idea of Bram’s clothing in their bedroom. Crazy. He was too old to be happy about such silly things, but there it was.
The smell of bacon added itself to the other delicious scents calling him to the kitchen, so he followed them and found Bram humming as he worked away at the stove.
The kettle began to whistle. Bram picked it up without losing a beat and poured hot water into two mugs waiting on the counter beside the stove. He put the kettle back on the stove and turned toward the small kitchen table.”
“Oh, you’re up! I didn’t wake you, did I? Although, it’s almost ready, so you would have had to get up soon anyway.”
“No. My stomach did.” Duke grinned and walked over to cup Bram’s chin in his hand and kiss him good morning. “That smells delicious.”
Bram smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“It was a good night,” Duke agreed with a smile of his own.
It had been. They’d eaten everything that Bax, Jason, Holland, and Bram had made. He’d heard more than a few compliments about Bram’s cooking, and been on the receiving end of a lot of jealous glances, despite the small crowd. Then they’d danced until they burned off everything they’d eaten. Bram had been a bit quiet at the beginning, but opened up as he realized that people believed their story. Not that it was all that unbelievable. Duke knew he wasn’t terribly good at hiding his emotions. And apparently, anything Bram did was entirely believable, which had made Duke laugh. Bram had complained that Duke wasn’t supporting him, but, carried away by the excitement of the night and a few of the pack-made bottles of cider, he’d bent Bram back over his arm and kissed him thoroughly, to the whooping encouragement of the mating guests.
Bram’s cheeks went a little pink and he looked down and away. “You go sit at the table. I’ll bring you your breakfast.”
“You don’t have to wait on me.”
“I know.” Bram glanced up at him, his smile warming Duke right down to his toes. “But it’s our first morning together, and I want to.”
“Okay.” Duke dropped a kiss on his cheek and went to sit in one of their two chairs.
>
Bram put a mug of tea in front of Duke, then went back and puttered around the stove, sliding eggs and bacon onto a plate, buttering toast and putting it on another plate. He came back to the table with Duke’s breakfast, and the plate of toast.
“Where’s yours?” Duke asked, nonplussed by the feast in front of him, and Bram’s empty place setting.
“It’s coming.” Bram kissed Duke’s cheek somewhat self-consciously, then went back to the stove. He quickly scooped more eggs out of the frying pan, added some bacon, then came back to the table with his plate and a mug of his own tea.
Duke waited until Bram was seated before starting to eat. The eggs were over-easy, the way he liked them. The bacon, too, was cooked, but not crispy. He hated crispy bacon. A glance at Bram’s plate showed more over-easy eggs, but the bacon was so cooked it could stand on end.
“How did you know I liked my bacon this way?” Duke asked.
Bram shrugged and smiled across the table at him. “I heard you say it one time. It stuck.” He turned back to his breakfast and picked up a piece of bacon in his fingers.
“And the eggs?”
“That too.”
Duke bit into his toast and thought about that as he chewed. “What else do you know about me?”
Bram paused, a strip of bacon in his mouth. “Stuff,” he mumbled around the food.
“Stuff, huh?” It was tempting to keep pushing, but the interrogation was making Bram uncomfortable, so Duke let the subject drop and applied himself to his breakfast. It was really good, a hint of bacon on the eggs, the bacon itself cooked to perfection. Bram must have picked up on his preference for licorice in his tea—a sweet tooth he tried not to indulge—because his tea tasted like cinnamon cookies, with the sweetness of licorice in the background. And he was sure it wasn’t a mix he’d seen in the cupboard yesterday. But he didn’t want Bram to think that Duke hadn’t paid any attention to him either. “I know some things about you too.”
Duke's Baby Deal (MM Mpreg Shifter Romance) (Mercy Hills Pack Book 3) Page 11
