by Fel Fern
“That’s so sweet of you, even if Tricia isn’t Cole’s.”
“She’s family,” Spencer said with a shrug.
Henry realized Spencer was right, because neither Spencer nor his brothers were connected by blood either, but it was clear to anyone they had forged bonds of steel. Truthfully, he was a little jealous of Wren, because the Mercer brothers welcomed him into their tight-knit group.
Could the same happen to him, or would the past interfere with their chance at happiness?
Spencer directed him to the table. “The roast is in the oven. Sit.”
“Okay. I can eat,” he admitted.
He watched the Alpha werebear with pleasure. Spencer’s kitchenette was small but functional, and contained a stove, oven, fridge, a simple counter, and not much else. The scent of something delicious hit his nose minutes later. Roast boar, he guessed. Spencer served the main dish with some baked potatoes and a huge bowl of salad sprinkled with bacon, croutons, and shredded cheese.
“Wow,” he said, shocked. “I didn’t know you can cook.”
“Isiah taught us all to be self-sufficient. Besides, whenever Nash or Malik were working part-time, I cooked for Cole.”
The image of a young Spencer blazed in his mind, Spencer preparing a meal for his younger brother. The werebear was doing the unexpected, revealing nuggets of information Henry would keep close to his heart. Spencer had seemed so closed-off when they’d first met, a closed book no one could pry open, but maybe he’d been wrong.
They dug in, and he ate his first slice of wild boar, eyes widening at the explosion of flavors on his tongue.
“That’s good,” he blurted.
Spencer smiled. “You should eat more, put some meat on those bones. Maybe I should stop by on occasion, check if you’re eating.”
His heart raced at those words. “Really? I mean, sure. If you want.”
Damn it, but Henry could never do coy.
Wherever this was going, he was ready. It was time to bare all their secrets and hold nothing back, if they truly both wanted for this to work.
Chapter Seven
“So tell me more about yourself,” Spencer said, when they were about to finish dinner.
He paused, having known this question was coming. Henry hadn’t spoken about Brad to anyone else but Wren, but even he kept the darker bits and pieces of his past to himself.
“I moved to this town, wanting a fresh start, to get away from my abusive boyfriend,” he began. Spencer’s eyes narrowed with anger—anger for his sake, he realized—but didn’t interrupt, which was good. He wanted the big man to listen, to know Spencer wasn’t the only broken one in the picture.
Henry owned his share of scars, too, which meant they were perfect for each other, right?
He continued, “Brad and I met at a company party. I used to work for a small company which developed utilities apps in the past. He just seemed so charming back then, like a prince in the flesh.”
“What changed?” Spencer asked at his heavy silence.
“When he asked me to move in, I became ecstatic. Over time, he became abusive, finally showed his real colors. He didn’t want a boyfriend. He wanted a punching bag. One day, while explaining to a cynical nurse how I got my latest batch of bruises, I woke up, realized I didn’t need him.”
He was surprised to find the chair opposite his empty and Spencer behind him, wrapping those corded-steel arms around him in comfort. Unlike Brad’s repulsive and cruel touches, each time Spencer touched him, he felt, warm, safe, and wanted.
Henry breathed in the scent of the gorgeous male behind him. Spencer kissed the nape of his neck, made him shiver in anticipation, and started making tiny circles on his back. The motion instantly relaxed him, calmed him.
“This asshole, where is he now?” Spencer asked in a quiet, dangerous voice.
“Why, are you going to kill him?” Henry joked, then quieted when Spencer’s growl filled the room.
Sweat rolled down his back when he realized Spencer meant every word.
“He’s still in Chicago, probably found someone new to torment,” he eventually answered. “There’s plenty of young men he can take his pick from.”
Spencer said nothing at that.
He reached out and gave Spencer’s hand a squeeze.
“Now you know my greatest secret. Tell me about yours.”
Henry waited for Spencer to gather his thoughts. “His name was Daryl.”
“Was?” It was unfair of him to be jealous, but he was. Spencer wasn’t his boyfriend, not yet anyway. Heck, he didn’t know what label applied to them yet, but this Daryl had stolen Spencer’s heart from him.
“I was twelve when I met him, living in the woods with my father. He cracked after my mother’s death, moved us from civilization to live a life of solitude.”
There was hidden pain in Spencer’s words, and he remembered the scars on Spencer’s back, old rake marks.
“Did he hurt you?”
“Hurting me was fine. I knew as I grew older, stronger, his bear would no longer be able to stand up to mine. Daryl was human like you. I was too young to understand what the mating bond was, but my bear knew instinctively this human was ours to protect, except I failed that promise.” Spencer told him in a quiet voice about what happened next.
Henry was horrified a father, any father, would go to that far to make his son’s life miserable. He cringed when Spencer said, matter-of-fact, about how he found that his father had gone berserk and in bear form, standing over the corpse of Daryl.
“What happened to your father?” he finally asked.
He rose to his feet, so he looked Spencer in the eye and gave the werebear a hug, hoping it could chase some of the horrid memories of the past away. He knew a little about the mating bond from Wren, knew shifters only chose once, but Wren had been given a second chance, given him hope.
“Dead. He went berserk. After I discovered Daryl’s body, I ran, knowing I couldn’t take down an adult shifter who’d gone rogue. I reached out to the other shifters in town. A rogue was a danger to everyone. My father had given in to his bear, and his first instinct was to hunt and destroy anything in his path. The other adult shifters decided to help put him out of his misery. After that, social services took me in. Isiah adopted me, along with my brothers.”
Henry could imagine a young Spencer, still wrecked with grief over the death of Daryl, a potential future mate, mustering the strength to find other shifters who could help him. Even as a child, Spencer had thought of others, of the harm his father could bring.
“I think I understand the source of your strength now,” he murmured, running his fingers up Spencer’s muscled forearms.
“You’re one hell of a survivor, too, little human.” Spencer took his lips again, and he responded with equal passion, dick straining against his jeans.
Spencer thrust his tongue down his throat. Heat coiled in his insides and went to his dick. His skin felt taut, stretched over his frame, feverish with need.
“I just ran,” he whispered.
“It takes courage to escape from any kind of abusive prison. Some people break in the attempt to be free. I’m fucking proud of you for coming this far.”
He blushed. No one had ever said that to him before.
“You understand what I’ve told, right?” Spencer finally asked. “When I lost Daryl, I lost a vital part of me, too. There’s a hole in my heart that can never heal.”
“But,” he insisted, beginning to undo the buttons of Spencer’s shirt. “You were too young. The mating bond never took hold.”
Spencer closed his fingers over his, halting his progress. “My bear still mourns Daryl’s death. It’s the reason I don’t do relationships.”
“Wren,” he began, “thought he’d never be able to live, much less love again after his first mate died, until Cole entered his life and changed everything.”
Spencer rested his forehead against his, hands locked over his. “Cole and Wren are exceptions
to the rule. I’m not strong.”
“Don’t you think this, the prospect of us, is worth it?”
“I can’t give you all of my heart.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll mend that hole.”
“I’m not sure where this path will take us,” Spencer eventually ventured, “but I’d live to regret it, if I turn away now.”
He leaned closer and kissed his scarred and broken bear. Spencer took over easily, sucking on his bottom lip, and claimed him lips until Henry’s insides melted, leaving him panting and wanting for more.
“You’ll make me right as rain?” Spencer asked, but he didn’t mistake the mischievous tone in his voice.
He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with you in the first place.”
“Fuck, little human. You really are one of a kind. Now, I’m hungry for some dessert.”
“Me?” he asked, nonchalant, although he fully knew the answer.
“You,” Spencer confirmed.
Spencer edged him toward the bed, and he let out a squeak when the backs of his leg brushed against the footboard. Christ, was the werebear gorgeous, even though Spencer looked like he was about to devour Henry inside out. All his. He didn’t mind at all.
A smile appeared on the corner of Spencer’s lips. The next words that came out of Spencer’s mouth rendered him speechless. “The Alpha shifter approaches you. What do you do? What do you say?”
He sucked in a breath. “Wait a moment. That’s a line from my demo!”
“Malik helped me work it out,” Spencer said.
He blushed, swearing he looked like a human tomato by now. Still, part of him was shocked and pleased at the same time Spencer made the effort to look up his game. Admittedly, he hadn’t counted on the werebear to actually see it, given he’d used their sizzling first encounter as a reference.
“Um. I borrowed a little inspiration.”
At least Spencer didn’t look mad. Right?
“I see.” Spencer gave him a gentle push, until he ended up sitting on the edge of the bed. “Let’s give you a little more.”
“You’re not angry?”
“At first, but then, I heard the passion in your voice when you talked about your work. This game came from your blood, sweat, and tears.”
“If you put it like that, okay.”
“Clothes off or I’ll rip them off you. I’ve been thinking about taking off those fucking tempting jeans the entire night.”
“I have a surprise for you, too,” he said, then squeaked when Spencer gave his shirt a jerk. The sound of rippling fabric startled him. “Oh shit. I’ve always fantasized about you doing that, ripping my shirt away I mean, except in my daydream, I’d protest.”
“Fantasies?” Spencer prodded, an infectious grin on his face.
Oh, he was seriously liking this side of his Alpha werebear, although he liked Spencer’s gruff side, too.
Henry realized he wanted all of Spencer, just for himself, except the ghost of Daryl would always hover nearby. No, he realized. Henry promised to be the one to gently close the door to that past. The past was important, he knew that—they shaped an individual and some scars, they’d learn to carry—but it wasn’t bad to give Spencer a gentle nudge in the right direction.
He had a feeling if Daryl was alive, Daryl would want Spencer to move on, too.
“Yep, I have a creative mind.”
“I can see that.” Spencer nodded to his jeans. “Those, too.”
“Why don’t you peel them off? Think of me as a present.” Oh thank God, he managed to say those words without stuttering. Henry slid further up the bed, all too aware of the tight little thong he wore. Back when they’d had that serious conversation, the discomfort had almost disappeared, but not now.
Spencer crawled into bed and straddled him. Henry began to reach out, to pet those muscles, but Spencer caught his hands, wrenched them above his head. “I can be creative, too,” Spencer said, a wicked smile on his lips. “Keep them there while I unwrap my gift.”
“I’ll try.”
“Do,” Spencer said. “Be good for me.”
“And if I decide to be bad?”
“Then you’ll find out what this bear does to naughty human males who like basing his game scenarios on real life.”
Chapter Eight
Henry gulped, and the human’s growing discomfort only heightened Spencer’s anticipation.
“I knew it. You’re angry about the game,” Henry accused.
Well, at first, he’d been taken aback when Malik had laughed and opened the demo. He’d been infuriated at first, then his anger had ebbed. Curiosity had taken its place and the longer he’d tried out Henry’s demo, the more he’d realized a lot of love and passion had been placed into making that product.
Henry loved his work that much was clear. This game had been a first. Malik had showed Spencer that prior to Date an Alpha, Henry had made utility-based apps.
Spencer never expected to come to this brilliant compromise or for Henry to take a chance with him, even after this confession.
He still believed Henry deserved a lot better, but if Henry decided to settle for him, then Spencer would make sure his human wouldn’t live to regret his decision. Spencer took Henry’s lips again, loving the fight in the human. Henry greedily kissed back, began to touch him, but remembered his rule.
“Good,” he said.
“Good? This is hard,” Henry grumbled and moaned when he unzipped Henry’s zipper, then paused.
A crisscross of clingy black fabric seemed to have molded against Henry’s dick and balls. He licked his lips. Hunger spiked in him and his bear wanted to taste, because Henry’s arousal rose up, thick in the air.
A growl slipped from his lips. He slid down those infernal jeans with a grunt. “Did you wear this on purpose? To make me work for it.”
“Honestly?” Henry asked. “I didn’t think they were that tight when I first tried them on.”
Studying Henry’s heated face, he continued yanking the stubborn piece of denim down, knowing full well his efforts would be rewarded soon enough. He finally got them down to Henry’s ankles, and Henry kicked them off with triumphant glee.
“Good-bye, jeans!” Henry declared.
Spencer was too fixated on what Henry was wearing. Another obstacle, those loops and knots. He snarled, impatient. He hadn’t realized his little human could be sneaky, too, but he never backed down from a challenge. Spencer got off Henry and took his time, undoing his shirt.
Henry stared at him. Need burned in the little human’s eyes, making the striptease worthwhile. The beast inside him howled for more. They had waited a week, seven tortuous days buried in work, debating whether to cut things off, but he’d snapped and reached out to the human instead.
Spencer didn’t regret his decision one bit.
Finally, Spencer took off his jeans, boots, and briefs. He rejoined Henry and was on top of the human once more, using his elbows to keep his weight off Henry to prevent crushing him.
“You wore this piece of underwear to tease and tempt me, didn’t you? Congratulations, little human. It worked.” Spencer ran his hand down Henry’s very tightly wrapped prick and balls. The human shuddered, squirmed, but Spencer kept Henry pinned down.
“Not on purpose. I mean, yes. I wanted to surprise you, but I made a mistake in putting this thing on.” Henry’s embarrassment was too genuine to be faked.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
Henry moaned, when Spencer nuzzled his face against his covered member. “Jesus, are you going to torment me?”
“Hmm?” Spencer gave Henry’s prick a lick and sucked on it, despite the obstruction of fabric. Henry moaned, hands clenching at the sheets.
“It’s time I punish you, little human.” Spencer gave Henry’s length a few more licks. He kissed, nipped, and took his time, tasting his mate’s cock, until Henry yelled uncle.
“No more, please, or I’ll swear I’ll come.”
“Is that a thre
at?” He pulled his mouth away and let claws slice out of his skin. Henry’s eyes widened. “I lack patience to undo every knot. Don’t worry. This won’t hurt.”
“You can say that. Those look like knives,” Henry blurted.
“Trust me.” His words seemed to relax Henry a little.
One quick swipe, and he undid one corner of the knots. Henry let out a sigh of relief as he retracted his claws. “Such a waste. Let’s give this one more use,” he said, tugging at the fabric. Spencer examined the piece, felt the texture. While stretchy, it was certainly soft as silk.
“Woah, what are you doing?” Henry asked.
“You’ll see. Hold your hands above your head.”
Henry obeyed and groaned when Spencer used the ruined piece of underwear to bind them together.
“I didn’t know you were kinky,” Henry murmured, tugging at it. “Oh, it’s kind of like being tied with a handkerchief.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“Self-experimentation in my youth,” Henry muttered, dropping his gaze in embarrassment.
Spencer caught Henry’s chin and kissed his adorable little human again, until Henry’s breath hitched.
“There’s no need to be shy with me. No secrets between us.”
“Okay,” Henry said, beaming up at him.
“Look at you, so tempting, gorgeous, and all for me.”
He ran a hand down Henry’s body. Goose bumps rose on Henry’s bound hands. Smiling, he took his time, kissing, nipping, worshiping every inch, before reaching Henry’s prick. He swiped the pre-cum gathered at Henry’s tip, making the human groan and shift.
Spencer tongued the slit and played with the sensitive spot under the head. Henry’s balls, he didn’t neglect. He sucked at those, too, until Henry started begging him.
“Oh God,” Henry uttered in a hoarse voice as he opened his jaw wide and took Henry’s prick inside his mouth.
Spencer bobbled his head up and down, liking every cry and mewl above him. Realizing Henry was close, he pulled his mouth away and continued by giving Henry a hand job. Spencer locked their mouths together, giving Henry a taste of his own arousal.
