by Jill Haven
“I feel a little overdressed.”
He raised a suggestive eyebrow at me, and I chuckled.
“Easily remedied,” he murmured, and his palm covered my dick, smoothing the fabric there as his other hand twisted my button undone and slowly drew the zipper down, until my cock bobbed against his wrist, free. “What a big boy,” he half cooed, and another flush of heat swelled me further. “I want to taste you,” he growled then his mouth pressed against mine, his tongue flicking across the inside of my cheeks and over my teeth as he brushed light sweeps of his hand over the head of my cock.
“Fuck,” I murmured, when he pulled back, my dick still jerking and desperate for more. “Fuck, you are turning me on.”
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you the past few days. I needed you inside me.”
I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, drawing air into my lungs and back out before I found some measure of control. It would be so easy to flip him and make his ass mine, bury myself balls deep until my knot held me there and I pumped my load into him. My balls tightened at the thought.
“I want to feel you wet around me,” I ground out as fantasies filled my mind.
August groaned. “Touch me,” he pleaded, and his soft breaths fanned against my cheek.
My jeans hung loose around my butt as I reached for his cock and wrapped my fingers around the shaft. It swelled in my hand, pulsing with his need.
He stiffened, thrusting further into my hand. “Just like that,” he stuttered. “Oh, God, Ewin, don’t stop.”
I grazed the pad of my thumb across the head of his dick, swirling his precum across his velvet skin. “I’m going to make you come so hard,” I murmured as I focused on stroking him, drawing my hand up and down his engorged shaft.
“I want your dick in my mouth,” he said, and my hips thrust toward him at the thought.
“Jerk me off,” I instructed him. “I’m not letting this beautiful cock go.” I tightened my hold a little and he cried out before moving faster in my hand.
I slid my arm around to his back, digging my fingers into his ass cheek, then I bent, still keeping my grip on his cock, searching for his asshole. “Are you wet for me, little omega?” I whispered, and he gasped, panting again.
“I want to touch you,” he whimpered, as his lips touched my jaw, his tongue flicking over the skin he found.
“And I want to pound into you and fill you with my cum.” Fuck, I could hardly hold myself together. The urge to claim him, possess him, nearly overwhelmed me.
I took a deep breath and took my hand off his cock, nudging my dick into position next to it instead. Then I felt around in my pants pocket until I found a small packet of lube.
August moaned, grinding against me. He moved his lips to my mouth and began to kiss me with a fierce passion I’d never experienced. Between gasping breaths, I coated my hand in lube and rubbed it over our cocks until they stood against each other, red and glistening.
“Oh, fuck,” August moaned. “I want to come so badly. Make me come, Ewin.” His neck and cheeks flushed, and I brought my lips to him in a gentle kiss.
“Let me look after you,” I whispered, as I wrapped my hand around both of our dicks, combining the friction of my strokes with the friction of them rubbing together.
August gasped and began to thrust in time with my movements. As his hips bucked more wildly, I increased my speed, until he gasped, and his breathing became irregular as he sucked each breath through his mouth. “I’m right there…I’m right there, Ewin. Don’t stop. Don’t st…” He gasped. “Ewin!”
His cum spurted over my hand, coating me in his heat, and I took one last gasp of air before I moaned and released thick ropes that splattered against his abdomen and chest.
“Holy shit,” he laughed before he laid his lips against mine in a sensual kiss.
I smiled as he pulled away. “I told you I wanted you.”
He blushed and ducked his head. “I don’t think I dared believe you meant it.”
“Good job I showed you, then.” I pulled the blanket back around his shoulder as he rubbed his upper arms as if chilled.
“Just a second.” He drew his forefinger through a splash of cum before flicking his tongue out to taste it. “I want to see how everything you make tastes.”
“You’ll make me hard again,” I warned.
He lifted one shoulder but said nothing, his eyes twinkling as he continued to suck his finger.
I rescued his T-shirt and gently wiped him clean before tucking him up against me and pulling his nest of blankets to cocoon us.
“We should get some sleep,” I suggested.
“I want to enjoy this a little bit longer, first.” He trailed a finger down my cheek and across my jaw, the movement of the fine hairs there sending sparks of electricity through my already aroused body.
“Just being near you is enough to make me hard again,” I whispered. “But you’ve just had a heat so I’m guessing you’re not taking suppressors?”
“I haven’t needed them.” He glanced away. “There’s been no one since the start of culinary school.”
“And no casual sex?” Curiosity poked me to ask the question.
He shrugged, his shoulder nudging against mine. “I’m not a casual guy.”
My heart swelled with a strange mixture of affection and pride. Then possessiveness swept in and took hold. “I should hope not. But maybe we should get you on them now?”
If he wanted anything other than just mutual jacking off, he needed to be on the pills. I couldn’t take chances like accidental pregnancy with him being so young and so career-focused. And I couldn’t trust myself to remain in control of my urges around him.
“You definitely need the pills if you want me inside you, that’s for sure.” I brushed my hand over his ass, and he shivered then nodded. I kissed him. “You have no idea what you do to me,” I whispered.
“I’ll see a doctor about those suppressants as soon as possible.” His gaze met mine. “I don’t know if I should have another heat in the kitchen.”
I laughed, the thought as awful as it was amusing. “Definitely not,” I agreed. “I don’t think I could keep my cock out of you if that happened.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be us living two lives, would it?” he mused.
“Shush now.” I settled him against my shoulder. “I’ve got you. Close your eyes and rest. We can make all of our plans later.”
13
August
June 20th
I had a definite spring in my step as I hustled into work, even if the sun had barely crept over the horizon, and the birds were only just warming up their voices. As I set up my workstation and tied my apron around my waist, Jonas arrived.
“Hey, dude,” he greeted me. “You look about a million times better than I expected from a guy who just had his reproductive cycle go to shit at the same time as he came down with the flu.”
“Hey. Shhh.” I put my finger to my lips as I glanced around the kitchen I knew to be deserted. I wasn’t up for discussing my heats with anyone. But I owed him gratitude, so I kept my voice low as I answered. “Thanks for your help. Really appreciate it, man. Don’t know what I would have done without you. Don’t worry about the cycle thing, though. I’m going to get that sorted ASAP.”
“Aww, I was just giving you shit, buddy.” He touched me on the shoulder. “I was just glad to be around. And your guy Brody seems like a good friend?” He lifted his statement into a question, and I laughed.
“Just a friend.”
Jonas laughed. “One day I’ll know more about you.”
I turned to study the recipe cards for the menus I hadn’t practiced, and my mind filled with images of Ewin—the way his lips felt against mine, the hardness of his cock in my hand, the shape his mouth made as he came. Then I composed myself and locked my secrets away safe. When I faced Jonas again, he looked at me expectantly.
“So, do we have a lot to do, seeing as you summoned me here
at this ridiculously early hour?”
I sighed. “Oh my God, so much.” I fanned the cards in my hand. “Take your pick. I missed a shitload. So…did the others pick up speed just to leave me eating their dust?” Casual wasn’t actually working for me—I just sounded like a dipshit—so I retied my apron and focused my attention on gathering ingredients and cooking utensils.
Jonas took my cue and we focused on cooking until I had a bench of dishes for us to taste.
“These are great,” Jonas mumbled, talking around the food in his mouth.
I stood back. “Glad you like them. But can you tell me something to improve?”
He stared at me, still chewing.
“Because, you know, you are my mentor, so that kind of involves teaching.” I stuck my tongue out at him and grabbed a fork. “I’m glad you like it, though.”
“Dude, I would be seriously pumped if I sent out dishes that taste like this. There’s not a whole lot I can add. You’ll be giving Ewin a run for his money soon.”
I hid my smirk. I was kind of giving Ewin a run for his money already. If giving him a run for his money also meant giving him a raging hard-on outside working hours.
The door to the kitchen banged open and Jared walked in. He stopped when he saw Jonas and me already at my station. “You sneaking in early for a bit of cheating, Lennox?” he scoffed.
“Good morning, Jared.” I turned away. To start my cleanup and get ready for the actual work Not even he could yuck my yum after the night Ewin and I had spent together.
The rest of the day, I kept catching myself smiling, or zoning out, as I watched Ewin’s hands as he demonstrated or tasted or, hell, just had them at the ends of his arms. I had to pinch myself several times to wipe my grin away, and I had to think about sentences really carefully before I said them just in case I was about to blurt out our secret at top volume to everyone in the kitchen.
As soon as my workday finished, I checked that my workstation was clean, grabbed my backpack, and left. I even dodged Jonas’s suggestion of after-work drinks.
“Sorry, dude. Still recovering.”
“Gotcha. I heard heats are tough on guys—stomach cramps and all that shit.” He shook his head sorrowfully. “You go and rest, man. I’ll take it easy on you tomorrow.”
I caught Ewin’s eye as I left, and the look he gave me was so hot I almost blistered on the spot. I laughed and headed home.
I kind of expected him to show up…I hoped he would, I worried he wouldn’t. I swear his scent carried through the door, and before he’d even knocked, I’d opened the door, pulled him into my hallway and pressed him up against the wall for a very long kiss…and a teeny-tiny grope. Damn, his ass felt good cupped in my hand.
“Close the door, August,” Ewin said when he came up for breath. “We’re not giving the neighbors a free show.”
“Spoilsport.” But I shut the door and led him to the couch.
Eventually, I stood and stretched. “Dinner? I have leftover soup.” I grinned. “Some genius made it in my kitchen.”
After we’d eaten, Ewin took my hand, stroking his thumb across the back and sending scattered electricity up my arm.
“You know, I still can’t believe I don’t remember you from when I was little,” I murmured. “It’s kind of embarrassing I forgot, actually.”
Ewin smiled. “I really wouldn’t worry. You were Dawson’s baby bro, pretty much. Too little to join in with our games. Too annoying, really.”
I pouted. “I wonder why Dawson never owned up to the connection when I was busy fangirling over you.” I glanced at him. “That was a brief phase, though.”
He chuckled. “Not too brief, I hope.” Then he shrugged. “I knew Dawson, but we weren’t the best of friends. We were connected because of Ryker more than anything else.”
I weighed up the new information in my head as I extracted my hand from Ewin’s and stacked our bowls ready to go in the dishwasher. It made sense that they knew each other through Ryker. Dawson hadn’t been one for many close friends, from what I remembered.
As I stood at the sink rinsing the bowls, Ewin moved up behind me and touched my shoulder.
“Hey.” He kept his voice gentle, and I stiffened. Nothing good ever came of gentle-voice conversations. “What happened between you and Dawson?”
I weighed up his question as I put the bowls into the dishwasher and dried my hands. This wasn’t really a story I wanted to get into. “I don’t talk about it much.”
Ewin took my hand and laced our fingers together. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. You just take your time.”
I sighed, the whoosh of air telling the story of birthdays missed, dinners not made, childhood injuries unkissed. “I guess it started with my parents.” I led him back to the couch. “You might as well get comfortable. It’s a long story.”
The old frame creaked as Ewin sat down and made himself comfortable, and I sat next to him, snuggling against his shoulder, where I didn’t have to make eye contact.
“My parents weren’t worth a crap. They literally didn’t give a shit about Dawson or me. Dawson’s really the reason I’m still here at all.” Yet I hated him almost as much as I loved him. My parents had always been deadbeats, but Dawson pretended not to be. Until he just stopped pretending.
“Dawson worked part-time so we could eat. He bought the food, I did the cooking. Did you know I could work both the microwave and the stove by the time I was six?” But my proud moment always filled my eyes with tears because what little kid should have to cook his own dinner at six years old? “I mostly kept out of my parents’ way. Dawson took the brunt of anything and worked hard for us. I guess I kind of did the same, except I worked hard for me, so I could get the hell out of Dodge. I kept my grades up and spent so many hours in the library. That was where I found my first cookbook.” At the mention of cooking, the bitterness faded from my voice. “From then, cooking calmed me, and I made meals from whatever we had on hand in the kitchen.”
Ewin smiled and lifted my hand to his mouth before he pressed a soft kiss to my fingers. “Yours is the kind of talent that has always existed, so I’m not surprised at all. I can totally see you taking charge of a kitchen while still in grade school.”
I smiled at him but didn’t reply directly. I needed to get through this story. I focused over his shoulder, practically seeing myself as a child as I continued. “One day, I found a cake recipe in a new book the school had just got in. I think at one point the librarian started ordering in cooking books just so I was actually making balanced meals and she knew I was eating. But this one book, it had a cake recipe in, and it was the most beautiful cake I’d ever seen. I knew right away I had to make it. And I knew Dawson would love it, too. I ran right home to tell him all about it so he could get the ingredients for me. But he wasn’t there. And Mom and Dad were too drunk to tell me where he’d gone.”
I broke off, lost in the memory of arriving home and realizing I didn’t know where Dawson was or when he’d be back. My heart cracked open all over again and worry weighted my shoulders.
“He didn’t come home the next day, either,” I whispered. “I begged Dad to do something, I begged Mom to call the police because Dawson was my brother…and brothers don’t just not come home.”
I stopped talking as a wave of grief rushed over me, stealing my thoughts and words. I never talked about this because my sense of loss hadn’t gone away. I still grieved Dawson. He’d left me, and I hated him, and I loved him and hated myself because I couldn’t forgive him.
Ewin tugged me closer and pulled a throw from the back of the couch, draping it around us. “I’ve got you, and you’re safe,” he murmured. Then he kissed my temple. “I’m here.”
I relaxed as his scent surrounded me, warming me, reassuring me, protecting me.
“That’s right,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
“A neighbor came over one day with a letter for me. It was from Dawson. I never saw the neighbors too often, and if they
knew about our house, they ignored it. But Dawson must have figured it was safer to send the letter to her than to where Mom and Dad might find it. He told me—” I broke off on a harsh laugh. “He told me he had to go and be a hero for the country so he could keep me safe.”
“Maybe he had to go.” Ewin’s voice rumbled out of his chest where I had my ear pressed against it listening to his heartbeat.
“He was keeping me safe every day. Don’t tell me he did a better job when he joined the army.” I rolled my eyes. “Turned out he’d left money with this neighbor so she could give me an allowance, and he was even paying her to keep an eye on me.”
Ewin made a noise low in his throat. “I give up on humanity.”
I shook my head, trying to bring the memories into focus in the right order. “It wasn’t really her fault. She was poor, too, and I needed watching. But when…but when I realized Dawson was gone, that he’d just taken off without even saying goodbye…I almost still don’t believe it. The two Dawsons don’t fit together. My brother loved me, another Dawson left.”
Ewin pressed another kiss to the top of my head but remained silent. Maybe he was just giving me space to talk, or maybe there was literally nothing he could say.
“I wrote him letters every day, you know?” I twisted in Ewin’s arms, the movement releasing another burst of scent, another wave of calm and safety. “The time I’d spent cooking, I spent hunched over my desk, writing to him, and the allowance our neighbor gave me got spent on notepaper and pens. Stickers. Stamps. Shit, the US Postal Service made a lot of money from me.” I laughed as I recalled the time I’d spent writing letters, all of it wasted.
“What did Dawson do?” Ewin’s voice shook me from my memory. For a moment, I’d been back at my parents’ old table, the smell of ramen noodles tainting the air around me.
I barked out another laugh, the sound harsh. “What did Dawson do? At first, nothing. I wrote to him for months. But one day, I received a reply. The neighbor brought it over.”
Ewin sat up straighter behind me, and my head bounced gently against his chest.
