Wyatt sat back, glancing at Dean from underneath his lashes as he continued to talk to Cindy and Ezra, trying to field the multitude of questions they were firing at him. He was being so patient with them, never showing any frustration despite being asked the same questions multiple times. Carter’s parents were understandably concerned for their son, particularly as he was in hospital receiving treatment for an unknown injury.
Wyatt was reeling—so much had happened in such a short time. The last thing he expected when he woke up this morning was to be rescued. Let alone that the person who came to save him was none other than his mate. Wyatt continued to watch him, trying to get a sense of who he was and what kind of man he was. He was human, Wyatt could tell that much. Patient too.
Regardless of the type of man he was though, Wyatt was without a doubt stepping out of one difficult situation into another. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Wyatt lay staring out of the bedroom window, watching as the shadows fought their way across the globe. The sun was shining through the leaves at the back of the house, and the curtains moved gently in the breeze from the open window.
The room wasn’t his, the house wasn’t either, but it was a place for him to stay, a place for him to rest, not physically, but emotionally. He’d been on his own for eight years now, after his parents had kicked him out when he’d told them he was gay. Luckily, he’d waited until after he’d graduated from high school to tell them, as at least that meant he was able to get a job. For the first year, he’d crashed at friends’ houses, sleeping on sofas or in their spare rooms until he saved up enough money to afford his own apartment. One room, small and cramped, but his. He’d lived there for several years until one night he’d seen something he shouldn’t have. The night he’d crept back to his old family home.
The night that had changed his life.
Now he knew too much, and that knowledge had led him to this time and place. Everything that he had owned was gone: his job, his apartment, and all of his belongings. Wyatt only had the clothes on his back.
Jeremy and Donnie, who he was now living with, hadn’t hesitated to help him out, buying him items that he needed. Toiletries, and clothes. He was even working with Jeremy in his bakery. They both agreed after his first disastrous attempts at baking that he was much better at the front of the shop serving the customers, and after a few weeks, most of the regulars knew him by name.
He’d been concerned at first that he might be picked up again, but both Jeremy and Donnie assured him that he was safe here, and he could work if he wanted.
None of them seemed bothered that he was a vampire; they’d all been very friendly and welcoming. He was made to feel part of this close-knit community and he was discovering it was something that he needed and had missed.
When he packed his bag and left his home, left his family behind, he’d been determined to succeed. He wouldn’t need anyone, he could survive on his own, and he had up till a point. It was only now that he realized how much he needed friends.
For the first time in years, it felt like Wyatt was putting down roots and he actually enjoyed it.
Too many years he’d been distrustful, unwilling to let anyone get too close. He’d had acquaintances, but none that he would call friends, purposely keeping people at arm’s length. After the way his own family had thrown him aside, Wyatt had struggled to let anyone close to him.
Now, he had people who knew him, smiling and waving at him as they passed by. He went home every night and was welcomed by smiles. Sometimes when the guys from Rescue Inc were away on some mission, it would just be him and Jeremy. Sometimes Sacha would join the two of them and Wyatt found himself liking the quiet mate of Jared. If he was honest with himself though, he had a much harder time around Jacques, knowing what he’d suffered at the hands of his own kind.
Occasionally, they would go over to Chester and Silas’ place or to Jared and Sacha’s. Donnie and Jeremy were close to all the members of Rescue Inc, and they’d all welcomed Wyatt into their group.
There was only one problem, and that was Dean, his mate. Wyatt was twenty-five, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for the commitment that having a mate meant. Sure, he’d seen Ale and Troy together, saw the connection and deep love they had for one another, and yes, that was something he wanted, but in the future, not now.
He noticed the glances Dean gave him, the puzzled expression on his face, and he knew that he was feeling the pull. Wyatt knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to tell Dean the truth. Maybe he would do it the day he left and one day return when he was ready. He didn’t feel the driving need to mate, not like others of his kind. He didn’t want to be tied down. It was a strange conundrum. He liked the friendships that he had developed, liked the people in his life, and yet with his mate he felt the need to distance himself.
Maybe he was too afraid to love someone only to have that love thrown back in his face, like his family had done to him. Maybe he was too afraid to be hurt like that again. It had felt like he’d been ripped open when they’d turned their backs on him. His own family, abandoning him because of who he loved.
Wyatt sighed. This was his life for now until he was ready to move on. He was good at hiding and changing who he was, but what about Dean?
Thinking about his mate brought his image to Wyatt’s mind, and he shivered. Dean was older than him by a good ten years, with short black hair that had silver at the temple. His deep brown eyes appeared to see through Wyatt, right down to his soul. A straight nose, full lips, with a scar that slashed across his right eyebrow, all of which added to a gorgeous package.
He was built just the way Wyatt liked, tall and broad with a trim waist and narrow hips. Wyatt had occasionally glimpsed the top of a tattoo on the back of Dean’s neck but couldn’t see enough of it to figure out what the tattoo was. It looked like numbers,but Wyatt couldn’t tell for sure.
Wyatt had listened to conversations and found out that Dean was an only child and both his parents had died a number of years ago. From the sounds of it, he’d had an amazingly close relationship with his parents and even now, years after their death, he missed them. Wyatt would give anything to have that type of relationship with his family, but it was a dream that would never come true.
Dean had a scar that ran along his left forearm, and from conversations he’d overheard, he knew that was from where someone had slashed him with a knife. The drunken brawl that Dean had tried to break up had ended up with him almost being stabbed, and if it wasn’t for his training in the Marines, he may well have been.
Dean was taller than him by a good six to seven inches but then again, most people were taller than him. At only five foot eight, he was the smallest member of his family and Dean was at least six foot.
Wyatt stood and walked over to the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection. Short, with long, curly black hair, his most prominent features were his bright green eyes and pale skin.
His eyes were the first thing most people commented on, well, that and his plump lips. Most men thought his lips were good for only one thing. For years he’d longed to be taller, his hair to be straight, or to be able to get a tan, but now he was happy with how he looked, and the lips helped.
“Wyatt,” Donnie shouted. “Dinner’s ready.”
Sighing, Wyatt left the bedroom and jogged down the stairs, entering the kitchen as Jeremy was placing the food on the table. He went towards the table and then realized that there was someone else in the room. He paused, his hand hovering in the air as he reached for the chair and glanced over his shoulder at the one person he’d been trying to avoid.
“Hello Wyatt,” Dean said.
Swallowing, Wyatt muttered, “Hi Dean.”
Chapter One
Dean sat at the kitchen table across from Wyatt, watching every move he made. He quickly noticed that Wyatt would look at him and then glance away, an adorable flush covering his skin. Those eyes, so brilliant and green, snagged his, but it was those lips th
at had Dean thinking of Wyatt on his knees, those plump lips stretched wide around his cock as Dean fucked his mouth.
Wyatt’s nostrils flared, and their eyes met before Wyatt looked away, biting his bottom lip. Dean wanted to reach out and pull his lip from between his teeth and rub the injury away, but he knew he couldn’t. Wyatt didn’t know him at all; he was only one of the men who had saved him, a complete stranger doing his job. Dean was no one important, and he’d have to learn to be patient.
He was grateful for Donnie and Jeremy giving Wyatt a place to stay and a job of his own. It also gave him the chance to get to know Wyatt. He hadn’t felt such an intense attraction to someone in years, probably since he’d first come out. Not that he’d actually come out.
It turned out his parents knew him better than he did, and one day he walked into his bedroom to find a packet of condoms, a bottle of lube, and a book called The Joy of Gay Sex on his bed. He remembered his chest heaving, sweat breaking out over his skin as he sat on the bed staring at those three items. He never told his parents his sexual preference, but somehow, they knew, and going by the items on his bed, they didn’t have a problem with it.
He’d stumbled down the stairs and into the living room, staring at his parents, his mouth opening and closing, but nothing came out. His mom had asked, “So, when is Brent coming over?” And that was it.
He’d never had to have the sit-down talk, the horrendous coming out speech, because his parents knew him, and his sexuality didn’t bother them at all.
The only thing they worried about was how others would be with him, how they would treat him and that worry only grew when he told them he was joining the Marines. They’d made sure he knew how to defend himself and he’d left with the knowledge that they loved him regardless of who he chose to be with.
While he was in, he never admitted to his sexual preferences, but he knew he wasn’t the only gay person there. Most people he worked with figured out his sexuality, and apart from a few snide remarks, no one commented. Dean was damn good at his job and several times he’d saved the people he worked with. They were a team, they relied on each other for their very lives, and at the end of the day, the team he worked with didn’t give a shit who he fucked. They had his back, and he had theirs, and that was it.
When an IED killed three of his team, Dean knew his time was coming to an end. Watching his teammates, his friends, die changed something in him. Kneeling in the hot sun, the sun beating down on his back, staring at the devastation around him and trying to stem the blood flow from his friend, Matty, was an image that would haunt him for the rest of his days. He’d seen worse injuries, seen people blown to bits, but Matty had been his friend from the day they’d started boot camp together and then he was gone.
“Hey, you okay?” Donnie asked as he sat next to him at the table.
“Yeah, I was just thinking about my time in the Marines.”
“Afghanistan or Iraq?”
“I’ve done back-to-back tours to Afghanistan,” Dean muttered, shrugging. Leaning back in his chair, he threw his arm over the back. “You know what it’s like. The heat, the unrelenting sun, friends who are no longer with us.”
Donnie nodded, leaning on the table. “Yeah, I know. I lost a lot of good friends while on tour, but that was then, and this is now.” As he spoke, Donnie glanced over at Jeremy and smiled.
Dean glanced over, catching the look Jeremy gave Donnie and glanced away. He could tell from the looks on their faces that they were talking to each other, private words not meant for him or Wyatt, but he didn’t begrudge them their happiness. He knew what Donnie had experienced on tour, having experienced it himself, and he was happy that his friend had found his mate and that he was doing a job he loved that allowed him to help others. Donnie was made for this work, built to save people, and Jeremy was made to stand beside him, holding him together when things went wrong and people were lost.
“It’s why I have the tats, so I never forget the ones who didn’t make it back,” Dean muttered as he looked across the table at Wyatt, catching his eyes and giving him a smile. He didn’t know what it was about this vampire that drew him in, but he had his suspicions, having seen how the other mates reacted to each other. He couldn’t say for certain, he would need Wyatt to tell him, but he was certain that that was why he was attracted to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
He needed to be patient, he knew of Wyatt’s past and how he’d been abandoned by his family, that he’d lived on his own the last eight years. He didn’t know all the details, just the basics. Wyatt wasn’t willing to say anything more. Dean had to respect Wyatt’s wishes and just hoped that over time as Wyatt got to know him better, he would open up and share more of himself with Dean.
He knew how Wyatt had been captured, wrong time, wrong place kind of thing. Seeing something he shouldn’t have. Seeing Carter’s family being forced into a van and then grabbed from behind.
“So, Wyatt, do you like working with Jeremy and the bakery?”
Wyatt jerked, startled by the question, and Dean watched as he swallowed then gave him a small smile. “It’s good. I think we both know I’m not going to make chef of the year though.”
Jeremy chuckled. “You need more patience, Wyatt. That’s your problem.”
“They smell so good, yet we have to stand there waiting for them to cook.” Wyatt rolled his eyes. “I just want to take a bite.”
“He’s much better at the front of shop, seeing to the customers. He’s got a little group of old ladies who come in to see him.”
Wyatt blushed, dropping his head, and Dean grinned. “I can’t help it if they like me,” he muttered.
“They don’t like you, Wyatt, they love you. I think they like you more than me.” Jeremy grinned.
Dean chuckled. “Maybe they want to mother you.”
Wyatt grimaced, his hands curling into fists. “I had a mom and look how she turned out. No thank you, I don’t want any more. I’ve managed on my own all these years and I can do it again.”
Dean reached across the table and grabbed his hand, frowning when Wyatt snatched it away. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Wyatt. I was only joking with you.”
“I keep telling him he needs to calm down and relax more,” Donnie said, a grin on his face. “Wyatt here needs to get laid.”
Wyatt glanced at Dean then looked away. “I’ve had plenty of sex, thank you very much.”
Dean’s frown deepened. He didn’t like the thought of Wyatt having sex with anyone other than him, and if that wasn’t a huge clue that this vampire was probably his mate than he didn’t know what else was.
Dean sat back and listened as Wyatt and Donnie bantered, with the occasional line thrown in by Jeremy. Wyatt had spent the last eight years on his own, with no family to support him, having to deal with everything that life threw his way. He admitted he was envious at the close relationship Wyatt shared with Jeremy and Donnie. He could admit that he wished Wyatt had that with him, but he couldn’t begrudge the man — vampire — having someone in his corner.
He wanted Wyatt to look at him with that open face and relaxed expression. At the moment all he did was hide behind his long curly hair, his eyes occasionally peeking out between the strands, giving Dean a glimpse of those brilliant green eyes he had.
His eyes dropped to Wyatt’s lips. He wanted to feel those lips on his, he wanted to feel them on his body and he wanted to see them stretched around his dick.
He pitched on his chair, trying to relieve the ache in his hard dick, and a glance over at Donnie told him that he could scent his arousal. That meant Wyatt could too.
A quick glance in Wyatt’s direction and Dean could see the faint blush covering his cheeks. He coughed and squirmed, desperately trying to stop thinking of Wyatt that way, but every time he looked at him, his thoughts turned dirty.
Standing, he muttered, “Bathroom.”
He practically ran from the kitchen, slamming the bathroom door closed behind him and leaning ba
ck against it, panting harshly and willing his dick to go down.
The kitchen table looked too damn good, and he could easily imagine spreading Wyatt’s naked body out over it as he sank his dick into Wyatt and felt him squeeze around him.
“Shit,” he muttered, running his hands over his face and through his hair.
He needed to get a grip, the last thing he wanted was to scare Wyatt off. But if what he suspected was true, then Wyatt should be feeling the same way, so why hadn’t he said anything?
Maybe he didn’t know what he was feeling? Maybe he didn’t know that mates existed? Dean snorted. Of course he knew mates existed, he was living with Jeremy and Donnie.
Leaning forward, he flushed the toilet and glanced in the mirror, running his hand through his hair to try and sort out the mess it was in. Taking several deep breaths, he opened the door and slowly walked back into the kitchen. The food was all laid out on the table already and as he took his seat, he smiled at everyone. “Sorry about that.”
He tucked in and prayed that he could keep his dick under control.
As soon as he shut the front door behind him, Dean leaned back against it, his fingers fumbling with his button and zipper, shoving his jeans down around his thighs and grabbing his hard dick. He groaned as his hand tightened around it and he ran his thumb over the head, shivering at the contact.
He bit his lip and stroked his heated flesh, moaning again. His balls were tight already, and he knew it wouldn’t take much to tip him over the edge. He only had to pump a handful of times before he came, erupting all over his abdomen and chest. He gasped, crying out as white heat rolled through him. His body jerked with every pulse of come and he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut, his body shuddering.
As his orgasm ebbed away, he leaned back against the door, the sweat cooling on his skin. He opened his eyes and breathed deeply.
“Shit,” he muttered. He had it bad for Wyatt. He couldn’t decide what he wanted more. His dick in Wyatt’s ass, or Wyatt’s dick in his. He didn’t care who did what to who. He just needed to feel Wyatt, touch him, smell him, taste him. “Shit,” he muttered again.
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