by Kathy Lyons
He put his head next to Josh’s, smelling the scent of the man, sort of sweet and earthy—like cherry pie eaten in the jungle. It was a weird image, but Nero often categorized things by food. And he loved cherry pie.
“I’m going to touch you now. I’ll stop if you want someone else or if you want to do it yourself, but you need to climax. It’s the only way to keep you alive.” He slipped his hands under Josh’s T-shirt, stroking his right hand across the man’s belly. His skin was soft, the hair was minimal, and Josh exhaled as if he had been waiting for a very long time for this sensation.
“I could try eating something else,” Josh said quietly. “Go slow. Get a Gatorade or something.”
“We could, and it might have worked thirty minutes ago, but not now.” Nero stroked his hand up Josh’s chest. The hair was amazingly soft, and the guy was too thin. His ribs were noticeable bumps along his path. Damn it, he should have seen that earlier. No one this thin was into food. “Really think, Josh. Do you want something in your stomach now?”
The man shuddered in revulsion. “No.”
“Then trust that.” He slid his other hand under the shirt, pulling it up and gently maneuvering it off. And now that Josh was naked from the waist up, Nero could see—and feel—the attractive details of the man’s body. There was muscle definition here. Strong pecs, tight abs, maybe 6 percent body fat. He must work out some, or maybe he was naturally sculpted like a thin Michelangelo statue. Either way, he had the right body to send Nero’s libido into overdrive. There wasn’t any distance between Josh’s glutes and Nero’s dick. Nothing except Josh’s old jeans and Nero’s easily ripped khakis. Nero’s cock began to thicken and pulse with hunger.
Just another mission.
Meanwhile, he continued rubbing Josh’s chest. Up and down the silky, smooth skin while he felt the man breathe. Every inhale pushed into Nero’s hands, and every exhale dropped Josh closer, tighter against him.
“I should have realized this before. That woody you had when I tackled you, that was because of this. It was your body telling you you need this.”
“I didn’t…. I wasn’t attracted to you,” Josh muttered. “It happens sometimes.”
“Of course it does. Because this is what you need. It settles you.” And before Josh could object further, Nero pinched his right nipple.
Josh gasped, his body arching in surprise, but Nero didn’t let him escape. “This will ground you back in your body,” he argued. Then he pinched the other nipple. Josh’s reaction wasn’t startled this time, but his response was surprising. Instead of pulling away, he sank deeper into Nero’s embrace. He let Nero stroke him, pinch him, and arouse him. And Nero was all too willing to comply.
And didn’t that set off alarms everywhere? Nero reluctantly pulled his hands off of Josh’s body. He’d already proved to Josh that it was necessary. “I’ll stop now so you can finish it. The process has started, but you need to orgasm. You can do it yourself or—”
“You can.” The words came out husky and filled with need. Josh didn’t want to want this, but he obviously did.
“You want me to jerk you off? You need to say it out loud.” His lips quirked, though Josh couldn’t see it. “We do have ethics, though I’m sure they’re not obvious to you right now.”
“I…. Yes. Please… jerk me off.”
Yes.
Nero didn’t examine the surge of lust that rushed through him at Josh’s words. He simply returned to stroking the man. Josh’s earthy scent was growing stronger—muskier—as his body flushed with heat and arousal. He let his head drop back onto Nero’s shoulder, and Nero watched their reflection in the dark TV as Josh’s eyes drifted shut.
“That’s the way,” Nero encouraged. “Just go with it.”
Nero pressed his lips to Josh’s neck, tasting the salt of sweat and feeling the throb of the man’s pulse. And then he opened his mouth and ran his teeth along Josh’s skin. Josh moaned, and Nero’s own dick stiffened to painful. Anything he touched with his teeth and tongue was burned into his memory. Food and lovers, both held a cherished spot in his mind, never forgotten. Josh was there now, and Nero knew the taste of this man would haunt him. Even if this was the only time, whenever Nero smelled cherry pie, he would think of this moment.
So he did it again. And again. Letting his tongue and his teeth scrape across Josh’s skin, rubbing and tasting as if Josh were a fine meal to be savored, a delicate dessert to be enjoyed, or a special lover to be pleasured in a slow, sensuous exploration of taste and texture.
He slid his hands down to Josh’s jeans. He didn’t fumble with the button or the zipper, but he stilled when Josh gripped his wrist.
“You swear this isn’t some sick kind of game?”
If it was, then Nero was going to be the loser. He was going to live with this memory every night while he jerked himself off in a frenzy.
“Check yourself, Josh,” he said. “If I stopped right here, right now—”
“No.”
“See. Your body wants this, but you can do it yourself. I can leave you alone—”
“No. This is okay.” Josh released Nero’s wrist. He even shifted his hips enough to allow Nero to shove jeans and boxers down. And the very impressive erection that sprang free all but leaped into Nero’s hand.
“Damn,” Nero murmured appreciatively. “Are all the men your family this big?” Nero had a large hand, and it didn’t come close to covering the full length of Josh’s swollen cock.
“I never looked,” Josh said, though his voice held a note of pride.
“Bullshit,” Nero answered. “All boys look.”
Josh exhaled in relief as Nero began to stroke him. Strong, solid pulls while Josh gripped Nero’s thighs.
“Okay,” Josh confessed, “I did look. And I’m special, at least between my cousins and me. And I’m definitely bigger than my brother.”
Figured. And yes, the man’s cock was just the right size. Thick, hard, and with a nicely shaped mushroom head. Nero watched that head, seeing the color shift darker, feeling the pulse in the stalk, and loving the rhythmic tightening of Josh’s ass as he thrust. It was torture, that movement against Nero’s cock. And it was all he could do to prevent himself from thrusting up in tandem, from pushing himself against the sweet peach of Josh’s ass.
Just another mission.
It took a while for Josh to near the end. It was a measure of how close he’d come to not settling into his body, and it reassured Nero that what he was doing was absolutely necessary. Josh’s life was at stake, and he was doing what was right and proper for the new werewolf.
He continued to stroke Josh’s erection, roving his spare hand across Josh’s chest and belly. He pinched the man’s nipples, loving the sound of Josh’s gasps. And when Josh’s breath finally became erratic, when his hips were moving hard as he thrust into Nero’s hand, that’s when Nero lost his own control for a moment.
He shoved himself against Josh’s tight ass. He flexed his hips and ground against Josh. And in his mind was a steady litany of mine, mine, mine.
Josh wasn’t his. He was a temporary charge, a mission to get tech support and an answer for the plasma fire problem. This was business.
Except his body didn’t feel that way. And the scent of Josh’s musk, the feel of that huge dick, took a piece of Nero’s sanity with every breath.
It’s a mission.
Mine, mine, mine.
Josh gripped Nero’s thighs. He threw his head back onto Nero’s shoulder, and he thrust hard. Nero gripped him, squeezing with all his strength. And then one last hard pull, and it was done.
Josh cried out, exploding hot cum all over his chest and Nero’s hand. His body shuddered with the release, pushing more and more out with every beat. And Josh was a man in his prime with a strong dick. The force of the first release pushed his cum high enough to catch a drop on Nero’s mouth. A hot wet drop that fell on the lower curve of Nero’s lip. He licked it off instinctively, tasting the salt, knowing the texture o
f it on his tongue, and locking it permanently in his sense memory. Josh’s seed. Josh’s intimate release.
Josh. Josh. Josh.
Nero exploded in his khakis. Hot, hard, and with all the force of a man with his lover.
A mission.
Oh hell, he was well and truly fucked.
Chapter 8
HEAT SUFFUSED Josh’s body, but there was no clear meaning attached. He knew he felt pleasure and a shitload of endorphins, but there was also embarrassment and shame. He’d been jerked off by his kidnapper, and he’d liked it. Hell, he’d asked for it. How fast did Stockholm syndrome kick in? Probably not within the first few hours, and yet here he sat, completely boneless in the man’s arms, missing the feel of his captor’s hand on his dick.
And what a hand it had been. Thick, hard, with the right grip. The calluses were sweet, and the feel of the big man surrounding him had taken him to an orgasmic peak he’d never experienced before. So did this mean he was well and truly gay? Or really twisted?
“How do you feel?” Nero’s voice rumbled low and sweet through Josh’s body. Both the man’s hands were now stroking Josh’s arms, up and down in a soothing, almost lazy rhythm.
“You did it too,” Josh said, the confusing words spilling out without filter.
“What?”
“I felt it. You….” Exploded like a teenage boy. “You came too.”
Silence. Josh wondered if the man was going to lie about it, but eventually Nero sighed. “Yeah, I did. That happens sometimes. Don’t think about it. Think about your body. How does it feel?”
Like it had just had the best orgasm of his life. But Josh didn’t say that. Instead, he focused on the heat on his skin, the gentle skim of caresses up and down his arms, and the steady heartbeat behind his back. Nero’s solid ka-thump, ka-thump was like the beat of a big drum. It made him feel safe on a subliminal level. And no matter how many times he told himself that he couldn’t get comfortable, that he didn’t trust this man as far as he could throw him, he couldn’t deny the way that ka-thump felt against his back.
“I’m good,” he said.
“Then I’m going to get up and get something to clean up with. You okay with that?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. I can—”
“Stay right here. You feel good right now, but Mother used to faint if she stood up too fast. So do us both a favor and relax. Let me take care of things right now, okay?”
“Okay.”
Nero shifted, drawing his leg out and twisting his large body around. “I’m also going to heat up some broth for you, so this will take me a moment. Please don’t try to get up or run away. The windows and doors are locked, and you’re likely to end up passed out on the floor. I swear I’m not trying to hurt you.”
That harmonic resonance was back in the guy’s voice, so he knew Nero was speaking the truth. He really was trying to look out for Josh, even if that meant jerking him off on the couch. God, he squirmed internally whenever he thought about that, so he gave up the fight. He didn’t have the mental resources for it. And though he’d likely damn himself for it later, Josh nodded and closed his eyes as he relaxed back against the cushions.
Nero spent a moment helping him readjust some throw pillows so that his back was supported, and then Josh exhaled happily while someone else took care of him.
His mind went blank as he listened to Nero moving around the kitchen, putting something in the microwave. And then there were all those bathroom noises before his heavy steps returned to the couch. Josh opened his eyes to see the big man looking awkward as he hovered with a thick washcloth in his hand.
“I’m going to clean you up, okay?”
Josh could have done it himself, but when he’d given up, he’d done it all the way. He nodded, then closed his eyes in pleasure as the warm fabric brushed across his chest and belly. Then it slid lower, and he was already thickening in anticipation. But that was too far to go. A first ejaculation could be put down to being overwhelmed. A second would be intimate, and so he stopped Nero with a raised hand.
“I got it,” he rasped. And he did. He took the cloth and cleaned up with a few quick swipes; then, while Nero took the cloth back, Josh tucked everything away. He even pulled his T-shirt on while Nero went back to the kitchen. By the time the big guy returned with a bowl of dark broth and saltine crackers, everything looked normal and yet felt totally weird.
“It’s bone broth,” Nero said as he sat down on the coffee table and held out the soup. “Take it slow, but eat it all.”
Josh meant to reach for the soup. He really did. His hands went out and his mind said, Take the soup, eat it all, get strong enough to get your head on straight. But he watched with a kind of dumbfounded shock as his hands went to Nero’s face instead. And while the big guy was leaning forward to pass him the soup, Josh pulled their faces together for a kiss.
Nero’s body stiffened a moment, but only for a fraction of a second. And even so, his mouth was never hard. His lips were full and sweet as they moved across Josh’s with gentle confidence. And when Nero’s tongue pressed forward, Josh surrendered to him with openmouthed abandon. He let the guy touch him everywhere—tongue, teeth, and the roof of his mouth. And as excitement heated his blood, his own tongue came alive. It thrust forward, then ducked back. He dueled and fought for dominance while his heart pounded and his hands began to grip. He angled Nero’s head and he surged forward, thrusting into Nero’s mouth like a man demanding his due.
And to his utter delight, Nero gave way. He opened up for the kind of foreplay Josh loved. Give and take, surrender and dominance, a back-and-forth that had him rising off the couch to pursue this further.
Nero was the one who broke free. His breath was coming hard as he jerked back. And then he cursed with a sharp bark of surprise. It took a moment for Josh to realize why. The guy had spilled hot soup on himself and rapidly set the bowl down before shaking off his wrist. The skin there was flushed red, and Josh had the strongest urge to lick it better.
Nero didn’t give him the chance. He was already straightening up, away from the coffee table, and dropping the crackers. A second look told Josh that he’d spilled half the soup on his pants and more onto the floor.
“Damn it,” Nero muttered as he stripped off his shirt and dropped it onto the carpet to soak up the spill. “Mother is going to bitch about that. I swear her human nose can smell spilled—” His words choked off, and for a moment the guy froze. He was crouched in front of Josh, his glorious torso flushed as he pressed his shirt into the carpet, but his whole body went rigid. And then Josh looked at his face and felt his heart lurch at the naked grief. Nero’s mouth was open in shock and his eyes were wide. A sheen of tears reflected the light, but not a single sound or movement shook the frozen tableau. It was as if Nero held his whole body rigid in fear of what would come out if he relaxed any part of himself, even for a second.
It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. He’d seen grief like this before. Mother was gone—probably dead—and the event was so recent that Nero’d forgotten for a moment that she wasn’t here.
Well, shit. Whatever else was going on, Josh instantly felt bad for someone in the depths of that much pain. So he reached down to finish sopping up the spill. He gently tugged on Nero’s wrist and spoke in a gentle tone.
“I’ve got this. Go clean up.”
Nero pulled himself together with visible effort. His body tightened and he shook his head. “You’re the new wolf. It’s my responsibility to care for you.”
And responsibility was clearly a big deal to this guy.
“I’m fine, and your pants are a mess.” He touched Nero’s chin and caught his gaze. Damn, if ever a man looked lost, it was this guy. He was alone and yet still fighting with everything he had to hold it together, to do his duty, to be the alpha in charge. “I’m good,” he repeated. “Get cleaned up.” Then he sighed. “I don’t think I’m going to run away anytime soon. There’s so much to learn here.” He let his lips curve into a ru
eful smile. “And I’ve never been able to resist that.”
He saw doubt cross Nero’s features. The man suspected a lie, but his exhaustion overrode any suspicion. Nero was simply too tired of fighting to question Josh’s apparent surrender. He nodded.
“I’ll… um… I’ll just be a minute.”
“Take whatever time you need.”
Nero didn’t respond. He’d already grabbed his shirt off the floor and headed into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a roll of paper towels that he tossed at Josh before he headed off down a hallway beyond the entertainment center. Bedroom wing, maybe?
Meanwhile, Josh finished cleaning up the mess, then carried his soup and crackers back to the kitchen. He felt stupidly weak but was able to slurp down the rest of the broth. That warmed his belly and steadied his head, but it did nothing for his chaotic emotions. He’d gone from trying to kill Nero a half hour ago to feeling tender empathy for the guy’s pain. And he had no answer for the lust that happened in the middle.
And none of it even touched on the Big Bad in his thoughts: the idea that he might be a werewolf, and WTF did that mean?
It was too much to deal with. So he sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen and nibbled on saltines. He focused on that one simple act, and before long, he heard Nero come back down the hall. The guy had changed into a navy blue polo and another pair of khakis. His hair was wet, as if he’d ducked his head under a faucet and then towel-dried it. His feet were bare, though, and for some reason Josh found those big dumb feet endearing. Like Fred Flintstone feet. Big and strong enough to run a cartoon car down a freeway on the way to the quarry.
Josh smiled at the image and was even more amused when Nero’s expression turned to confusion. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Just wondering how many pairs of khakis you have.”