Page 105 of Broken Bonds

Coming Home

I fight the urge to blow the speed limit all the way home.

Because I want to get home to Mal and this is the first time I’ve had someone to rush home to.

Technically, he’s not “mine,” but try telling my heart that.

I wish I could have told my best friend yeah, I have a mate bond with Mal.

But I can’t lie to him even if it feels a lot like I’m lying to myself.

Wishing I feel a mate bond and swearing it to my pack Alpha are two totally different things.

And like hell will I lie just to save myself some mental anguish if Jax orders Mal needs to leave.

Not to mention the kid’s young—I’m 61, and while that’s still on the young end for a shifter like me, Mal’s only 25. There’s a huge world out there he’s never been able to see, to sample.

To play around in.

He escaped a horrible, abusive situation. He’s never had a chance to have real, honest relationships. What he feels for me might seem genuine to him now.

Once he’s had a chance to experience more, he might realize what he feels for me is no more than new relationship energy, a sexual feeding frenzy that, once sated, might completely change.

Even if he stays and completes initiation, what if he discovers he has an immediate bond with someone else in the pack? Where would that leave me?

Jax is right—I can’t claim he’s my mate when I don’t know, and I damned sure know Mal has no clue what’s in his head right now. His little head is currently doing the majority of his thinking—and rightfully so. I feel bad he was raised in such a toxically claustrophobic setting.

I also make a note to tell my guys that if Burt should come begging for a place to stay around here, he’s not welcome. He stayed with me for three days upon his initial arrival, and I remember that little fucker was so lazy I could barely get him to do any basic housework, much less help out in the barns.

Nothing like Mal, or like most of the guys who show up who are so grateful for a chance to have a safe place that I usually end up telling them to chill out and stop working, because they’ll refuse to take time off.

Burt’s an immature idiot who’s about to realize being a member of a pack isn’t simply about taking and taking without giving back.

Last time I was over at the omega group house where he lives, about three months ago, he wasn’t home. I remember the guys all bitching about him. Wouldn’t shock me if this is the no-guilt excuse they use to boot him, suspecting Jax will back them up, meaning it’s likely none of the other omega houses will take him, either.

Jax rarely intervenes in matters in any of the group homes unless there’s a serious allegation of wrongdoing. The houses set their own rules—within reason—and guys with different personalities tend to filter into the houses that best suit them. There are several group houses for the single male omegas, one that’s all single male gammas, and two that are mixed single males, except for Alphas.

Alphas can rarely share a house for long with other Alphas unless they’re related or long-term close friends.

Or, obviously, mated to each other, but we only have one pair of mated male Alphas, and they’re completely different shifter races—a ram and a fox—and apparently they rarely butt heads.

No pun intended.

It’s close to 9:00 when I park in my usual spot next to the house and head to the back door. I figure Mal has probably gone to bed already but I’m pleasantly surprised when I open the kitchen door and spot a lamp and the TV on in my living room.

Mal’s head immediately pops up from where he was lying on the couch, and the smile he gives me twists my heart into knots so tight I don’t know how I’ll ever untangle them.

“Hey,” he says, jumping up and scurrying in. It’s already an automatic function my body has to reach out, pull him in, and kiss him. He’s wearing a T-shirt and shorts and is barefoot. While I hadn’t planned to, I find myself deepening our kiss when he wraps his arms around my neck and my hands cup his ass, lifting him.

His legs slide around my waist and it’d be too damned easy to walk him down to my bedroom, shred those shorts off him, and fuck him senseless.

I settle for squeezing his adorably tight ass as we kiss, and I know he feels my erection through my jeans.

It could’ve been a minute or a year before we finally come up for air, our foreheads touching, my mouth full of his sweet taste and my lungs full of his scent.

“Hey,” I finally say back, earning me a smile. “I take it you rested today?”

“Um, no. I realized if I stayed inside I’d probably yank my cock off, so I went to the barn and worked with the guys.” He unwinds his legs from around me to stand, so I release his ass but I keep my hands splayed across his back, holding him pressed to me. He hasn’t let go of my neck, either.