Page 10

I took a gulp of my energy drink, rubbed my eyes, and started my truck.

To say that I was struggling would be an understatement. The jitters and sense of displacement had cleared up for a few days, but had come roaring back with a vengeance.

I’d had the first good night’s sleep in what felt like months after Tripp and I spent the evening with Ollie at the bar. I’d been horny as hell once I got home, but was well-rested the next morning. And, for several more nights, I’d assumed that whatever had plagued me had passed.

Then a couple of busy days kept me from sitting with Tripp at the bar, and, whatever was happening, was even worse.

It had become so evident that even Tammy had noticed, and she’d asked if I was sick over several mornings.

“Only a few hours left today,” I muttered as I waited at a light. I took a deep breath as the light turned green and listened to the roar of the engine as I drove through the intersection.

“Maybe I’ll put in for some time off after the new year,” I said to myself. “Can’t do it during the holidays, but maybe once the gift rush is over.”

At least there was the daily bright spot: seeing Ollie. I was busy enough that the interaction had to be brief, but he always gave me one of his shy smiles. He’d also started to provide daily treats. Sometimes it was a bottle of water and a granola bar, others it was a handful of homemade cookies. While he wasn’t the only person on my route to do something nice, it felt different coming from him.

The sweet omega was still on my mind as I turned into his neighborhood. I had a large delivery for him, which meant a few extra seconds in his presence.

I turned onto the street with the cul-de-sac and blinked when I saw Tripp’s truck parked in front of Ollie’s house, a hand truck waiting by the open rear door.

Tripp leaned back from where he’d been working in the cargo area of his truck and nodded at me as I pulled behind him and turned off my mine.

I waved as I stood and headed into the back of my truck to pull Ollie’s boxes. As usual, they were heavier than expected for their size, and I decided that the hand truck was the way to go.

I loaded the four boxes and wheeled the cart up Ollie’s driveway to where he was working in the open garage.

“Over here, Ax,” Tripp said from where he stood next to his hand truck. “That way Ollie doesn’t have to carry them through the house.”

Since when does he call me Ax?

I shook my head and pushed my hand truck over, where I saw Ollie working inside, surrounded by shelves full of boxes.

The first thing I noticed was the light sheen of sweat coating Ollie’s forehead, then his scent hit me, delicious and enticing.

“Sorry,” Ollie said, pushing up his glasses—his fingers brushing a knit beanie. “You can leave them right there.”

I glanced around the space. There were several open boxes on the floor, and what appeared to be newly cleared shelf space. “Which shelves do you want these on?” I asked.

Ollie shook his head. “It’s ok! I’ll do it.”

I laughed. “It’ll take me the same amount of time to unload them either way. Point me to the shelf while you go grab your outbound.”

“He’s right,” Tripp agreed. “I don’t like leaving tall stacks unsupported, so I’d be unloading boxes too. Might as well put them where they need to go.”

Ollie looked between us, then breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” He pointed at the shelves. “Right there is fine. Labels out if possible.”

I nodded and pushed my hand truck closer. “Got it.”

“I’ll be right back with the outbound,” Ollie stated as he scurried off.

“Left and right, or top and bottom?” Tripp asked as he studied the shelves.

“You can take the bottom,” I replied.

“Ooh, promise?” Tripp teased as he hefted a box and slid it onto the shelf.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the combination of Ollie’s and Tripp’s scent, but I suddenly had thoughts of taking Tripp like that.

Tripp laughed, jolting me from my daydream. “Your silence tells me you like that idea.”

“Fuck you,” I snarled.

“Weren’t we just discussing that?”

A retort died on my lips as Ollie returned, and I shifted to hide my erection. I grabbed a box and slid it onto the upper shelf.

“Thanks, guys,” Ollie said softly. “You didn’t have to.”

“My idle monitor will be chirping at me when I get back to the truck, but it’s not like I would have saved that much time by just leaving them,” I replied.

Tripp laughed. “How about you make it up to us by joining us at the bar tonight?”

Ollie sighed. “I wish, but I have to go through those boxes and inspect everything. These are my Christmas designs, and I should have been shipping them weeks ago. But everything got pushed back for the move, so now I’m behind. It’s going to be late nights for me—sorting and packing—until the Christmas shipping deadline.”

I slid another box onto the shelf. “So you’re saying we should bring a bag for pickups now?”

“Probably,” Ollie sheepishly replied. “At least through the holidays.”

“Noted,” Tripp stated as he slid his last box onto the shelf. He pulled his scanner from his belt, and I heard the familiar beep as he accepted his outbound. Then the bouncing sound of an empty hand truck as he wheeled it back out.

I hefted my last box and pushed it onto the shelf.

“Thanks again,” Ollie mumbled as he handed over the outbound for me. “That was really sweet of you guys.”

I smiled, savoring his presence. “It was nothing.”

He shook his head. “I know it’s getting to be your busy season. Every minute counts.”

“Some things are worth an extra minute.”

His cheeks flushed an adorable pink, and he pushed up his glasses. “I… Ummm…”

I laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Tomorrow.”

My empty hand truck bounced and rattled as I returned to my truck. I secured it and had just started the engine when Tripp stopped his truck beside me and motioned for me to open the window.

“See you tonight?” he yelled over the roar of our engines.

I blinked. Even though we often ended up at the bar together, it had never been a coordinated thing.

Why the hell not?

“Sure,” I yelled back.

He grinned. “Great. See you then.”

I waved as he drove off, then shook my head and got moving.

The rest of my route was uneventful, with Tripp and I leapfrogging each other a couple of times. However, there was a weird fluttering in my middle whenever I thought about that night.

It didn’t make sense. Tripp and I sat together at the bar all the time now. It hadn’t ever been planned before, but it wasn’t new. So why the strange anticipation?

I was tired by the time I got home, but I wasn’t going to stand Tripp up. I changed out of my uniform and walked into the bar twenty minutes later.

Tripp was there, but instead of sitting at the bar, he’d grabbed a table off to one side.

I was glad it was a quiet night as I made my way around the pool tables and sat across from him.

“Already busy?” he asked, pushing a bottle of beer toward me.

I took a drink, then nodded. “You know how it is this time of year.”

He laughed. “I figure in another week we’ll be too busy for the bar, at least on work nights.”

“Yep.” I sighed. “You got any seasonal guys worth a damn?”

He shrugged. “Some good, some bad. Just like every other year. We’ll probably pick up a few full-timers from the good ones. You?”

“Same.”

“That was sweet…” Trip started, “what you did for Ollie today.”

“Hmm?”

He snickered. “We both know you could have dropped the boxes and left. But you put them on the shelves.”

“So did you,” I argued.

“Of course! I’d have looked like an asshole if I just left.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Sorry for putting you on the spot like that.”

He smiled. “No problem. Besides… it smelled so good in there. He must have been working hard before we arrived.”

“I didn’t want to leave.”

“How long did it take for your boner to go down?”

I groaned. “You noticed?”

Tripp laughed. “It was kind of hard to miss, especially with you trying to hide it.” He leaned in. “But the real question is: who was it for? Ollie and his sweet scent, or me teasing you?”

Both.

The internal answer was surprising, but true. I’d been hard for both of them.

I swallowed, and Tripp’s eyes followed the movement of my Adam’s apple. His pupils widened, and my cock swelled in my pants.

His eyes met mine, and he tilted his head toward the bathroom.

I nodded.

Tripp stood. We kept eye contact for several seconds as he took a step away from the table.

It was a chance to back out—something I wasn’t going to do.

It was a wonderfully horrible idea. Nothing good could come from getting involved with Tripp. But that wasn’t going to stop me.

I was exhausted and horny, and I only wanted two men: Ollie and Tripp. It didn’t make sense, but I wasn’t interested in fighting it.

I gave Tripp a minute to get into the bathroom, then stood and followed.

The bartender’s eyes were on me as I weaved through tables, but he didn’t stop me. It made me wonder how often he saw the same scene play out every week.

I blinked as I entered the bathroom—the fluorescent lights significantly brighter than the rest of the bar.

Tripp poked his head out from the large stall at the far end, and I strode toward him.

I’d no more than locked the stall door when I had him pinned against the outer cinderblock wall, my lips against his—one hand in his brown hair and the other at his waist.

Every instinct—every cell in my body—needed this. I had to know the taste of him; the sounds he made as he came.

Pleasuring Tripp was more important than getting my own rocks off.

“Ax…,” he moaned, breaking the kiss. Hot air danced across my cheek in puffs as he tried to catch his breath while I moved on to kissing his jaw and nipping his neck.

He slung his arms over my shoulders, his hands fisting my shirt. “Don’t leave hickeys,” he panted.

I growled. Part of me wanted to look at him the next day and see the evidence, but I stopped biting.

Besides, there was something more important. I slid my hand down to Tripp’s hip, then across to cup his bulge. He hissed as I gently squeezed.

“Do you like that?” I growled in his ear.

“What the fuck do you think?” he breathed.

I chuckled, then drew down the zipper on his jeans. I slid my fingers through the opening and massaged him over his underwear.

“Get on with it before we get kicked out,” he whispered.

I let out a single laugh. “The bartender knows what’s up.”

“That doesn’t mean we can take our time.”

I sucked a spot beneath his ear until he moaned, then I popped the button and pushed my hand into his boxers. I slid my fingertips down his length, loving the feel of the delicate skin.

“Ax…” he breathed, removing his arms from around me just long enough to push his pants down and free his cock. Then he flung them over my shoulders again and clung to my shirt.

This was what I’d been craving: bringing another man pleasure.

I wrapped my hand around his shaft and gave him a few strokes.

“Good?” I asked as his breathing quickened.

“Yes…”

“More?”

He growled in frustration.

I laughed, released his cock long enough to spit on my palm, then started stroking him again.

Tripp’s head fell back, exposing the column of his throat.

It took all my willpower to keep myself from marking the smooth expanse of skin.

Tripp’s cock felt amazing in my hand: long, hard, and hot. The soft skin was like velvet against my fingertips, and the way he responded to my touch was incredible. His hips bucked whenever I wrapped my hand fully around him, and he whined needily when I’d switch to lightly running my fingertips up his length and around the head.

The way he moaned whenever I’d reach down to stroke his balls was like music made just for me.

I used the hand in his hair to angle his head so that I could kiss farther along his neck. I ran my nose along his hairline and caught a whiff of Ollie’s scent clinging to him.

Something inside me went feral. The combination of Tripp and Ollie’s scents awakened a desire I’d never known.

“Fuck it,” I growled. I released his hair to pull the collar of his shirt aside and started sucking on a patch of skin while exclusively stroking his cock.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Nobody will see it here,” I grunted. “It’ll be hidden by your uniform.”

“Fuuuuck,” he whimpered, thrusting into my hand.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

I growled as I resumed marking him. I tightened my grip on his cock and added a small twist at the end of every stroke.

I needed to ruin him; make it so that I was the only alpha he could imagine being with.

Tripp’s fingers dug into my back—my shirt the only thing protecting me from claw marks. Part of me hoped that there would still be something I could look at in the mirror as proof that this had really happened.

“Ax…” he panted. “Ax…”

“Come for me,” I ordered.

He let out a breathy whine as his cock started pulsing, hot spend coating my hand.

I struggled to hold back a roar of triumph. I’d done that—I’d made him come.

Instead, I used my grip on the back of his head to angle his face so that I could kiss him.

Tripp moaned into my mouth as his orgasm started to taper off, though he still clung to the back of my shirt as if he’d collapse without holding onto me.

It felt so right, and

I didn’t want to let him go.

His breath was hot against my face as I broke the kiss, and the way the air moved against my stubble sent shivers down my spine.

I released his cock, then, for some reason I couldn’t explain, I licked his spend from my hand.

“Fuck…” Tripp whispered.

I smirked at him and noted how his pupils widened.

He used his leverage on my shirt to pull me back for another kiss.

God, it felt so good to be kissing him. I could almost imagine a life with him, except something was missing.

Tripp released the back of my shirt. One hand slid through my hair, cradling the back of my head, the other he trailed down my front until he could massage my bulge—making me moan.

“Your turn,” he whispered as he finally broke the kiss.

“You don’t have to,” I breathed.

Tripp chuckled, then pushed me against the stall divider. “No way am I going to owe you one,” he growled. Then he leaned in and dragged his teeth along the shell of my ear. “Besides… I want to.”

I moaned as he nipped along my jaw, then he dropped to his knees and rubbed his face where my jeans were tented.

He hooked his fingers into my waistband, then glanced up.

I nodded as our eyes met, giving him permission.

His gaze remained locked as he popped the button and drew down the zipper. He only broke eye-contact when he pulled down my pants and boxers, freeing my cock.

I hissed as cool air swirled around my heated flesh, but the sound immediately turned into a moan as Tripp wrapped one hand around the shaft and licked the head.

He smirked, then pressed his kiss-swollen lips to the tip.

I watched, captivated, as his mouth opened and my cock disappeared into the wet heat. There was a pause as I hit the back of his throat, then a groan as he swallowed and took me deep.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” I breathed.

Tripp chuckled, sending shivers up my spine, then he started bobbing.

My head fell back against the stall divider, and my eyes fluttered shut. It was too good. My fingernails scraped the metal every time Tripp moaned or let his tongue dance along the most sensitive parts of my shaft. And I saw stars when he used his free hand to fondle my balls. It took every ounce of willpower to keep from thrusting into his mouth.

“I… I’m… I’m not gonna last,” I panted. I’d already been on the edge just from jerking him off.

He made an ‘mm-hmm’ sound that reverberated through me and made my toes curl.

“Triiiipp…”

He grabbed one of my hands and guided it to the back of his head.

The message was clear, and I immediately plunged both hands into his hair. My resolve was broken and I couldn’t hold back from fucking his face.

Tripp moaned and growled as he swallowed my cock over and over—letting me know how much he was enjoying it.

I forced my eyes open and looked down. His eyes were closed, his lips stretched around me.

I pulled back enough to let him breathe and brushed my fingertips over his cheek.

Tripp’s green eyes opened and met mine. He smiled as much as he could, then surged forward, taking me into his throat again.

That look was enough. His mouth was capable of working wonders, but the way his eyes conveyed how much he wanted to be there…

“I-I’m gonna…”

He squeezed my thigh at the same time he moaned.

I plunged myself deep and bit my lip to keep from crying out as I came.

Tripp swallowed greedily with every pulse. His fingers dug into my hips as he kept his nose buried against my skin.

It felt like the longest orgasm of my life as I kept coming, but eventually the pulses slowed, then stopped. I slumped against the stall divider, hoping my legs would be able to keep me up.

Tripp hummed as he used his tongue to clean my length before pulling off my cock.

“Wow…” I breathed.

“Good?” he teased, a slight rasp to his voice

“What do you think?”

He chuckled, and I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in just enough to hook my hands under his arms. I pulled him up and directly into a kiss.

The flavor of my spend on Tripp’s lips had me on the verge of getting hard again, but I somehow managed to keep my overeager cock in check as our tongues tangled.

We came up for air, and I was about to pull Tripp back in for more when the bathroom door opened.

We both froze as another man grunted, then the sound of a zipper.

Tripp grinned, mirth in his eyes, and I had to keep myself from bursting into laughter as we listened to the other man piss.

The zipper again, a grunt—probably as he adjusted himself—then the briefest sound of the faucet before the door opened again.

We waited for a few seconds, then Tripp burst into laughter. “Guess he couldn’t hold it any longer.”

“Seems that way,” I replied, giving him a gentler kiss.

“At least he pretended to wash his hands.”

I chuckled against his lips, then sighed.

There was a beat of silence, then Tripp echoed my sigh. “That was it, wasn’t it?”

I wrapped my arms around him and tucked his head against my shoulder. “Yeah.”

He stayed there for several seconds, then lifted his head, kissed my jaw, and stepped back.

I watched as he tucked his cock back into his boxers and pulled up his pants. I quickly did the same once he placed his hand on the lock.

We were silent as we made our way to the sinks and washed our hands.

I was almost miserable as we returned to our seats and finished our beers.

My mind drifted to how right being with him felt as I drove home.

But none of that mattered. It was a one-time thing, and we both knew it. A moment of weakness and nothing more.