Page 44

MONOPOLY MAN

Pember

Pember kicked off his shoes and lowered himself into the space beneath Blake’s arm. Tentatively, he rested a hand between the alpha’s ribs, the cotton T-shirt clinging to the planes of his chest as it rose and fell beneath his palm.

The warmth from the fire was nothing compared to the heat radiating from Blake’s body, and it was taking all of Pember’s self-restraint not to coil himself around him like a giant body pillow.

The tips of his fingers traced the crinkles in Blake’s T-shirt, following the lines of his body until they came to rest in the dip of his navel.

“Why don’t you shift?” Blake whispered, circling the tip of a finger across Pember’s hip.

Pember wet his lips, turning his face into the crook of Blake’s neck. His eyes were growing heavy, but he didn’t want to fall asleep yet.

Inhaling, he said, “Because of my mum.”

“She didn’t let you?”

Pember swallowed, pressing his lips into a tight line. “No. When she was a teenager, her parents put her on lupine blockers.”

Blake let out a breath, pulling Pember tighter against his chest. “They’re extremely illegal.”

“I know. She was a ballet dancer. According to her, everyone on the circuit was doing them. They dulled the wolf part of people’s brains, making them more focused and less impulse driven.

It meant dancers had greater control, letting them focus on the technical movements.

Everyone was at it back in the eighties—surgeons, pilots, engineers. Shocking, right?”

“And it affected her ability to shift long-term?”

“Yes. Dad used to take me and Immy out when he could, but then he died and that was the end of it. I shifted a few times during uni, but she smelled it on me and made my life hell.”

His wolf whimpered inside him, and Pember’s fingers twitched as though running them through it’s fur. Blake remained silent, save for his steady breaths warming Pember’s hair.

“Who won Monopoly, by the way?” Pember said, voice sounding far away, even to his own ears.

Blake sighed. “Hard to say. I’m not sure Val quite understood the rules. She kept buying properties on Mayfair, even though she had no money.”

Pember grinned against his neck. “Were you the dealer?”

“Technically. But we all know it was Cherry controlling the cash.”

“You should have given her the money to support her lavish lifestyle.”

Blake chuckled. “I would have, if the bird didn’t keep stealing it. She’s made a nest on top of the kitchen cupboard.” His fingers brushed idly over the curve of Pember’s ear.

The glow of the fire illuminated the cords in Blake’s neck, the jut of his Adam’s apple, the slight angle of his nose.

The scent of him so close, the heat of his body…

It was making Pember dizzy again, and without even thinking he leaned in and brushed his lips across the delicate skin of Blake’s collarbone.

“Next time you’re the dealer,” he whispered, closing his eyes, “you should wear a top hat and monocle. Cane in one hand, George in the other. Lord of the corgis.”

A sound rumbled in Blake’s chest, and Pember nuzzled into the angle of his jaw.

“You think so?” Blake whispered.

“Yeah.”

Blake shifted, the sofa dipping as he pulled their bodies together. He wrapped Pember in his arms, cradling his head against his chest. Pember’s palm drifted along his side, fingertips mapping out each taut line, every oblique, every lean strip of serratus muscle covering his ribcage.

Blake mirrored his movements, hand gliding along the narrow curve of Pember’s hip to push the silky blue shirt over his midriff. His fingers lingered over the bare skin of his waist, the pad of his thumb drawing shapes across his ribs.

Pember wriggled, biting his lip as he pressed his face further into Blake’s neck.

“Ticklish?” Blake murmured.

“A little.”

Blake drew Pember’s chin up, the amber glow of the fire reflecting in each other’s eyes.

They stayed like that for several moments—noses touching, each breathing the other in. Pember felt like he might drown under the intensity of Blake’s gaze, his mismatched eyes looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Fingers dipping beneath Blake’s T-shirt, Pember traced a path from his hip to his chest before finally splaying over Blake’s heart. He wasn’t wearing the monitor.

“You said the other day that your future doesn’t matter,” Pember whispered, pressing a kiss to Blake’s chin. “It does. Because I want you to be a part of mine.”

Blake let out a long breath, followed by another. His mouth twitched as though a reply was forming and un-forming on his tongue. Eventually, the tension across his shoulders unfurled and he said, “When you’re alone at night, do you think of me as I think of you?”

Pember’s mouth crinkled into a smile. “Yes.” Then he pressed their lips together in a slow, careful kiss.

Pember sighed, reaching up to run both hands through Blake’s hair, fingers revelling in the prickliness of his undercut.

They melted together under Val’s patchwork blanket, the sofa barely big enough for the two of them.

Moaning softly, Pember dragged an ankle around Blake’s calf, drawing his thigh between his legs.

Blake’s chest rumbled, a sound that sent ripples of pleasure through Pember’s body. It made him hard and soft and pliant all at once, and it was a wonder he didn’t dissolve into a puddle of goo. Their tongues pressed together like long-lost lovers, tasting each other in a torturously slow rhythm.

Sliding a hand from Blake’s chest, Pember caressed the pebbled skin under his arms before gripping the hard muscle across his back.

Blake pulled Pember’s other hand to his mouth, drawing back the stupid floaty sleeve.

He kissed the delicate skin of Pember’s wrist, tongue tracing his radial artery and making his pulse quicken.

Then, he dipped his face into his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, fangs grazing the scent gland behind his ear.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispered, pushing Pember’s shirt over his chest. “But I think I prefer you like this.”

Pember struggled to quiet a moan. “R-rain soaked and mud covered?”

“Yes,” Blake replied, pressing a hard kiss under his jaw. He tipped Pember’s head back, fully exposing his throat before letting his fangs graze his fever-hot flesh.

Holding his gaze, Blake slowly closed his mouth and kissed the places where his fangs had touched.

He found Pember’s hand again, pushing it above his head and entwining their fingers.

Nudging Pember’s legs apart, he lowered himself between them.

Pember groaned at the feel of Blake’s hardness rubbing against his own.

“Can I take them off?” Blake said, reaching down to tap the button of Pember’s trousers.

His confidence sputtered like a dying flame. It was one thing to rip his clothes off in the heat of the moment, it was another thing entirely to be laid bare as Blake slowly removed one layer at a time. He swallowed, hand gripping the cushion beneath his head.

“I-I, um?—”

Blake let out a soft breath, leaning down to kiss Pember’s forehead. “It’s okay, I?—”

“Yes,” Pember whispered, the flush lighting up his face obvious even in the glow of the fire. “Yes, take them off.”

There was a moment where their eyes locked, and Pember’s chest rose and fell until he finally lifted his hips and let Blake slide them down. His socks also came off after negotiating the curve of his heel, and he cursed himself for not choosing sexier underwear.

Blake didn’t seem to mind as the tips of his fingers brushed over the black cotton of his briefs, pinching the material across his inner thigh.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about these pants?” Blake said, touching the tip of his tongue to the valley of Pember’s hip.

Pember let out a breathy laugh. “Probably as many as I’ve thought about you on the treadmill.”

Blake’s mouth tipped into a grin, before he pushed up and claimed Pember’s lips again. It cracked him open, making a string of soft moans escape his throat. Pushing up onto his elbows, Pember met Blake’s mouth in a series of messy, wet kisses that made his head spin.

Blake growled, glancing towards the stairs as though Val might appear at any moment. When the space remained vacant, he tugged his T-shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. A rush of saliva pooled on Pember’s tongue. Blake was all lean muscle carved over a long frame.

Blake’s mouth returned to his neck, kissing and sucking the skin in a feverish way. His palm trailed up Pember’s calf, pausing at the knee before grazing up his thigh. He stopped just below the seam of his underwear.

His fingertips explored the soft flesh of Pember’s thighs. Just a few millimetres to the right, and he’d be dipping into his crease, touching his balls and feeling the downy curls of his pubic hair.

Pember sighed as Blake’s mouth moved to the planes of his chest, kissing and licking his damp skin like it contained the elixir of life.

In that moment, it didn’t matter that they were on Val’s sofa, or that there was probably a temperamental parrot watching them from on top of the kitchen cabinets.

All that mattered was Blake’s mouth on his nipples.

Every nip, Blake covered it with a kiss.

With every sigh, Pember felt himself slipping further and further into bliss.

His fingers were in Blake’s hair again, tugging and pulling as the alpha mouthed a path from his navel to the waistband of his briefs.

His lips went lower still, kissing the line of his cock and making it buck in his rapidly dampening underwear.

Blake dropped one leg over the edge of the sofa, the other tucked beneath his body. The seat really was too small.