Page 7

Gabe

I sit at my computer, staring at the screen, trying to concentrate on a customer’s website that desperately needs updating. The project should be simple enough—just a basic refresh—but my brain refuses to cooperate.

It’s been a stressful couple of days. Between trying not to completely give in to my body’s incessant demands for Mika and attempting to untangle the mess in my head, I’m exhausted. Sleep has become a cruel joke. Every time I lie down, all I do is toss and turn, arguing with myself about whether I should just march into the guest bedroom and beg Mika to fuck my brains out.

And honestly? I’m afraid I might actually beg.

The man’s restraint is maddening. Mika’s been holding back, keeping our sexual encounters limited to slow, careful hand jobs, saying he doesn’t want me to feel rushed. It’s sweet, considerate, kind—all those good things I should be grateful for.

But it’s also not enough .

I bite my tongue to keep from muttering as I refocus on the task at hand. Or try to, anyway.

Today, shaping up Rick’s Rockin’ Rods is proving to be impossible. For one, the name has absolutely nothing to do with hot rods, and for another, my mind keeps wandering to Mika. Our conversation about holding off on questions circles in my head.

I thought about pressing him for answers, but the look on his face when I almost did stopped me cold. There was something raw there, a pain I couldn’t stomach. My curiosity isn’t worth that—not when whatever’s drawing us together clearly needs time.

Time for Mika to trust me. To believe I won’t hurt him the way someone else obviously has before.

I glance over my shoulder at the couch, where Mika is napping. He looks peaceful for once, the tension that’s always in his shoulders finally eased.

God, it’s nice having someone here.

I didn’t realize how tired I was of being alone until now. And it doesn’t hurt that the someone happens to be sexy as hell. Just looking at him makes my cock twitch.

“Down, boy,” I mutter, shifting in my seat to relieve some of the pressure building in my jeans. Now’s not the time to play. After I finish this website, though…

Sighing, I try to steer my thoughts back to Rick’s ridiculous site. My erection is relentless, pressing against the seam of my jeans like it’s determined to break free.

A soft chuckle from behind me breaks my focus.

Mika’s awake.

He leans over my shoulder, peering at the screen, and his proximity sets my skin on fire. I swear I can feel the heat of his body without him even touching me.

Of course, he notices my problem.

His low laugh brushes against my ear, and I feel the blush creeping up my neck and spreading across my face. Damn it.

Mika straightens, crossing his arms over his chest as he smirks at me, that wicked twinkle in his eyes making my blood simmer.

“I’m thinking,” he drawls, “you’d look really good riding Rick’s Rabid Rammin’ Rocket .”

My head whips around to the screen, where he’s pointing. And there it is—an obscenely huge dildo on the site, bold as day.

Oh, hell no.

My face burns hotter, but this time, it’s not just from embarrassment. It’s a mix of mortification and sheer terror too. That thing’s got to be twelve inches long, at least. I clench my ass cheeks so tight I’m surprised I don’t pull something.

“No way in hell , buddy!” I bite out, my voice a mix of indignation and horror.

Mika’s grin widens, and damn it, it’s infectious. I let go of the outrage and glance back at the monstrous dildo on the screen. Okay, it is kind of funny.

I grin up at him. “You come at me with that thing, and there’s gonna be a fight. Loser takes all—literally.”

Mika bursts out laughing, the sound rich and genuine. It’s a sight I’ll never get tired of—his head tipped back, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his whole body shaking with mirth.

For a moment, the tension I’ve been carrying disappears.

Yeah, I could get used to this.

What the hell—Rick’s websit e can wait.

I reach out, grabbing Mika by the waist, and press my face against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. The fabric is worn and familiar, but what’s underneath it? That’s a whole different story. Hard, defined muscle meets my cheek, the contrast sending a shiver through me.

Everything about Mika fills my senses. The warmth of his skin radiates through the thin shirt, the steady rise and fall of his chest grounding me. I close my eyes, letting the textures and heat soak into my memory.

Then I feel it—the sudden pressure of his cock pressing against my neck through his sweats.

I pull back slightly, my breath catching as I glance down. The bulge is unmistakable, and I can see the damp spot spreading where the tip is leaking into the fabric. My mouth waters at the sight, the scent of his arousal filling the air, and I reach for him without thinking.

My hand slides from his hip, gliding over the thick, heated length straining against the cotton. I stroke him slowly, my palm dragging across the rigid shaft, wishing I could feel his bare skin instead of this damn barrier between us.

I want to taste him, to draw those drops of pre-cum onto my tongue and savor them.

But Mika has other plans.

He pulls me up from my chair, steering me toward the couch. His hands are quick, unbuttoning and shoving my jeans down my legs so fast I barely have time to kick off my shoes and socks. I step out of the rest of my clothes, watching as he strips in front of me.

Holy shit.

Mika naked is a goddamn work of art. Every muscle on his tall, lean frame seems carved from stone, his dark skin glistening slightly as if lit from within. My throat dries up, then floods with saliva, and I have to swallow hard before I embarrass myself by drooling.

Bef ore I can process how devastatingly gorgeous he is, Mika’s hands are on me again. I’m a willing participant, eager to surrender myself to him. His body covers mine completely, from head to toe, and I can’t help but feel consumed by him—his heat, his scent, his very presence. His weight presses me into the cushions, and I relish the sensation of being pinned beneath him. He grabs my hands, lacing our fingers together with an urgency that sends a thrill through me. His grip is firm, almost to the point of pain, but it’s a good kind of pain—the kind that makes you feel alive.

“I need…” Mika’s voice is low and shaky, the rough edge making my heart race like I’ve just run a marathon. He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to—I can feel what he needs. His hips grind down onto mine, our cocks sliding together through the thin fabric of our underwear. The friction is maddening, the heat unbearable. It’s like being trapped in a fever dream, one where every sensation is amplified tenfold.

He grinds his hips down, and I can’t help but arch into him. I try to move, to help him, but Mika holds me captive with his body, holding me in place, completely in control. His hips are moving, keeping up that steady rhythm that threatens to drive me out of my mind. I can’t touch him, can’t even move my arms—all I can do is feel . It’s almost too much, this overwhelming sensation of being at someone else’s mercy. The friction is maddening, the heat unbearable.

The realization sends a jolt of excitement through me.

But there’s one thing I can do.

I lift my head and catch his lower lip between my teeth, biting gently at first before increasing the pressure when I hear his soft groan. His lip feels full and perfect against mine, like biting into a ripe plum. I let the edge of my teeth drag along it before pulling back slightly.

“I know, Mika,” I murmur, my voice trembling. “Me, too.”

Mik a’s, grinding against me with just enough force to send pleasure rippling through my body. He doesn’t falter in his thrusts, but his breath hitches at my words. My balls burn with each thrust, already straining to spill.

“Oh shit, Mika, I can’t… I don’t want to yet.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to keep control, but it’s useless. The image of him above me—his sweat-slicked chest heaving, dark hair falling into his face, lips parted as little grunts escape him—is burned into my mind.

He lowers his head, his warm breath brushing against my ear, and pants, “I need you, Gabe.” Those three words are like a match striking against the kindling of my desire. They shatter me, sending a surge of heat straight to my balls, and I’m coming undone, crying out his name. Mika bites down on my neck, his teeth catching my carotid as he sucks hard. The sensation is exquisite. I feel like I’m on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure and I lose it completely.

“Mika!” I shout, my body locking up as I come harder than I ever have before, streams of hot seed spilling from me in pulsing waves. The release crashes through me, leaving me gasping and trembling.

Mika’s fingers grip mine, almost to the point of pain, his hips jerk spasmodically as he follows me over the edge. I feel the hot wetness of his release spill between us as he shudders, whispering my name like a prayer.

When he finally stills, his body heavy against mine, I press my forehead to his and close my eyes.

This is everything. I feel it in every breath, every touch. And damn it, I don’t want it to stop.

We’re a mess—sweat-slicked, cum-covered, gasping for breath—but fuck if it isn’t the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. We stay l ike that for a moment, our breaths syncing up, our hearts beating in time.

“Holy fuck, Mika.” My voice comes out shaky, barely above a whisper. “This is more than sex,” I say quietly. “Isn’t it?”

Mika opens his eyes, looking down at me with an intensity that makes my heart stutter. “It’s everything it’s meant to be, Gabe. Everything we’re meant to be.”

I tug at my hands, struggling to free them from his grip. Mika lets go willingly, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches me wrap my arms around him and pull him close. There’s no part of me that isn’t affected by this—by him. My body feels like it’s been through the wringer, but in the best possible way. “You know,” I say, tracing circles on Mika’s back with my fingertips, “we haven’t even had real sex yet.”

Mika chuckles softly, his breath warm against my neck. “What do you consider ‘real’ sex, Gabe?”

I shrug, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. “You know…penetration. Cock in ass kinda stuff.”

Mika lifts his head to look at me, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something else—something deeper. He growls, “Is that what you want, Gabe? To feel my cock stretching your tight little hole? To have me fucking you so hard you can’t walk straight for a week?”

I swallow convulsively, feeling my cock twitch at his words. Fuck, when he talks like that… “Yes,” I sigh out. A slow, predatory grin takes over Mika’s face.

I should probably be scared of how overwhelming this is, but I can’t bring myself to be. Nothing has ever felt this right before, and it’s not just the physical part.

I let myself enjoy the moment—Mika’s head resting beside mine, his penetrating look caressing my face, the comforting weight of his body o n top of me, and yeah, even the sticky mess of spunk between us.

The sudden shrill of the phone makes both of us jump, but when Mika starts to move, I clutch him like I’d fall apart without him.

“They can wait, whoever it is,” I say quickly, not ready to let this end. “Just, let’s rest for a—”

The answering machine clicks on, cutting me off.

“Hey, Gabe, this is Adam. Got a rescue for you here, need you to come get him ASAP. Todd told me about the wolf escaping. I’m assuming he’s still gone? Come by as soon as you can, ‘kay?”

My eyes snap open as Adam’s message ends, a groan escaping me.

“Shit! I forgot to call Adam about the wo—” I stop myself mid-word, realizing how stupid it would sound. “About you, uh, escaping.”

Reluctantly, I let my arms fall away and push myself up as Mika does the same.

“We need to go to the clinic—if you want to come with me,” I add, stumbling over the words. “You’ll need clothes, though. Unless you have something stashed somewhere?”

I stare at him, and my thoughts derail for a moment. The man is bigger than me, and the sweats and T-shirt he wore earlier had clung to his body like a second skin. All those taut muscles, the way his cock looked under the fabric… Damn .

I shake myself, frowning as a strange feeling wells up. Am I feeling possessive ?

Mika shakes his head, pulling me back to the present. “I left the… I didn’t take anything with me. I headed out with just the clothes on my back. I was…in a hurry.”

Tha t broken look flashes across his face again, and my chest tightens. But it’s gone almost as quickly as it appeared. That’s progress, I tell myself. It’s something.

“I’m glad you headed down this way, Mika.”

I lean in for a quick kiss, sweet and soft, but it leaves me wanting more. I back up before I get too tempted to keep him here longer.

“Where’s all your stuff?” I ask, my tone light but curious. “Clothes, ID, things like that?”

The question makes him hesitate. Mika tugs at the waistband of his sweats, keeping his gaze away from mine.

“Are you sure you want to talk about this, Gabe?” His voice is quiet, almost hesitant, but when he glances at me, there’s a flicker of something else. His eyes heat, turning sultry as they drop lower, reminding me that I’m still very much naked.

“Yeah, I do,” I say, trying to sound firm despite the flush crawling up my neck. “And you need to.”

I plop back down on the couch, only realizing too late that maybe I should’ve grabbed something to cover up first. Mika’s gaze lingers, dragging over me in a way that has me half hard again in seconds.

Grunting, I grab my shirt off the arm of the couch and toss it over my lap, shrugging when Mika’s eyebrows lift in amusement.

“Quit stalling and spit it out, babe,” I tease, trying to coax him into talking.

Mika’s smirk softens, but his shoulders tense slightly as he moves to sit beside me. I can tell he’s still weighing what to say, still deciding how much to share.

I stay quiet, letting him work through it. Whatever it is, I’ll take it, bit by bit. The man has his secrets, sure, but I’m not going anywhere. Not until he knows I’m here for all of it — him .

“I’m not…fine.” Mika’s voice is strained, and his body language tells me he’s ready to bolt.

He peeks toward the leather chair, taking a step as if to put some space between us. No way am I letting that happen. I reach out, grab his hand, and tug firmly.

“Uh-uh,” I say, pulling harder when he hesitates.

Mika gives in, sitting down on the couch beside me. He doesn’t try to free his hand, which is a good sign, but he still won’t meet my eyes.

Yeah, no. We’re not doing this distance thing.

“Who’d you kill, Mika?” I tease, grinning as I toss out the most ridiculous question I can think of.

His head snaps up, those deep, whiskey-colored eyes wide with surprise. He studies me intently for a moment, and I see the faintest twitch at the corners of his eyes—like he’s fighting not to smile.

“Very funny,” he mutters, his voice dry. “I thought for a minute you really believed—”

Whatever Mika was about to say cuts off with a sharp exhale as my elbow jabs him lightly in the ribs.

“That’s for even thinking something so stupid,” I say, shaking my head. “I was just trying to show you that whatever this is, it’s not the worst thing in the world. I know you didn’t kill anybody. So, how about you tell me what did happen? How’d you end up here with nothing?”

I take his other hand, gently pulling it away from where it’s been nervously picking at the couch cushion. His fingers feel warm but shaky in mine.

Mika exhales a trembling breath. “Really, I didn’t do anything. Being gay—that was enough for my pack to decide they didn’t want me. They kicked me out, shunned me, whatever you want to call it. I left everything there…”

His voice hitches, and before I can stop myself, I’m sliding my arms around him. I hold him firmly, resting my head on his shoulder as he pulls me closer.

“I could have taken some things,” Mika continues, his voice rough. “Personal stuff, I guess, but my home was pack property.” He shrugs, jostling my head slightly. “I should have stayed calm, thought things through before just walking away. But I couldn’t. I was angry and hurt, and so fucking shocked. How could they do that? How could my alpha let them? Christ.”

A knot forms in my chest, anger and sorrow twisting together in a way that’s hard to contain. “I’m so sorry, babe. That’s…that’s seriously fucked up.”

I’m trying to keep my voice calm, to hold back the sharp, biting anger bubbling under the surface. But it’s hard not to blurt out something like, “ How backward and inbred is your pack? ”

“How can they even do that?” I ask instead, forcing my tone to stay level. “And what about other gay shifters? There’s no way you’re the only one.”

“I can smell it, you know,” Mika murmurs, his lips brushing the top of my head. “Your anger. It has a sharp, almost smoky scent to it.”

He kisses me there, just soft enough to soothe some of my tension. “It flatters me that you’re so indignant on my behalf, Gabe. But as for how they can do what they did…well, the alpha is the pack leader. What he says goes. I’d thought Zane—my alpha—was a friend. But when members of the pack came to him and said they wanted me gone, he sided with them.”

Mika’s voice is rough, and I can feel the hurt radiating off him.

“Granted,” he continues, “the ones who spoke out were high-ranking. And there were a lot of them. But all Zane would have had to do was say, ‘Tough shit,’ and it would’ve ended there. He didn ’t, though.”

Mika’s holds me close, and his head tilts slightly as if he’s working through the memory again.

“And I’ve never heard of any other gay shifters in Zane’s pack,” he says, his voice quieter now. “If there had been, they probably left before anyone could find out.”

I squeeze him, not sure what to say. I want to tell him that his pack doesn’t deserve him, that he’s better off without people like that in his life. But I know those words won’t erase the pain of being rejected by the people who were supposed to be his family.

For now, I just hold him, letting the quiet settle around us. Whatever he’s lost, I can’t fix it—but I can be here for him now. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone else hurt him like that again.

I lean back, still holding Mika in my arms, but needing a little distance to look him in the eye. His warmth against me is comforting, grounding, but I can’t ignore the need to say this out loud.

“Okay, first off,” I begin, making sure my voice is firm but light, “your alpha sounds like a pussy who caved to pressure.”

Mika’s mouth opens, probably ready to fire back, but I raise a hand, cutting him off.

“Ah-ah, let me finish.”

He snaps his mouth shut, his expression and one of curiosity.

“Second,” I continue, softening my tone, “is there anyone above him you can go to? Someone who could reverse this if you wanted to be reinstated in the pack?”

The words feel heavy as they leave my mouth. I don’t want Mika to go back to New Mexico—not if it means losing him. But if that’s what it takes to make him happy, I’ll deal. I’d just have to go with him, that’s all.

Mika shrugs, his body stiffening slightly in my embrace. “I guess I could appeal to the Civitas alpha—the one in charge of all the packs in New Mexico. He’s first in the chain of command over Zane. But honestly? I don’t know if it’s worth the effort.”

The casual way he says it takes me by surprise. I’d expected more hesitation, more longing, but he seems almost…resigned.

“We have a hierarchy,” Mika adds, smiling faintly when he catches the look on my face. Yeah, I’m not exactly hiding my surprise. A hierarchy? This is news to me.

“There’s the pack alphas,” he explains, his tone patient. “Then Civitas. Above that is the Dux Ducis, and so on up the chain until you reach the Alpha Anax. He’s the big bad alpha at the top of the whole system.”

I blink, processing the information. A whole hierarchy of alphas? For some reason, I’d always assumed there were just a few scattered packs, operating independently.

“I just don’t see the point,” Mika says, breaking through my thoughts. “They’ve already done what they’ve done. Even if I could force Zane to take me back, I’d never go. That’s not my home anymore.”

Before I can respond, Mika leans down and kisses me. The sweetness of it catches me off guard, and I have to blink a few times as emotion grabs me. His lips linger, soft but sure, as if he’s trying to pour every unsaid word into the kiss.

When he pulls back, his voice is low, steady. “I don’t want to go back, Gabe. I want this. With you.”

The words settle deep in my chest, heavy and warm. I hold on to them, letting them wrap around me.

Still, my mind lingers on what he said about the hierarchy. It’s fascinating, but something about it feels…off. I study Mika, taking in the tension coiling through his body. He’s holding back, I realize. There’ s more to his story, more to the way he left his pack, but he’s not ready to share it yet.

And that’s okay.

I won’t push him. Whatever happened back there hurt him deeply—so deeply that trust doesn’t come easily anymore. I can wait. In the meantime, maybe I can offer him something of my own. Something that might help him feel less alone.

I take a breath, letting my hands slide up to cup his face. His golden-brown eyes meet mine, filled with a mix of sympathy and hope that hits me right in the gut.

“I understand how much that hurt, Mika,” I say softly. “When I told my parents I was gay, they didn’t just disown me. They told me I was an abomination, a mistake, going to hell—you name it. At the time, I thought I’d never get past it.”

Mika’s gaze sharpens, his fingers tightening slightly on my waist as he listens.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “If it hadn’t been for my grandparents, I don’t know where I’d be. They took me in, loved me, made sure I knew I wasn’t broken. But it still took me a long time to stop feeling like there was something wrong with me, you know?”

Mika doesn’t say anything, but the way he’s looking at me—like I’m the only thing that matters—makes my throat start to close.

I’ve never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. It’s terrifying and freeing all at once.

“Mika,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know where this is going, but I need you to know…you’re not alone anymore. Whatever you went through, whatever you’re still dealing with, I’m here. Okay?”

His eyes glisten as he nods, and I know—I just know—this is the start of something neither of us could have imagined.

“ Anyhow. Then I came here, to my grandparents. They loved me unconditionally, and that healed a lot of the damage my parents did. I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone to turn to when your pack kicked you out.” My voice softens, and I feel the raw edges of my own pain resurfacing as Mika’s dark, intent eyes meet mine. I give his shoulders a light squeeze, hoping to ground him—and maybe myself, too. “But you do now.”

Mika’s gaze holds mine, his expression shifting into something softer, steadier. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. For what your parents did. But I’m glad you had your grandparents…and grateful you found me. That we have each other.”

His voice doesn’t have the wounded tone from earlier, and that reassures me. He’s getting there, piece by piece.

“Yes, we do.” I give him a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “And we both smell like a teenage boy’s sheets—sweaty and cum-covered.”

Mika’s laugh is low and rumbling as I stand and gesture for him to follow.

“So your clothes, your ID, pretty much everything—it’s still on pack property?” I ask. “Will they toss it out, or can we go get it?”

“I don’t think they’ll throw it out.” Mika shrugs, his body still relaxed, though there’s a shadow of tension in his shoulders. “I left in a hurry, sure, but they’ll probably pack it up and ship it if I ask. They wouldn’t want me to have a reason to come back. I’ve got some money tucked away in a couple of accounts. I just need to access it.”

He nods toward the computer, giving me a questioning look. “If it’s okay, I’d like to use your computer for that. Then I’ll get cleaned up real quick.”

“Of course,” I say, but my mind latches onto his words.

They don’t want him to come back.

The thought churns in my gut, sharp and ugly. I don’t like it. It’s bad enough they cast him out in the first place, but not even letting him return to collect his things? That level of rejection feels petty and cruel, and the fact that it happened to Mika—my Mika—pisses me off more than I care to admit.

He doesn’t seem fazed, though, moving toward the computer with a quiet focus. I’ll let it slide for now. But the more I think about it, the angrier I get.