Noooo. Thank You…
It takes Rowan twenty minutes to shower and choose the easy-access pants he hopes will finally break Luca’s resolve.
He’s put on his baggy, ripped jeans with a gaping hole high on the upper thigh that will sometimes give onlookers a sneak peek of his dick if he isn’t wearing boxers, which he most assuredly is not.
He’s added a tight white undershirt from Finn’s laundry pile and the black leather jacket Grayson had given him for no particular reason last week.
Add to it his own Docs, and he is gratified to hear Luca moan and see his knees buckle a little.
“Sure you want to go to the craft store?” Rowan winks and bites his tongue.
Luca hesitates and squeezes the head of his dick through the front of his skirt, where there is a tiny, dark, wet spot. “You’re mean, Ro,” he groans before flouncing out the front door. And yup, he is still without pants under his skirt. “I have plans.”
“Plans? Well, why didn’t you say so? Let’s get to these plans!” Finally seizing the opportunity to use his hands—instead of paws—he rubs them together as he joins Luca on the front porch.
Jay and Leo had departed in Leo’s new Lexus at the ass-crack of dawn for a little date of their own at an undisclosed location.
No doubt working out and drinking chicken protein shakes for fun.
That meant the Genesis and Ducati sit gleaming in the low light of the open garage.
Gideon has his car out scouting locations for his newest venture–a family-friendly restaurant called Ruckus—and Finn has the new kid-friendly Kodiaq Jay had ordered to see if that’s what he wants, too, although he is leaning toward a Land Rover instead.
“Should we take the Ducati?” Rowan asks, knowing full well the answer, because in truth, even Rowan’s not that crazy.
“No way. Gideon would kill us both. Besides, my stuff weighs a ton, and we’ll need all the trunk space. Let’s go with the Genesis.”
“Yeah, okay. That way you can tell me about your plans,” Rowan growls, and gets the door for his date just like his mama taught him.
They take less than ten minutes to hit the streets of Nashville, with Rowan taking a laissez-faire attitude with Jay’s transmission as he steers into every minor bump and hole in the road (pun!).
It’s just to watch Luca clench his bare golden thighs together and pant in the passenger seat beside him.
That Jay-sized plug must be hitting his prostate in the best way.
“Ro,” Luca moans. He’s pressing the heel of his hand on top of his dick.
“What? You okay, cutie? Maybe you should show me your hard little dick.”
“No. I shouldn’t. I’m a good girl.”
Ohhhh.
Luca wants to play. A bolt of heat shoots straight from Rowan’s brain to his dick, making him harder than he’d been all day.
It’s not just the tease and the lure of roleplay; it’s that Luca is trusting Rowan to lead this on his own, without Gideon’s direct supervision.
He’s simultaneously proud (scared) and horny as fuck.
They had talked about it being a possibility with Gideon just yesterday, and Gideon had threatened dire consequences if Rowan fucked this—whatever this is—up.
It had been heavily implied that his concern was for both of them, not just Luca.
Because, since Nix has completed them, Luca has settled even more into his comfort zone, embracing all the parts of himself. Like this persona, where he gets off on being their good girl. And for a group of unholy Gay-Ls (grails…get it?) uninterested in women sexually, the pack sure does like it.
It calls for a different tack, and Rowan is up—so very up–for it. He can do this.
“I like your pretty hair clips, Luc.” They’re tiny amethyst hearts. They glimmer and glint in Luca’s dark brown waves. “They really are lovely, just like their owner.”
“You like them? Nixie bought them for me with his first paycheck from Sentinel.”
Rowan’s foot slips off the gas, and the Genesis slows abruptly before he can get himself back on track.
“What first paycheck? What’s he doing that they’re paying him for?
” Rowan demands. Heat of a different kind raises the hair on the back of his neck, and he hears the leather on the steering wheel creak.
It’s not that he doesn’t think Nix deserves to be paid for doing something he loves, despite the Wolf’s opinions to the contrary.
It’s just that Rowan wishes it wasn’t somewhere Rowan couldn’t follow, didn’t understand, or that required him to occasionally get bruises he didn’t explain.
It brought back all the fear from…before.
Luca’s eyes pop wide open, and his mocha scent goes burnt around the edges.
Rowan could smack himself on the forehead for pulling Luca out of what had no doubt already started to be a good scene.
Shit. Okay. This is what Gideon had been worried about.
He will not fuck this up. He will not hurt his mate.
“You know what, cutie? Let’s buy some pretty things at the craft store. Would you like that?” Rowan is relieved when he sees Luca accept his change of mood immediately.
“Yeah? They have stuff to make hair clips, and there’s a Bedazzler I like…Gideon says I can have it next time if I’m a good girl. Am I a good girl?”
Rowan clears his throat, drops it down a bit, and says, “Well, today you’re my good girl.”
Luca whines and wiggles in his seat, content for the minute with Rowan turning it around.
With a sigh of relief and plans to ask Nix the hard questions—dammit, he hates those—Rowan promises to focus on the mate he is with right now, and he’s not surprised to find it’s easy.
He desires Luca Wilde, admires him, and learns from him.
Loves him. It’s easy to shift all of his attention to the here and now.
So, he reaches across the console to place his hand palm-side up on the top of Luca’s smooth thigh, inching that skirt up the tiniest amount, and even the Wolf shivers when Luca places his smaller hand in his for the rest of the ride.
Crafternoon Delight occupies a quiet corner of a small mall, about twenty minutes from home.
The mall isn’t much—just the craft store, a pizza joint, and a convenience store.
The bell above the door is old-fashioned, giving a soft jingle as a rush of warm, scented air brushes their cheeks.
The place smells like paint, paper, glue, and… Luca’s aroused embarrassment.
They’re greeted by a sweet-looking human girl about Rowan’s age, who’s checking a stack of small plastic envelopes against an invoice on the tall check-out bench. “Welcome to Crafternoon Delight, how can I—oh. Uh, Hi, Luca.”
“Hi, Lily! How was your New Year?” Luca asks.
And while Rowan may be a fool, he is not easily fooled.
Luca, with his round cheeks flushed pink?
Check. Twitchy fingers and a sweaty palm in Rowan’s?
Check. That aroused, embarrassed, and sneaky mocha scent turned chocolatey?
Check. If he didn’t know Luca was loyal, in love, and fucking soul-mated up the wazoo, he’d think his beta was cheating. With this girl.
But since Luca owns a t-shirt that says No Taco Tuesday–Only Man-Meat Monday on the front and he made it himself on that Cricut thing he bought here last Christma–oh.
It’s with shocked embarrassment that Rowan and Lily stare each other down. She is the clerk who helped Luca make the jar’o’dicks, and helped him choose paint in every shade of rose, lavender, peach, and tan. Because she has seen pictures of Rowan’s dick.
It only takes a second of searingly significant eye contact for Rowan to know that he and Lily have come to an understanding: what happened at the craft store last Christmas will stay at the craft store.
It’s a rule. Everyone knows that.
So he nods, dragging Luca toward the back of the store, where he can see the brightly colored skeins of yarn.
Gritting his teeth so he doesn’t force his mate “up” out of his subspace for the second time, he starts pulling pink rolls of yarn off the pegs and trying to imagine which one would exactly match Grayson’s perfectly pink penis.
“Ro—” Luca sounds uncertain. Probably because of the hot spiced rum aura he’s sending out in waves.
Fuck. He’s ruining this special day that Luca had planned again, and for what?
Because someone had seen his dick without him knowing?
That’s stupid. Rowan would show anyone who wanted it a glimpse.
He has done it. He’d put these freaking jeans on for just that purpose.
It’s the ridiculous Wolf being all controlling and stupid, and Rowan is done. Again.
With a subsonic growl, Rowan wraps his hand around the back of Luca’s neck and hauls him up on the tiptoes of his sexy-ass boots.
Touching his nose to Luca’s, he licks a hot, wet stripe across his lips and leans in to suck on his earlobe.
“Luc. Go find what you’re looking for. Call when you need help, yeah? ”
He’s rewarded with a whine and a tiny nod before he heads off to the end of the aisle, a hot-as-fuck wiggle on those silky-smooth legs. Rowan cannot be blamed for adjusting his hard cock in those loose jeans for the umpteenth time since he’d put them on.
“Uh, excuse me.” Lily is holding one of those store baskets out, trying to look professional while maintaining eye contact and blatantly avoiding looking down or past him to Luca’s skirt swishing around the corner. Rowan can respect that.
“Oh yeah, hey, thanks for this.”
“That’s the job.” She shrugs and straightens a few balls of yarn someone had put back into the wrong section before continuing. “Can I help?”
He looks at the two pink yarns he’s holding in his hand, and he can’t quite choose. Neither is perfect, and Grayson is—well, like he’s said before—he’s perfect. “Yeah. I need pink mohair for a project I’m knitting. Neither of these is right.”
“You knit? So cool. Me too. What are you knitting? Does it have to be mohair? That’s itchy as fu–heck.”