Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
FRAY
Fray couldn’t begin to describe how he felt.
There weren’t words in any language to adequately explain. Fucking poets couldn’t do it justice. There were no synonyms for happy that came close. He was fortified within himself by who he now was and how loved he was—how himself he now was.
Only better.
He was the best version of himself. The man worthy of loving Tobin as he truly deserved to be loved.
He was also so utterly sexually sated, he couldn’t begin to explain that either. Although as satisfied as they both were, Fray doubted they’d have stopped anytime soon if they hadn’t been interrupted.
He wanted more. He craved it.
Needed it.
And it was with Tobin!
Fray couldn’t explain that the most. Utterly unbelievable that he should be mated with the man he’d been in love with for years. He’d pined for him, dreamt of it, imagined it, fantasized about how good it could be.
None of that came close.
This beautiful man was his.
This beautiful man who, for his whole life, had never thought himself worthy. Who had been so afraid of more rejection, he’d built walls around himself to protect all that he had left.
This man who slid his hand into Fray’s and smiled shyly as they headed from Tobin’s to the store. “Is this okay?” Tobin asked.
Fray squeezed his hand. “It’s more than okay. It’s the best thing ever.” Then he laughed. “And don’t pretend to be all coy with me now after what you’ve done to me for... well, the past three days, apparently.”
Tobin laughed, but then he pulled Fray in close and mumbled into his shoulder as they went inside, “And it still wasn’t long enough.”
“We can hear you, you know,” Hendrix cried out.
Fray laughed, not even remotely embarrassed. Hell, he was proud, if anything. “Hey, Hendrix.” He gave him a blinding grin. “Fuck off.”
Hendrix snorted out a laugh and helped Otis dish up some fish and chips. “You guys need to eat,” Otis said.
“Oh, believe me,” Tobin replied. “We ate.”
“We heard,” Hendrix said.
Otis chuckled as he handed the food over. “Happy for you, guys. Truly. About time, huh, Fray?”
“Dude’s only been waiting a decade,” Hendrix said, giving Tobin a pointed glare.
“So I heard,” Tobin said, giving Fray a sorry smile. “I have a lot of time to make up for.”
“No, you don’t,” Fray reassured him. “This is our time. I wouldn’t change a thing.
” He leaned in close, pressing himself against Tobin, and brushed his nose against his lips.
He didn’t care that Hendrix and Otis were right there.
In fact, he was happy to show off. Tobin was now his, and he belonged equally to Tobin, and he wanted the world to know. “We’ve got now until forever, baby.”
Tobin did that growly purr thing, and his filthy smile was only stifled when he bit his bottom lip. He slid his hand down Fray’s back, pulling him closer, the lunch in his hand long forgotten.
If Tobin wanted to fuck him on the floor of the store with an audience, Fray wouldn’t say no—
“No,” Hendrix barked. He was suddenly beside them.
“Nope, not happening. Christ almighty, take it down a notch. Like the scent of sex wasn’t bad enough.
” He took the fish and chips, which were now, Fray realised, hanging precariously in Tobin’s free hand, and made sure they didn’t end up on the floor.
“You guys need to eat. Actual food. And then go find Ciaran. They’re having a bit of a meeting with the Norwegians, and I’m pretty sure you were supposed to attend. ”
Oh.
Oops.
Fray laughed. “Right. Responsibilities. Got it.”
“And then after that, I’m doing tattoos,” Hendrix added. “Sawyer wants Ciaran’s ink in him, apparently. His words, not mine. Kinky fuckers.”
“Mmm,” Tobin hummed. “I’d be down for that.”
Fray’s eyes lit up, his hearts thrumming, lovely and warm. “You want my ink in you?”
Hendrix rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ.” Then he shoved them toward the café. “Go. Eat. Food. I mean the food. Eat the food.”
Fray and Tobin slid into the closest seats, their feet interlocking under the table. They did manage to eat some actual food, and they even drank some water, the hydration making Fray realise how insignificant essential things such as food and water had been the past few days.
It was probably just as well the others had intervened. Because the way Tobin opened his mouth to eat...
“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” Tobin murmured.
Not without some effort, Fray drew his gaze up to Tobin’s eyes. “Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me.”
“I do want to eat you.”
“We can hear you, you know,” Hendrix yelled from across the store.
“You’re welcome,” Fray shot back.
Tobin laughed as he chewed his food, but then he was serious. “I meant it,” he said, “about the tattoo. Your ink, in my skin. I want it. So fucking bad.”
Fray hummed because the idea sent a thrill through him. “And I want yours.”
“Your back tattoo is fucking hot, by the way,” Tobin said. “I’ve always liked it, but now...” He leaned in across the table and whispered, “When I was fucking you from behind, your tattoo—”
“That’s it,” Hendrix said. “I’m outta here.
And I thought Ciaran and Sawyer were bad.
” He walked out of the store, banging the door, and yelled at them through the glass front of the café.
“I’m telling Ciaran you’re ignoring his direct order.
And guess who’s got two middle fingers and is not doing your tattoos?
” Then he stuck both his middle fingers up. “This guy.”
And then he left.
Otis laughed from behind the counter. “You guys want anything else... any other food to eat?”
They’d almost demolished the grilled fish and chips already, a testament to how hungry they really were, but Fray had had enough. He’d make a point of ensuring they take a break between the epic bouts of sex to eat.
“I think we’re good,” Tobin replied.
Fray nodded and patted his belly. “Yeah, I’m done. For now.” He winked at Tobin. “I’ve replenished my energy reserves.”
Tobin chuckled. “Same. Good to go for another couple of days.”
“Spare a thought for us single guys,” Otis said as he headed toward the door. “Show us some mercy, please.” He laughed as he walked out. Then he, too, called to them through the glass shopfront and pointed down the street. “Police station. You’re already late.”
Fray sighed. He knew he had obligations—his cousins were here from the other side of the planet—and of course the whole imminent Lusca threat he and Tobin had not spared one single thought for in three days.
Oops.
“We should probably go,” Fray said.
Tobin’s eyes lit up, and he murmured, voice low and full of promise. “Back to my place?”
“Fuck yes.” Then Fray snorted. “Wait. No, we’re supposed to go to that meeting, or whatever it is.”
“Oh.” Tobin laughed. “I forgot already.”
Fray laughed. “Same. But we should go.” He stood up and cleared away the table, throwing the wrapping in the bin. “I can’t believe I’m being the responsible one here. And there are no other witnesses to this moment.”
Tobin laughed and took Fray’s hand. “I’m a witness. Very responsible. Very grown up and respectable. I’ll be sure to tell everyone.”
Fray pulled Tobin against him, their bodies flush. He kissed him with smiling lips, and Tobin hummed happily, licking his own lips, and the heat in his eyes caught fire. Fray could feel Tobin’s pulse kick and the look of want in his—
A knock on the storefront window startled them. Tobin pulled Fray behind him on instinct, away from the possible threat, which Fray really freaking liked. He also really freaking liked the way Tobin snarled, and it was something he wanted to revisit later.
They both turned to see who the threat was, who’d dared to interrupt them. It was Ciaran. He had both hands raised in surrender but was smiling, at least. “I know it’s distracting,” he said, loud enough to hear through the glass. “But we need you both. Twenty minutes, tops.”
Fray groaned because what he and Tobin were about to do was way more interesting than a stupid meeting, but he relented with a roll of his eyes.
“Fine.” Then he cupped Tobin’s jaw and met his gaze.
“You okay? You got protective of me just now, and just so you’re aware, we’re gonna explore that when this stupid meeting is over. ”
“I heard that,” Ciaran said.
Fray gave him a grin. “Good.” But, like a responsible grown-up consortium member, he took Tobin’s hand, and they went outside. “Happy now?” he said to Ciaran.
Ciaran just laughed, and they headed back toward the police station. “I am, yes,” he said. “I’m ridiculously happy for both of you.”
Fray lost some of his snark at that comment because this wasn’t Ciaran the consortium leader cockblocking them, this was Ciaran his best friend. “Thanks, Ciar. To be honest, I was expecting some shit-talking because fair is fair—”
“About freaking time,” Ciaran said.
“There it is,” Tobin grumbled.
“How many fucking years has it been, Fray?” Ciaran went on. He looked around Fray to give Tobin a raised eyebrow. “Do you know how many times I had to talk him off a ledge?”
“Leave him alone,” Fray said, squeezing Tobin’s hand. “Or I’ll zap your dick so hard, your jizz will fizz like sherbert.”
Ciaran threw his head back and laughed. “I’m just kidding. I love you both, and I’m so stoked for both of you, honestly.”
Tobin chuckled. “Fizz like sherbert?”
Fray shrugged, and Ciaran held the door for them. “Please don’t give Sawyer any ideas.”
“Ideas on what?” Sawyer asked. He was behind his desk, while everyone else sat in various chairs or stood leaning against the wall. Dylan, Hendrix, and Aurin sat on the jail cot, Salem perched smugly on Aurin’s lap. Fray’s three Norwegian cousins stood together by Sawyer’s desk.
“Oh, nothing,” Fray said, answering Sawyer. Then he gave his cousins a nod. “Hello, sorry to keep you waiting and for the interruption before, when you first arrived.” He winced. “And for being... preoccupied these past few days.”