Chapter 3 Warren #3
Warren was completely unable to move. His arms were trapped against Max’s rock-hard abs, a consequence of lifting them up in protest when Max yanked him in, and his nose was squished into the fabric of the werewolf’s musky compression shirt.
Max’s body was like a furnace, and as Warren breathed in the scent of leather, wood smoke and musk, his mouth watered.
Rubbing Warren’s back, Max’s giant mitt of a hand pushed Warren into his crotch.
The sensation of Max’s bulge growing bigger against his belly made Warren’s brain go fuzzy with horny static.
“I think I’m all warmed up now,” Warren said, looking up and being unable to see anything past the cliff of Max’s pecs. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Max said. “I’ll walk with you to the store. You can borrow my jacket. Harland would kill me if I let you get sick before our date on Saturday.”
Warren didn’t even know where to begin with that. First of all, he didn’t have a date with anyone on Saturday. He had an appointment, arranged by a legit agency, for a job that he would get paid for. Secondly, there was no our. Max was not part of his arrangement with Hill.
Not that Warren was opposed to the idea of a date with Max and Hill, in theory. They were by far the hottest guys he’d ever met – with the exception of Marcus – and if they wanted to rock his world, he would seriously consider the idea.
“You mean my appointment with Mr. Hill?” Warren clarified, making Max snort.
“Mr. Hill,” he repeated, chuckling. “That’s hilarious. I’m going to tell him you called him that. And yes, that’s what I mean. He hasn’t called you yet?”
Warren shook his head.
“He’s going to call you and ask you to go on a date with us, after your appointment.”
Max unzipped his coat and shrugged it off his wide shoulders, wrapping it around Warren like a blanket. It was way too big for him, hanging down to his knees, but it was wonderfully warm and it smelled like Max.
“Now that we’ve found you, we’re not going to let you slip through our fingers,” Max said, pulling Warren under his arm and squeezing him against his side. “Harland says you’re supposed to be our omega. It’s why you smell so insanely good to us.”
Warren didn’t even know where to begin to tackle that info-dump.
“What’s an omega?” he asked.
“An omega is the fated human mate of two or more alphas,” Max said, his voice casual while he delivered the insane bombshell. “You’re our perfect match. Most modern werewolves don’t believe in that kind of thing anymore, but Harland says that that’s stupid.”
Warren looked around, wondering where the cameras were. This had to be an elaborate prank.
“You’re a modern wolf,” he pointed out, just to say something and give himself time to think.
Max nodded, conceding the point. “Yeah, but I was adopted and grew up with humans. Harland is the first werewolf I’ve ever said more than two words to, and he isn’t even a werewolf anymore.
He actually hates talking about werewolf stuff.
The only reason he told me that you were meant to be our omega was because I kept badgering him about why you smelled so good. ”
“Oh,” Warren said.
He had no idea how to react to any of the things Max was saying. He looked around, trying one more time to spot the cameras.
This had to be a prank. First Marcus at school and now Max – it was too big of a coincidence.
“Should we get going?” Max asked.
“What?” Warren glanced up, wondering what he was talking about.
“To Goodwill?” Max clarified, speaking slowly and looking at Warren like he was an idiot.
Warren had completely forgotten about his plan to get a coat. He blushed and nodded.
“Sure.”
Max might be batshit insane or part of an elaborate prank for a very well-funded TikTok account, but he seemed harmless. There was also something very endearing about his unabashed enthusiasm.
They set off down the sidewalk. Max kept his hand on Warren’s shoulder, tucking him in under his arm and holding him against his side. Glancing up, Warren admired the sight of Max’s torso in his long-sleeved compression shirt.
He turned his gaze forward before Max caught him ogling him.
Right before they reached the Goodwill store, Max sighed.
“I’m sorry for springing the omega thing on you,” he said, his expression rueful. “I know it’s a lot. I mean, it’s crazy, actually. Please don’t run for the hills.”
“I won’t,” Warren promised.
He hadn’t taken Max’s words at all seriously, but now he suddenly wondered if Max had not, in fact, been kidding.
The thought sent a jolt of panic down Warren’s spine.
Warren was not anyone’s fated mate. He was just a regular person. If Max or Harland expected him to be something special, they would be sorely disappointed.
Warren thought about the way Marcus had lifted his nose and sniffed the air before they made eye contact.
That couldn’t be…
If what Max was talking about was real – or at least real to him and other werewolves – did Marcus also think he had omega potential?
That was not good. Warren did not want to find out what a disappointed and angry werewolf looked like, and that was what he’d be left with if he went along with this nonsense.
They walked into the Goodwill store.
“So, what kind of coat are you looking for?” Max asked.
The Goodwill was huge, with racks and racks of clothes and shelves stocked to the brim with all sorts of random stuff, but eerily empty.
An employee popped her head out from the room behind the register and called out distractedly, “Let me know if you need any help!”
“Will do,” Warren called back, heading over toward the racks of outerwear. He turned to Max, taking off the leather jacket and handing it back to him. “Just a standard winter coat. Something warm and maybe waterproof.”
“Got it,” Max said, putting the coat back on and following him. They both started browsing the selection of winter jackets.
“So, what were you up to before I almost crashed into you?” Warren asked, taking a blue puffer coat off the hanger and trying it on. He zipped it up, but it was too small.
“I just got off work,” Max said, pulling a bright periwinkle blue quilted jacket off the rack and holding it up. “I was on my way home.”
“What do you do?” Warren shook his head no to the periwinkle monstrosity.
“I’m a fireman,” Max said, putting the coat back and grinning at Warren. “If you ever want to play with my hose, just say the word.”
Warren rolled his eyes, though his cock twitched at the sudden mental image of Max’s ‘hose.’ He glanced down at Max’s crotch, staring at the bulge in his tactical pants, and then quickly looked away before he could start drooling.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, pulling a thick parka coat off the rack and trying it on. It was incredibly warm, and it fit him just about perfectly. He turned to Max. “How about this one?”
“Looks good,” Max said, tilting his head and looking him up and down. “Nice color.”
Warren nodded, deciding to get it after checking the tag and seeing that it was only forty dollars.
“Look at this,” Max said, pulling a vintage leather biker jacket off the rack. “This is my size. I’ve always wanted one of these!”
Warren watched as Max shrugged off his bomber jacket, draping it over the rack, and tried on his find.
“What do you think?” he asked, twisting his torso and testing the fit after zipping it up.
Warren swallowed. The jacket clung to Max’s wide shoulders and muscular biceps, the shiny leather bulging every time he moved his arms, while the wide lapels perfectly framed his slab-like pecs.
“It looks good,” Warren croaked, feeling like he should look away. He grabbed the tag of his own jacket and inspected it, glancing up at Max through his eyelashes.
“Not too small?” Max asked, pushing his arms forward and flexing them.
Warren bit back a whimper.
“Maybe a little,” he conceded. “The arms and shoulders look a little tight.”
“You’re probably right,” Max said, taking the jacket off and putting it back on the hanger.
“But it looks really good,” Warren added, unable to help himself.
Max stopped putting the jacket back on the rack, draping it over his arm instead, and his lip curved up in a cocky little smirk. “Really good, huh? So, I guess I should buy it?”
“I mean, if you want,” Warren said, blushing. He turned his gaze to the rack of coats and pretended to browse.
“Will you stick around for a date with me and Harland on Saturday after your appointment if I promise to wear it?” Max walked next to him and put his huge hand on Warren’s back.
He stroked it up and down, making goosebumps rise in its wake.
“You’re right that it’s a little tight, so I’d probably go shirtless underneath. ”
“I mean, if you want,” Warren stammered, feeling incredibly flustered by how close Max was standing.
Warren couldn’t get over how blisteringly hot he was. He loomed like a giant, his tight black pants and long-sleeved compression shirt fitting him like a glove.
Staring at the outline of Max’s abs through his compression shirt, Warren remembered what it had felt like to be trapped inside Max’s coat with his face pressed up against those abs.
He wondered if Max would be willing to do something like that again.
Getting hard, his gut clenching with hot arousal, Warren moved the parka coat in front of his crotch to hide his growing bulge.
Max watched him, his brow lifting and his expression telling Warren that he knew exactly what he was hiding.
He then glanced down at his own crotch, as if to say that there was no reason to hide.
Warren looked down, his breath catching at the sight of Max’s very obvious erection snaking its way down his muscular thigh.
“Or we could have some fun now,” Max suggested, his hand moving up and squeezing the back of Warren’s neck. He reached down and grabbed the parka out of Warren’s hands, draping it and the biker jacket over the rack. “The changing rooms back there look pretty empty.”
“I don’t-”
Max bent over, lowering his mouth down to Warren’s ear. “I really want to blow you.”