Chapter 3 Warren #5
“Way too rough, buddy.” Warren twisted his neck and looked up at Max’s suddenly concerned expression. “I don’t know who told you that my throat was made of rubber, but they were lying.”
Max’s cocky grin slid off his face.
“You didn’t enjoy it?” he asked, looking so devastated that Warren actually felt bad.
“No, I enjoyed it,” he assured him, telling the truth. “I think I transcended to another plane of existence for a second there. Just… ask, next time.”
“I will,” Max promised, putting his broad hand on Warren’s stomach and rubbing it. He scrunched up his brow, a guilty look crossing his features. “Or maybe we should just make sure that Harland is there to supervise. I don’t have the best impulse control.”
Warren let out a weak chuckle. That tracked.
“We should clean up,” Warren said, hoping that there wouldn’t be a disgruntled employee waiting for them on the other side of the curtain. The changing room stall felt like its own little world, but Warren was well aware what an illusion that was.
Everything about his current situation felt surreal. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised to wake up suddenly and find himself in bed. That would be more believable than a werewolf being so into him that he lost control and started throat-fucking him in the changing room stall of a Goodwill store.
Not that Max had throat-fucked him, exactly. He’d more or less just buried his cock to the hilt and then kept it there, letting the convulsions of Warren’s throat do the work.
“Good idea.” Max rose back to his feet, leaving Warren sitting on the floor between his oversized boots. He tucked his cock back into his pants, zipping them up with a huff. “I’m all messy.”
Warren pushed himself to his feet and took off his sweater, hanging it on the hook on the wall, and then removed his flannel shirt. He used the shirt to wipe his face and hair as clean as he could before bundling it up so that he could carry it home and clean it later. He put his sweater back on.
“Can I borrow that?” Max asked, nodding down at the shirt in Warren’s hand.
“Sure.”
Warren watched as Max used the shirt to pat down his crotch and thighs.
Peeking out behind the curtain, Warren let out a relieved breath when he saw that the interior of the store was still empty. He left the stall, rushing over to the spot where he’d left his backpack and the coat he intended to purchase, bringing them up to the register.
Max joined him a second later, looking at ease and casual as he zipped up his bomber jacket. He had the leather jacket he’d found folded over his arm, and when he joined Warren at the register, he laid it down next to Warren’s parka.
“Hello?” Warren called, his voice coming out hoarse.
The woman who had popped her head out when they entered walked out of the back room. She gave them a cold look.
“Are you done defiling my changing rooms?”
Warren froze, his face feeling like a balloon that was about to pop. If it was possible to die from embarrassment, he was in mortal danger.
“Just about,” Max said, not sounding even slightly sorry. “Sorry about that.”
“The police are on their way.”
“That’s nice. We’d like these two jackets.” Max pulled a wallet out of his pocket and reached into it to retrieve a credit card. He held it out, but the woman made no move to accept it.
“Maybe we should just leave,” Warren whispered, tugging on Max’s sleeve and wishing he was anywhere else.
“Are you seriously not going to sell us this stuff just because we made out in the changing room?”
“Made out?” the woman screeched, the whites of her eyes showing. “You were practically making a porno in there!”
Max frowned. “No, we weren’t.”
He didn’t say anything else, and suddenly the woman looked unsure. Then she glanced over at Warren’s face – taking in his red face and wet hair – and the doubt vanished.
Max reached down and checked the tags of the two jackets.
“All right, so this one is forty dollars, and this one is two hundred.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out three hundred-dollar bills. He put them down on the counter. “You can keep the change.”
He handed Warren the parka and turned around, steering him away from the register with a hand on his backpack.
“You can’t leave!” the woman protested, sounding furious. “I have you on CCTV!”
“Don’t worry, we won’t get in trouble,” Max said, leaning down and speaking softly into Warren’s ear. He tugged Warren’s backpack off his back. “Put on your coat.”
Warren obeyed, and as he pulled it on, he realized that if Max hadn’t been there, he would have had no way to pay for his purchase.
“Thanks,” Warren said, zipping the coat up. His voice was hoarse and his throat felt sore and used.
“No problem,” Max said, putting his hands in his pockets and looking happy.
It had stopped snowing, but the wind was still blowing hard.
It made Max’s hair whip around his face like he was standing in front of his own personal fashion-shoot fan.
“Thanks for sucking my dick and letting me blow you. What are you doing now?”
“I’m late for class,” Warren said, checking the time on his phone.
His lecture had already started, but he should still be able to catch some of it if he hurried.
He started walking, and Max fell into step next to him.
He glanced up, his neck aching at how sharply it had to bend for him to see Max’s face. “What about you?”
“I was planning on going to the gym to get in a workout, and then I was going to go see Harland.” Max put his hand around Warren’s shoulders. “But don’t worry, I’ll walk you to class, first.”