Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-three
CHRISTIAN
Christian emerged blinking into the early morning sunshine.
It was his favorite time of the day—everything in the world new, with no one else around to spoil it.
No one human around to spoil it, he amended when he was greeted by a low, demanding whicker as Diablo spotted him.
He went to the horse and obediently scratched the crest of his neck and stroked his cheek before pressing a kiss against his nose and heading to the hillside where he knew he’d find Dave.
It was where Dave went every morning, but this morning he’d found it necessary to leave Christian a note telling him.
Although Christian didn’t understand why Dave had done that, he was kind of glad.
It felt like an invitation. He usually tried not to intrude when Dave was doing his meditation stuff, but now it felt as if he was allowed to.
Just like everything this morning felt new and clean, and as if anything could happen.
He’d faced his worst fear and found it wasn’t what he’d thought.
It didn’t have any power over him, not anymore.
It was a fresh start or something, and damn, those pain pills were sending him loopy.
He decided to ignore the fact he hadn’t had one for ten hours and continued in search of Dave.
He found him sitting, looking out over the land below, contentment and peace in every line of his body. It wasn’t like that wasn’t obvious, because Dave wasn’t wearing any clothes.
After a few minutes, he turned to look at Christian, a smile on his face. Christian straightened up from the tree he’d been leaning against and went to him. “Hell, if I’d known you were doing naked meditation, I’d have gotten here sooner.”
Dave’s smile grew. “It just felt right today,” he said. “Like a rebirth.”
O-kay. Christian might have been guilty of saying sappy shit recently, but that didn’t mean he was getting into one of those conversations.
He settled down on the short-cropped grass and looked at how Dave was sitting cross-legged beside him. “How’s the ankle? And aren’t you worried about ant bites on your balls?”
Dave snorted and thumped Christian’s arm.
“Hey,” he said indignantly, rubbing at his bicep. “I thought you were all about peace and love and harmony.”
“I was,” Dave said. “In fact, I was doing really, really well, right until the moment you showed up.”
As Christian processed that and wondered for a sickening minute if it was true, if he was intruding, Dave tackled him down to the ground. “It was boring as hell,” he said.
Christian adjusted how he was lying so that he cradled Dave against his hips. He rolled them slightly, pushing up against Dave. “And now?”
“Things are looking up,” Dave said, leaning down and kissing Christian, a light, fleeting kiss that had Christian chasing his mouth for more. They kissed slow and deep and sweet. There was no hurry, because they’d have the rest of their lives for this.
Though, as the kiss continued and Dave started making those happy little satisfied noises deep in his throat, things got more urgent, until Christian rolled them over and laid Dave out on the smooth grass.
He kissed his way down his body, over the tight brown nubs of his nipples, tracing along the lines of his ribs, until he knelt between his legs, which Dave very obligingly parted for him, his cock full and heavy and curving up, just ready for Christian’s mouth.
He loved how Dave tasted, the feel of his cock filling his mouth, the noises Dave made, high and broken like the birds calling overhead. “Don’t—I’m gonna—God, Christian—”
Christian pulled off, his jaw aching because Eagle had packed a hell of a punch. Instead, he wrapped his hand around the rigid length of Dave’s cock and worked him gently. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I want you inside me when I come,” Dave said, his voice uneven as he thrust up into Christian’s hand.
Christian hadn’t wanted to stop his slow, lazy explorations, because he wanted to see Dave come apart under his hands, but that rough-voiced demand hit him deep in the gut.
He could jerk Dave off later, could watch as he gasped before he relaxed completely, eyes soft and content on Christian.
But now, he wanted to push deep inside him, to fill him and fuck him until neither of them knew anything else.
Christian was tearing his T-shirt off and shucking his jeans, uncaring about the way his bruises pulled, and he only just caught Dave’s next words.
“Want to be as close to you as I can get.”
The words and the way Dave had said them made something in his chest ache, in a good way. Perhaps he should have said something sappy back, but instead he stared at Dave in horror as the reality of their situation dawned on him. “Fuck,” he said. “Lube.”
Dave’s expression went from open and soft and wondering to his eyes crinkling and his face screwing up with helpless laughter. “God, I love you,” he got out eventually, through breath that was still coming in gasps.
“Yeah, but lube.” He was missing the point here.
“Front pocket of my jeans,” Dave said. “There’s a packet.”
“So this was all part of your evil mastermind plan, like your naked meditating.” Christian rooted around until he found the packet in question.
“Damn straight,” Dave said.
Christian slicked his fingers and eased one inside Dave, watching his flushed cheeks and dark, blown pupils, as he gasped and pushed down for more. By the time Christian slicked himself, Dave was reaching for him.
Christian pressed forward, slow and steady, until he was buried deep, braced above Dave so he could watch every flicker of pleasure cross his face.
“Now,” Dave whispered. “For God’s sake, move.”
Christian did. Long, deep glides that left them both shaking, then faster, harder, until Dave was clutching at him and crying out with each thrust, before he shattered between them with a broken sob.
The sight, the feel of Dave clenching around him, undid Christian completely. He came hard, deep inside him.
They lay tangled together in the grass. Christian held Dave close, watching the way the sun turned the tips of his eyelashes to gold, and whispered that he loved him.
DAVE
Pack breakfast was in full swing when they returned to the house.
The air was filled with the scent of coffee and bacon, Karl had come in from his overnight patrol, and Tristan had temporarily abandoned the plate in front of him in favor of a convoluted story involving chickens and the second law of thermodynamics.
“Breakfast?” Jason asked, nudging Dave’s arm as he moved over to the kettle to start on his tea.
“That’d be good, thanks.” Dave was perfectly capable of making his own breakfast, but the offer felt warm and nurturing, something he didn’t think Barton’s pack was capable of. He hoped, suddenly and fiercely, that Justin got away from there and made it out to Portland.
Christian blew on his coffee, clearly waiting for it to cool—and just as clearly waiting for Tristan to stop talking. Because the second his story ended, he spoke.
“Diablo looks good. Appreciate it.”
And then he took a swig of his coffee, which looked like it scalded his mouth, as Tristan’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected thanks.
Dave couldn’t blame him. Usually, Christian dressed up his gratitude as something like, ‘You can look after him again.’ Maybe Christian was trying to be different with everyone, not just Dave. Or maybe… maybe he was able to be different now.
Certainly, Karl was studying him closely, and Dave didn’t think it was just the bruising and remnants of swelling on his face he was seeing.
Dave studied Karl in turn, because the normally indefatigable wolf had dark shadows under his eyes and new tension around his jaw.
He wondered what the hell had been going on while they’d been away.
“I’m guessing no one told the two of you we have security cameras in place now,” Karl said, spearing his last piece of bacon. “I wiped the footage, but I don’t want to have to do that every day. Maybe find somewhere else for your ‘meditating’ in future?”
Ah. Dave didn’t blush—exactly—but Christian’s snort didn’t help.
Tristan looked horrified. “Wait—you mean, you saw—”
“Yes,” Karl said, pushing to his feet. “Now imagine how I feel.”
The laughter spread fast, just as Matt and Jesse walked in. Matt clocked Christian’s face instantly and stopped mid-step. “Fucking hell.”
“It looks worse than it is,” Christian said, unfazed, raising his coffee cup in salute.
“Well, good. Cause right now, you look three days dead,” Jesse said.
Matt shook his head, and headed for the coffee machine. “You’re back. That’s the most important thing. We’ll get the whole story later. Right now, I need caffeine and something with protein in it before I fall over.”
They looked like they’d come straight from the airport—creased clothes, and the bleary air of people who’d had just enough sleep to feel worse than if they’d had none.
Matt eased into his seat with a sigh that was practically a full-body exhale, mug of coffee clasped like it was more precious than gold. Jesse hung over Jason’s frying pan, snagging a piece of bacon he immediately tossed from hand to hand, swearing at the temperature.
“Where’s Bryce?” Tristan asked. “He said he and Tom were coming back with you.”
“Probably outside, still kissing,” Jesse said. “Either that, or stuffin’ their faces with the cinnamon rolls we picked up.”
“Should we be concerned about why you’re trying to bribe us?” Karl asked. Because cinnamon rolls were like catnip to the pack. If the pack had been cats, that was.
The roughness in Karl’s voice had Dave studying him again. He sounded like he needed sleep, but he didn’t usually sound like that after a night on patrol. He was leaning one hip against the counter, arms crossed loosely, his eyes somehow distant.
Christian also tracked him for a second, then flicked a glance at Dave. Yeah, they were thinking the same thing—they’d check in with him later, when no one else was around.
“We come bearing gifts,” Bryce announced, barging in from the hallway, and did a double take when he saw Christian’s face. “Fucking hell,” he breathed, in unconscious imitation of Matt. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Fuck that. Where’re the cinnamon rolls?” Christian demanded.
Jesse didn’t even bother asking, simply held out a hand like Bryce was his savior. Bryce deposited a white paper bag into it with exaggerated reverence, then put the others in the middle of the table.
As the scramble to snag the rolls subsided, Dave looked up at the other newcomer. Tom. Tall, dark-haired and easy in his body, like he’d read the room and was comfortable with it.
Tom nodded to them all, receiving a wide grin from Tristan and a friendly smile from Colby. Catching Dave’s gaze, he extended a hand. “You must be Dave. Thanks for the loan of Bill while you were away. He must be the sweetest-natured horse I’ve ever ridden.”
Dave smiled. “Yeah, he’s a good one. At least as good as the real Bill the Pony.”
“From Fellowship?” Tom’s eyes lit with recognition.
Dave nodded. “Bill’s not his official name, though. My naming rights got revoked after I christened Asfaloth.”
“Can you actually blame us for that? The name’s longer than the horse,” Bryce said.
Christian, meanwhile, was giving Tom a slow once-over—not hostile, but watchful.
Like a wolf circling a new scent. Tom either didn’t notice or was polite enough to ignore it, helping Bryce set out a fresh round of coffee and catching up with Karl in a low-voiced exchange.
Interesting how easy he already was with the pack, and they with him.
Christian was still watching Tom when Jason set a plate of eggs in front of him. Colby passed him a fork.
Christian accepted the fork, not looking away from Tom. “Beats egg-flavored rubber,” he said. “Thanks.”
Colby blinked, but gave a small, genuine smile before digging back into his breakfast.
The kitchen was full now—silverware scraping on plates, laughter rising and falling, new rhythms sliding in among old ones. Dave caught Christian’s gaze across the table, and the look they shared held a quiet understanding.
They were home.