Chapter 3
A SLIPPERY SLOPE
“Do you think it’s time to flip the chicken?” Hades rumbled, his voice sliding down Aaren’s spine like a lover’s caress.
“Don’t you mean, ‘Choke the chicken’?” said Aaren’s mouth.
Silence stretched between them. Hades turned a little to watch Aaren from the corner of his eye.
Then it hit Aaren, what he had just said.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, ducking his head to avoid Hades.
Which was a good move because he did, in fact, have to flip his chicken.
He hurriedly turned them onto their uncooked sides.
“There. I flipped my chicken. Oh gods, why does that sound so wrong? It sounds like I just flipped my—my cock up and down. Who the hell even says that?”
“You, apparently,” Hades said, sounding amused. He stepped away, leaving Aaren’s back cold and lonely.
It’s fine. I don’t need an emotional support chest to lean on.
“If you give me your number, I’m going to name you ESC on my phone,” Aaren said.
“Oh? Like an escape button?”
“No, it stands for Emotional Support Chest. Like an emotional support animal, but yours is a chest.”
Hades nodded solemnly. “Good to hear that all you want from me is my chest.”
“And your money.”
“And my money.”
Aaren buried his face in his hands. “I suck so much.”
“Mmm. Do you really?” Hades’ voice dipped low and seductive. It lit up all of Aaren’s nerves. Then the alpha was behind Aaren again, except this time, he pressed himself flush against Aaren’s body, his bulge nestled against the small of Aaren’s back.
Aaren had never felt this hot in his life. His breath whooshed out of his lungs; all he knew were the fingertips lightly tugging on his hips.
Just as quickly as he had appeared, Hades retreated, dropping smoothly back onto Ballus’ chair. “I’m looking forward to this meal.”
Aaren reeled with the loss. “Fuck,” he whispered.
He shouldn’t want to feel Hades’ hands all over his body, pressing firmly against his skin. Especially under his clothes and between his legs.
“Is your chicken ready?” Hades murmured.
Aaren’s blush went all the way to his ears. He looked down at the tent in his pajama pants. “M-Maybe.”
He rolled his hips against the oven handle to take the edge off his arousal, making a soft, pleasured sound in his throat.
“Aaren?”
“H-Huh?”
“Would you turn around for me? Just for a second.”
Aaren froze. “Um. Wh-Why would you want that?”
There was a brief pause. “You’re frying chicken without an apron. I wanted to see if any oil splattered on you.”
It sounded like a legitimate reason. Maybe.
If Hades didn’t sound quite so... knowing.
Aaren gulped. He wanted to adjust himself, but he also wasn’t wearing any underwear. Hopefully, he asked. “Y-You could check when the chicken’s done?”
“I’d like to see you now, if you don’t mind.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Aaren plucked at the hem of his shirt. If he held it away from himself and stretched it down, it wouldn’t cling to his bulge and betray its shape.
With that in mind, he turned, his shirt stretched taut, obscuring the guilty evidence.
Hades made a low sound, his sea-green gaze drifting from the top of Aaren’s head down to his toes. Then it wandered back up to Aaren’s hands. “Release your shirt, please.”
The command in his voice went straight to Aaren’s cock. It jerked at his voice, at his knowing.
“Um,” Aaren whispered.
Hades met his gaze. “You know you can say no, right? At any point in time. I’ll back off, no questions asked.”
Yeah, Aaren knew. He’d known ever since Hades had controlled his anger and sat down to make himself appear non-threatening. He nodded slowly, his throat dry.
“So drop your hands, sweetheart. Let me see.” Hades leaned forward, bracing his forearms against his thighs. This brought him closer to Aaren’s hips.
His face scorching, Aaren let the shirt fall freely so it draped over the curve of his belly. And the tent in his pants.
“Mmm.” Hades’ gaze intensified. He reached over, fingers pausing just before he touched the hem of Aaren’s shirt. “May I?”
“Sure,” Aaren squeaked.
Hades lifted Aaren’s shirt, exposing his belly. And his bulge. Oh gods, his erection was obvious now, his tip shoving against the front of his pants, begging to be touched. Aaren whimpered and hid his face in his hands. Just that he was growing harder under Hades’ attention.
“What a good omega,” Hades rumbled.
Aaren peeked out through a crack in his fingers. “Really?”
“Yes.” Hades was still looking at Aaren’s crotch, a pleased smile playing on his lips. Ever so slowly, he trailed his fingertip along the edge of Aaren’s waistband, lightly stroking Aaren’s skin. Tingles skittered down Aaren’s nerves.
Then Hades hooked his finger into the waistband, and Aaren grew wet.
Is he going to pull open my pants? Am I going to let him?
What would it be like, letting this alpha see his hard, bare cock?
Before Aaren could say anything, Hades glanced at the frying pan and released Aaren’s clothes. “Do you think the chicken might be done?”
Aaren whimpered, trying to contain his disappointment. “Um, l-let me check.”
He wobbled over to the kitchen drawer and fumbled for the meat thermometer, his cheeks sliding wetly together.
All Hades had done was touch his clothes. And Aaren was all but ready to sit on that alpha’s cock.
This is so wrong, he thought. But his hole was still wet and aching anyway.
He jabbed the meat thermometer into the thickest piece of chicken. “I’m stabbing my meat,” said his mouth.
Hades coughed lightly. “I’m sure your meat enjoys it.”
“Oh gods,” Aaren moaned. “I need to shut up.”
“No, don’t stop on my account.”
The chicken was done. Aaren moved the pieces onto some paper towels to soak up the excess oil, pulling out the roasted veggies from the oven. He plated the meal carefully—parmesan-crusted chicken, a generous scoop of fluffy mashed potatoes, and roasted bell peppers and tomatoes on the side.
“Here.” He set the plate in front of Hades, before grabbing a fork and knife. “Drinks? Something aside from hot chocolate?”
“Water’s fine.”
Aaren filled a water glass, fumbling when he set it down. He winced. “I’m horrible at servicing.”
“Oh?” Hades watched him for a heated moment. “You’re servicing me perfectly.”
Aaren choked. He fled to his mug of hot chocolate, sipping from it to hide his face.
Hades glanced at the stove. “There’s still some food left. Won’t you be having any?”
Aaren shook his head. “I ate at the Wine Shack. The rest of this is for you if you want seconds, or if you want to bring it home after.”
Hades hummed and popped a piece of chicken into his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed slowly, his expression melting into bliss.
Come to think of it, Aaren rarely saw people’s reactions to his food. But he was pretty sure no one reacted the way Hades was right now.
“Do you look like this when you come?” he blurted.
He regretted it immediately. Who the hell asked a near-stranger that?
But Hades only smiled, taking another bite.
“The chicken is crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside. Perfectly seasoned.” He tried some of the mashed potatoes next, and looked just as delighted.
“This hits the spot. Light and creamy, but salted enough that I want another mouthful. And the vegetables—the peppers are sweeter when roasted. The tomatoes are amazing with basil and olive oil.”
Aaren breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, so that wasn’t an orgasm face.”
Hades raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s definitely one.
But this isn’t a rut orgasm face. It’s one of those on a lazy afternoon when you’re just lying back and touching yourself with no destination in mind.
The pleasure rises and crests gently. Not earth-shattering, but it leaves you relaxed with a smile on your face. ”
Aaren gaped, his face burning hotter than before. “Y-you just gave me a mental image of you jerking off.”
Hades grinned. “Did you enjoy it?”
“It... helped me understand what you meant about the food,” Aaren squeaked, turning away to hide his embarrassment.
He busied himself with the cleanup, trying not to think about how small the kitchen was, how close Hades was to him.
He tried not to think about Hades naked, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it so precome dripped from his tip.
“I can help,” Hades said after a while, setting down his fork.
“No, you paid for this! Just sit and enjoy the fruits of my, uh, labor.”
“I meant the wet spot on your pants.”
Aaren froze. He hadn’t been paying attention to the slick leaking out of him, but now that he was... There was a lot of it.
Fuck.
“Um,” he said, leaking more. Hades was still looking at his ass. Hades was volunteering to touch his ass. “Y-you don’t have to. Unless you want a happy ending for dessert...?”
“Nothing for me. Just a little gift for you.” Hades came to stand behind Aaren at the sink.
Aaren stopped thinking. He felt the wall of heat that was Hades, the sheer strength of him. Large hands grasped his hips. One slipped around him and touched his hard nipples through his shirt; the other palmed his ass, fingers dipping between his clothed cheeks.
“Oh gods,” Aaren gasped, clutching the sink’s edge. He knows I have an alpha.
And yet Hades’ fingers slipped further down the cleft of Aaren’s ass, toward his hole.
“You feel good,” Hades murmured.
Aaren had been wet and ready for far too long. When Hades’ fingers pressed between his cheeks, touching his hole through his pants, Aaren moaned. Precome squirted out of him.
“Mmm.” Hades released Aaren’s nipples and slid his hand down, cupping Aaren’s bulge like he had every right to it. Aaren spasmed, his cock throbbing.
This was crazy. It was wrong.
It shouldn’t feel so fucking good.
Especially because no alpha had touched Aaren like this, slow and seductive. Like he was someone to be courted and treasured.