Chapter 21
At the Shop
Perrin
My head falls back against the worn leather of the office chair, a guttural groan tearing from me as my cock pulses against Raff's tongue.
He hollows his cheeks, sucking me deeper as I come, his throat working around the head, milking every drop from me.
My fingers curl around his neck as I thrust up, fucking his mouth through my orgasm. His hands grip my thighs, holding me in place as I shudder, my entire body convulsing with the force of it.
When the waves finally subside, I'm left panting and boneless, my cock softening on his tongue as he gives one last, gentle suck before pulling away.
Slowly, Raff lifts up, letting my dick fall from his mouth, then licking his lips clean. A satisfied smirk plays on his face, and his eyes flash.
“You came so hard,” he growls softly, slipping his hands up my thighs. “Such a good boy, giving me every last drop.”
A breathless laugh escapes me, and I feel my cheeks warm. "Don't say things like that," I murmur, even as something in my chest goes embarrassingly soft at the praise. "You know what talking like that does to me."
"I do." Raff smiles as he rises to his feet, leaning over me. I tip my head all the way back to see him, then he bends and captures my lips in a deep, possessive kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it sends another jolt of desire through me.
My hands find his belt, and the phone buzzes on the desk.
I ignore it, working his buckle.
My fingers graze his shaft through his jeans and Raff makes a low sound that I feel in my spine. "Yes.” He moans when I pull his zipper down, freeing his perfect cock. “Suck me good, so I can use your spit as lube.”
I gasp and the phone buzzes again. Worried it might be important, I pull back enough to glare at it.
"Whoever it is can fuck off," Raff snarls, but I’m already turning away from him.
"I have to.” I give him a pointed look.
But instead of giving me a break, Raff drops back to his knees between my thighs. He licks my limp dick as his big hands slide up and squeeze my hips.
I bite back a sound as I answer the phone. "Marchetti Auto Salvage."
"Why aren't you answering my texts?" Adam's voice comes through flat and obviously annoyed.
"Sorry." I clear my throat and Raff sucks me harder. I shift in the chair, trying to push him away, but the bastard doesn’t budge. "We're getting the car now, Adam,” I say loudly, making Raff stop what he’s doing.
"Okay." A pause. "Raff too?"
"Yeah, Raff too."
"Fine. Don't be long." He hangs up.
I lower the phone and look down at Raff, who is resting his chin on my knee with an expression of complete innocence that fools absolutely nobody.
"Adam," I say.
"I heard." He stands, reaching for his shirt. Then he looks at me with those dark gray eyes, his mouth pulling into a slow smile. "Tell me again how good her mouth felt on you."
I roll my eyes, then tuck myself back in and zip up. "Do you really want to make Adam wait?"
Raff pauses, pretending to think about it. It’s both flattering and deeply concerning.
Finally, the alpha lets out a slow breath through his nose, grabs his shirt off the back of the chair, and pulls it over his head.
“Fine.” He crosses to the hook by the door and lifts a set of keys off it, giving them a single toss and catching them without looking. "But I want details on the drive."
"Absolutely not," I tease, following him out.
We head out through the back of the shop, past the skeletal frames of three stripped sedans and a pickup with no doors, to where a row of cars sits waiting on the back lot.
"Hey,” I say. “Can I ask you something?"
Raff glances back. "When have you ever asked permission?"
Fair point.
"How are you feeling about Elowen?" I ask. "Like, actually."
Raff slows and his expression shifts into something a bit more serious. "Good," he says. "Really good, actually. You?"
"Excited," I say, and I mean it. "Which is weird, right? Because this whole situation is insane. I mean, I should probably be freaking out. Right?”
"But you're not.” Raff’s brows raise, making it clear that it’s a question.
"I'm not," I say. "I keep thinking about her. Not even like—what happened between us in that tent." I pause. "But weird things. Like I want to bring her dinner and do her laundry. All I can think about is if she has enough blankets."
Raff stares at me.
"What?" I say.
"Nothing." But the corner of his mouth is pulling up.
"Say it."
"I find it interesting that you’re a full-blown pack-beta," he says. “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me too much. I mean, you didn’t even know you like men until you met me and Cliff.” He winks and I can’t help but smile.
"That's different." I give him a pointed look.
"Is it?"
"I'm not into men," I say, firmly. "I'm into you and Cliff. That's a very specific and narrow demographic."
Raff laughs, low and genuine, and makes my chest warm.
"Come on," he says, still smiling. "Let's grab a car off the back lot and head home.”
The second we walk in, I inhale deeply. The house smells amazing.
Something with garlic and butter, and there’s definitely freshly baked bread.
Raff moves ahead of me, as we step into the bright kitchen.
Cliff at the stove, in a pair of dark jeans and a faded T-shirt from his boxing gym. It stretches tight around his biceps as he stirs something in the big pot. Adam is beside the alpha, cutting up the garlic bread with a weird amount of focused energy.
And Elowen is perched on one of the barstools with her knees drawn up.
She’s wearing what looks like one of my shirts and a pair of sweats that are about four inches too long for her.
Her long hair hangs loose in big waves around her shoulders.
She has both hands wrapped around a mug and she's watching Cliff and Adam move around each other in the kitchen with a quiet expression on her face.
She looks up when we come in.
Raff walks right past her, going straight to Adam first. He leans in and presses a kiss to my brother’s cheek. Adam tips into it automatically, and something in his shoulders loosens slightly.
Then Raff pivots and crosses back to the island.
Elowen goes still as he leans down and kisses her cheek too like it's the most natural thing in the world. Elowen looks startled for exactly one second. Then her cheeks go pink, and she ducks her head over her mug like she doesn't want anyone to see it.
But I’m pretty sure everyone saw.
I step up to the island and settle in next to Elowen, leaning my forearms against the counter. I’m so close I can smell the faint, clean scent of soap drifting off her skin. I wish like hell she wasn’t wearing those damn blockers.
I’d love even one unfiltered breath of what's underneath.
Elowen glances at me from under her lashes, and our eyes meet for half a second before she looks away again.
I don’t know why, but seeing her act so shy with me—a common, regular beta—makes me feel inexplicably giddy. Like a teenager. But I manage to keep my face neutral, as I look up at the stove.
"Dinner smells amazing," I say, looking up at Cliff.
"Angelica come by yet?" Raff asks as he takes the barstool on the other side of Elowen.
Cliff doesn't look up from the stove. "No." He almost sounds disappointed. “The fact that she’s not already here, means she’s taking her time on purpose.” He glances over his shoulder at Raff. “It makes sense. We aren’t going anywhere, so she knows she doesn’t have to rush.”
Raff rolls his eyes, obviously agreeing. “I’m sure she thinks she’s playing some kind of mind game.”
"Alright, boys," Adam cuts in, his voice carrying over everyone else's. “No more business.” He twists the knob to the burner as he checks the pot Cliff's been stirring. "Dinner's ready."
I push off the island and move around to the other side, making room. Adam slides onto the barstool I just vacated. I notice how he’s moving carefully, one hand bracing against the counter as he settles onto the seat.
He’s definitely in pain.
I’d love to tell him to slow down, but there’s no point.
I've had this argument with my brother more times than I can count, and I have never once won.
He'll tell me he's fine, and to fuck off.
Hell, even Cliff can’t get the beta to slow down during a flare. Adam grits his teeth and keeps going like he can will his pain away.
So I say nothing.
Cliff sets a stack of plates down next to me, then a giant pot of pasta. It’s the good kind, with a sauce that Odette taught Cliff how to make from scratch. I can only assume our pack alpha is either trying to impress Elowen, or is desperate to make Adam happy by making his favorite meal.
Maybe both.
"So," Raff says as he reaches across Elowen, snatching a piece of bread. "Where are you from?"
Elowen picks up her fork, then slowly looks up at Raff. He looks down at her, waiting for her answer, and her eyes go wide with genuine surprise, like she wasn't expecting anyone to talk to her.
“Me?” She points at herself with her fork.
I can’t help but smile. The look on her face is very cute.
The corner of Raff’s mouth turns up, before growing into a proper smile. "Yeah," he says. "You." He tears a piece off his bread. "There's no one else here I don't already know everything about."
Elowen lets out a nervous laugh, staring down as Cliff piles a heap of pasta on her plate. "I’m from Cassville," she finally says.
"Cassville?" I lean toward her. "A big city girl."
"Cassville has one stoplight,” she says with a smile. “It’s definitely not a big city."
"One more than we had growing up," I say, then look at Adam, but he’s too busy pushing his pasta around with his fork.
"Anything south of the dividing line is a big city," Raff says, completely serious. "They have bus stops and fire departments down there.” He pops a piece of bread into his mouth. “That’s some fancy, inner-city shit right there.”
Elowen immediately laughs. It's small and surprised, like it got out before she could stop it. She covers her mouth with the back of her hand then nods.