Chapter Six
Tired, Grayson crawled into bed. He’d planned to stay downstairs, keep watch with the others, and maintain the distance necessary to keep Ryan safe from truths he wasn't ready to handle yet. But his feet carried him back up the stairs, drawn by something more fundamental than logic.
The door to his room stood partially open, exactly as he’d left it. Grayson pushed it wider, letting light from the hallway spill across the floor. Ryan was still in bed, the covers pulled up to his shoulders, but his eyes were open as he stared at the ceiling.
“Can’t sleep?” Grayson kept his voice low.
Ryan turned his head on the pillow. His hair was mussed, falling across his forehead in a way that made Grayson want to brush it back.
“My brain won't stop. Every time I close my eyes I see that text message. Or I hear sounds and convince myself someone's breaking in.” He let out a breath that might have been a laugh. “I’m a mess. This is me being a complete mess.”
Grayson moved into the room, closing the door behind him. The sound of the latch clicking seemed loud in the quiet. “You’re not a mess.”
“I’m literally hiding in your bed because I’m too scared to sleep alone.
That’s pretty much the definition of a mess.
” Ryan pushed himself up on one elbow. The covers slipped down, revealing the thin T-shirt that hung off his shoulder.
“You don't have to babysit me. I’ll be fine. Eventually. Probably.”
The humor didn’t reach his eyes. Grayson could see the fear still there, lurking behind the jokes, could smell it on Ryan’s skin, underneath the fruity shampoo and laundry detergent. His mate was terrified, trying to hide it, and Grayson was done pretending he could maintain distance.
“Move over,” Grayson said.
Ryan blinked at him. “What?”
“Move over.” Grayson pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it onto the chair. Ryan’s eyes went wide, tracking the movement. “You’re not sleeping alone.”
“You’re getting in bed with me.” Ryan’s voice pitched higher. “That’s what’s happening right now. You’re just deciding to get in bed with me.”
“That a problem?” Grayson unbuttoned his jeans but left them on. Getting fully undressed seemed like a step too far, even as everything in him wanted to strip down and wrap himself around his mate until the fear disappeared.
“No. Not a problem. Definitely not a problem.” Ryan scooted over, making room. The covers rustled with the movement. “This is fine. Totally normal. Two guys who barely know each other sharing a bed because of death threats. Very normal situation.”
Grayson climbed into bed beside him. The mattress dipped under his weight. Ryan’s warmth radiated from inches away, and Grayson’s lion rumbled with satisfaction at the proximity. His mate. In his bed. Where he belonged.
“You’re really warm,” Ryan said. He was still propped up on one elbow, looking down at Grayson like he didn’t quite believe this was happening. “Like, really warm. Are you always this warm, or is it a medical condition I should be concerned about?”
“I run hot.” Grayson reached up and tugged gently on Ryan’s arm. “Lie down.”
Ryan let himself be pulled down. He settled onto his side, facing Grayson, leaving a few inches of space between them. His eyes were huge in the dim light, pupils dilated. Grayson could hear his heart racing, could smell the spike of something that wasn't quite fear anymore. Something headier.
“This is better, right?” Ryan’s hands fidgeted with the edge of the covers.
“Having someone else here. Less scary. Although now I’m worried I’ll keep you awake with my anxious fidgeting.
I’m a terrible sleeper. I steal covers and talk in my sleep, and apparently, I kick sometimes, though I have no memory of that so it might be slander. ”
Grayson moved closer, eliminating the space between them.
He wrapped an arm around Ryan’s waist and pulled him in until Ryan’s back pressed against his torso.
The position put Grayson’s nose near Ryan’s hair, and he breathed in the scent of his mate.
Fruit and fear and, underneath it all, something uniquely Ryan.
“Better?” Grayson asked against Ryan’s ear.
Ryan went very still. His breathing hitched. “Yeah. Better.”
Grayson’s hand spread across Ryan’s stomach, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing through the thin shirt.
He could feel Ryan’s pulse where his wrist rested against his abdomen.
Too fast. Still scared. Grayson started rubbing slow circles against Ryan’s back, working at the knots of tension he could feel through the fabric.
“You’re safe,” Grayson murmured. His mouth was close enough to Ryan’s ear that he felt him twitch at the words. “Nothing's going to hurt you. I promise.”
“You keep promising that.” Ryan’s voice came out thready. “What if you can’t keep it?”
“I can.” Grayson continued the slow circles, feeling the muscles gradually start to loosen under his palm. “Trust me.”
“I do. That’s the weird part.” Ryan shifted slightly, pressing back into Grayson’s hand. “I've known you for like three days, and I’m letting you spoon me in your bed because I’m terrified. That’s either trust or stupidity. Jury's still out on which.”
“Not stupidity.” Grayson’s hand moved higher, working at the tension in Ryan’s shoulders. The T-shirt rode up slightly with the movement, exposing a strip of skin. Grayson’s thumb brushed against it, and Ryan made a sound low in his throat.
They stayed like that for several minutes, Grayson working out the knots, Ryan gradually relaxing into the touch. The fear scent started to fade, replaced by something warmer. Something that made Grayson’s lion purr with satisfaction.
Ryan turned over. The movement was sudden, bringing them face to face. Only inches separated them now. Grayson could count Ryan’s eyelashes if he wanted to, could see the flecks of color in his eyes that the dim light almost hid.
”This seems like maybe more than just comforting someone who's scared.” Ryan’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Grayson’s hand stilled on Ryan’s back. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” Ryan’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. Grayson tracked the movement. “I really, really don't want you to stop. Which is probably a bad idea given everything happening, but my brain is finally not thinking about death threats, so I’m counting that as a win.”
Grayson moved his hand up to cup the back of Ryan’s neck. His fingers threaded through the soft hair there. Ryan’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment then opened again.
“You can kiss me,” Ryan said. “If you want. I know we kissed earlier, but that feels like a million years ago and I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining that you want to, but I’m terrible at reading signals so I could be completely wrong and making this super awkward.”
Grayson kissed him, cut off the rambling with his mouth and swallowing Ryan’s small gasp of surprise. Ryan’s lips were soft, parting immediately to let Grayson in. The taste of him went straight to Grayson’s head, making his lion growl softly with possessive satisfaction. His mate. Finally.
Ryan made another sound, needy and desperate.
His hands came up to fist in Grayson’s hair, pulling him closer.
The kiss deepened, turning hungry. Grayson rolled them until Ryan was on his back, Grayson’s weight pressing him into the mattress.
Ryan spread his legs and Grayson settled between them like he belonged there.
“God,” Ryan breathed when they broke apart. His lips were already swollen, his eyes glazed. “That’s even better than earlier. How is it better than earlier?”
Grayson didn’t answer. He kissed Ryan again, slower this time. Savoring the taste of him, the way Ryan’s body arched up into his. Ryan’s hands moved from Grayson’s hair to his shoulders, his nails digging in through the skin.
“Wait.” Ryan turned his head, breaking the kiss. “Wait, I need to say something before my brain completely stops working.”
Grayson pulled back enough to look at him. Ryan’s face was flushed, his breathing ragged. His T-shirt had ridden up, exposing his stomach. Grayson wanted to put his mouth there, wanted to taste every inch of exposed skin.
“I’m not good at this,” Ryan said. His eyes darted away, focusing on something past Grayson’s shoulder.
“The whole casual thing. I get attached. Like really attached. So if this is just a distraction or a one-time thing because I’m scared and you’re being nice, I need you to tell me now before I get all weird about it. ”
Grayson brought his hand up to Ryan’s face, turning him until their eyes met. “This isn't casual. And it’s not because you’re scared.”
“Then what is it?” Ryan searched his face. “Because three days ago you didn’t know I existed and now you’re letting me hide in your house and you’re in bed with me and I just need to understand what this is.”
Grayson wanted to tell him everything. That Ryan was his mate, that every protective instinct and possessive thought was hardwired into his DNA. But the words wouldn’t come. Ryan wasn't ready for that truth.
“It’s me wanting you,” Grayson said instead. “That’s what this is.”
Ryan stared at him for a long moment. Then his mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. “Okay. That’s good. I can work with that.” He pulled Grayson back down, their mouths meeting again.
This kiss was different. Deeper. Ryan’s tongue slid against Grayson’s, his hips rolling up in a movement that made Grayson growl low in his throat.
Grayson moved his mouth to Ryan’s jaw, trailing kisses along the line of it.
Ryan’s head fell back, exposing his throat.
The trust in that gesture made something fierce and protective rise in Grayson’s gut.
His mate, offering his throat. The lion wanted to mark him there, wanted to make sure everyone knew Ryan belonged to him.
“You’re making sounds,” Ryan said. His voice came out breathless. “Like growling sounds. That’s really hot. Is it weird that I find that hot?”
Grayson scraped his teeth along Ryan’s throat, not hard enough to mark, just enough to make him gasp. “Not weird.”
“Good. Because I’m into it.” Ryan’s hands moved down Grayson’s back, fingers tracing the muscles there. “You’re very built. I noticed that before, but now I’m really noticing it. This is a lot of muscle. Do you live at the gym, or is this a genetics thing?”
“Genetics.” Grayson moved lower, kissing along Ryan’s collarbone. The T-shirt was in the way. He grabbed the hem and pulled it up. Ryan lifted his arms to help, and then the shirt was gone, tossed somewhere into the darkness.
Grayson looked down at him. Ryan’s skin was pale, scattered with a few freckles across his shoulders. His ribs moved with each breath, the muscles of his stomach taut. Grayson traced his fingers down Ryan’s sternum, watching goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch.
“Still good?” Grayson asked.
“Yeah.” Ryan’s hands came up to frame Grayson’s face. “Really good. Excellent, even. Top-tier good.”
Grayson kissed him again, swallowing the nervous rambling. Ryan melted into it, his body going pliant. Grayson mapped the planes of Ryan’s torso with his hands, learning the dips and curves. Ryan’s skin was hot under his palms, his pulse jumping where Grayson’s fingers pressed against his throat.
“You’re really good at this,” Ryan said against his mouth. “Like concerningly good. Should I be worried about how much practice you've had?”
“No.” Grayson moved lower, kissing down Ryan’s neck. The taste of his skin made the lion rumble with satisfaction. Salt and something sweet, uniquely Ryan. Grayson wanted to memorize it, catalog every flavor.
Ryan’s hands tangled in Grayson’s hair again. His hips rolled up, seeking friction. Grayson could feel Ryan’s erection through the sweatpants, could smell his arousal mixing with the lingering fear. The combination made something possessive coil in his gut.
“Tell me what you want,” Grayson said against Ryan’s collarbone.
“I don't know.” Ryan’s laugh came out breathless. “Everything? That’s probably too ambitious. My brain is not functioning at full capacity right now.”
Grayson kissed lower, following the line of muscle down Ryan’s stomach. Ryan’s breathing picked up, his fingers tightening in Grayson’s hair. When Grayson’s mouth reached the waistband of his sweatpants, Ryan made a sound that went straight to Grayson’s dick.
“Oh,” Ryan said. “Oh, that’s what you want to do. Okay. Yes. That’s a good plan.”
Grayson hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled. Ryan lifted his hips to help, and then the sweatpants were gone. Ryan wasn't wearing anything underneath. His cock lay hard against his stomach, flushed and leaking at the tip.
“I should probably be embarrassed about how into this I am,” Ryan said. His voice had gone high and thready. “Given that we’re doing this because I was too scared to sleep alone. That’s probably not the sexiest origin story.”
“Stop thinking.” Grayson wrapped his hand around Ryan’s cock. The heat of it burned against his palm. Ryan’s whole body jerked, a gasp tearing from his throat.
“Not thinking,” Ryan managed. “Thinking has left the building.”
Grayson stroked slowly, watching Ryan’s face. His eyes had fallen closed, his mouth open. The tendons in his neck stood out. Beautiful. His mate was beautiful like this, coming apart under Grayson’s hands.
“Please,” Ryan said. “Please, I need—”
Grayson lowered his head and took Ryan into his mouth. The taste of him flooded Grayson’s senses, salt and musk and something that made the lion purr. Ryan’s hips bucked up involuntarily, pushing deeper. Grayson held him down with one hand splayed across his stomach, controlling the movement.