Tending to Eric
Wolfe sipped his wine on Danny and Roman’s poor excuse for a sofa, determinedly not listening to Johann blather on next to him about a baking recipe Wolfe had neither asked for nor had any interest in.
Wolfe would perhaps be more amenable if Johann were to discuss, for example, his extensive financial portfolios, but apparently, that was Alexei’s purview.
Wolfe slightly doubted their local mobster had the brain cells necessary for the task, but that was Johann’s burden to bear.
He could do with his half of the den inheritance whatever he wished.
“—because they’re Eric’s favorite.”
Wolfe whipped his head back to face Johann, who was peering eagerly up at him, acting for all the world as if Wolfe had been paying attention from the beginning.
“Repeat that.”
“The cinnamon rolls,” Johann repeated dutifully. “They’re Eric’s favorite. He told me they were his secret indulgence from that bakery near the hospital. He’d stop there on stressful days.”
It was a bit of an effort, but Wolfe managed to put aside his annoyance that there was any aspect of Eric Johann might know more about than himself. “Send me the recipe,” he ordered.
“Really?” Johann looked delighted, his gray eyes shining as if Wolfe had just paid him the highest compliment.
Wolfe nodded. “But no more baking talk.”
“Okay,” Johann said easily, leaning down to pet Danny and Roman’s mutt. “I know you’re not usually that interested, just…I thought maybe Eric could use some cheering up?”
At that, Wolfe’s gaze settled back to where it had been for all of Jay’s cinnamon roll talk. Where it had been for most of the evening. Where it always landed.
On his mate.
His mate, who’d been looking tense and miserable all night, uncomfortable in his skin in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. Since meeting me, Wolfe thought smugly, his beast purring its agreement.
Except now Eric’s unhappiness was strong enough to be emanating through the bond, even with Gabe at the dining table next to him reporting on some medical case, a subject which could usually catch Eric’s interest. If Wolfe thought Gabe was the issue, he would have separated them already, but he knew exactly what the issue was.
The mother.
The wretched woman had called earlier that day, and while Eric claimed she had said nothing untoward, he’d been acting like a kicked puppy ever since.
Wolfe had thought this “family” dinner would cheer Eric up—it was the only reason Wolfe ever agreed to the tedious affairs in the first place—but dining at Danny and Roman’s had done nothing to lift the black cloud hovering over his mate.
In which case, what was the point?
Wolfe set his wine down and stood from the couch. “Excuse me,” he told Johann, then paused. “Don’t forget to send the recipe.”
Jay beamed up at him. “I won’t.”
Wolfe nodded once, then made his way to the dining table. He settled a firm hand on Eric’s shoulder, gratified when a good measure of the tension his mate had been holding released instantly at his touch. “We’ll be going now,” he announced at large.
Gabe scowled at him over his beer. “Dude. I was in the middle of a story.”
“Let them go, Highness,” Soren said lazily from his place on Gabe’s lap. “It was a boring one, anyway.”
Gabe transferred his scowl to his mate. “Hey!”
“I’m sorry, but if you’re gonna talk medical, there should either be gushing blood or inappropriate objects stuck in salacious places. This is a dinner party. Have some decorum.”
Gabe scoffed but noticeably held his mate even tighter against him. “Brat.”
Wolfe gave them no more attention, tucking a pliant Eric under his arm and raising his voice just enough to be heard in the kitchen, where Roman and Danny had been pretending to organize coffee and tea but in reality had been mauling each other’s mouths for at least the last twenty minutes.
“Thank you for another…lovely evening. We’re going. ”
Danny’s breathless, “See you later,” and Roman’s vague, grumbled goodbye followed them out the door.
Wolfe waited until his mate was settled in the passenger seat of the car before facing him fully. “Darling.”
Eric sighed, slumping his blond head back against the headrest. “I know.”
“She knows,” Wolfe countered. “She knows there are consequences to upsetting you.”
“She didn’t say anything though,” Eric told him, rubbing his face aggressively, clearly frustrated by the fact. “She was fine. Really. It was just a feeling. Sometimes just talking to her… It brings stuff up.”
“And what ‘stuff’ did this conversation bring up?” Wolfe kept his voice even, despite the beast inside him raging, urging him to do away for good with this woman who had caused his mate such discontent for so long.
Eric had been clear. No murdering the mother.
So Wolfe waited patiently through the long silence, rewarded when Eric broke, crying out miserably, “What kind of person gives up being a doctor?” He immediately winced at his own words, turning his head to face Wolfe.
“I know you think it’s fine. That I don’t owe anyone anything, but any normal person—”
Wolfe cut in, unwilling to let his mate continue to berate himself for another moment.
“You don’t owe anyone anything, Eric. Your existence does not need to be justified by a career, however noble.
If you’re unhappy with your lack of employment, we’ll look into research positions, as you’ve expressed interest before. ”
Eric’s pout didn’t diminish. “What if they won’t take me? I’ve been unemployed for, like, more than a year now. They’ll think I’m defective.”
“Then we’ll compel them into giving you a job.”
Wolfe was nothing if not a problem solver.
Misery still emanated through the bond, but Eric looked for a moment like he was fighting back a smile. “That’s unethical, you know.”
Wolfe only gave him a look.
Eric let out a small laugh, a little more of that tension leaving him. “You’re hopeless.”
“I’m perfect,” Wolfe countered. “As are you. Just as you are.”
“I know you think that. I just—I still have trouble feeling it, sometimes.” Eric gave him a remarkably sweet smile. “Only sometimes though. So that’s an improvement.”
“Allow me to make it better.” It should have been a question, maybe, but it came out as a command.
Eric didn’t seem to mind. He let out a long breath. “Yeah.” He smiled again, brighter this time. “You’re good at that. Making it better.”
If Wolfe’s heart stopped, just for a moment, at those guileless words…well, that was his business alone.
Wolfe first led Eric into the bedroom, setting him on the edge of their bed while he selected a set of comfortable clothes from the dresser. He normally would have put Eric in his robe, but Wolfe’s mate was feeling fragile, so emotional comfort had to be factored in more than aesthetics.
Wolfe ultimately chose a pair of soft, worn track pants he knew Eric favored. His fingers briefly hovered over one of Eric’s more faded, comfortable T-shirts, but he left it where it was—bare skin would be preferable for them both.
He handed the pants to Eric wordlessly, waiting until Eric started undressing, then began the meticulous process of removing his own suit, changing into his preferred silk dressing gown.
He led Eric into the den.
Wolfe grabbed his current novel from his desk, then sat on the couch, spreading his legs wide, taking one of the larger throw pillows and setting it on the rug between his knees, gesturing for Eric to kneel upon it.
Eric immediately complied, looking up at Wolfe from the floor, his face open and trusting, if still touched with a bit of sadness.
He really thought someone could believe him defective?
Eric was nowhere near defective.
He was perfect.
Wolfe let the lower half of his dressing gown fall open, revealing his cock to Eric’s perusal. It was half-hard already, responsive as always to the sight of Eric’s beautiful body, and to the low hum of arousal that had been emitting from him since he’d watched Wolfe undress.
Arousal that thrummed through Wolfe as well. But there was no urgency to it—not yet. This wasn’t about claiming—this was about taking care of what belonged to him.
“I want your mouth,” he began, and Eric immediately leaned forward, eager as ever.
Wolfe halted him with a hand on his face, gripping Eric’s chin. “You’re not to suck me off,” he instructed. “You’re to hold me in your mouth while I read. Just that, until I’m ready for more.”
Eric swallowed hard. “Cock warming?” he asked.
“Mm. I think you need a reminder, darling.” Wolfe stroked his thumb against Eric’s cheek.
“You owe nothing to this world because your only allegiance is here. With me. You were born to be my mate, and as such, you are already perfect. You could spend all day kneeling at my feet, and it would be a day well spent.” He dipped his thumb into Eric’s mouth, pressing down lightly on his tongue. “Do you not agree?”
Eric sighed, his tongue swiping at Wolfe’s thumb before he removed it. “As always, your perspective is kind of skewed in the psycho direction.”
Wolfe’s smile was savage. “And you love me anyway.”
Eric sighed again. “Yes.”
“And that’s all I need from you,” Wolfe said firmly, hoping to get the message across.
Eric cocked his head coyly. “I thought you needed my mouth.”
“I want your mouth,” Wolfe corrected. “But if you’d rather take a nap on this couch with your head in my lap, we can—”
“No,” Eric said quickly, his lower lip pushing into a pout. “You promised cock warming.”
Wolfe smirked. “I merely suggested.”
But Eric was already leaning forward against Wolfe’s hold. Wolfe released his mate’s face, and Eric swallowed him down in an instant, the warmth of his mouth causing even more blood to rush to Wolfe’s cock.
“No sucking,” Wolfe reminded him—and himself. “Just to keep me warm, pet.”
Eric nodded as best he could with his full mouth, shuffling his knees a little closer to the couch.
Wolfe picked up his book.