Chapter 9 Mark
MARK
La Fiora restaurant was tucked between an antique shop and an old bakery that always seemed to smell like sugar and cinnamon.
Inside, the scent of basil and roasted garlic hit me like a promise. Zack’s eyes widened as we stepped in.
“You actually got us in here?” he said, glancing around the crowded dining room. Every table was full.
Zack continued, “I’ve been trying to get a reservation for months. How’d you pull this off?”
I smirked, pretending to adjust the collar of my jacket. “Bribed one of the waiters.”
He turned to me, mock horror written all over his face. “You did not.”
“Okay, not really,” I said, trying not to laugh. “My brother Dane works here. I might’ve traded him a week of chores when he visits next.”
Zack chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not bribery. That’s sibling blackmail.”
“Effective, though,” I said, holding out his chair for him. “And you can’t argue with results.”
He settled into the seat, his eyes still warm with amusement. “I’ll admit, I’m impressed.”
“Good,” I said, sliding into my own seat across from him. “That’s kind of the point.”
The waiter came by with menus, but I barely looked at mine. Zack did, though. He scanned the page, lips pursed in concentration.
I found myself watching him instead. I imagined tracing the soft furrow between his brows, the curve of his mouth as he murmured something about truffle oil.
“So,” Zack said after a moment, setting down the menu. “Are we doing the whole ‘pretend we’re sophisticated and pick something we can’t pronounce’ thing, or just order the good stuff?”
“The good stuff,” I said immediately. “Always the good stuff.”
He grinned, and that spark of shared humor made something in my chest loosen.
We ended up ordering two pastas to share.
Carbonara, the other a simple but perfect tomato and basil. And because Zack’s eyes lingered a moment too long on the dessert list, I added a tiramisu.
Over dinner, conversation flowed as easily as the wine.
We talked about music and movies, the ridiculous things that had happened during the audition, and how small towns like Pecan Pines seemed to attract more drama than anywhere else.
Zack told me more about his earlier days with his first band, careful not to mention Theo.
I told him about growing up in a noisy, chaotic household, where trying to get five brothers to share a bathroom was basically a blood sport.
He laughed so hard he nearly choked on his pasta.
“I’m serious,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “You think pack dominance fights are bad? Try morning showers.”
“Okay, okay, I’m picturing it,” Zack said between laughs.
The warmth in his eyes when he looked at me after that did something strange to my heartbeat. He looked happy and relaxed.
That, more than anything, made the whole night feel like a win. When the waiter brought the tiramisu, Zack leaned forward, eyes bright.
“Okay, I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he said.
“You could’ve just ordered it first,” I said, teasing.
“Please. Dessert is the grand finale.” He scooped up a bit and offered me a spoonful. “C’mon. Tell me this isn’t the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
I leaned in, lips brushing the edge of the spoon as I took a bite. Sweet, creamy, laced with espresso.
“Damn,” I said quietly. “You might be right.”
His gaze lingered on me for a moment too long before he looked down again, faint color rising in his cheeks. “Told you.”
The air between us shifted after that. It became charged. Every time our hands brushed reaching for the same dish, I felt it.
Every smile seemed to hang in the air a second longer than it should.
By the time the plates were cleared, I didn’t want the night to end. I offered to cover the bill before Zack could even reach for his wallet.
“You sure?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Positive,” I said. “You can get the next one.”
He raised a brow, clearly catching the implication that there’d be a next one. Instead of arguing, he just smiled. “Deal.”
Outside, the air was crisp and cold, tinged with the faint smell of woodsmoke. Zack walked beside me, our hands brushing occasionally as we made our way to the car.
He didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed to drift closer.
The drive back was quiet, but not in a bad way. It was the kind of silence that felt comfortable, like we didn’t need to fill it.
Zack hummed softly to whatever song played on the radio. I found myself watching him out of the corner of my eye.
When we pulled up to his building, I parked and killed the engine. For a second, neither of us moved. Then Zack turned toward me, his smile small but warm.
“You really went all out tonight ,” Zack remarked.
“Guess I just wanted to make a good impression.”
“You did,” he said. “Trust me.”
Something unspoken lingered there, a question neither of us voiced. I tried not to hope too obviously, but my pulse gave me away.
“Do you want to come in?”
I swallowed, trying to play it cool. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Inside Zack’s apartment, the lights were dim. Zack turned on some music so soft jazz played faintly from a speaker somewhere.
The scent of the flowers I’d brought still lingered in the air, mingling with something warm. Cinnamon, or maybe it was just him.
Zack shrugged off his jacket and hung it by the door. I followed suit, suddenly aware of how close we were in the small entryway.
Our shoulders brushed again, and neither of us moved away.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Zack said, his voice lower now, softer around the edges.
“Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”
For a moment, we just stood there, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body, see the tiny flecks of gold in his storm blue eyes.
Then he smiled and the tension that had been building all night snapped like a live wire.
“Come here,” I said.
Zack didn’t need to be told twice. When Zack was within touching distance, I tugged him close and kissed him. The kiss started slow but this time, the restraint didn’t last long.
I leaned in, closing my hand on the back of his neck. Zack responded instinctively, and I pulled him closer.
Every thought scattered. I could still taste tiramisu on his lips, and hear the faint sound of his breath catching between kisses.
His scent mingled with mine, grounding and intoxicating all at once. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest, quick and strong, matching my own.
The warmth that started between us deepened, spreading until my skin felt too tight, every nerve alive.
When we finally broke apart, he was still close enough that our foreheads touched.
“Maybe we should—” he started, then paused, searching my face. “You want to stay awhile?”
I nodded, unable to form words.
He smiled, brushing his thumb along my jaw. “Come on.”
He led me through the softly lit apartment, past the little table where the flowers now stood, and into his bedroom.
It was simple but comfy. Warm wood furniture, soft bedding, a faint glow from the lamp beside the bed. He turned to me, eyes flicking briefly to my lips again.
The air between us felt charged all over again, like we’d stepped into some delicate, suspended moment that could shatter if we breathed too hard.
I lifted a hand, tracing the edge of his jaw with my fingers, feeling the faint stubble there.
“You sure?” I asked quietly.
Zack met my gaze, steady and certain. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
The rest happened in a blur of warmth and closeness.
I reached for Zack, sealing my mouth over his. We deepened the kiss and I could feel my member pressing up against the zipper of my jeans.
In a matter of seconds, both of us were out of our clothes. Zack climbed into bed, lying on his back. I joined him, straddling him, spoiling him with kisses.
I left a trail of them down his neck, his chest, his stomach. When I kissed the tip of his member, Zack shivered in anticipation.
Taking him in my mouth, I felt him groan. I bobbed my head up and down. Every sound of pleasure that emerged from his lips sounded like music to my ears.
I pulled my mouth away just as Zack climaxed. With his hair disheveled, his body slick with sweat, he looked gorgeous.
Mine, I thought possessively, as I flipped him on his hands and knees.
While Zack positioned himself at the edge of the bed, I reached for my discarded jeans and pulled out some lube.
I was anticipating this, or rather I was hoping tonight would end this way.
I moved myself behind Zack, pleased he spread his legs further. He wanted this as much as I did.
After applying a generous amount in his passage, I slid one, then two digits inside him and began prepping him for my access.
Deeming him ready, I pulled my fingers and replaced them with my dick. Gripping his hips, I entered him, going slow and steady.
Once I was balls deep inside him, Zack moaned.
“Faster, Mark. Please.”
That last word undid me. I picked up the pace, settled on a rhythm which suited us both. In no time at all, I reduced us both to panting messes.
Each time I entered him, it felt like a part of my wolf, my soul, reached out to brush against Zack’s. I don’t think I ever felt this way with anyone else.
I doubt I ever will, because deep down I’d always known. Even two years ago, my wolf had known that Zack belonged to us. At my last push, I splintered and emptied my balls.
Zack cried out, fingers curled in the sheets. After I pulled out, I quickly grabbed some tissues from the box on the dresser. Once I cleaned us both up, I slid next to Zack in bed.
He curled automatically against me and I slid an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. I wasn’t surprised our bodies were a perfect fit.
Zack looked lethargic, perfectly mine.
Zack shut his eyes and in a matter of seconds, I could hear his soft breathing and see the steady rise and fall of his chest.
He’d fallen asleep. I didn’t think I would fall into slumber anytime soon, so I watched his gorgeous sleeping profile instead.
I didn’t know what tomorrow would look like, or how complicated things might get with Theo hovering somewhere in the background. Right then, none of it mattered.
All that mattered was Zack’s body pressed against mine.
The quiet sound of his breath, the way everything around us seemed to fade until it was just the two of us, tangled up in something that felt inevitable.