Chapter Six
Ian
Was it wrong to pretend to be so clueless? Ian’s animal side didn’t seem to think so when Rick was right there helping—touching! Ian was sure his cock had lost the ability to go back to its normal size. Could a cock get bruised from being rammed against a metal zipper for so long?
Ian was sure his would have a permanent scar by the end of the day.
A day that had just got better and better.
His bear demonstrated such a caring side, Ian felt his eyes sting repeatedly.
He was a weeper, a full-on crybaby, and all the attention Rick was lavishing on him, yeah, it made his chest ache.
Not something an alpha was supposed to be. His mother had told him often enough he was too soft hearted even while playing on his soft nature. He never minded; he enjoyed being supportive of his family even if they often forgot that he had a life of his own to live.
“You sure know what you’re doing, Rick. Have you done this before?” a small redheaded omega questioned, leaning forward as if trying to crawl across the wooden table they were at having lunch, to get closer to Rick.
Ian got it, his mate was irresistible, he didn’t have to like it, so he leaned into Rick’s side giving the omega a ‘back off’ smile, which was all teeth.
He was feeling a little insecure as they hadn’t claimed each other, not that Rick looked unhappy at finding out he had an alpha mate instead of a cute omega.
Rick slung his beefy arm over the back of Ian’s shoulder, like a warm security blanket, bringing Ian in close to all those brawny muscles that had Ian all hot and flustered and his cock doing the free puppet show once more.
Behave, imprinted zipper scars are not a good look!
Are you talking to your cock? Have we stooped that low now?
Ian ignored his animal’s snark when Rick responded to the omega. “Used to work the rodeo circuit and on a dude ranch, but it was a long time ago.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but to Ian, it helped paint a picture of the man.
The redhead didn’t seem to get the hint that Rick was spoken for when he fluttered his eyelashes at him, head tilting, wearing a look he probably thought was adorable or some shit. It totally isn’t. “If we have to partner up this afternoon, will you be mine?”
Another omegas sat close enough to hear the conversation and grinned. Some of them had attempted to get Rick’s attention during the morning when he lingered with Ian, showing him the ropes. He was pleasant… friendly even, which Ian supposed they took the wrong way!
Ian’s teeth ground together, his back molars chewing more vigorously on the sandwich he was eating. When he swallowed, it tasted foul suddenly. His body grew tighter than a string on a bow as he waited for Rick to answer.
Ian wasn’t the most confident person when it came to his personal life. He was positively smitten with his mate already after just half a day together, but his mate didn’t seem to have the same level of desire Ian had. What did that mean?
The arm slung over his shoulders slipped, and Ian had no time to register his disappointment when Rick started to rub at the tensing muscles.
“Sorry, I’m spoken for.” He glanced at Ian as if reading every thought in his head.
A softness to the smile aimed at him had his heart lodge in the back of his throat.
When Rick came forward, their lips not quite touching, Ian thought he might pass out.
Wave after wave of dizziness crested inside him, his upper body had no circulating blood let in it.
Now is not the time to faint, his animal side reprimanded.
Can’t say for sure, I’m not gonna.
Ian could feel the touch of the sweet-scented breath on his parted lips as he sucked in a ragged breath. Was he panting? It sure as hell felt like it.
They held each other’s gaze, and the sounds around them became white noise as Rick removed the gap and brushed his full, warm lips against Ian’s in the briefest of touches.
Heat bloomed in his chest and spread like wildfire as Rick murmured, “You make such a pretty picture, all flushed. I bet you’ll look even better when you’re naked and wearing that pretty color for a different reason.”
He huffed out a laugh that sounded more like a groan as he slid his hand off the table into his lap to shift the ever-present erection that, yep, was back, offering its puppet show talents. Christ, at this rate, he could have a new career on Only fans, he could make a fortune. Dancing dick show!
When Rick slipped his hand over Ian’s and squeezed, he was done for. His cock spurted like a damn geyser. Rick’s nostrils flared, and the heat in those honey brown eyes left Ian needier than sun scorched earth in a drought season.
“Get a room,” someone called and broke the spell.
Ian could not remember a time when he’d ever acted so blatantly in front of a crowd and in broad daylight. He dipped his chin, not making eye contact with anyone, deciding whether he could untuck his shirt and cover the very obvious wet spot other shifters could smell.
Rick’s laughter rumbled through Ian as he moved closer and whispered in his ear, “Ignore them, they’re only jealous. They wish they were as hot as you.”
Ian hadn’t thought he could get any more aroused, he was wrong.
“Right, are we ready and fueled for a fun afternoon of watching barrel racing and bull riding?” Remy called gaily, saving Ian from any more embarrassment.
He was going to need to find the restroom and use a hand dryer to get rid of the wet patch. “I just need to use the restroom,” he muttered, doing his best to act naturally and not walk like he had a pole stuck in the front of his jeans. Hard, but not impossible.
In the stall, Ian painfully unzipped his jeans and tugged them down, desperate times call for desperate measures. He had never had a need to stroke his cock in a restroom before, but he couldn’t go back out and appear decent if he didn’t do something.
He closed his eyes, taking hold of his cock firmly, the hard, silky length pulsed at the touch of the callouses—he’d gained from the morning activities—ran over the shaft in sure strokes.
He could smell Rick’s scent clinging to his clothes, and in his mind’s eye were all those tempting muscles and how strong Rick was.
It didn’t take more than four strokes and a flick of his wrist around the head to come in a fast, humiliating gush down the toilet.
It almost sounded like he was taking a piss with how long it went on.
He was grateful that Rick hadn’t followed him because how mortifying would that be to come so fast? He had stamina—or he did have—and now, as he eyed his spent cock catching his breath, he wasn’t so sure.
Ten minutes later, he came out somewhat decent, his shirt untucked to stave off any further embarrassment when the pre-come stain was more than a little evident despite his best efforts.
His cock wasn’t getting with the program either and returned to its aroused state the second he scented Rick, the unrepentant traitor.
Ian released a resigned sigh, knowing the second he closed in on the man lounging against the building, he was back to full mast puppeteer.
Rick’s gorgeous eyes skimmed over him with an intensity that had his cock leaking harder than a broken faucet, no one would believe he’d only come minutes ago.
His gaze lingered on the shirt, his lips stretching into a wide smile that should be outlawed.
Wicked and just a little mischievous, Ian wasn’t sure which way was up.
Rick held his hand out to Ian, and the warmth in the center of his chest came as fast as the arousal. There was something to be said for a mate's connection, that was for damn sure. Ian had felt nothing like it, and he wanted more.
Ian skipped closer, or he would have, had his cock not been misbehaving, he more limped while trying to act like there was nothing to see.
The second their palms touched, the roughness of his skin sliding against Ian’s left him breathless.
Then he muttered next to Ian’s ear, “Wanna see me ride a bull?” before he nipped at his earlobe, sending a current of desire through him and out the slit of his cock, drenching his newly dried jeans.
He moaned in complaint and desire, responding, “You did that on purpose.”
Those teasing lips never moved away. “I can smell your come, so a little payback is only to be expected when you didn’t ask me to help,” he growled playfully, once more nipping at his ear.
The sound of boots on dirt made Ian shift an inch away, because that was all he could manage. His mate was just too irresistible. “Bull riding,” he warbled, blushing, “you mentioned bull riding.”
I’d like to be naked bear-back riding. I know that.
Rick’s laughter was a deep belly one as he tugged Ian with him, and they headed to an area they hadn’t been to yet.
Knowing that if he didn’t concentrate on something other than Rick, he’d be back to the idea of an Only fans page for the show he would give everyone.
Just he wasn’t going to share his affections for his mate, no way.
Rick was his—the Fates had deemed it so—so only he got to see all those muscles naked.
Rick tapped a finger on the side of Ian’s skull, the grin back. “Something goin’ on in there, wanna share?”
“No, well, not unless you want me heading back to the restroom again?”
The light in his eyes set a fire that could have burned even scorched earth, and Ian’s breath wheezed out through his gritted teeth, while he tried to keep himself in check.
I’m in public. This is not the place to lose it.
Ian willed himself to listen to reason. He couldn’t wait to tell his two best friends about this struggle, they’d never believe sensible Ian could be reckless.
“There you are, Rick,” Charlie called ill-timed or perfectly timed, Ian could not decide.
“You’re up first. You wanna come meet the monster?
” This, it seemed was aimed at Ian, and he nodded automatically, though the idea of seeing something he called ‘monster’, that didn’t sound all that appealing when Rick was going to sit on it.
What if he broke his mate or worse killed him when they hadn’t even claimed each other?
Ian was a worrier, it was in his nature; he was a risk assessor. Had a very profitable business because he could determine levels of risk more easily than most.
He’d always prided himself on this, until right then, with Rick tugging him along behind him as they headed to a penned area that had a large ring behind it.
There were a lot more men milling around, and Ian could see the group he was with excitedly leaning against the wooden fences, vying for the best position to watch Rick.
“A-are you s-sure this is s-safe?” he stuttered, dry-mouthed when they came to a stop, and he could hear an animal grunting and pawing madly at the ground.
“I’ve done this many times, could end up with a few bruises and a bruised ego if he has me off before I can get seated properly.
” Rick winked, bringing their joined hands to his lips and kissing his knuckles, giving them a squeeze before releasing them.
Only Ian didn’t let go. “You worried ‘bout me?”
Ian nodded, he was fucking terrified, and it warred with the arousal, because he was a sadist and a part of him thought it would be hot as fuck to see Rick control such an enormous beast. He was doomed. Doomed, didn’t you know!
Minutes later, after some persuasion, Ian stood at the fence watching Rick mount the back of the bull. He sent up a prayer that his mate didn’t die as the gate opened and Rick and the huge bull jerked madly out of the stall.
Ian didn’t think he breathed as his gaze stayed riveted to man and beast. Rick moved with a fluidity that belied the aggression from the bull desperate to toss him off, yet he held on to the strap, rising and dipping in an animalistic dance that left Ian mesmerized.
His jeans were a total lost cause when his cock busted through the seam of the zipper with a loud tearing sound, right as Rick managed to swing his body sideways and leap off the bull unscathed.
Mother of all that is holy, that is my fucking mate!