Chapter Four
Noah lay nestled against Quinton’s chest, a grin tugging at his lips. But as the warmth of the moment gave way to the sharp edge of reality, the smile slowly faded.
The steady thrum of Quinton’s heartbeat, soft and rhythmic beneath his ear, was the only thing anchoring him, keeping the rising tide of panic at bay.
But even the soothing cadence couldn’t drown out thoughts of Toro.
How could he savor the sweetness of the moment when a deranged vampire was after him?
For once, Noah hadn’t run from intimacy—though it wasn’t for a lack of trying. He’d walked out of the diner, intent on escape, only to find Quinton at his heels, a steadfast figure refusing to let him slip away. He’d come so close to leaving, his hand poised on the car door, when something inside of him had screamed to stop, to turn around, to go back inside.
Whatever this was with Quinton felt unique, wild and unfamiliar, but real. Special. A spark that promised to illuminate a path he had never dared to tread before.
Even now, he was astounded by his own courage in inviting Quinton over, even though he’d almost sabotaged it by trying to ditch him at the red light.
Noah never denied being a hot mess, haunted by decisions that had led him into the nightmare with Toro.
Yet, amidst the turmoil, there was a silver lining—Quinton. The behemoth had swept him off his feet, giving him the most incredible, and only, blowjob he’d ever had, leaving Noah breathless and yearning for more. In a world filled with shadows, Quinton shone like a beacon, reminding Noah that even amidst chaos, there could be moments of sheer bliss.
Noah was embarrassed by his lack of stamina and his first attempt at giving a blowjob. He wondered if Quinton had actually enjoyed it, or if he was just trying to make Noah feel better. The guy had only gotten off when he’d taken matters into his own hand, literally.
Noah slid his palm over Quinton’s stomach, noticing how rock-hard his abs were. Then he glanced at the guy, making sure Quinton was asleep before Noah lifted his head and stared down at his groin.
His manscape was impressive. The hairs were short and well-groomed. Now he wondered if Quinton kept things tidy or if he had it professionally done.
Did such a service even exist?
Lowering his gaze, he stared at Quinton’s cock. Even soft it was impressive. Then again, the guy was nearly seven feet. It would have been a crying shame, tragic even, if a man his size had been cursed with a small package.
No wonder Noah’s jaw was sore.
And why he’d gagged.
Biting his bottom lip, Noah glanced up to make sure Quinton was still asleep.
Yep, he was out cold.
With his heart racing, Noah slid his finger along the length. The skin was soft and somewhat wrinkled. He glided the pad of his finger over the head, dots of cum still clinging to the slit then stuck the digit in his mouth.
Then grimaced. Tasting cum while sucking cock was different than sampling it… His eyebrows flew up as he watched Quinton’s prick slowly harden.
It was the craziest thing to watch. Noah had seen his own hard cock plenty of times, but to see someone else’s fill in was sort of fascinating.
“See what you do when you fondle me in my sleep?”
Busted.
He glanced up to see Quinton staring heavy-lidded at him.
“You’ve awakened the beast.”
There was humor in his voice, but the man wasn’t lying. His cock, when erect, could be called a beast. It could’ve been called a lot of things, as silly, stupid pet names for his cock had come to mind.
“But first”—Quinton tucked his fingers under Noah’s chin, turning his head to stare into steel-gray eyes—“we need to finish our conversation.”
Ah, yes. The one about why Noah felt so attracted to the guy. Quinton could add an attribute to the reason for his attraction, and that reason rested between the man’s legs.
Putting his troubles from his mind, Noah relaxed his chin on his folded hands, which rested on Quinton’s broad chest. “I’m listening.”
But his mind was elsewhere.
Namely between Quinton’s legs.
Noah, like any other guy, had watched some porn. But he’d watched it for educational purposes, as well as for obvious reasons.
One particular video had gotten permanently stuck in his head. The one where the men were similar in size to him and Quinton.
The “Quinton”
actor had been hung. Swear, the guy had to have been a descendant of a sperm whale. Watching the “Quinton”
guy penetrate the “Noah” guy, the real Noah had at once lost his erection.
Now that he thought about it, maybe that was why he had always run for the hills.
And now he was draped across the “real”
Quinton, their pants and underwear halfway down their legs, cocks hanging out—one soft, the other vying for Noah’s attention—while Quinton wanted to talk.
Only in Noah’s life could a guy have him naked but not want to fuck.
“Either you know about my world, or you just completely zoned out on me.”
Quinton knocked gently on Noah’s forehead like it was a door. “Did you hear what I just said?”
Noah hadn’t heard a word.
“Sorry. A particularly scary memory popped into my head.”
Noah smiled apologetically at him.
“Want to tell me about it?”
Quinton sounded sincere, his gray eyes growing soft. That tender expression wasn’t enough for Noah to share the porn story. He’d already humiliated himself once tonight by turning into every guy’s worst scenario.
A five-second man.
“Could you repeat what you said? I promise to listen this time.”
Noah stared into those gray beauties. “My complete focus is on you.”
A knowing, shit-eating grin curved Quinton’s sensual mouth. “You were thinking about my cock.”
In a way. “Are you so sure it was your prick I—”
Noah cut off the rest of what he was going to say.
One, it dawned on him that maybe what he was about to say was completely inappropriate. Talking about one guy’s prick in front of another while clothes were halfway shed was in poor taste.
Two, the storm brewing in Quinton’s eyes was evidence Noah needed to clean up that unfinished sentence.
“Was totally thinking about your cock.”
Noah patted Quinton’s chest like he was making nice with a wild animal. “Now, what did you say?”
Noah couldn’t explain why, but something deep inside assured him that Quinton, no matter how angry he seemed, would never hurt him.
Quinton pointed a finger between them. “Are you sure you’re with me? Do I have your attention?”
“Yes.”
With a playful grin, Noah slapped his chest, mostly because he liked the way it felt beneath his hand.
With a single nod, Quinton said, “I’m a bear shifter.”
Noah tilted his head, a smirk creeping up. “Polar, black, or grizzly?”
Quinton let out a low grunt. “You think I’m joking. You don’t believe me.”
“No, I believe you. So which one?”
“Grizzly?”
He stared at Noah as if he didn’t trust his reaction. “Care to tell me how you know?”
“About your existence?”
Noah scoffed. “My crappy-ass stepdad. He’s a wolf shifter, and a lousy one at that.”
He had been the first person Noah had gone to about his Toro problem, and Jack’s advice had been for Noah to make sure his will was up to date.
That had only been the latest in a long line of useless advice he’d given Noah and Layne over the years.
“Lousy?”
That seemed to confused the hell out of Quinton.
“Yes. Lousy and lazy. Guy marries my mom, doesn’t do anything around the house. That’s a woman’s job.”
Noah plucked at some lint on Quinton’s shirt, thinking of all the ways his stepdad was a loser. Not that he wanted to denigrate the guy, but he wanted to paint a picture of the shifters he’d been around for the past seven years.
“Jack has his buddies over at least twice a week, each one trying to prove who’s the toughest by either flexing or simply trash-talking the others. He gives the worst advice. And whenever I stop by, the bastard ruffles my hair, gives me five bucks, and tells me not to spend it all in one place. Nothing costs five dollars anymore!”
Jack’s toxic masculinity was one of the reasons Noah hadn’t come out to his family. The only people who knew were his brother and best friend.
Quinton was still looking at him skeptically.
“Don’t believe me? Go see what you can buy with five bucks,”
Noah scoffed.
“Is your mom Jack’s mate?”
Quinton asked, fighting a smile.
“I heard him use that word once or twice,”
Noah admitted, now tracing the letters on Quinton’s T-shirt that spelled out Givenchy. “But soulmates? My mom and Jack? Hard to imagine.”
Noah’s finger stalled on the letter N as his thoughts began to piece together. His overwhelming attraction to Quinton. His inability to get into his car at the diner and drive away. Inviting the guy home when he’d never done anything like that before.
When he looked up, Quinton was just watching him, like he was waiting for Noah to connect the dots.
“Yes,”
Quinton said softly, answering the unspoken question. “We’re mates.”
Noah’s breath caught. He knew what that meant, in a sense, but didn’t know the intricacies involved though. Jack as definitely a dick, though Noah envied the way the guy treated Noah’s mom, and the way Jack looked at her was something special. The love that shined in his eyes was enough to take anyone’s breath away.
Despite his mom and Jack being nothing alike, there was no denying how he felt about her, which demolished Noah’s earlier thought of finding it hard to believe they were soulmates. It made him wonder what having that kind of connection with someone would feel like.
Noah tried to get up, but he was stuffed between Quinton’s solid frame and the couch, making it almost impossible to move. When he finally managed to pull himself free—Quinton was no help—Noah had come close to face-planting on the floor, his legs tangled in his clothes still halfway down his legs.
“Whoa!”
Strong hands caught him before he smashed his face on the carpet. Quinton eased him back, his grip gentle for such a large guy.
Now on his back, lying over Quinton—and his exposed cock—Noah lifted his hips to pull his clothes back up his legs, but his underwear had somehow twisted inside his pants.
The mountain under him began to tremble with a deep, semi-suppressed chuckle.
Noah tilted his head up and to the side to glare at Quinton. The guy didn’t even have the decency to look repentant.
“Need help?”
Quinton smirked.
More than you know . Noah was trying to get away so he could have a moment alone to think, but his jeans and underwear were conspiring against him.
“ I’ve been dressing myself since I was a toddler. I got this.”
Yet, when he tried to lift his leg, his jeans wouldn’t budge.
Giving up, Noah rolled off the couch with a thud.
“Jesus!”
Quinton’s voice boomed as Noah hit the floor, whacking his elbow sharply.
“Ow!”
he hissed, grabbing his arm, and then noticed his bare ass was wet, as was the left side of his face. The smell of coffee and damp carpet filled his nose.
Quinton straightened up his own clothes effortlessly then pulled Noah back onto the cushions.
“Why would you throw yourself off the couch?”
His large, beefy hands patted Noah’s head, presumably to check for lumps or bumps, his fingers skimming tenderly through Noah’s hair.
“I didn’t hit my head.”
Noah jerked sideways, crossing his arms over his groin to hide his cock, which was getting hard from Quinton’s touch. “I cracked my elbow. And I didn’t throw myself off the couch. I rolled.”
The cushion he was sitting on absorbed the wetness from the coffee, but his face still felt moist. Noah needed to clean up the damp spots under the rug before it caused damage to the wooden floor underneath.
He just wasn’t getting up with a half-hard cock, especially when Quinton stood, now towering over him. The guy would be able to see how aroused Noah had become.
“Can you grab the hand towel from the kitchen so I can clean up the spills?”
As soon as Quinton walked away, Noah stood, struggling to straighten out his clothes and pull them up.
He paused when he heard a smacking noise and Quinton curse. The kitchen really was too small, but for the price of rent, Noah had dealt with it.
When Quinton returned, Noah had only managed to untangle the underwear, his cock still exposed. He felt the man’s heavy gaze on him as Noah finally slid them up his legs, followed by his jeans.
“I couldn’t find a hand towel.”
Quinton’s voice had grown deeper than it already was, a bit of an edge to it.
“Crap. It’s in the laundry basket. I’ll go get it.”
“You only have one hand towel?”
Quinton asked.
Noah headed to his bedroom where the laundry basket was located. With so little space to work with, Noah had to get creative on where he stored things.
“Yep. And only two bath towels. I’m a minimalist.”
Not by choice. Noah could have continued to live with his mom and Jack, but for sanity’s sake, he’d found a dirt-cheap apartment to get away from the macho wolf and his friends.
Great. Quinton followed him to his bedroom. There was only a twin-sized bed, a tall dresser with four drawers, and a closet that barely classified as one. Looking at his room through Quinton’s eyes, Noah felt the drabness of his apartment.
He grabbed the towel out of the hamper next to his dresser and headed back to the living room. Quinton didn’t follow him. Noah lowered to his knees and pressed the towel into the rug, soaking up as much coffee as he could.
It was happening again. That need to run away. Only this time it wasn’t because of intimacy. It went much deeper than that. Noah knew very little about this mate thing. He’d never been interested enough to have a full-blown conversation with Jack. And although he and his mom were close, she wasn’t the type of person who gushed about her feelings, especially to one of her sons.
But the small bits and pieces he’d picked up here and there, mating was for life.
There was no running from this.
Quinton squatted next to him and took the towel from Noah’s hands. He flashed Quinton a tired smile. “You gonna sop up our mess?”
That wasn’t what the guy had in mind. Quinton held him in a tight embrace, and Noah hadn’t even realized how much he needed the hug until he was wrapped in Quinton’s strong arms. He melted into the warmth, feeling the weight of the moment settle over them.
Quinton kissed his forehead, and for the first time in a long time, Noah let himself feel safe.