Chapter Seven
“Are you okay?”
Quinton rubbed his hand down Noah’s back, searching the man’s eyes. He’d been terrified of leaving his mate unprotected, even though Killian and Ryker had been with Noah.
What if another attack had taken place while Quinton was healing? He was still shaking inside from the fact Noah had nearly been kidnapped earlier. It had been so close, and if it hadn’t been for his sons…
“You’re the one who collapsed out of blood loss and you’re asking if I’m okay?”
Noah placed his palm against Quinton’s chest, helping to calm the turmoil inside of him.
Although Quinton wanted to circle back to his earlier question of how much Noah owed the loan sharks, he didn’t want to ruin the intimate moment they were sharing.
“After what happened, yes, I’m asking if you’re okay.”
He rested his hand on Noah’s hip, his bear snarling softly, frustrated that Quinton wasn’t sealing their bond.
“I had my own personal bodyguards. Plus, you were busy playing superhero.”
Tension entered Noah’s pretty green eyes, causing Quinton to wonder what his mate was really thinking.
“Let me rephrase my question. How are you feeling?”
Quinton slid his hand around Noah’s waist and tugged him even closer. What his mate had to say was important, but until Quinton claimed him, sex would be at the forefront of his mind.
Noah had to feel Quinton’s hard cock between them, and all Quinton could think about was the blowjob his mate had given him. Noah might have been inexperienced, but something about the innocence of his mate’s touch and his willingness to please was so arousing.
Which made him wonder if Noah was inexperienced in other aspects of intimacy.
“I…”
The hand against Quinton’s chest trembled as a deep blush swept across Noah’s face and ears. “Very hot right now. You’re like a furnace.”
“Maybe you could cool off by removing some of your clothes.”
Quinton ran his thumb over beautifully shaped lips, full enough to tempt and too soft to resist. Cupping the back of Noah’s head, he took possession of his mate’s mouth, groaning at how good he tasted. He turned them until he had Noah on his back and Quinton was lying half over him.
This is more like it .
Noah stiffened but soon relaxed, his fingers flexing against Quinton’s chest. The kiss was sweeter than he remembered, but now Noah’s lips were pressing hungrily against his.
Inwardly, Quinton smiled. His mate was getting used to kissing and touching him, and it thrilled him that Noah was becoming more comfortable with him. He wanted his mate to trust him, for Noah to know he could let his guard down around Quinton.
Noah slid his hands up, his fingers scraping along Quinton’s closely shaven beard.
Quinton started panting heavily, his cock so hard it ached. With a low growl, he took Noah’s wrist in a loose hold and guided his mate’s hand to his erection. “Touch me, beautiful. Curl your fingers around my cock.”
Noah’s touch was hesitant as he gently squeezed. Quinton let out a hard groan as the fire in his gut threatened to spread. Leaning forward, he inhaled Noah’s scent, burying his face in his mate’s neck, just breathing him in.
For the first time since… Fuck, Quinton wasn’t sure, but he was about to come from nothing more than slight pressure on his cock. He didn’t want to. Not yet. Noah’s hand hadn’t been on him nearly long enough. He couldn’t even tell his mate to ease up on the pressure because there was barely any to begin with.
Noah’s slight grip tugged up and down Quinton’s erection at an almost timid pace, as if he was unsure what he should do with someone else’s cock in his hand. Quinton teetered somewhere between languid enjoyment and desperate to get off.
He ghosted his mouth over Noah’s lips, coaxing a response out of his mate with long strokes of his tongue. Certain Noah no longer needed guidance, Quinton removed his hand and slid it down the back of his mate’s jeans, tracing the cleft of Noah’s ass with his finger.
Grip tightening, Noah groaned into his mouth, threatening to send Quinton over the edge as he traced Noah’s puckered hole in lazy circles.
“I want to fuck you so badly.”
Quinton’s heart spiked. Just the thought of sinking into his mate’s tight heat had him closer to the edge, the buildup squeezing his balls.
If Quinton thought he would have enough time, he’d carry Noah to his bed and screw the man’s brains out. Quinton was drunk on sex, pulsing so hard he felt like he would explode in the next two seconds, unable to stop his body from fucking his mate’s fist.
It felt too damn good.
Noah’s finger slid over the veiny cock, his movements more assured. His mate pulled on Quinton’s tongue with his lips, moaning softly into his mouth.
The pressure on his erection grew tighter. He fucked Noah’s fist with quick thrusts then tore his mouth away and looked down, watching Noah jack his cock.
The small room filled with heavy breathing. This was not what Quinton had planned when he inquired about Noah’s feelings. He’d wanted to make sure his mate’s head was on straight, sort of like a mental-health checkup after the shitstorm that morning.
If there were issues, he would’ve tried to help Noah through whatever was bouncing around in his mate’s head.
Granted, Quinton had initiated this hot and heavy petting, but it wasn’t just the claiming that had him feeling so desperate and needy. It was also to strengthen their connection, to purge the fear inside of himself, the fear that spiked when Noah had almost been taken from him.
To ground their relationship and bring them closer.
And maybe this was Noah’s way of coping. Whatever his mate needed, Quinton would provide it.
His breath caught when Noah began to move down Quinton’s body, placing light kisses over his skin, a tender touch of lips, Noah’s hands petting him as his mate moved lower and lower.
It was a crash course in concentrated effort not to come as Noah’s lips trailed down his chest and abs. Quinton gripped the base of his erection to stop it from spurting out his release.
When Noah reached the head of Quinton’s cock, his mate stared up at him with uncertainty in his green eyes.
“Whatever you do is going to feel good,”
he reassured Noah, his voice low and rough. “You already have me on the verge of coming. I’m strangling my dick like a son of a bitch to stop it from happening too soon.”
He slid the head under Noah’s chin. “See what you do to me?”
The guy smirked, as if that was what he’d needed to hear. Quinton continued to hold the base, captivated as Noah parted his lips and licked his way around the head, lapping up the pre-cum with every stroke of his tongue.
Oh, fuuck .
Quinton lost the ability to think, that darting tongue wiping his mind clean, leaving behind nothing but raw need.
His cock throbbed heavily, pulsing in his fist as Noah sank his mouth down the length. He fucked his mate’s mouth gently, tenderly, running his fingers through his soft, silky hair. “So good, baby. So goddamn good.”
That need to bust a nut intensified. His mate’s hot, eager mouth made him tremble so badly that it shredded his senses and ripped the breath from his lungs.
His cock stretched Noah’s lips, and it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Quinton slowly pushed on his mate’s head, making it bob up and down, making those gorgeous lips ride his hard shaft.
It was the most incredible feeling in the world. Quinton propped one leg up, planting his foot on the floor, giving his mate more room to drive him insane.
Which was exactly what Noah did. Quinton stroked his cock faster and harder. Fuck, shit. He kept his hand on the back of Noah’s head so his cock stayed wedged in his mate’s tight, greedy mouth.
“I’m about to come,”
he growled, gritting his teeth as Noah started sucking harder, that wicked mouth so goddamn amazing. Then he exploded, hot jets of spunk pulsed inside Noah’s incredible mouth.
A hard grunt was pulled out of Quinton as he convulsed. “Eat my cum, baby.”
Best. Orgasm. Ever.
Quinton gently pulled Noah off of his cock when his mate continued sucking him off. “Sensitive,”
he said with a hiss.
Noah looked up at him, licking his lips and wearing a proud smile.
With a soft chuckle, Quinton pulled his mate back up his body and reached for Noah’s zipper, but his hand stilled when someone rapped their knuckles on the door like the wood was a set of drums.
Noah jumped up like it was his parents returning home. Quinton rolled to his back and threw his arm over his eyes. “Whoever said kids enrich your life had to be on drugs.”
The apartment was too small to take Noah into the bedroom to give him head. Quinton’s mouth watered to suck Noah off, but damn if he was allowing his sons to hear his mate’s sex noises.
Those were reserved only for him.
Noah ran into the bedroom like his sexy ass had caught on fire, returning a second later with a rumpled sheet. “Since none of my clothes will fit you, this is the best I can do.”
Instead of taking the sheet, Quinton gripped Noah’s chin tenderly then waited until his mate looked at him. “Take a deep breath, hon. You look too wound up.”
He placed a soft kiss on Noah’s lips. “I could’ve gotten rid of that frantic energy for you if they’d taken ten more minutes.”
Noah inhaled deeply through his nose then let it out slowly through his mouth. He did it a few more times, causing Quinton to worry he would make himself pass out.
“I’m cool,”
Noah said in a calm, serene tone. “Does my breath smell like semen?”
Quinton grinned so wide his damn cheeks hurt. “Let me check.”
He kissed Noah again, this time more deeply. When he pulled away, his mate had a dreamy-eyed stare. “Smells amazing to me.”
It smelled just like his seed, and he loved it.
The knock started again. “Room service. I’ve got a 5-star feast here. And I only dropped it twice,”
Killian called out.
With a snarl, Quinton stalked to the door and yanked it open.
Killian moved past him, half a dozen large, plastic bags in his hands. The Styrofoam containers were stacked all the way to the handles. The guy stumbled—over what, Quinton had no idea—causing him to lose his grip on one of the bags. It fell toward the floor, but Killian jerked his foot up, smacked the runaway bag with the side of his foot, then hooked his pinky around one of the handles.
“Who knew feeding a bunch of starving bears was an Olympic sport?”
Killian grinned as Ryker walked in with even more bags and booty-bumped the door closed behind him.
The scent of delicious food made Quinton’s stomach rumble fiercely. That happened after healing in his animal form. He always woke up starving.
Arching a brow, Quinton scowled at Killian.
Ryker rolled his eyes, as if unimpressed. “Nice save, bro. I hope your hands are that quick in more important situations.”
Killian snorted. “You wish your hands were this quick.”
“I bet your dates wish they weren’t,”
Ryker retorted with a smirk.
Noah stifled a laugh, causing Quinton’s features to soften into a warm smile.
With Killian’s smooth recovery and hearing his mate’s quiet amusement, Quinton appreciated the light moment amid the tension in their lives.
“Um…”
Ryker looked around. “Since your kitchen is too small, I guess we can park our butts on the rug and eat.”
Quinton and Noah helped them with the bags, allowing Ryker to set aside the drink carrier. Killian went to work stacking the containers according to the orders. There wasn’t any room to lay them out side-by-side.
“What’s the other bag for?”
Noah threw open his lid and grabbed a fry. “Don’t tell me that’s a second round for you.”
Killian winked at Noah. “I’m a big boy.”
An involuntary snarl rolled through Quinton’s chest. His bear was being possessive and territorial since Noah was unclaimed. Plus, it was pissed Killian and Ryker had interrupted them.
Killian picked up his containers and moved to the other side of Ryker, putting more distance—if that was possible in such a small room—between him and Quinton. “I’d move farther away from Noah, but there is no farther in this room,”
Killian said.
With the three of them in the living room, the space felt cramped. Although Noah was significantly smaller, Quinton still didn’t see how his mate hadn't gone crazy over the lack of square footage.
When Quinton sat, his knee bumped one of Ryker’s containers, nearly causing an avalanche.
“It’s all I can afford.”
Noah munched on another fry, speaking matter-of-factly, as if he wasn’t offended by their remarks. “I couldn’t live another minute under the same roof as Jack. Since him and his buddies were the only shifters I know, I was under the impression all shifters were like him.”
“You have your dipshits in every species,”
Killian said while grabbing one of his containers off his stack and flipping the lid open.
Ryker scowled. “None more than fairies. They think since—”
He glanced at Noah with a grimace. “Tell me you knew fairies existed.”
Noah held his burger with two hands, his mouth slightly open, but had frozen. “Fairies?”
Quinton gently bumped his mate’s arm with his. He couldn’t get pissed at Ryker since he’d screwed up a few times himself. “Our good friends live here in Midnight Falls. The Frosts. All three of Kalen’s sons are mated to fairies, though they preferred to be called fae. I can introduce you to them if you’d like.”
“One of them is a 4,000-year-old warrior,”
Killian interjected. “Big guy, like us. His mate just gave birth to a cute little girl a few months ago.”
“His mate’s a guy.”
Ryker grinned. “Let your brain stew on that one for a while.”
“You’re messing with me.”
Noah took a sip of his tea. “Guys can make babies, but they can’t give birth to them.”
Picking up one of Noah’s fries, Quinton fed it to his mate. Noah’s face flamed with heat, but he opened and accepted the fry. “Things work differently in our world,”
he said to his mate, pleased at the fact Noah was taking all this information in stride. “We have the Ultionem . They’re powerful leaders from every species. When Damon was cursed into a deep sleep by an ancient vampire, the leaders had to combine their blood as they used some spell to pull him out of it.”
“Whether you’re male or female, if you’re a descendent of Prince Christian, or are infused with his blood, you can become pregnant,”
Ryker added. “Either way works.”
Quinton remembered Kalen calling him after all of that had gone down. They’d talked on the phone for five hours while his friend basically used Quinton as his therapist, which he didn’t mind.
When it came to the Frosts, he would go above and beyond for them, just as the wolves had done for Quinton and his family.
As they enjoyed Roman’s cooking, they entertained Noah with stories of the insane things they’d been through, a lot of them hilarious now that enough time had passed to be considered funny.
“Did you just say demon?”
Noah stared wide-eyed at Ryker, his nearly eaten burger gripped in one hand. The fries had disappeared ten minutes into the stories.
“Never hauled ass so fast in my life.”
Ryker chuckled. “Too bad the demon realm doesn’t have transportation. I could have gotten away from him a lot quicker. But thankfully I was near the Black Lake so I could dive in and get my ass home before that demon could turn me into fried bear.”
“Yes, demon.”
Quinton reached over and gently tapped his mate’s chin. “Close your mouth before you catch flies.”
Noah pointed a finger at Ryker, started to say something, but lowered his hand. “I’m going to put that information in a box, set it on the shelf next to the ‘stepdad’ thing, and examine it in about ten years.”
“Too bad,”
Killian said. “I have a ton of stories about them, rabbit.”
Noah stiffened. Ryker groaned. Killian sighed and tossed his corned beef sandwich into the container.
Quinton’s gaze flicked between all three of their guilty faces. His sons knew he didn’t like secrets kept from him. But before he could demand to know what was going on, a knock sounded on the door.
They were on their feet in seconds, standing shoulder-to-shoulder as a barrier while Noah stood behind Quinton.
After that knock this morning that had resulted in pure mayhem, none of them were taking any chances.
Ryker leaned forward and cracked the door open, a growl rumbling low in his throat.
On the other side stood an elderly woman in a lime-green track suit, her pale blue eyes widening behind her thick glasses. In her hand was a plastic storage container.
“Oh my.”
She looked between the three of them. “I came by to drop these off to Noah.”
She held up the container, and then her gaze slid over Quinton suggestively, lingering on the sheet around his waist. “Aren’t you a strapping man.”
He heard his mate snicker behind him.
Killian gently eased the container out of her frail hands. “We’ll make sure he gets these, ma’am.”
She fluffed her white hair and winked at Killian. “I see your father knows how to produce some big sixes. I’m right down the hall.”
She batted her white eyelashes at him. “If you need help being with a cougar, I have some hooch and jive.”
She turned but looked over her shoulder, eyeing all three of them. “The bank will always be open for you fellas.”
Killian just stood there gripping the container against his chest, as if she’d short-circuited his brain.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Quinton nodded politely.
She blew him a kiss then walked away before he had a chance to close the door. He now felt the same as Killian. It was like getting hit on by someone from the Jurassic period.
Noah poked him in his sheet-covered butt. “Thanks for protecting me from my ninety-year-old neighbor.”
“Hey, you never know,”
Quinton replied, finally snapping out of his shock. “Those old-timers can be tricky. I might have just saved you from an intense round of bingo…or worse, a lecture on the ‘good ol’ days.’”
“Did any of you understand what she said?”
Noah snatched the container from Killian then popped the lid, the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies instantly filling the air.
Quinton absentmindedly grabbed a cookie from the container, refusing to translate, and Killian’s brain still looked stuck.
Ryker suddenly burst out laughing. He turned and grabbed a cookie. “She said my dad knows how to produce some strong men. If we needed help with a cougar, she has booze and weed.”
“And the bank?”
Noah shoved a cookie into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groaned.
If his mate kept making those noises, the sheet was going to turn into a tent.
“She’s up for kissing or making out,”
Ryker provided.
Noah grimaced. “I’ve never seen her flirt before. She’s not a cougar, she’s a tiger, though I don’t know why the term tiger would be used for someone in their nineties.”
He ate another cookie.
“Because they eat their prey.”
Quinton grabbed another one, too. They really were delicious.
“I think the word you’re looking for is nonagenarian.”
Killian shivered. “Her cataracts eye-banged me. I feel so filthy.”
“Apartment 215.”
Noah licked the chocolate off of his fingers as he eyed the rest of the cookies. “She’s got hooch and jive, big six. Go make a deposit in her bank.”
Ryker and Noah fist-bumped.
Killian snatched a handful of the cookies and tossed one into his mouth, still watching the door as if he were afraid she’d return.
Quinton grabbed the container and pulled it out of Noah’s hands.
“Hey, give that back.”
Noah scowled.
After eating two of them, Quinton eyed his mate and said, “No more cookies for any of you until you guys tell me what you’re hiding from me.”
* * * *
Harris paced his living room, mumbling, “Come on, pick up.”
Calling Layne wasn’t something he wanted to do. Harris felt like he was betraying Noah, but he wasn’t going to sit back and watch his best friend ruin his life.
And since when did Midnight Falls have biker gangs? That was news to Harris. Sure, a lot of residents drove motorcycles, but the men who’d shown up at his house were wearing leathers and looked as if they would have fit right in on Sons of Anarchy .
It was just a television show, but that was the only reference Harris could think of.
“Hello?”
Layne said when he finally picked up.
“Why did it take you so long to answer?”
Harris demanded in a panic.
“Dude, I’m at work. The only reason I answered is because my boss kept giving me dirty looks.”
“I think Noah has lost his mind,”
Harris continued, ignoring Layne’s comment. “He showed up at my house in a panic, saying he’d gotten mixed up with some dangerous men, and then a gang of bikers whisked him away to destinations unknown.”
“Are you talking about my little brother?”
Layne sounded confused.
“No, I’m referring to the Noah who built that big boat and turned it into a zoo,”
Harris snarled. “Of course I’m talking about your brother and my bestie. Jesus. When we told him to get laid, I didn’t think he’d find a biker gang to deflower him!”
“Our meek little Noah? The same guy who’s clung to his virginity for twenty-five years? The same guy who ducks into the closest business when he sees ‘scary’ teenagers walking toward him?”
“The same guy who can’t watch horror movies because they freak him out for a good month. Yes, that Noah!”
Harris shouted. “Stop making me clarify who I’m referring to and get your ass over to my house. We need to track him down, kidnap him, then deprogram him before it’s too late!”
Harris rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead, wondering where he’d gone wrong with Noah. He’d just seen the guy last night at the bar. Something had to have happened after he and Layne took off.
The scary biker who’d approached Harris’s porch had said someone had suffered blood loss. Noah had crawled out of a window to get away. Why hadn’t Noah let him call the cops?
“I already told you I’m at work,”
Layne whispered loudly. “I’ll be over as soon as I get off.”
“When is that?”
Harris stopped pacing, wishing his massive headache would go away. They’d been friends for twenty years, and not once in all that time had Noah done anything dangerous or illegal.
The guy even refused to jaywalk for fear of getting a ticket and being labeled a criminal.
“In two hours,”
Layne replied. “Are you sure Noah is involved in a biker gang?”
Harris gritted his teeth. “I was standing right there on the porch the entire time.”
“Then why didn’t you stop him?”
Layne sounded pissed. Sure, the guy finally believed him and now wanted to blame him.
“Maybe because there were five of them and were built like the Hulk,”
Harris shot back. “Do I look like I can take down one Hulk, let alone five of them?”
Sometimes Layne completely baffled him. Harris had said biker gang, right? How on earth did Layne expect him to stop Noah from leaving with them? By giving them a stern lecture?
“Jeez,”
Layne groaned. “Okay, I’ll be over after work, and then we’ll figure out what to do.”
That would give Harris two hours to work himself into an even worse tizzy. “Come straight here. There’s no telling what kind of brainwashing they’re doing to him.”
“Just do me a favor,”
Layne said.
“What?”
Harris glanced out of the window for the millionth time, like Noah would pull into his driveway and tell him this was all a prank.
“Don’t call the National Guard.”
Layne hung up.
“Like I have the power to do that, jackass,”
Harris growled even though Layne couldn’t hear him.
Why had Noah waited until now to have a rebellious streak? Wasn’t that supposed to happen during the teenage years?
Harris was deep in thought when someone knocked on his door. Maybe it was Noah coming to his senses.
Crossing the room, Harris opened the front door. A good-looking stranger with striking blue eyes and hair the color of sandy beaches stood there wearing a gorgeous smile, hands tucked behind his back.
He reminded Harris of a surfer, the kind who wore coral necklaces and always had a surfboard tucked under an arm.
“Can I help you?”
The guy’s smile turned into a smirk, pulling his right arm from behind his back. He aimed a gun at Harris.
“Come quietly with me or your friend dies.”
Noah! “What have you done with him!”
Harris demanded, his heart beating like crazy.
The stranger pulled out his phone with his free hand. “Your friend is currently with mine. If you make me repeat myself, I’ll send a text to kill Noah.”
Harris had no idea what his best friend was wrapped up in, but it had just landed on his doorstep.
Again.