5. Curiosity Does Not Kill The Jag

5

CURIOSITY DOES NOT KILL THE JAG

Jag hadn’t meant to do it, at first.

He’d just finished reading a crime thriller and was browsing an online bookstore for more, when he happened to look out of his living room window.

The lights were on next door. They barely lit the curtains from within, and Jag had the fleeting thought—was Niall reading, too?

Niall had certainly seemed fond of those books he’d almost thrown away.

What was that book, again? Alpha Billionaire’s Big Knot? By Lane Hardcocks?

Jag did a search on his phone and took a while to sift through the results—because he’d remembered the title and author name wrong.

In the end, he managed to land on Llain Hardcox’s author page.

Hardcox had written a lot of books. Seventeen of them, to be specific. All of them seemed to be romance novels featuring a big, strong alpha and a smaller, weaker omega.

The more Jag thought about it, the surer he grew that Niall had read all of these books. Niall liked them, enough that he’d bought paperbacks of three books he’d already read, just to have them on hand.

If these books were erotic in nature, and if they made Niall wet the way Jag had gotten him wet earlier...

It would be in Jag’s best interests to see exactly what kind of sex Niall enjoyed reading about.

He had The Lumberjack’s Knotted Wood in his shopping cart, then on his reading app, in a few taps of his phone.

This would be his bedtime reading. He’d read for a couple of hours, and continue it over breakfast if he enjoyed it enough.

Four hours later, Jag was naked in bed, his phone illuminated by his reading lamp, his cock fisted in his other hand.

Hardcox was a fucking tease.

The lumberjack alpha had been giving his omega tenant plenty to ogle—a bare, sweaty chest, ample biceps, thick thighs. He kept chopping larger and large chunks of wood. The omega, who had rented a room in the lumberjack’s two-bedroom cabin, had been discreetly sniffing at his fresh sweat, licking it off his skin whenever they bumped into each other in the hallway.

The omega was shy. He reminded Jag of Niall, actually. But he was also lonely, and desperate for human contact.

In between writing his next book, the omega left his clothes—and scent—all over the lumberjack’s cabin. And he’d stolen one of the alpha’s used boxer-briefs, shoving his face into its crotch as he jerked off with his other hand.

Jag somehow pictured Niall as that omega. He blamed it on Hardcox’s sparse description of the character; it was only too easy to imagine Niall squirming on his bed, his ass in the air, sucking Jag’s precome-stained underwear into his mouth.

Now, finally, finally, after days of dancing around and secretly jerking off to each other, they were going to fuck.

The omega author had been writing in the cabin’s living room when he went into heat. The lumberjack had taken one step into the cabin, and gone into a rut.

Jag felt every pulse of the alpha’s cock, the way it ached as his body prepared to slide inside his omega. The lumberjack closed the distance between them, pinning the omega against the couch, yanking off his clothes and pushing his legs open to bare his leaking hole. He kissed it and rubbed the length of his cock against it, covering himself in slick. And he held his omega in his arms, sucking on his neck and nipples, over and over until his omega came in his arms, his hole clenching around the lumberjack’s fingertips.

Instead of going straight into fucking like Jag expected—damn it!—the lumberjack teased his omega, as payback for all the times they’d spent tempting each other. He put the omega on all fours, dragging his cock back and forth over his omega’s needy entrance until Jag wanted to roar in frustration.

But then the lumberjack touched his omega. Thoroughly and repeatedly. He rubbed the omega’s nipples and sucked several love bites into his skin; he played with his omega’s foreskin and tugged on it until his omega leaked precome.

You’re worth me taking my time, the lumberjack told his pleading lover. I want you to scream and come on my cock the moment I push in. I want to fuck every single drop of my come into you. Breed you so full. I won’t take my cock out. My knot will stay inside you for hours, and I’ll come inside you again and again until I know I’ve put my child inside you.

Jag came so hard, he couldn’t even breathe.

The damn lumberjack hadn’t even buried his cock inside his omega.

Jag flopped back against his pillows, just breathing. Then he looked at the time and swore. He was going to wake up in such a bad mood because he needed his eight hours of sleep; he wasn’t young anymore.

Before he turned in for the night, he put three more of Hardcox’s books into his shopping cart, and checked them out.

Yeah, Jag could see why Niall wanted a paperback of that book in his home.

He fell asleep anticipating how the rest of that heat scene would play out.

Jag woke up late, his eyelids feeling like sandpaper. For a moment, he couldn’t figure out why he felt like crap.

Then he remembered being edged like hell for four hours, by a fucking book, and he snorted.

He gave himself a pass and slept in for a bit, waiting until his eyes didn’t feel so dried up anymore. Then he got out of bed, dressed, and set off on his usual run.

The route took him out of the neighborhood, winding through the nicer parts of town, Meadowfall College, and downtown Meadowfall. Jag circled back as his head cleared and he grew more awake, his body coming alive now that blood was pumping steadily through him.

He was going to take things easy today, though. The last thing he wanted was to operate power tools on a tired brain.

Closer to home, he made sure to jog up and down every street in the neighborhood to keep an eye on things. The last stop was Niall’s house—just a quick scan to make sure that nothing was amiss.

Then he stepped into his own home, and had his usual shower.

This time, Jag didn’t bother jerking off under the relaxing spray. The lumberjack and his omega would throw his thoughts into the gutter soon enough.

He was toweling his hair dry when he noticed a new message on his phone.

Unidentified number

Hi Jag, this is Niall. Are you OK? I didn’t see you around this morning.

Jag raised an amused eyebrow.

Jag

I had a late night and slept in. I’m flattered that you know my schedule.

No reply came from Niall; Jag thought maybe the omega was embarrassed.

Which begged the question: How did Niall know Jag’s schedule, when he hardly ever showed his face outside his house?

Jag glanced at the pastel blue drapes covering the Ingles’ windows.

Jag

I’m about to make breakfast. Would you like some?

You don’t have to eat it with me. You can eat it at home, with no awkward conversations or pieces of egg flying out of my mouth.

He thought he heard a muffled laugh coming from next door.

Niall

Um, just the scrambled eggs, please. No toast.

Jag

I won’t ask how you know about the toast. (winking emoji) What about coffee?

Niall

Lots of milk and sugar.

Jag

So, coffee that’s lukewarm?

Niall

It’s too hot for hot coffee.

Jag

We’ll agree to disagree. Alright, I hope you’re ready for breakfast in 10 minutes

Niall

Thank you.

Jag put on a clean pair of sweatpants and headed into his kitchen, grinding up some coffee beans.

The kitchen was the first thing he wanted to work on after all the major repairs were complete. He’d done the plumbing and electrical before bringing in the appliance upgrades, and he’d just finished replacing all the doors and windows a few days ago.

Painting would be next, followed by a kitchen remodel—Jag was looking forward to that most. He’d already decided on a new backsplash and countertop, and refinishing the cabinets would come after that.

It definitely helped that he was doing most of the work himself; it was the only way he could justify spending this much of his savings on a house that only one person was living in.

He started the coffee machine and pulled out two mugs, one much larger than the other.

Jag

How much sugar?

Niall

Lots

Jag

I care about your teeth, you know

Niall didn’t reply.

Jag scooped as much sugar as he could stand to give Niall into the larger mug. Then he started on the eggs, beating several into a bowl and adding cream and salt to it.

The scrambled eggs turned out silky and fluffy. He scooped a portion into a leftover container, another portion onto a paper plate, and left the last portion in the still-warm pan. When the coffee was done, he poured it into both mugs, and topped off the larger mug with milk.

His hands were so full, he had to press Niall’s doorbell with his elbow.

Niall took a long time to answer the door. When he did, his shoulders were slumped, and his gaze was missing some of the light that had been there yesterday.

“Is everything all right?” Jag asked in concern.

Niall shrugged. “Things are okay.”

“Where do you want these?”

For a moment, Niall looked as though he wanted to decline the food. He changed his mind and led Jag to the kitchen.

There, Niall hesitated again. When Jag gave him an encouraging smile, Niall carefully pulled his hands out of his hoodie pockets, and shoved aside some bags of cookies to free up some counter space.

Jag set the food down. “I added sugar to your coffee. A lot of it. Well, more than I can stand to drink, anyway. There’s extra scrambled eggs in the container in case you get hungry later.”

“Thanks,” Niall mumbled, looking at the counter. He’s avoiding my eyes, Jag realized.

“Don’t worry about washing the dishes,” Jag said. “Just bring them back when you’re done. I’ll clean them.”

At that, Niall frowned and looked up. “Really?”

“I offered, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but...” Niall’s shoulders sagged further. When Jag stepped back to give him space, Niall used his wrists to transfer the paper plate off the box. His eyebrows jumped when he realized Jag had only sealed two corners of the leftover box.

“I didn’t want you to struggle and get frustrated with my food,” Jag said dryly. “That food should make you happy, not murderous.”

Niall’s mouth finally twitched. “Has food ever made you murderous?”

“Not food, no.”

But other things, yes.

Niall seemed to have caught on to that. He glanced at Jag and back at his food, swallowing.

“I’ll leave you to your breakfast,” Jag said. “No rush on the dishes. Do you need help with anything?”

Niall shook his head, his unreadable gaze sliding over to the coffee mug.

He followed Jag to the door. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Jag shrugged. “Tell me if you like it.”

He left Niall and returned to his own kitchen, turning the stove on briefly to reheat his eggs. While he waited for his toast, he dove back into the lumberjack book.

It was a good thing the toaster had its own timer, because Jag would’ve burned it to a crisp.

He plated his eggs and toast and brought his breakfast to the back porch, barely tasting any of it as the lumberjack hauled his omega to his bedroom and pinned him down on the bed. The moment he pushed his cock inside, the omega came around him, and Jag’s cock throbbed in his pants.

No, he was definitely not picturing Niall under him, writhing as his tight ass sucked Jag down, needing to be painted inside with Jag’s come.

Jag shoveled the rest of his eggs into his mouth and washed it down with some coffee. Then he fished his aching cock out of his pants, giving it a firm stroke.

No one could see him, anyway. A hedge kept away prying eyes on two sides of his backyard. The third side was unobstructed—there were no physical barriers between his house and Niall’s.

If Niall wanted to watch, well. He could come all the way over here, and Jag would only be too happy to show him.

He played with himself, giving his length slow, unhurried strokes as the lumberjack began fucking his omega. The omega in the book begged a lot. And he was so wet. Fuck, he was hungry for cock. Would Niall be? Jag licked his lips, glancing at the twitching blue curtains before picking back up where the lumberjack was growing increasingly desperate to come.

The alpha fucked his omega so hard into the bed, it banged against the wall. Jag salivated when the omega grew even tighter; he began to jerk himself off for real, trying to breathe as the lumberjack came and knotted inside his omega, fucking his knot deep.

What would Niall sound like, taking Jag’s knot?

Jag came everywhere. He tried to keep it on himself, but some of his come landed on the table, and on his plate. He wiped the mess off his chest with a napkin. The few droplets on his pants, he swiped at; his plans today only involved his house. No one would see that his sweatpants had white stains.

He tucked himself back and brought his dishes in to wash, before getting ready to prep some rooms for painting.

The next time his phone buzzed, it was hours later. Jag blinked in surprise at the time. And the message.

Niall

Thank you for breakfast. It was all very good. But, um, I might need some help? The bathtub won’t drain.

Jag

The one in Evan’s bathroom, right? Finish up your shower, but don’t use too much water. I’ll have to get a drain snake before I come over.

If Jag spent a bit too long thinking about Niall showering, no one had to know.