2. Jeffrey

"The fuck?" I stared at the spot where the asshole had just been, my empty hands shaking. Stumbling as his weight disappeared, I was forced to find my balance. The sugar in my stomach churned.

Whipping my head around, alarmed, I observed that there was no one to my left, or right—the hallway completely empty.

Except that it wasn't , because before I could take another breath, a low, menacing growl filled the air.

Mean and deep , the sound quaked through my bones. It set my teeth on edge. Made it feel like electricity was zapping through my body, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.

It was the kind of sound I heard in my nightmares.

The kind of sound made for creaking woods, starry nights, and blood-splattered leaves.

It had no place here, in a town like Ridgefield, where the population was normal and humans were unaware. In fact, the sound was so out of place that when it stopped as abruptly as it had begun, I was nearly able to convince myself that I'd made it up. Hallucinated this entire encounter.

That this was just another nightmare.

Fuck, I really need sleep.

Maybe I'd spent so much time around monsters I was seeing them in places they weren't.

I wasn't hallucinating though.

I just needed to turn around.

Because the growl had very clearly come from behind me.

It was quieter here in the hallway, just the echo of the music from the main room glancing off the walls. Quiet enough it made it easy to catch the wet gasp that left Asshole's lips, confirming that he was, in fact, also behind me. I almost didn't want to look. It felt like Pandora's box. Nothing good could possibly be waiting for me.

Buuuut I looked anyway.

And as I twisted my body entirely around to see where the hell Asshole had gone, it became clear that there was no monster lurking in the dark. At least, not in the way I'd expected.

Pressed against the wall, with his arms twisted behind him, the douchebag wheezed in pain. His mouth opened and shut, sputtering like a fish outta water, his eyes wide with fear. Even in the dark I could see that his face was red. Redder than the sunburn I'd gotten when I was twelve that'd made my whole face peel.

But as ugly of a sight as he made, he wasn't the thing that caught my eye.

Nope.

Nuh-uh.

My full attention was reserved for the man restraining him.

The very muscular man.

The very muscular man who had werewolf practically written all over him.

The very muscular man who towered over the douchebag—despite the fact that he was a massive man himself.

Holy shit.

My savior was huge. Absolutely fucking huge . His body loomed behind the man he had pinned, the low menacing noise I'd heard having clearly come from him. Maybe I'd imagined how terrifying it had sounded. But then he made the sound again—and nope.

I definitely did not imagine that.

My pulse thrummed and my skin felt hot and cold all over as I stared. I couldn't help it. I wasn't used to staring at men and thinking about their biceps. Especially not men I highly suspected to be supernatural. But when faced with a specimen like that …well… Even a straight man couldn't deny he was gorgeous.

Thick thighs.

Broad shoulders.

Veins beneath the dark hair that coated his ropey forearms.

A statue of him belonged in a museum—that's how chiseled his physique was. Or maybe he should've starred in an action flick, all oiled-up muscle and corny dialogue. He belonged on the big screen, blasting through buildings with his laser-beam eyes, or stopping trains one-handed, not…saving me , of all people.

Especially when I could've—probably—saved myself.

The electricity I'd felt in the air was still there. It trembled, making me feel shivery and scared and excited all at once. There was no denying that something was happening here. Something huge. I felt like I'd just woken up.

The merry-go-round stopped spinning.

Distantly, I recognized that this was the same man who had been staring earlier. I wished I'd paid more attention to him then because…holy fuck.

Wow.

My toes curled in my Converse as I stared at the muscles rippling in the stranger's back. He barely had to move to keep Dick-face in check. That took a shit ton of power. I would know, seeing as I'd just barely restrained him myself.

He made it look easy.

Effortless.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—" the asshole chanted in a panicked, quaky voice as his arms were twisted tighter and tighter behind his back. "I'm sorry—" Sexy-strange-probably-a-werewolf-man's forearms flexed, and my stomach went funny for a second—because woah .

I didn't need to see his eyes to know what he was.

But I knew, the second I did, every doubt I had would disappear.

" Security ," I stammered toward their backs, still shocked. "I'll, um. Yeah ." I jerked my head toward the end of the hallway. "I'll be back. In a sec. Yep."

I raced the fuck out of there.

When I returned with two bouncers and my heart in my throat, Mr. Savior was gone. Asshole was on the floor, tied up with his own nasty t-shirt, shivering and scared, snot running down his face like he'd been crying the entire five minutes I'd been gone. He didn't put up a fight as he was ushered out of the club to the front where the cops that had been called were no doubt waiting. When his gaze caught mine, one last, final time, the whites of his eyes flashed, and he quickly ducked away.

Like it was me he was terrified of.

Weird.

Weird, weird.

I made my way outside in a daze, using the back entrance because it was closer to where I'd parked. Ignoring the weight of eyes I still felt on the back of my neck and my aching shoulder, I couldn't help but feel disappointed.

I didn't know what I wanted. Maybe to say thank you to the wolf that had saved me?

It's for the best.

He probably doesn't want your thank you anyway.

In a weird way, I felt like a little kid. Like I'd just seen my hero in real life—and before I'd gotten a chance to get his autograph he'd fucked off back to saving Gotham or whatever.

Disappointed and paranoid was a new combo for me.

But so was the flip in my belly and the flush to my cheeks.

It was pretty outside. All glittery stars and warm breezes. Summer was my favorite time of year. I liked the heat and the way the night sky seemed to stretch on for miles. Figuring I'd do my best to enjoy it on the walk to my truck, I tipped my head toward the clouds, my shoulder aching, and my teeth on edge.

Halfway through the parking lot, things took a turn.

"Jeffrey Prince," a voice said, and I jolted, spinning around, ready to face another threat. Only it wasn't. A threat, I mean. Or at least, I hoped it wasn't. Because it was…yeah.

It was him.

Mr. Savior Hottie McMuscle Pants.

My disappointment bled away as I ran my fingers over the guitar pick in my pocket and swallowed the lump in my throat.

Respond, dumbass.

He's waiting.

"That's your name, isn't it?" Big-and-handsome asked. His voice was soft, and low, and sweet . Cheerful and careful, like he didn't talk all that often and wanted to get it right. There was an uptick to his tone that reminded me of a dog—all hopeful and puppy-like. "I heard you say it. Earlier. He called you a princess. You said "It's Jeffrey Prince actually." It was very heroic!"

So, he'd seen me fight the guy before stepping in. That tracked.

But he was the heroic one, not me.

"Uh, yeah." I squirmed, not really sure why I was squirming. "Thanks for um…" I jerked my thumb back toward the club. "All of that. Not that you needed my help…because obviously you didn't. I got security to come but by then you were?—"

"Had to get out." His eyes flickered in the dark, almost like a cat's.

Fucking knew it.

Werewolf.

This was…my first actual encounter with a werewolf as an adult, despite my unorthodox education.

"Had to…get out?" I repeated, taking a half step toward my truck, my pulse thrumming. "Why?"

His entire face scrunched up, expressive brows drawing low, and his teeth baring as he shook his head. "He was… awful ."

"Yeah, he was," I agreed, because duh.

"No—" the man shook his head again. "He smelled awful," he explained.

"Oh," I couldn't help but laugh. The sound startled right out of me. "Fuck yeah. I was thinking the same thing!"

"Really?" Big dude perked up, taking a half step to meet me. There were barely two feet between us, but it felt like it was closing with every second. It was weird being smaller than someone else. I was tall. I'd always been tall. Plus I'd grown up with Blair, who was practically a goth dwarf. So this feeling of…oh-my-god-I'm- tiny was as unfamiliar as looking at forearms and thinking, fuck, that's hot.

Mr. Savior's chest was right in front of my face. And he didn't have tits, but he may as well have, his pecs were so fucking round. I swear to God I expected them to bounce when he stepped closer. My dick twitched.

I swallowed, taking another half step back, laughter forgotten.

"You are not angry I stole your kill?" he asked, following me again. There were street lights throughout the parking lot—for safety reasons—and I was suddenly grateful for them as his shadowy figure became clearly illuminated the moment he stepped into a puddle of light.

If I'd thought he was handsome before, cloaked in shadow, it was nothing compared to him now that I was seeing him clearly for the first time.

He was striking . Vivid blue eyes. Dark, warm brown hair that flowed jaggedly to his collarbones. Almost like a mullet, but less on purpose. Like it had simply grown that way, and he'd let it—no styling necessary.

His lips were perhaps on the thin side, but that only added to his rugged appearance—made his jawline look wider, made the cleft in his chin more biteable. The slope of his nose. His sharp cheekbones. His heavy brow.

In contrast with his more classically masculine features, there was something soft about him too. Boyish and innocent. I couldn't help but wonder if this was his first time outside his pack entirely.

Maybe it was the flutter of his lashes. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at me, not an ounce of guile in sight.

"Stole my…what now?" Dammit, he'd distracted me with his face.

"Your kill," the man replied. Boy? Because he was obviously younger than me, maybe eighteen, nineteen? So…six years? Fuck. "I would not want to anger you."

"Ummm, no. Nope. I am not angered." I could only assume he was talking about jumping into my fight with Douche-canoe. "It was…" I was so distracted by his pecs I forgot to lie. "It was nice not to have to fight for a change."

"Do you often fight?"

"I guess?" I took another step back and my shoulders connected with the cool metal of my truck. I should get in. I should drive off. I should leave this weird growly guy behind and forget about my fucked up night. I should try to sleep—however unsatisfying and brief it would be.

But I didn't.

"You attract trouble." It wasn't an accusation so much as it was an observation.

An observation that was true, so I didn't bother denying it.

There was something about the way the stranger was looking at me that made it impossible to leave. His gaze pinned me in place. Hungry. Not in a lustful way, the way I was used to people looking at me. But like my presence alone was enough to sate him.

There was no denying that I was standing in front of a predator.

I should've been scared.

But I wasn't.

"Sometimes." I hoped he wouldn't ask more questions I wasn't ready to answer. My keys were a lead weight in my pocket, my belly full of butterflies.

"He smelled awful," the man repeated his earlier words, changing the subject. I nodded, because we'd established this, and I wasn't sure where he was going with it. "But you don't. You smell like happiness ."

Oh.

Oh no.

Is he coming on to me?

I should turn him down, shouldn't I?

I'd just spent all night kidding myself that I was ready to get laid, and I very clearly was not. I should've been disappointed that he wanted something from me, after all, but I wasn't. There was just…something about the way he was staring at me that felt different.

Let him down gently, Jeffrey.

Don't crush him.

He seems like a nice guy.

Shit.

I probably shouldn't have kept staring at his pecs. That was probably why he was confused.

I was throwing off mixed signals.

" Please ?" the man asked, his voice low and needy. It was such a polite request. "Please can I?"

I wasn't really sure what he was asking for, but he was being so sweet about it I couldn't help but agree. A people-pleaser to the core. "Sure, but what are— oh ."

His skin was hot but his breath was even hotter as he pushed against my body. Electricity zapped through me where our thighs touched as the stranger pressed in close and inhaled .

Is he smelling me?

He's totally smelling me.

"Oh fuck." My dick jerked, immediately recognizing the presence of another person.

"It's not enough—" Handsome's voice was a muffled whine, his nostrils flaring. And then, before I could even react, his large palm sunk into my hair. Gently, but firmly, he grabbed a fist full, then tugged my head to the side. Straining now, I sucked in a ragged breath, eyes wide, as the werewolf closed the last few inches between us and snuffled greedily against my throat.

It was kinda innocent. In a sexy way. Like he was literally just breathing me in. His nose skimmed against my sensitive skin, making my toes curl, and I held impossibly, obediently still.

"I have waited so long," he murmured, confusing me once again. Waited so long to sniff someone? Weird kink, but hey. I wasn't judging. So long as we didn't go further than this I would— " Please let me taste you. I will be good. I will be so good for you."

"T-taste me?"

"You are everything I've ever wanted." Damn, okay. "Your skin is sugar." A hot wet tongue swiped across my jugular and my eyes rolled back. "Your scent is…" he growled, low and needy, hips jerking against my own. "Ugh, I don't know—" he whined. "It is heaven. It is everything—it is?—"

I should definitely push him off.

Definitely.

I should definitely let go of his t-shirt and stop pulling him closer.

I should do that.

Otherwise this was going to get very gay very fast, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I'd never looked at another man before and wanted him to touch me. Sure, I'd stolen glances at the guys on the baseball team in high school but that was different. I'd had a girlfriend then, and I wasn't looking. At least…not really?

One time, I'd caught Ian Kelley jerking off in the showers and he'd smirked when he saw me looking.

But that was it.

It wasn't that I was homophobic, because I wasn't. It was just…Blair was the gay one, not me. He should be the one pressed against a pickup truck with a big beefy dude chomping at his neck. I had a PhD in tits, this should not be turning me on.

Except that it was.

And fuck.

Okay.

Maybe I wasn't as straight as I'd thought. Because…damn.

Handsome needed to stop whining or we were going to get caught. The cops were just around the front, probably still dealing with Asshole. We could get arrested for public indecency.

He was being way too loud. I clenched my jaw a little when he dug his teeth into the tendon on the side of my neck, and the whining stopped.

Okay, I'll admit it. The one whining from a little neck stimulation? That was me. Apparently I liked being chomped on.

He was just so…big.

So big.

And he'd saved me.

And with him towering over me there was no one to hide from. It was dark, and warm, and safe. And he smelled as good as he claimed I did. Musky sweet, with a hint of spice. His hand in my hair slid down, cupping the opposite side of my neck.

He could kill you.

Snap the bones easier than you can blink.

That thought somehow only makes this hotter.

I could stay. I could stay and get laid.

He obviously wanted it, if the bulge of his cock pressing into my abs was any indication. This was why I hadn't gone home, wasn't it?

Did it really matter if it was with a dude or a chick?

No.

Feeling rejuvenated, I stopped scratching at Handsome's back—because I'd been doing that too, along with the whining— and gently pulled on his hair to get him to stop chewing on my neck. Damn, his hair was soft. Way softer than any dude's hair had any right to be. Did he condition?

He didn't look like the kind of guy who conditioned.

"One second," I breathed out, unable to help the way I fingered his feathery locks with one hand as I pulled my keys out of my pocket with the other. When I looked up, my stranger's big blue eyes searched mine. Sad, needy, almost like he couldn't fathom why I'd forced him away from his new favorite treat. "Just getting the car open, buddy," I laughed.

"So it is not over?" He perked up again, like an overgrown puppy, and I snorted out another chuckle and grinned.

"Nah." I shook my head, jerking the door open the moment it was no longer locked. "But I'm not touching your dick. I've never… I mean, I'm not—I don't…I'm not comfortable with that. So long as you're cool with that, then yeah, we can keep…doing whatever it is we were just doing."

Maybe more too.

"That is okay," Handsome-and-handsy immediately replied. "I would not last if you did. Looking is enough."

"If you want, you can do a hell of a lot more than look." I pulled the door open to the back seat with a flourish, and then hopped inside, grateful for the length of my legs because they made it easy.

" Really? " If he'd had a tail, I swear it would have been wagging right about then. The second I was in, my stranger climbed in after me. The hot flicker of his breath on the back of my neck sent a shiver down my spine as I turned my body around to face him. Without preamble, he jerked my legs open, and pinned me against the seats with his bulk.

The door slammed shut behind us with a final sort of sound, and my belly flipped as Handsome loomed over me. He was between my legs now, his mass squashing me, my back to the opposite door.

I swear to God he was staring at my pulse.

All thoughts of cops and decency fled my head.

"Really," I managed. "Touching is good too?—"

God, had my voice always gotten all pathetic and breathy like that when I was turned on?

"You sure you're okay with this? I was um…Mmmm…" He licked his lips, his hips rubbing against mine in an entirely distracting way. It was unpracticed but enthusiastic. Like he wasn't sure how to make this work, but sure as fuck wanted to. "Mmm, fuck." My stranger ground down harder, and I couldn't help the way my hips jolted up to meet him. " Shit , I can't think when you do that."

His eyes flashed again.

"I don't want you to think."

My dick was now fully hard, straining against my jeans as he fanned his large, molten hot hands along my hips and squeezed tight enough I was sure I'd bruise.

With a frown, Handsome seemed to decide the angle was not, in fact, good enough.

Because a second later, he yanked my pelvis up, easy as flipping a goddamn pancake. His tongue poked out of the corner of his lips as he concentrated, a needy rumble building in his chest as he grabbed one of my thighs, forced my legs wider, and lined our dicks up.

And that was…fuck yeah.

Fuck.

Handsome rutted me hard against him, like I was a fucking toy for his pleasure. Like I weighed nothing at all, not six-foot-something and two hundred plus pounds of muscled jock.

"No thinking," Handsome moaned, sweat beading at his temple, his hips jerking into mine in an uncoordinated rhythm that made me feel half-drunk. "If you think, you might make me stop."

"Not likely," I could hardly get the words out, my earlier bravado gone as he fucked me through my clothes with my ass off the bench, his big hands clenched around my body. I should not have liked being manhandled like this. It was wrong. I shouldn't. But I did. I really fucking did.

All my life I'd been the strong one.

I was supposed to be the one doing the manhandling, not the other way around.

So why did this feel so good?

Why did it feel like for the first time in my life I wasn't pretending during sex?

I spared one last second to think about how bad of an idea this was—but ultimately—my dick decided for me. I may not have known what my limits were before we'd gotten into the truck, but now that we were here, I was finding I was a lot more flexible than I'd ever known. In more ways than one.

Because the truth was, while I'd never thought I'd have sex with a man, that wasn't the shocking part of all of this. It was what he was that made all the difference. A wolf.

Lydia would've made me shoot him on sight.

And that, somehow, only made me more sure that I was making the right choice.

"Please let me taste you," Handsome murmured for a second time. I wasn't sure if he was asking my permission or not, so I figured I'd just give it to him anyway.

" Yes ."

He licked his lips, our cocks aligned, the hard length of him rub, rub, rubbing against mine. His was larger than mine, even through denim, a frankly monstrous dick rutting against my own. I tracked the movement of his tongue before my gaze snapped to the heave of his pecs as he took a shuddering breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and groaned . Almost like he was holding back. Like he had to center himself. Like there was something about the way I was looking at him that was really fucking doing it for him.

Or…like he'd just come.

My eyes widened.

Wait.

Fuck.

No fucking way.

"Did you just come?" I asked, aiming for incredulousness but landing somewhere around amazed. "Just because I said you could suck my dick?"

"It is a nice dick," Handsome released my hip, pressed the length of his massive hand against my still-clothed dick, and squeezed .

"Hnnnn," my cock spurted a little, precum slicking the inside of my boxers. Hot and sticky, and unfamiliar. I'd never felt this way before. Not with any of my hookups. Ever. My lashes fluttered and I watched through hazy lust-filled goggles as Handsome undid the button on my jeans, then my zipper, and pulled my pants down my legs.

Still clothed in boxers, I felt like an idiot with my jeans dangling around my ankle for all of two seconds before I was distracted by him again. God, his shoulders were big, and round. This was a big vehicle, and yet, it totally shocked me he could fit inside it. That we both could.

He ducked down, soft brunette hair tickling my hips as he buried his face in my crotch and sniffed. I had no idea how he squashed his body to fit, but I was too hard to care.

"Fuuuuck," I gripped onto his head, terrified by how fucking turned on I was. "Are you smelling me?" I was probably sweaty. Which was gross. Did he think I was gross? Did he think?—

"You smell delicious ," Handsome growled, rubbing his lips and nose up and down my length, before diving down to suck through cotton at the secret space behind my balls. I wanted to tell him to back off, that back there was strictly off limits. "You are delicious. Do not worry."

But it felt good.

Way fucking good.

Maybe too good.

No girl I'd been with had ever told me I was delicious before. No girl had ever left bruises on my hips. None of my girlfriends had ever slurped wet kisses up my thighs and scratched me up with stubble. Handsome bit greedily at the sensitive squishy skin on my inner thighs, and I hissed out a breath, pulling hard on his hair to remind him where his mouth should be.

Which was on my dick.

My very needy, very hard dick.

The red tip had poked out of the slit in my boxers, and I nearly came when I saw Handsome open his eyes and spot it for the first time. He growled, low enough it rumbled my entire body and made my hair stand on end again.

He sounded ravenous .

"You are better than a daydream," he told me, breathlessly before leaning over and taking my tip into his wet-hot-wet-hot oh, oh, oh . He did something with his hands, but I was too distracted to tell what it was. Only that my skin felt colder, and his mouth felt hotter, and?—

"Oh," I shuddered, beginning to whine again as he flattened his tongue and slurped. It was unpracticed. I'd certainly had more expert head in the past. But no one had sucked me like they'd die without my cock down their throat before. No one had dug their tongue into my crown to taste every drop of precum that slipped out.

No one had buried their nose in my balls and pulled, and sucked, and sampled the sweat sticky skin like I was a fucking delicacy.

I felt decadent.

Desirable.

Wanted.

Needed.

Loved.

Like a daydream.

"Wider, my prince," Handsome crooned. He shoved my thighs open before I could, pinning my leg against the back seat with one hand . My prince? Huh. That was new. I wiggled a little, just to see how hard it would be to break out of his hold—and was quickly rewarded with a quiet warning growl and the answer that—yes, in fact, it would be quite impossible to get out of his grip.

He was too fucking strong.

Way stronger than me.

Faster.

Better.

That should've scared me.

But it didn't.

Wait…when had he taken my underwear off? I blinked down at my naked cock with confusion. A fresh drop of precum slipped down my shaft as I watched, the vein throbbing, my balls drawing tight, and releasing—over and over as Handsome stared, enraptured.

He looked like he wanted to eat me.

And then he did.

His mouth was liquid heaven as he slurped me down again, hot and messy, his drool slipping down my shaft, my balls, and tickling my taint till it slicked my hole. He was enthusiastic and unabashed, and I had to bite my arm hard to keep my whining quiet enough we wouldn't get caught.

"Did you know you have spots here?" Handsome asked, pulling off my dick with a wet popping sound that had my eyes nearly crossing. My hips jolted toward his lips and he chuckled, like he thought my desperation was cute. The hand he had on my thigh squeezed. Tight.

"S-spots?"

"Mmmm," Handsome leaned down, rubbing his nose up and down the sides of my dick till I stared down at him through hazy eyes to figure out what the fuck he was talking about.

"I don't have—oh." I blinked as he fluttered a kiss against the freckles decorating my shaft. "I guess I do."

"Where else do you have them?"

"Where else do I—" Then my eyes really did roll back. Because he was slurping around my balls again, and one of his fingers was rub, rub, rubbing at my asshole. I opened my mouth to tell him to knock it off, but all that came out was a pathetic little mewl as my hips pressed against his fingers invitingly, and he leaned down to spit—almost lovingly on my hole.

"I have always wanted to do this," Handsome said, his voice almost giddy. I was too shocked and turned on by the spit in my ass crack to properly reply. Why did that feel good? Why did that feel so fucking?—

"Ahhh," he rubbed some more, my ass fluttering and sucking at his finger tip as he slurped my cock back into his throat—like it was nothing, Jesus—growing more practiced by the minute. It didn't take long for me to want more. "Fuck yes."

I mean really, who could blame me?

It wasn't often I felt good. And this was…this was light-years better than good. This was like if amazing and awesome fucked. A new feeling entirely.

"You are so soft here," Handsome murmured when he popped off my dick again. I wasn't sure how I felt about the fact he was staring at my asshole, or commenting on it. So I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the way he tugged at my rim. This was nice . It was nice. "Such pretty, copper hair."

This was definitely nice.

And it wasn't so scary—I mean, he wasn't going in or anything?—

I spoke too soon. I spoke too soon. Jesus Lord Almighty.

"Ugh," I hissed out, clenching hard around his finger to try to force it out.

"Relax," Handsome murmured. "I have not done this before, but I am sure it will go better if you relax."

"Wait, you haven't—oh shit. Fuck." Deeper he pressed, and I thrashed a little, only to discover that was futile because Gigantor still had me pinned. "Fuck. Shit. I-I-I can't. I've never—you're too big."

More, more, more.

"Breathe, sweet one," Handsome murmured, kissing the tip of my cock to distract me. "Let me in. I know you want this. I can smell it all over you."

I hated that he was right, because he was. I did want this. Weird-but-hot comment about my smell, aside.

I needed this man inside me so fucking bad I could hardly breathe, I just–fuck. I had never known that was something I'd want.

"I'm not sure I—" my words were cut off the second he popped deep enough inside me I could finally, properly squeeze around him. It was a weird feeling. Strange. I'd never had anything up there before, and I wasn't sure I liked it. At least…not at first. The longer his finger wiggled though, the more I grew accustomed to it. "Oh fuck yes."

Admittedly…being full was kinda awesome.

Comforting, almost.

Was this why girls liked it?

Because for those few seconds you knew you held someone's entire attention. That they were focused on you. That they wanted you, needed you. It sounds bad but…I'd never liked putting in the work that was necessary for sex. The chase. The seduction. The fuck. Everything fell to me, the responsibility of both our pleasure, my responsibility.

But right now…

Now it wasn't.

I could just lie back.

I could lie back and I could take what Gigantor wanted to give me.

All I had to do was breathe.

" Breathe ," he repeated. This time, I listened. Immediately, there was an improvement. Instead of too full the width of his finger was… not enough . I shuddered, squeezing around him to test the new sensation before relaxing once again as his knuckles brushed against my ass. Handsome grinned up at me from between my legs. "You like it," he blurted, excited.

"I…" Did I like it?

Yes.

Yes I did.

"I like it," I squeezed around him a second time and he groaned.

His eyes flooded black with lust, his chest heaving, as he nosed behind my balls and inhaled greedily. "When you are being fucked your scent grows stronger," he murmured, rubbing those soft-soft lips all over my perineum. "Your eyes beg me."

That was such bullshit, but it was hot bullshit, so I didn't call him out for it.

He pulled his finger halfway out and I hissed, having just gotten used to it. When he pushed back in he crooked his knuckle experimentally and?—

"Oh fuck, shit, god, damn, fuck, yes." My eyes rolled back, my cock jerked, and my ass ground down hard on his fingers. Stars burst behind my eyelids as pleasure exploded through my body unlike anything I'd ever known.

"So pretty," Handsome groaned, pulling his finger out only to shove back in and rub that spot inside me for a second time. "So pretty when you take what your alpha gives you."

"Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker, my god." I ground my ass against his fingers, looking for more, which he happily gave me. In and out, wiggling curiously. He spat on my hole several more times to keep it slick, but I liked the burn of it. I liked it so goddamn much. Maybe that made me fucked in the head. That the pain was half the pleasure, but I didn't care.

I'd have to invest in some lube if I?—

No.

No.

What the hell was I thinking?

This was a one off. A one time thing. That was it—that was—oh. "Please, please," I found myself chanting, spreading wide and writhing like a total slut. This was the exact kinda shit I used to get my girlfriends to do—and yet, here I was, on the receiving end. "Need it—I…" Handsome growled, low and throaty, pleased with himself as he shoved his finger back in at the same time he sucked my cock deep down his throat.

I came the second he glanced against that special spot inside me again. Stars swam in my head, my body a floaty, buzzing mess of endorphins as I gasped and shuddered my way through orgasm. When I glanced down, Handsome was hard again, straining against his jeans. His eyes were bright, excited, like I'd just given him a fucking gift.

When he stuck his tongue out and I caught sight of my load, I nearly came again.

"Turn over," he commanded, voice sounding funny with his mouth full. And then, just like before, he manhandled me onto my belly before I could comply.

My ass felt twitchy and empty now that he wasn't in it. I wasn't sure what to do with that . Wasn't sure what to do with the way I whined and swore when I felt him spit my own cum onto the small of my back, then rub it down my crease and all over my still twitchy asshole.

"Why did you—" There was a weird rustling noise and when I glanced over my shoulder, Handsome had his hand down his pants. He made this wounded sort of sound, animalistic and mean, his teeth bared as he jerked himself off almost violently.

The rosy head of his dick peeked out of the top of his pants—uncut, his foreskin pushed back. The slick shh, shh of his fist moving was almost as filthy as the cum I could feel clinging to my hole. When he was close, he aimed at me, eyes practically glowing as he spilled his load all over my messy ass and thighs.

Hand still on his cock, ringing the last few drops from his tip, my stranger grinned.

It was brighter than sunshine, and warmer than the summer.

I wanted to keep it forever.

And that—yeah.

That was the gayest thought I'd ever had.

Ass messy and sticky with cum, I struggled on wobbly legs. It was tricky, but I managed to flip over, hurriedly tugging my pants back up, mess be damned. Handsome had been polite. He hadn't asked for more than I wanted to give, but still, my mind was reeling.

Exhausted, hyped up on adrenaline, and sated for what felt like the first time in years, I stared at Handsome for what felt like a lifetime, trying to figure him the hell out. He licked his lips, staring back at me like I was still naked. I had to glance down to make sure I wasn't.

"You smell like us," he said, looking proud of himself. "Like you should."

"Okay…that's…" Yeah. And that was officially enough of that. "Thanks for, you know…saving me." I told him again, insides shivering, my hole twitchy. I swear I could feel his cum inside it. Though I knew that wasn't physically possible. My stranger sat down, his cock still peeping out, legs spread as he settled in the seat beside mine.

"You will be safe while I'm around," Handsome promised. Which again—I didn't know what to do with. Felt random as hell, and not at all sex-related. "Trouble will not bother you."

"Yeah, okay, buddy." I leaned over the empty seat and patted his chest, but he caught me by the wrist and yanked me across the seat and into his lap. Nuzzling behind my ear, lips greedy and slick, one of his big hands began kneading one of my ass cheeks.

And then he began his sniff-kissing game again.

I should've pushed him off.

But I didn't.

Because if Bride-to-be patting me earlier had felt good, this was like fucking nirvana. By the time he was done, I was a dazed, sated mess. Fuzzy and soft on the inside as he murmured against my skin, lapped away the salt, and helped me out of the car and around to the front seat.

My truck smells like sex.

"You will be safe," he promised again in parting, beaming at me as he reached over to buckle my seatbelt in a clear dismissal.

I wished I could believe him.

I wanted to believe him.

I really did.

I was sure I'd have a proper freak-out in the morning about all of this, but for now I was content to ride my high all the way through the spindly, winding roads home. Eyes burned on the back of my neck the entire drive, even after I watched Handsome's silhouette disappear in my rearview mirror.

Maybe my head didn't believe him, but my heart kinda did. Because when I pulled into my shitty apartment complex, ninja-d myself up the stairs, and fell into bed—cum covered and hazy—I couldn't help but feel safer than I had since I was a snot-nosed, naive kid.

No one had ever saved me before.

No one.

And for one night, I let myself relive what that had felt like.