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The smaller werewolf hurried off to the bathroom. It was only a couple of seconds before the water came on in a rush followed by the dull thuds of River’s shoes hitting the floor. Wyatt sank down on the end of the bed. He started to reach for his own shoes but stopped and let his eyes drift over the beautiful room. The same thought trickled back in his brain that had haunted him for nearly a dozen years.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

His life would never have included a fancy house like this. No, it would have been simple and cozy. But it would have likely included a wife and a kid. River would have been forced into the realm of stolen moments away from prying eyes. A shameful secret.

But he hadn’t wanted that for them. He’d demanded the right to hold River’s hand in public. The right to build a life with him.

And they’d earned exile and death threats. An existence on the run and in hiding. They were slaves of vampires—the only creatures he knew capable of protecting them.

What if he’d just kept his mouth shut?

They’d still be among their own kind. They’d have homes and lives. Jobs and friends.

But he’d never again feel the strength of River’s hands on his body. He’d miss River’s smile and wonderful laugh. He’d have to live without River’s love. And that was no life at all.

He prayed that his lover felt the same way after so many painful, exhausting years.

Kicking off his shoes, Wyatt stood and pulled off his T-shirt, dropping it on the floor as he walked into the bathroom. A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth as he found River’s clothes strewn about the white tile. He was standing under the spray, the heat already fogging up the long mirror over the dual sinks and the glass wall of the stall.

His head was reclined, and his body looked relaxed. Part of Wyatt wanted to stand there admiring the beautiful curve of his back as it swooped to his perfect ass. But the rest of him wanted in that shower to feel all that slick, warm skin pressed to his own.

Shucking the rest of his clothes, Wyatt stepped into the large stall. He slid his hands along River’s shoulders and across his chest, his cock stiffening at all that flawless tan skin and the low moan of pleasure that rumbled up the man’s throat.

“How could I have forgotten how good you feel in my arms?” Wyatt murmured. He stepped up against River, his dick cradled between his cheeks as he slowly moved his hands over River’s body. He wanted to memorize every ripple of muscle and sweet hollow.

River rested his head on Wyatt’s shoulder, lifting his lips for a kiss. Wyatt could never deny River anything if it was within his power to give it. And River so rarely asked for anything. Just Wyatt’s love.

Lowering his mouth, he kissed River. He licked along parted, full lips and then deeper, inch by slow inch, until their tongues tangled. River reached up and thrust his fingers into Wyatt’s hair, trying to hold him captive so he could deepen the kiss even more. It took all his willpower to end the kiss, and it nearly broke on River’s hungry moan. His lover was all passion and wildfire. Wyatt wanted nothing more than for River to let all that desire loose on him, but tonight was about cherishing each second.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” Wyatt murmured, his lips brushing against River’s as he spoke.

“You always take care of me.”

Wyatt hummed, turning his face to rub his nose along River’s cheek and jaw. He smelled of sunshine and summer again. “Yes, I love taking care of you.”

He released River long enough to reach for the bottle of shampoo on a shelf in the stall. Popping open the cap, he sniffed it and smiled. A nice mix of rich spices. And very likely to be expensive stuff if the appearance of Bel and Rafe were any indication. He poured some of it into his hand and put the bottle aside so he could wash River’s hair.

The lingering sexual tension in River’s frame eased and he relaxed under Wyatt’s touch, making little noises of pleasure. After his hair was done, he switched to the body wash. He moved his hands over every inch of River, massaging tense muscles until he felt loose and relaxed. He leaned one shoulder against the tile shower as if it were the only way he was still standing upright.

As the hot water washed away the last of his suds, Wyatt dropped to his knees. He licked around the straining head of River’s cock. His man sucked in a harsh breath and straightened, as if waking from the spell Wyatt had put him under.


Tags: Jocelynn Drake Lords of Discord Paranormal