Page 18 of Untamed Instincts

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.

Chapter Five

Lying awake on the couch, Quinton held his mate close, feeling the reassuring weight of Noah’s body against his own. He traced the gentle curves of Noah’s face, gazing at how peaceful his mate appeared, but Quinton knew peace was fragile.

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