Page 22 of Fearless Bond

At eleven, I gave up waiting for him. I lay in bed, head full of images of Barclay in various stages of undress carrying large chunks of wood. I really wanted to see him without a shirt.

The door clicked, and the sound of his steps passed by my door as he walked down the hall. He entered the bathroom, and the soft hum of the shower breached the silence. He was naked two doors away from me.

Hell, I wanted to see his cock. He must be big everywhere.

My balls throbbed, and my hole relaxed. I ended up shoving my hand down my pajama bottoms. My orgasm crested fast, short and unsatisfying. With two fingers up my hole, I tried to wring more pleasure out, but I felt empty and tired. I stroked my outer ring, smearing slick around. I should go wash up.

I must have fallen asleep before I managed to do that. When I woke up, it was still dark, and the fingers on my right hand were coated with dry slick. Parched, I sat up and fumbled to find a light switch. The lamp blinded me for a second before my eyes adjusted. The water glass I’d left on the nightstand was half empty. I chugged the contents and set it back. Why was I sweating so much? It wasn’t that hot in here, was it? I stretched my arms above my head and yawned. Was I getting sick? But I didn’t have a sore throat, not even a headache. There was just this restlessness and a dull ache around my middle.

I rolled to the side, about to stand up, and froze. Warm liquid smeared between my ass cheeks. Loads of slick. It felt oily, thicker than ever. Without thinking, I reached back into my crease. My hole was open, the ring twitching at the touch. The sensation was electric. Shuddering, I moaned, and more slippery fluid poured onto my fingers.

What the hell?I needed a shower.

I scrambled up and braced myself on the wall. My knees shook under me, and all the slick trickled down my thighs.

Sweet, merciful heaven, was I going into heat? That wasn’t possible. I had four months left!

Stumbling toward the door, I managed to open it.

The smell. It was thicker out here. Like a puppet on a string, I went after it.

It was Barclay. The big, grumpy alpha with muscles like boulders and the most enticing scent in the world.

I had to find Barclay.

8

BARCLAY

I woke up with a start.Calvin. I sat up on the bed and listened, but the house was quiet. There was no danger. My guest was safe in his bedroom, probably fast asleep, and I was being paranoid—in my dreams.

Groaning, I fell back on the bed, the mattress bouncing. Why did I have to be so worried about the boy? Yeah, he was adorable and smelled like a luxury dessert, but in a few days, his friend would pick him up and he’d be gone. I shouldn’t be all tied up in knots because of him. I’d stayed away, avoiding his tantalizing scent by hiding in the shed. Even so, I’d had to jerk off furiouslytwicebefore I fell asleep.

Calvin was leaving. When he did, I should start dating again. I’d let myself become complacent, and now I was beginning to feel lonely. The chance that I would stumble upon my mate here in Beauville was nil, so maybe I should ask Hunter to give me some pointers. He was on all these dating apps and drove to cities to meet people. I could go with him one day.

It was a decent plan: one, no perving on Calvin; two, date new people; three, find a mate. Good. Now I should be able to sleep.

Except the fated mate thing was such a hassle. You needed to find the perfect fit, and shifter mates didn’t grow on trees. Hunter had been looking for years, and still no luck. I remembered the disappointment all too well. You liked a guy, went out, maybe even fucked, hoping things would fall into place… and nothing. It used to make me feel like an ass, like I was using those guys, even though everything was always perfectly consensual. In the end, just fucking omegas who chased shifters for kicks became the easiest thing. At least nobody got his hopes up and ended up heartbroken.

What if I tried finding someone like Calvin? He was so damn cute; it was doing my head in. Hewastoo young but also surprisingly smart for his age. Levelheaded. And sweet… Would an omega like him give an old grouch a chance?

When I closed my eyes, I could see him on the insides of my eyelids as if I had taken a photo with my mind. Those pretty, plush lips, his innocent gaze, his thin, elegant hands… He had a nice ass too. A perfect palmful. He was so tiny I could lift him with one arm. Hold him up, move him around… How much of my dick would he be able to take? Fuck, that was a total turn-on. It had never occurred to me before, but the idea of fucking a much smaller guy was arousing as hell.

Ugh. I was such a creep. Poor Calvin. If he only knew I’d jerked off to fantasies of him naked in my lap.

I rolled to my side and squeezed my eyes shut, determined to sleep without touching my stupid dick again. If I had to count sheep, so be it. I imagined a low fence crossing a meadow and a fluffy ewe trotting toward it. Hop. One. Another ewe, white like a cloud. Hop. Two… Was Calvin sleeping well? Maybe he wastossing and turning like me.Think about sheep. White, cuddly sheep.Three. Four. A skinny little lamb. Five.

This was ludicrous. I rolled onto my back, groaning. Why was my dick plumping up again? I was supposed to be counting sheep!

Then I heard a noise. Dainty feet padded the hardwood floor, and panting breaths came from the hallway.He just needs to pee, or maybe he’s getting a glass of water. Let him be.

I strained to listen. Why was he breathing so hard?

A soft whimper came through my closed bedroom door.

Something wasn’t right.

I hopped off the bed, opened the door, and hit the light switch in the hallway.

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