Page 2 of Abundant Moon
Chapter 1
LATER THAT MORNING(Saturday)
Lance hit the mattress face-down, having only enough time to grunt before Ash jerked his slender hips higher and slid home. He groaned as his friend’s enormous cock split him wide, squeezing against his prostate in the best possible way with each punishing thrust. They’d already enjoyed a steamy make-out session, followed by a doubly explosive sixty-nine, but those were only the preliminaries. This,this, is what he’d longed for all week and was now finally his.
They’d had eighteen months to perfect their love-making, and right on cue, Ash reached around to grasp Lance’s long slender cock in an iron grip, stroking in time with each slap of flesh on flesh. He loved the way Ash used his extra weight and muscle to hold him in place while he thrust in and out the back door. Controlled. Relentless. Perfect.
What began as a mere tingle now carried them both along in an unstoppable wave of desire. Lance muttered a litany of gibberish mixed with creative curses which would have been funny under other circumstances. Ash knew what it meant – an order for a hard, fast pounding he couldn’t deny or delay for another second. Only shifters achieved and endured this kind of intensity, and Lance abandoned the string of verbal nonsense to scream his way through the resulting orgasm instead.
Ash pushed himself deeper into Lance’s body, filling the man’s ass with the fragrant evidence of their coupling. The cock in his hand pulsed again and again until nothing more remained. With a final grunt and sigh, he withdrew the fleshy assault weapon and laid his partner down on the cum-splattered sheets. As always, he slid in behind Lance for some post horizontal mambo cuddling – his reward for a job well done. The slender man wiggled slightly for a better fit and they lay together quietly to cool off.
Ash enjoyed these quiet moments, or rather, he had until recently. Lance’s attitude began to change over the winter with a definiterelationshipvibe, making him increasingly uncomfortable. If they lingered too long, Lance got clingy and started making hints about their future. From the beginning, this arrangement included nothing more than enjoyable sex between compatible friends. Once Luna brought them their mates, it should end with no hard feelings or regrets.
He didn’t know what might have changed, and as much as he liked and respected Lance, he wasn’t about to encourage any idea of a permanent future for the two of them. If necessary he’d step back and simply put an end to it. Hurting his friend was the last thing he wanted to do, and he hoped the man understood how he felt without having to spell it out. To avoid throwing fuel on the fire, he gave Lance one final squeeze and eased himself off the bed.
“So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?”
Lance heaved a dramatic sigh and turned to face him.
“I’ll go. You don’t have to make small talk or leave hints.”
The men cleaned up and re-dressed quietly. With a final hug, Lance thanked his friend for the fantastic sex and left the apartment. He knew they should probably discuss this change in his feelings, if for no other reason than to clear the air. When whatever they were doing truly ended, Ash remained his packmate and a good friend who’d done nothing wrong.
So why was this so difficult? Lance didn’t know, but the thought of giving it up left him discouraged and uneasy. Deciding a run might help clear his head, he made his way towards the snow-drifted meadow to let his wolf take over for a while.
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EVAN KEPT TABS ON NOLAN, Garrett, and the kids from the relative quiet of the kitchen. Lunch preparations were right on track as long as he didn’t overcook the pasta this time. Bacon mac and cheese remained one of the few tasty things he knew how to make, and if he messed it up, they were left with frozen leftovers or sandwiches. Dine in the packhouse remained an option, but he cherished their family meals and with four ravenous artic wolves at the table, lunchtime could be... intense. Best to keep the experience close to home.
The house seemed empty without their nanny and cook. Lance always had Saturday off, and Cody would be absent for the next week to spend time with his mate and little one. Usually Jonah helped out with the kids on weekends but he was at the office today. With Robyn putting in fewer hours and an inordinately busy giftshop, Jonah found himself putting in overtime hours to catch up. Even Ben wasn’t available, leaving only him and his brood’s favorite pair of uncles to take charge.
At the moment, things were under control as Nolan and Garrett settled the kids on the large couch for story time. Evan kept one eye on the boiling pot of macaroni and both ears tuned to the living room entertainment. Each little one picked out a story from the overflowing bookcase; normally old favorites to get started. When these were finished, both Nolan and Garrett got up to choose a new story to read to their charges.
Thanks to two generous grandmothers, a continuous flow of books arrived with alarming regularity - keeping Ben and Evan’s ankle-biters happy. No one ever knew exactly what the uncles might say, despite the words on the page, and today proved no different. Nolan flashed the cover of his choice at Garrett with a knowing smirk, and his mate nodded. The silent message meant the same thing every time – think of something new, fast! He settled on the couch, allowing the Alpha twins, Derek and Dawson, to reclaim their spot on his lap, and announced the story.
“This one is called ‘Le Petit Chaperon Rouge’, written by a Frenchman named Charles Perrault over three hundred years ago.”
Mitchell interrupted the wiggling and giggling with an honest question.
“Is that older than Jack?”
Nolan laughed and nodded his head. The general hubbub increased as the kids tried to figure out what the strange name meant, eventually demanding an explanation.
Garrett rolled his eyes, eliciting nothing from Nolan except an unrepentant smirk.
“Oh all right! I suppose I can read it inEnglish– but only for you. It means Little Red Riding Hood.”
Evie Rae wrinkled her nose.
“What’s a riding hood, Uncle Nolan?”
