Page 18 of Room 1003

“Yeah, seems like it.” I shuffled my feet, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

“Thank you for having us. Seriously.”

Zack eased past us on his way out the door, following Kit to the car, and he stopped long enough to roll his eyes. “You guys are acting like you’ll never see each other again.” Then he turned to me. “We’ll see you Monday morning. Thanks again.”

“My pleasure.” I infused the words with as much sentiment as I could, gazing down into Shane’s warm eyes.

He backed away without breaking eye contact, until his foot clipped the doorjamb and he staggered. I reached out and caught his arm just in time. There was a spark between us, just a bit of static, but it felt as potent as a high-voltage current, and my heart gave an erraticka-thumpin my chest. Shane’s breath caught, like he felt it too. “S-sorry, thank you,” he stuttered, then he turned on his heel and jogged to the car.

I stayed there watching them until they disappeared down the street.

Oh boy. I was in so much trouble, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Aftertheyleft,thehouse was too empty, too quiet. Even Dmitri seemed unsettled by the sudden loss. He prowled back and forth between the rooms, looking for Kit.

“I’m sorry, baby. He’s not here,” I told him. He either didn’t understand or didn’t care, as he continued his search, his meows pleading.

I ate an early dinner of leftover waffles, then turned on the TV for some kind of noise in the background, but it wasn’t the same, and I knew with certainty that I could never go back to the way it used to be.

When I started taking down the blanket fort, Dmitri complained. Loudly and repeatedly. He attacked my hands, biting and scratching, but no amount of violence would bring them back now. Only time.

My hands were bleeding by the time I was done, and Dmitri had gone limp on the floor. He didn’t complain when I scooped him up.

“I know. I miss them too,” I told him, scratching him behind the ear and planting a kiss on his forehead. I cradled him against my chest, both to comfort him and myself, but he wiggled away. When I put him down, he hopped up onto the couch and hid his face in the corner of the cushion. He was in the mood to sulk, and I couldn’t even blame him. I was too.

I climbed into bed, even though it wasn’t even full dark outside yet. The sooner I went to sleep, the sooner it would be time to see Shane again. The bed felt larger than it did just a few short nights ago, but everything about my life had been flipped on its axis. My entire body ached for Shane. My cock was hard and weeping, and even though my hand wouldn’t be anywhere close to what I craved, it would have to do.

I closed my eyes, stroking my length, and I imagined it was Shane’s smooth, slick channel squeezing my shaft, or maybe his hot mouth, but the callouses on my palm disturbed the image. This wasn’t at all what I wanted, but leaving my balls unmilked would be a painful alternative. I moaned in frustration. Finally, I rolled onto Shane’s side of the bed and buried my face into the pillow, and his scent, like ice cream and sunshine, both comforted and destroyed me. Gripping the pillow, I rutted into the mattress, imagining him beneath me, building friction between the sheets.

When I came, I cried out his name in longing, a promise to my heart that he would one day be mine. I just hoped it was a promise I could keep.

11

Shane

“Areyousureyoucan handle all of me?” Ben asked from behind me, his voice husky with need. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it,” I whimpered. “Please, give it to me. I need you.”

Ben’s hands were so large that he had no trouble taking one ass cheek in each palm, and he spread me wide. I could feel my slick dripping down my thighs, and his purr rumbled through me as he took in the sight. “Oh, Shane. What a vision.” His thumbs inched toward my quivering hole, massaging and stretching me in preparation for him.

My whole body was aching, desperate, my skin on fire. I’d never needed anything so much in my life as I needed him to fill me. I could feel the head of his cock as he lined himself up. As he eased forward with extreme care, my breath came in panting gasps. It seemed to go on forever, the way his thick bulbous head nudged in, before he finally breached my tight hole. He was massive, just like the rest of him, and even with the attention he’d lavished on me with his fingers, it was a tight squeeze.

He moved his hands from my cheeks to my hips, holding me in place. “Are you ready?”

“Gods, yes!” I was about to beg if he didn’t start moving.

But then he surged forward with a smooth thrust of his hips, and I cried out. He hit somewhere deep inside of me that felt like virgin territory. I gripped the bedframe hard, fingers protesting. “Ben, holy shit,” I cursed. “You’re so big!”

He chuckled, the vibration traveling straight to my clenching balls. “Just wait until I give you my knot.” It was both a warning and a promise.

He moved too slow, too careful for how I wanted him, but I knew he wouldn’t be rushed. I was sweating and feverish, gibbering nonsense as my climax crept up. “I’m close,” he grunted. “Come for me.”

And so I did.

As I cried out, my body in the throes of bliss, my eyes flew open. I blinked in the weak light, disoriented for a moment, catching my breath. I was in my bed at home, but Ben was not. My pleasure was doused with a dose of disappointment—followed by surprise. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, rolling away from the sticky mess I’d made on the sheet beneath me. “Seriously?”

I hadn’t had a wet dream since I was a teenager, since… before Embry. I blinked up at the ceiling, clinging to the dream as it drifted away, but it wasn’t mine to keep, and too soon, I was wide awake and in desperate need of a shower.

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