Soren hopped up from the couch. “I’ll need to take some cookies to-go, Jaybird.”
Jay looked up, pink icing smeared on his cheek and a small frown on his lips. “But you haven’t even decorated any!”
Soren waved a hand at Jay’s plate. “Then I’ll take some of yours.”
Jay looked mildly disgruntled for only a moment before he caved, plating Soren a few garishly decorated cookies to take home with him. Soren kissed him on the cheek for his sweetness, patted Alexei on the shoulder for existing, and pinched Colin’s side just to hear him grumble.
“Ta-ta for now!” he sang as he walked out the door. “Don’t forget! Threesomes are fleeting, but the awkwardness lasts forever!”
He was rewarded with the sound of Colin choking on his own spit as he waltzed out the door.
There, he’d gotten him. Soren grinned brightly as he began the walk home, cookies in tow. No one could ever accuse him of failing to make an impression, now, could they?
Soren threw openthe door with a pleasantly dramatic bang, shouting out, “Honey, I’m hoooome!”
He could already tell Gabe was back from his run—Soren could smell him, that clean citrus scent amplified by his exertion in the woods. A much more enticing scent than sugar cookies and flavored lube.
Sure enough, he found Gabe on the sofa, blessedly shirtless, his muscled chest on display, broad arms spread over the back of the couch, watching some horrid sportsball game.
God, he was delicious.
Soren set his pilfered cookies on the coffee table with a flourish. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Highness.”
He didn’t miss the flash of genuine pleasure that crossed Gabe’s face before he cocked a skeptical brow. “You baked?”
“Jay baked,” Soren corrected. “I decorated.”
A pause. “You decorated?”
Soren huffed, placing a hand on his cocked hip. “Fine.Jaydecorated. I commandeered them afterwards.” He studied his nails. “And I had to sit through Jay and Alexei making kissy faces at each other while they made them, so really, I’ve done my part.”
Gabe grinned up at him, clearly pleased at having caught Soren out. “Well, then. Happy Valentine’s, baby.”
“And?”
“And?”
Soren waved a hand at his offering. “I brought you cookies, like a good Valentine. Where’smytreat?”
Gabe’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I distinctly remember you telling me that if I brought you—and I quote—‘any tacky Valentine’s bullshit,’ I wouldn’t be getting laid for a week.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth, mumbling something that sounded dangerously close to “as if you could last that long.”
Soren straightened up to his full, haughty height. “I don’t wantthings,” he told Gabe pointedly, his eyes roaming over his bare chest lasciviously. Really, could his matebeany more dense? Good thing he was so good-looking; otherwise, what would anyone do with him?
But Gabe seemed to finally get the message. His golden eyes lit up with interest, and he widened those wonderfully thickthighs oh so subtly on the couch. “Oh yeah, baby brat? Whatdoyou want, then?”
What Soren more than kind of wanted was his mouth on Gabe’s noticeably growing bulge, to feel the warmth and heft of it on his tongue. He could almost taste the bitter tang of precum already. Buthewas the one owed a Valentine’s gift, so he demanded the next best thing. “I want you to suck me.”
Gabe licked his lips, his gaze drifting down to Soren’s leather-clad crotch. “Oh yeah?”
Soren gave him his most manic grin. “Yeah.”
Gabe took his arms off the back of the couch, sliding down and patting his lap. “Then get over here.”
Soren sauntered around the coffee table, putting just the right amount of swing in his hips, gratified when Gabe’s hungry eyes followed their movement. He stopped between Gabe’s legs and unzipped his red leather pants—Soren may not have been a Valentine’s convert, but he was never one to say no to an excuse for a themed ensemble—lowering them just enough for his hardening cock to spring free.
Christ, that was a relief. Gabe hadn’t even touched him, and Soren was already filling rapidly, all his blood rushing south at just the thought of Gabe’s talented mouth on his cock. It was almost embarrassing. But who could blame him, really? His mate was just so goddamnhandsome, all those golden muscles on display, his scent as mouthwatering as ever.
Soren placed one knee on the couch, then the next, sliding forward until he was straddling Gabe’s legs, working as best he could within the constraints of the tight leather.
