“Describe him to me, Ot,” he groans down the phone, and I look into Tristan’s twinkling eyes. He really is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, which is saying something, since Ellis has graced more magazine covers than any other actor of his generation. “My memory is good, but my left hand needs a little boost.”
Which means he’s found a quiet spot and is jacking off to thoughts of our mate, while I’m sitting here cuddling the real thing.
“Well-fucked,” I reply, the sadist in me enjoying my pack brother’s drawn-out moan. Ellis has a deep, melodic voice that’s made for the big screen, with a raspy edge that even gets me hard in the right headspace. “He’s just finished a yoga workout and he’s wearing those thin lounge pants with the drawstring at the front.” I stroke the soft cotton on Tristan’s thigh, making him squirm. Teasing Ellis is fun, but getting Tristan all hot and bothered is only going to work in my favor. “Remember how you tried to pull the cord with your teeth and ended up ripping out the crotch?”
They both groan, Tristan’s cock twitching against my thumb as I squeeze his thigh. The tension is even more delicious because I can hear Ellis stroking himself from thousands of miles away. “Kiss him, Ot,” he begs, already right on the edge. “Tell me what he tastes like.”
“Happily,” I murmur, before sinking my tongue into our beta’s pliable mouth. Tristan is as beautiful to taste as he is to look at, and I give a possessive growl as he clutches at me. I changed into a business shirt after my shower, and he doesn’t hesitate to pluck at my buttons, sliding his hand inside andstroking my chest. I deepen the kiss, claiming every inch of his mouth, while he grinds needily on my lap. “Perfect,” I declare when I finally pull back, my thumb lingering on his plump bottom lip “Like a decadent mint I found perched on my pillow.”
I squeeze his ass for good measure, but Ellis groans in frustration. “Yes, but how does hetaste?”
I grunt, nuzzling my bonding bite on Tristan’s neck. “You sure you want to torture yourself like that?”
“I want him to come,” Ellis grumbles, “even if it’s your damn hand having all the fun.”
“And my mouth,” I remind him, sucking gently on Tristan’s throat, “because our mate’s bonding bites are as sweet as his tongue.”
“Just stop gloating and get him off, asshole.”
Tristan grins at Ellis’ bossy tone, but the smile morphs into pure need as I slide my hand under the waistband of his lounge pants. He’s hard and leaking, and it only takes a couple of strokes before he’s gripping my shoulder and moaning into my neck.
“I love you, Tris,” Ellis pants, his voice all needy growl. “I miss you so much!”
“I love you, too, Alpha!” Tristan’s bliss-smeared gaze finds mine, and I give him a soft smile as he tenses, his thighs clenching and quivering against mine. “Alpha!”
“Spill for us, sweetheart.”
It’s all it takes for them to both find their release, Tristan crying out as he sucks on my throat and pumps into my hands. I can hear Ellis puffing and spluttering on the phone, no doubt cursing every mile between him and our cum-drained mate.
“Mmm,” I purr as I withdraw my hand and lick my palm. “I can taste more than a hint of green apples. The fresh air definitely suits you, sweetheart.”
“Okay, you can stop torturing me now,” Ellis huffs, the frustration back in his voice despite what sounded like an epic orgasm. “This long-distance shit is going to fucking end me.”
I smirk at his dramatics. “Not long now, Ellis, and then you’ll be with us for six-months straight.”
“Think of all the lounge pants you can chew through in that time,” Tristan adds with a cheeky grin. “I’ll make sure I stock up before you get home.”
“Ugh. Yes, please. Although, you know how Otto is. He’s already going on and on about the publicity tour, and we haven’t even finished post-production.”
Despite his grumbling, Ellis always leaps at the chance to work with Otto Franz. Regarded as the director of his generation, his ego is monumental, even by Hollywood’s standards, and he treats his actors like well-groomed props that only exist to do his bidding. He once told Vanity Fair that Ellis’ birth was the day they met, like he’d molded his genius out of a random lump of clay. Casting Ellis in his first blockbuster definitely boosted his profile, but it was his hard work and family connections that got him on the map in the first place.
Which brings me back around to his manipulative asshole of an uncle and the secret he took to his grave…
“So, tell me more about Idaho,” Ellis says, a note of exhaustion creeping into his voice. “Is it everything you hoped?”
“It’s stunning,” Tristan replies, biting his lip. “We found some perfect locations for the photoshoot, if I can convince the owner to work with us.”
“You’ll have them eating out of your hand in no time, beautiful.”
“I hope so, but… there’s actually a lot more to the story.” Tristan looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Ot, I think we should talk about this now.”
I study his face, his eyes pleading as he chews on his lip. We’ve never kept secrets from each other, and it’s not like I want to keep Ellis in the dark. I would prefer to tell him the truth face-to-face, but at least this is better than a text. “Are you sitting down?”
“No, I’m jerking off in front of the entire crew,” Ellis snorts. “Of course, I’m sitting down. Why? What happened?”
“Nothing bad. In fact, it’s good news.” I feel an unfamiliar flutter under my breastbone, and Tristan winds his arms around my neck, like he’s trying to soothe my racing heart. “We found her, El. Lily is in Idaho. It’s a small town called Knotty Falls, and her farm is one of the locations we’ve looked at for the campaign.”
I expect some kind of reaction, but all we get is silence - that stretches on and on andon.Was he really sitting down, or has the idiot slipped off an icy prop and broken his damn neck?
