“He want a chicken strip meal? Kids eat discount on Thursdays, so I can throw a kids’ meal in for an extra three bucks.” Tripp added it anyway.
“Ughhhhhh.” Kay leaned back in his seat. “I love youuuuuu. Now I don’t have to cook.”
Dray clenched his gun, denting the grip tape on it quite prolifically. Another omega was touching his mate.
Dray banished the thought.
“Nut!” Rick’s cry rang out as he draped back over the chair. “All tests passed. Draaaayyy, can I have him if you don’t want him?”
“No fair, I get first dibs.” Kay licked his lips and hummed.
Rick rolled his eyes and put the jewelry trays away and slid the calipers in a drawer. “I can outrun you.”
“Bitch, I will sit on you.” And the threat of Kay, a sizeable bear shifter with a soft, padded shape and ample bottom, was to be taken seriously. He would.
Tripp ordered, Dray worked, and the other two piddled about until food arrived. He didn’t hesitate at all, tipping the driver a twenty, and as promised, Kay took his to go with the little kid’s meal box steaming on top his own. Rick got a container of wings to himself, and Tripp stilled while Dray cleaned and gave them each a box.
Rick sat and ate his with finger-licking gusto, but Tripp waited for Dray, sitting up with a damp sheet laid over his chest to keep things workable. And at some point, Rick got the hint and slid from his chair. “See you at home, darling.”
Chicken wings came and went, and Dray went back to shading the portion of the tattoo he’d blocked off for the day, a singular goal in mind. But the more he sat leaned over the alpha’s skin, the more he inhaled his rich scent and the perspiration that lightly sheened only after pain, laden with…Dray pulled his gun back and at that exact moment, Tripp reached out to cup the side of his face.
Their eyes met, and Tripp shifted his hips uncomfortably. “I meant what I said. You’re gorgeous.”
“You are too.” Dray swallowed hard and stowed his gun, popping the needle off in an act of finality. He wiped Tripp’s chest and hastily applied a bandage, avoiding eye contact.
“Can I please take you on a date?” Tripp’s scent welled with arousal, and Dray glanced over his groin, staring at a welcome bulge.
“I think you want more than a date.” Dray reached out to rest a hand on his prominent mound, fingers sliding to gauge its girth. A perfect fit, no doubt.
“I can’t help it. When you lean over me, your lashes, your lips, they look so pretty. And the way your hands move. Your touch is so gentle.” Tripp drew Dray’s hand to him, peeled off his glove, and kissed with a slow hum.
Dray pulled back and rested a hand on his belly. “I can’t.”
“And I’m not asking that you do. I’m asking for a date. I like you for you. I don’t care.” Tripp sat up and reached for Dray once more, an open hand in invitation. “But if the answer is no, I understand.”
Dray swallowed hard and stared at the offered hand. “I—I have a baby on the way. You can’t want that.”
Still, Dray reached for his hand and took it gently. And holding was all they did, warm fingers twining. “I’ve never really thought about being a father. It’s always been a goal, but… I won’t mind.”
“It’s not going to be fun. I’ll be sore and big. I’ll hurt and won’t be able to have sex for almost two months. I’ll have a baby up all night crying.” Dray swallowed.
“Maybe not, but I don’t mind you getting big. I’ll rub your feet if you want. If we can’t have sex, we can cuddle. And you’rerunning out of skin to tattoo on yourself—you can cover me in whatever you want. I’ll be your canvas.”
He knew Dray’s weakness, a beautiful canvas ripe for his touch. “You’re good… Sweet talk like that should be illegal.”
“And you’ll do all that crying and waking alone if you don’t have someone. Sure, it’ll be hard, but I’ll hold them. I’ll cook and clean. I’ll wake for feedings.” Tripp’s sweet words earned him a kiss, one that Dray leaned up to give with sweet intent, lips touching, tongues gliding. Forked, as a snake should be. How easily Tripp’s mouth accepted his own.
Dray pulled away, breath shuddering, chest heaving. “One date. After your tattoo is finished. Just one. I don’t want heartbreak to affect my work.”
“Deal.” Tripp barely uttered the word before Dray kissed him again, their mouths hungry, starving, chicken-flavored. Sweet chili aftertaste.
Oh, goddess, it was even better on a kiss than it was on those damn wings.
Dray couldn’t help crawling over the tattoo bed to straddle Tripp, pushing him back down. Their groins rubbed together, clothed erections giving one another a taste of friction that earned a hiss from Tripp’s throat that fluttered out.
The way he moved against the alpha, belly brushing taut abs, cocks seeking the barest amount of touch, drove Tripp crazy, his eyes pinning to beautiful slits, the snake in them a hair’s distance beneath his skin.
Tripp made a wild grab for the work tray; items still spilled across it and fumbled with a container of aftercare lotion. With some skill, he flicked the lid and used thumb and palm to squeeze a dollop onto the heel of his hand before he sent the tube askew. Dray drew back, confused only for half a second before Tripp reached for his waistband, under his belly with zerocare, grasping his cock with the slick lotion reducing the rawness between them. “Wha…”
