That Brigitte had gone along with that request just showed that she wasn’t the friend he’d thought she was.
Sebastian sighed, annoyed at himself for wallowing. He had great friends, even if he wasn’t as close to them as he would like it, and his life was probably better without Brigitte in it anyway.
That was a lie. He missed Brigitte – missed how they used to hang out and talk about everything and anything – and her unexpected betrayal still hurt. He wondered if there was something he could have done to save their friendship – other than pushing her asshole husband off a cliff. If there was, Sebastian hadn’t thought of it.
Sebastian was so absorbed in his maudlin moping, staring down at his phone while he aimlessly scrolled up and down his news feed, that when Bjorn walked into the room, he startled so bad it felt like his soul had left his body. His phone went flying, landing somewhere on the floor, and Sebastian’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest.
“Jesus!” Sebastian wheezed, looking at Bjorn where the werewolf stood frozen a few feet inside the door. “You startled me.”
Calming down, the burst of adrenaline receding and leaving him feeling shaky, Sebastian rose from the couch and bent down to pick up his phone. He kept track of Bjorn out of the corner of his eye, his heart still beating a mile a minute, wondering how he would behave now that Viggo wasn’t there to rein him in.
Standing up, keeping his movements slow and steady like Bjorn was a wild animal he’d encountered in the woods, Sebastian turned to face his new packmate.
The first thing he noticed was the clothes.
Bjorn had changed out of the previous day’s leather pants, exchanging them for a pair of shorts that looked like they had time traveled onto his body from the seventies. They weretiny– the fabric having to stretch to accommodate his muscular ass and enormous package – his meaty thighs on glorious display. The shorts might have been fashionable, in a daring, himbo-slut kind of way, if it hadn’t been for the fact that he’d paired them with mismatched socks pulled all the way up to his knees and a fully buttoned up polo shirt.
The fact that he was sweating like he’d just come from the gym, his hair damp, the polo short clinging to his chest, and his thighsglistening, only made the look more absurd.
Bjorn tilted his head, looking at him with a somewhat wary expression, hesitant after Sebastian’s full-body reaction to his sudden arrival. He lifted his nose, sniffing the air like he was scenting for danger, and took a cautious step forward.
Sebastian fought the urge to take a step back, remembering Viggo’s warning to just tell Bjornnoif he did something Sebastian didn’t like.
Bjorn took another small step, waited, and when Sebastian stayed where he was, grinned and walked right up to him. He loomed, his sweaty polo shirt just inches from Sebastian’s face, his scent a pungent mix of fresh sweat, pine and delicious musk that had Sebastian itching to lean and inhale.
Before he had the chance to embarrass himself by giving in to the instinct, Bjorn grabbed him under his arms and lifted him right off the floor and into a hug.
Crying out in surprise, his feet scrambling for purchase as Bjorn’s arms wrapped around him, Sebastian frowned in dismay when he realized that Bjorn was getting sweat all over his freshly laundered shirt.
“You’re wet,” he whined, trying to wriggle out of Bjorn’s hold. He could feel the sweat soaking his front, wet and gross and humiliatingly wonderful.
Bjorn paid his protest no mind, and Sebastian could do nothing but take it as Bjorn lifted him over to the couch and sat down, manhandling him and turning him around so that he was seated in the narrow space between Bjorn’s tree-trunk thighs.
Perfect. Now his back was wet, too.
“This okay?” Bjorn asked, half question, half command, as he wrapped one arm around Sebastian’s waist, the other coming down over his shoulder like a seatbelt. He pushed Sebastian back against his body, closing his thighs so that Sebastian had no room to wriggle between them.
Sebastian bent his chin, feeling like he was strapped into the seat on a rollercoaster. He stared at Bjorn’s massive hand splayed wide over his belly with awe. Tracing his finger over Bjorn’s knuckles, moving down and following one of the veins on the back of his hand, it took Sebastian a second to realize that Bjorn had frozen.
The werewolf sat stock still as Sebastian touched him, his chest unmoving like he was holding his breath, like he was afraid that if he moved Sebastian would stop touching him.
All of a sudden Bjorn shuddered, his arms tightening, and Sebastian felt the pronounced swell of the alpha’s cock pressing into his lower back.
He moved his hand like he’d been burned, letting it rest awkwardly on his thigh, unsure of how to proceed.
“Are you okay?” he croaked.
Bjorn, erection digging into his back, made a grunting sound that Sebastian didn’t know how to interpret. He then leaned forward, arms tightening even further, and buried his nose in the back of Sebastian’s hair.
Sebastian could feel his breath, moist and warm, tickling his scalp.
“All right,” Sebastian said, his voice cracking. “I’ll take that as a yes. I’m just going to… sit here. Right here, not doing anything. While you smell me. Because that’s a thing you like to do.”
“Yes.” Bjorn sounded pleased, his deep voice sending shivers down Sebastian’s spine.
“Right,” Sebastian said. Even though he could feel Bjorn’s cock throbbing against his back, there was no indication that Bjorn wanted to do anything about it.
Just like last night.
