When Bjorn arrived back at the house, Viggo’s car was nowhere to be seen and the house was dark.
Figuring he might as well make himself useful, Bjorn grabbed his laptop and a glass of water and made his way to the living room. He sat down on the couch, stretching his feet out onto the coffee table, crossing his ankles and balancing the computer on his lap.
The first thing he did was rehire the cleaning crew that Viggo had put on pause, scheduling them to come the very next day and do a top to bottom deep clean of the entire house. It cost extra, but Bjorn was tired of seeing dust everywhere and he wanted things to get back to normal as soon as possible.
Then, since he didn’t have any clues to investigate, Bjorn sent an email to Mike, his de-facto boss, letting him know that he was back and willing to volunteer his time until his temporary replacement’s contract was up.
Twenty seconds after emailing Mike, Bjorn got a reply asking if he could come in the next day. Chuckling to himself, Bjorn sent back that he could and wondered what Mike had made of his absence.
He doubted that he’d bought the family emergency story, but knowing Mike, the older man wouldn’t pry.
Closing his laptop and putting it aside, Bjorn reached for his water. He looked around the room, feeling antsy and like he should be doing something, but not sure what. He cupped his bulge, his cock half hard against his hip, and considered jerking off. Groping himself, working his cock to full hardness, Bjorn lowered his legs from the coffee table and spread them wide on the floor in front of him.
His balls were full to bursting, heavy and tight against his scrotum, which was odd considering how many times he’d come in the last twenty-four hours. It was like they were trying to empty themselves of six months’ worth of built-up come and Bjorn was just along for the ride.
He let go of his bulge. There was a limit to how many times a man his age should jerk off in any given day, and four was definitely past that limit.
Balancing his glass of water on his lap, right over his bulge, Bjorn sat still and let the cold from the glass seep into his cock. It was a strange feeling but not an altogether unpleasant one.
Sitting there, Bjorn thought about his failure of an investigation, trying to come up with ways he could move forward without bringing in anyone from outside the pack.
That was how Viggo found him a few minutes later. His husband strutted into the room with a cocky grin and a spring in his step, looking exceedingly pleased with himself.
Considering his own failure of a day, it was slightly infuriating.
“What’s up with you?” he asked, immediately wincing at how cranky he sounded.
Viggo took his sour mood in stride, dropping down on the couch next to him and kicking his legs up on the coffee table. He patted Bjorn’s thigh, rubbing up and down as he let out a small chuckle.
“God, I missed that grumpy face of yours,” Viggo said, not answering the question. He reached up and grabbed a hold of Bjorn’s hair, yanking him down for a rough kiss. When they pulled apart, they were both breathless, their rock-hard cocks tenting the fabric of their suit and jeans respectively. Viggo kept his grip on Bjorn’s hair and looked into his eyes. “I love you so much, you know that, right?”
“Love you, too,” Bjorn said, mirroring Viggo’s dopey grin. He leaned in for another kiss, catching Viggo’s lip between his teeth and giving it a slight tug.
“What has you in such a good mood?” he asked a few minutes later, needing a break from making out. He was seconds away from coming in his jeans, and he wanted to last a good deal longer before he came.
He refused to waste an orgasm by shooting into his underwear like a teenager when he had Viggo’s knot right there just waiting for him to sit on it.
Viggo’s face split into a shit-eating grin. “I went to see Sebastian tonight. We had a nice little chat at his mother’s house, though thankfully she wasn’t there, and I told him that he was no longer required to live with us – or even see us – if he didn’t want to.”
“And?” Bjorn prompted, even though he knew from Viggo’s mood that Sebastian hadn’t outright rejected them. “What did he say?”
“We have a date tomorrow night,” Viggo said, smug and self-satisfied. He licked his lips. “We’re picking him up at six.”
Bjorn’s cock throbbed, his mind flashing back to the night they’d spent together. He remembered the physical sensation of having Sebastian trapped between them, weighed down by their heavy limbs, both their cocks pressed hot and hard against him.
He wanted to feel that again, this time without his wolf being in control.
“Where are we taking him?” Bjorn’s voice was rough.
“I’m not sure. Do you have any suggestions?”
Bjorn immediately knew what he wanted. “We should book a private pool at the hot springs.”
Viggo’s eyes darkened, but he chuckled and shook his head. “In the middle of summer? I don’t think that would be very comfortable.”
Bjorn wrinkled his nose. Viggo was right, of course, but he’d been swept up by the idea of swimming with Sebastian again.
“How about a club?” Bjorn suggested. Grinding up against Sebastian on the dancefloor would be well worth having to endure the noise and scents of a crowded club.
