“Arizona,” Ryker said. “The Phoenix Pack.”
“It was a good place to grow up,” August added, “And the pack is pretty healthy.”
“Healthy?”
Ryker nodded. “The pack leadership is very stable and pretty popular, and if people want to leave the pack, the alpha pretty much rubber-stamps the application to let them settle in neutral territory.”
“Do some packs not let people leave?”
“About half don’t,” August said. “The Northwestern pack, for example. They set up challenges to integrate alphas into the leadership, rather than let people strike out on their own.”
Dylan couldn’t imagine what it would be like to grow up somewhere and know that you could never leave. He liked Alaska, and he loved going back in the summers when he didn’t have to deal with all the snow and winter weather, but if he’d known growing up that he had to stay there forever he would have hated it.
“Do you ever go back to visit?” he asked. If they’d defied their parents and not married – or mated – who they were supposed to, they might not be on good terms with them.
“Sometimes, but we’re both pretty busy so it’s not as often as our parents would like. They’re retired, so usually they end up visiting us instead,” Ryker said. “We have three guestrooms, so each set of parents has their own space in our apartment, and then we have one for whenever August’s little brother comes to visit. He’s in college at the moment, doing his undergrad. He drives up sometimes when he has a long weekend.”
“That’s a lot of bedrooms,” Dylan said, wondering exactly how big their apartment was. His little one room studio must have seemed absolutely pathetic to Ryker.
“It’s a big apartment,” Ryker said. There was no modesty in his voice, but rather a cocky sort of pride. “You can come see it after dinner.”
Dylan blushed, his stomach tingling with excitement again. He flashed back to earlier, right after Ryker had carried him down the stairs and set him down on the sidewalk, when August and Ryker had sandwiched him between them.
He wanted them to squish him between them like that again, though next time he wanted them to be naked.
“That would be nice,” he mumbled.
August grinned, wolfish and intent, and lifted his arm to scratch the back of his neck. His sweater pulled tight over arm, his bicep flexing, and Dylan stared at his armpit. He wondered if he’d want Dylan to lick it the way Ryker had wanted him to.
The memory of Ryker’s sweat on his tongue made Dylan’s mouth water, his scalp tingling as he remembered how Ryker had yanked on his hair and pushed his face under his arm.
“We can show you our playroom,” August said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me about learning to suck your own cock, and I have a position I’d like to put you in on our bondage bench.”
The door slid open, just in time for Steve the waiter to walk in and hear the words: our bondage bench.
Ryker and August were facing away from the door, so they didn’t see the way Steve’s gait faltered or the way his face turned red.
He got himself under control with startling speed, coming forward with barely a pause and serving them their appetizers.
The food smelled delicious, and Dylan’s attention was briefly diverted from wondering what a bondage bench was and how it related to his flexibility.
Steve set a plate down in front of him, meeting his gaze with an expression like he couldn’t decide whether he should envy or pity him.
The look barely lasted a second, and then Steve was diverting his attention to the whole table.
“Enjoy your meal, gentlemen. Is there anything else I can get you?”
Ryker ordered another beer, while Dylan and August shook their heads no.
“Let’s dig in,” Ryker said, picking up his fork. His scallops looked delicious, but not nearly as good as the mushrooms on Dylan’s plate.
He reached for his fork and cut off a piece of bread, making sure to get plenty of mushroom as he lifted the food to his mouth.
To his horror, Dylan didn’t like it.
The mushrooms were glazed in an intense sauce that tasted like very strong gravy, and Dylan was barely able to chew and swallow without making a face.
“Good?” Ryker asked, cutting a scallop in half and eating it.
