Signing his name, he nibbled his bottom lip, wondering if he’d been too formal. It didn’t sound natural, but he could rewrite it after he’d had time to think. He normally knew what he wanted to say, but this was important and he didn’t want to make a mistake when this might be his only chance to ask Drew for assistance.
Tucking the note into the pocket of his trousers, he decided this was one instance where it might be best to keep a secret from Keon and ask for Weston’s advice before he did something potentially reckless.
The more pressure he could take from Keon’s shoulders, the better. While it took Milo time to remember he wasn’t alone anymore, Keon sometimes forgothewas not alone. He might be Alpha, but he had a partner now. A mate. And Milo intended to be a mate who helped rather than hindered.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Keon
“I KNOW WEdiscussed it.” Milo ran fingertips across the wooden countertop. “But this is beautiful.” He slipped his arms from the crutches and rested them against the counter to retreat into the stool.
Keon stood behind, Milo’s knees against the top of the counter. “It’s designed to be pushed around, with brakes on the wheels.” He darted a cheeky kiss to his cheek. “You can sit at the breakfast bar at this height, or shimmy over from your wheelchair and sit in comfort,” he said, offering a warning,Hold on.
Milo grabbed the countertop as Keon flipped the switch to drop the height of the chair. Slow, but juddering for the first drop, it brought Milo to the perfect height, allowing an easy slide from his chair to the stool, without help. “I love it,” he exclaimed, tilting his head to claim a kiss. Grinning, he shook his head at the counter, running his hands over the smooth wood. Awed. Surprised.
“It’s a good height to bend you over,” Keon teased, nipping his earlobe.
“Are you suggesting I’m short?” Milo retaliated with mock warning, a discreet hand trailing over Keon’s thigh. “Because, I’ll remind you, this is the perfect height to lay you out and take advantage.”
Humming against his neck, Keon nipped at his bruised mate-mark. “Any time, mikha.” He’d be more than happy to comply. Whether Milo wanted to drape him over the edge and make Keon choke on his cock, or feed it to his ass, he was more than willing. Keon walked around Milo’s chair and lifted his ass onto the counter, shuffled over, and moved his leg to straddle Milo’s seat. “This works,” he teased, sliding close enough to take a kiss from waiting lips.
Milo locked his fingers at the back of Keon’s neck and held on to feed on his kisses like a starved man. A hunger Keon was happy to feed. Winding his fingers into Milo’s hair, he tugged and used his heels against the counter to get as close as possible. Trading tongues, savouring the peace. Alone, with time to bask in the mate bond, which solidified as they learned about each other and grew more comfortable. Sharing experiences and secrets.
It didn’t feel like they’d been together for weeks, barely more than a month. M’weko could feel the pull toward different mates throughout their lives, having potential ‘mates’ and one ‘true mate’. The distinction was the important part.
This was nothing short of true mates.
With the mate bond severed with Vega, it took Milo’s acceptance to build the addiction Keon willingly surrendered to. He couldn’t imagine his life without Milo in it. Couldn’t imagine having another mate. Another life. Another future. This was the life he wanted. The mate he wanted.
Milo broke the kiss and beamed bright. “I saw that,” he whispered, stealing another kiss and murmuring against his lips. “You’re trying to corrupt me, Alpha, and I won’t allow it.”
“You don’t have to,” Keon countered, nipping at his bottom lip. “You could let me climb aboard and drive.”
Laughter bubbled as Milo caught Keon’s jumper and tugged him into another kiss. Keon loved his laugh, his voice, everything about his mikha. Could taste the red Macintosh apple on his tongue. The one Milo had picked from the fruit bowl on the counter and eaten as they toured the bottom floor of the house an hour ago, ending with the kitchen. The apple made his kisses taste like Milo, sweet and teasing.
Thank you for doing this for me, Milo said, breaking the kiss but maintaining his grip on Keon’s jumper. He was bubbling with happiness that made Keon’s heart ache. “I did a lot of damage going with you, but I appreciate you suffering me. Not sending me home. Letting me help you keep Haley safe meant the world to me.”
“You had every right to go.” Keon cupped his face to hold his gaze. “She’s your family. I would never come between you,” he said, and tossed his hand to the room. “Don’t thank me for this. I love you, mikha. From the bottom of your toes to the top of your thick skull.”
Milo rolled his eyes, but read his mind. “Take me to bed, Alpha,” he said, using the dreaded title, with weight and responsibility, as the most beautiful pet name.
*
MILO WAS MADEof silk. Clean, pure, and smooth skin beneath his fingertips. Keon had never taken the time or patience to explore him like this, with a whole day to do nothing, uninterrupted.
To save his aching legs, Milo sat in the centre of the bed, legs crossed as Keon knelt behind him. Weston had promised the house was ready to move into, housing most of the furniture and furnishings from his home. A new bed and other furniture had been moved in from the storage sheds to make it theirs and brand new, separate from their old lives.
Kissing the crown of Milo’s head, over the scratchy, newly buzzed hair, he kept a constant trail of light kisses. Hands drifted lazily over Milo’s arms, from biceps to wrist, the fabric of his shirt shifting against his skin. A sigh fluttered in the silent room, clover and honeysuckle sharpening with lust, permanently tainted by Keon’s scent.
He kissed the column of Milo’s neck and let his hands drift from shoulder to chest. Flicking open the top button, trying not to jolt Milo from the headspace he’d fallen into, as his lips grazed the mate-mark on his neck. The delicate bruise refusing to heal, once their bond solidified.
Milo’s breath hitched, and he tilted his head to accommodate another kiss. Keon trailed his tongue over the mark and basked in the shudder it elicited, fingers deftly working on the buttons of Milo’s shirt. As soon as the shirt was unfastened, he nipped at Milo’s jaw. Milo lifted his arms to allow its removal, a hand clasping at Keon’s head when he latched his mouth to a bare neck.
Unable to resist, Keon dipped a hand past the waistband of Milo’s joggers. He moaned and Milo whimpered as his fingers curled around the hard cock beneath.
Stop teasing me, Milo insisted, lowering his hand to Keon’s, separated by fabric.
More like teasing myself,he argued, biting a trail of kisses across Milo’s shoulders to his bare back.All that beautiful skin. I want to lick you from head to toe,he confessed, though he didn’t have the patience.
