“Yes.”
“On rut suppressants?”
“Mhm.”
And hadn’t Nolan, who’d been the one tasked with hunting them down, given him an earful about it.
Jack ran his hands down Arden’s sides, and was startled when, instead of leaning into it as he’d leaned into every other touch, Arden flinched and squirmed away, face starkly pale.
“You shouldn’t have. Oh, Jack, youshouldn’thave.”
“I should,” Jack said, forcing himself to let Arden go. Keeping him in place would mean holding hard enough to bruise. “I might have gone into rut and fought Beckett for the right to fuck you otherwise. I didn’t want that.”
Arden slid off his lap. “But you shouldn’t have risked yourself! I’m sorry. I never expected to have a heat. Ever. It all seems so ridiculous. And me so old. Oh, it’s too much.No. You shouldn’t have to make yourself sick for me.” He darted in and touched cold fingertips to Jack’s throat, unthinkingly. “You should have stayed away. I’d have got through it.”
Jack knew full well that Arden was seeking a pulse, but he was an alpha who was violently aroused by his husband, and by his lover, and sick to his bones with suppressants. None of that was any excuse for frightening Arden.
Unfortunately, that’s what he did.
He shot out a hand and locked it around Arden’s slender wrist. The low, warning growl came out of his throat unbidden.
Arden froze.
Everything suspended for a long, horrible moment.
Jack took a deep breath, loosened his punishing hold—he didn’t, couldn’t, let go now—and sighed. “Arden,” he said softly. “Sweetheart, please look at me.”
Arden did, immediately and without fuss. Not because he wanted to. Because he was told to. He smiled, but his chest rose and fell quickly.
“I have messed this up terribly,” Jack said.
“No, of course you haven’t,” Arden said at once.
Jack’s lips tightened at the immediate, thoughtless platitude spoken in an appeasing tone. He dropped his hold on Arden’s wrist to palm the backs of his thighs instead and draw him forwards, tucking him between his own spread legs.
And then he showed Arden a degree of surrender that no one, not even Beckett, had ever got out of him.
He allowed his shoulders to bow as he tipped forwards and pressed his forehead lightly against Arden’s chest, exposing his vulnerable nape to the man standing over him.
After a moment, tentative, gentle fingers combed through his hair.
Jack pressed a lingering kiss to Arden’s sternum and looked up. He kept hold of Arden’s narrow hips, contemplating his tense face in silence.
He wanted Arden back on his lap and over his cock. Perhaps, though, it was best not. There was time. They had time. He was an impatient man, and this was a test of character he refused to fail. He wouldn’t enjoy it, but he would not fail.
“Why do you think that I didn’t want to go into rut?” he asked.
“You just said. You didn’t want to fight Beckett.”
“And?”
Arden looked at him as if he was trying to work out whether or not Jack was setting a trap for him. Slowly, he said, “And because you didn’t want to fuck me.”
“That’s right,” Jack said, regretting the flash of pain that crossed Arden’s expressive face even as he nodded stoically. Jack couldn’t help it. He slid his hands around to Arden’s pert backside and indulged himself in the feel of those buttocks filling his palms. “I didn’t want that last night, Arden. Not during your first heat. One day, however?” He allowed his hunger to show on his face, and even Arden couldn’t mistake it for something else. Now that he’d seen the exact same expression on Beckett’s face as he pinned Arden down and fucked him silly, there was no way that he could mistake it. “I am very, very much looking forward to it.” He kneaded Arden’s buttocks playfully, trying to lighten the moment.
“But—”
“Even if I’d been here with you from the start, I’d have asked Beckett to take you for your first heat. And I would have liked the two of you to know each other beforehand. He is far more experienced with other genders than I am. I’ve only ever been with alpha men. When we’re together, sweetheart, you will bemyfirst.”
