Noah’s unblemished skin created a striking contrast to Slade’s heavily inked arms and scarred legs. Slade’s hard cock nestled in the cleft of Noah’s ass. Thrusting became a temptation to overcome. Yet, for all his age, what he’d done to survive, Noah remained innocent in many ways and didn’t deserve waking to find a near-stranger humping his ass.
And what a nice ass. Slade couldn’t help noticing when Noah dropped his jeans the previous night. Guilt. What an unfamiliar, unwelcome emotion.
But didn’t Noah feel good in Slade’s arms? Maybe Noah wasn’t alone in starving for touch. The deep breathing changed. No longer asleep, then, but pretending. Slade held tighter to judge Noah’s reaction.
Noah wriggled ever so slightly into Slade’s grip. So, he wanted comfort. Comfort Slade could give.
They lay together for a long time. Then, finally, Slade murmured, “I know you’re awake.”
“If I keep pretending to be asleep, can I stay like this?”
“For a time.” Only then did Slade notice the collar around Noah’s neck. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry. I need to take this off.” Slade reached for the clasp.
Noah stilled his hands, warm fingers over Slade’s. “No. It’s not a problem.”
“But—”
Noah turned, moving a finger to Slade’s lips. “Shh…”
Precisely what came over Slade, he couldn’t say, but he found himself kissing Noah’s fingertip.
Noah’s eyes widened—he didn’t move the finger.
Then, he did, bringing his mouth to lightly touch his lips to Slade’s. Tentative; far too gentle. He pulled back. “I’m sorry! I…”
“Shhh…” Carefully, oh so carefully, Slade rejoined their lips, leaving every opportunity for Noah to pull away.
“Teach me,” Noah murmured.
Slade gently cupped the back of Noah’s head, deepening the kiss, pressing their mouths together, warm and soft. The most innocent thing ever to come into Slade’s life. Something precious, oh so precious, and he’d won the privilege of giving this to Noah.
Noah retreated, eyes downcast, but smiling. “I’ve never been kissed before.”
A thrill went through Slade. He’d never been anyone’s first kiss, probably not even in the top one hundred. “There’s so much more to show you.” Pulling away damn near killed Slade. “But not today.”
No, if he held a naked Noah much longer, he couldn’t be responsible for his behavior, on a bed way too small for further action.
“Did I do something wrong?” Noah put a world of hurt into those words.
Tearing at Slade’s soul. “No, Noah. Nothing wrong. But you’re new to this, so new, and I’m old and jaded. I don’t want to take advantage, push you too far too fast.”
“Can I kiss you again sometime?” came Noah’s hopeful reply.
The pleading in Noah’s eyes tugged at Slade’s heartstrings—heartstrings he didn’t realize he possessed. “Whenever you’d like.”
Noah smiled and kissed him again.
Throughout the day, Slade caught Noah watching. He’d return a smile, and Noah bestowed an innocent kiss.
Pure torture. Of the sweetest kind, which might well cost Slade his mind. He disappeared into the bathroom twice to jack off. Could Noah hear him? Smell him?
He grilled steaks for dinner—three for Noah, one for himself. They sat together at a picnic table outside. Quiet. No need for talking. Birds sang in the trees, leaves rustled, squirrels chittered at them from a tree branch.
Peaceful. If not for the curse and Slade’s forced travel, he’d never have experienced such a moment, never have met a lone werewolf in need of someone.
What if the wrong someone had found Noah instead of Slade? He shuddered to think such a thing.
They drank beer, finished their meals, hiked a short way to a river, and sat on the bank. Noah skipped a stone across the shining surface of the water.
