"What happened today?" Jan asked, switching the topic to safer grounds.
Ethan did not answer him. Instead, he stepped closer and buried his nose in the crook of Jan's neck. The vampire's pale, slender arms stayed hovering in the air, unsure what to do.
Then a series of steady taps sounded on the door. This was followed by the soft clearing of the throat, which identified their guest as the hotel manager.
Bloody old fool! You could've saved us all some grief if you'd come sooner.
"Have you eaten?" Jan asked, trying not to glare at the door.
Ethan shook his head, still resting on Jan's shoulder. "Not hungry."
"Later," Jan called out.
"Yes, sir," Matt responded from behind the door.
"Let's sit," Jan urged, leading Ethan towards the long sectional. But the wolf detoured, heading straight into the bedroom. The California king-sized bed had just been made when his dinner was served. And the pillows, freshly fluffed and primed for his next rest.
Ethan peeled back the comforter and blanket, rubbed his feet on the thick rug under the bed, and climbed into the white sheets. That was when Jan realized the werewolf had walked barefoot to his suite. The building was heated, but it was winter, and the hallways were not exactly room temperature.
Ethan's feet must be freezing.
Jan hurried to the bathroom and grabbed a couple of the heated towels off the rack. Then he came back and wrapped them around the wolf's legs.
But as Jan reached across to yank the covers over him, Ethan grabbed him by the waist and pulled him down onto the bed.
"Wha-" Jan exclaimed, ending in a grunt when he got a faceful of a warm, solid chest. He wriggled, trying to straighten up, but the wolf tightened his arms around him.
"Stop it, Ethan. What're you doing?"
"Stay. You smell like home."
Nonsense, how can I smell like Snow Pines? It's full of wolves who like to pee on every tree to mark their territory.
Nonetheless, Jan paused, holding still.
His body was awkwardly slanted on top of Ethan, and his navel pressed intimately against the lean ridges and contours of the defined abs beneath him. One hand pushed against the wolf's clavicle, supporting his upper body and preventing him from merging their faces together.
But it was not the strong pulse beating enticingly against his palm that kept Jan where he was. Nor was it the scalding heat from Ethan's body, seeping into his clothes and burning away all rational thought.
It was the strained note in the Lycan's voice that held him captive.
His silvery irises flicked up, and he found warm hazel ones waiting for him.
Their eyes held and gazed deeply into each other, with nothing but the rhythmic thump of Ethan's heart to mark the passage of time. The potent, masculine scent danced under the sandalwood aroma of the hotel's shower gel, beckoning Jan's nostrils to indulge. And his elbows bent down by an inch, so he could get nearer and draw in more of the smell that nature seemed to have engineered just for him.
Ethan shifted, shimmying away until he carved out a nook by lying on his side. It was a clear invitation for Jan to lay more comfortably on the bed, but the hands still holding on tight to his waist told him the wolf was not taking no for an answer.
Jan obliged.
He sank sideways onto the other half of the cushion, which had just been warmed by Ethan. As he settled in, he kept his mind from pondering why they were sharing one pillow when at least six others were on the bed.
YOU ARE READING
Blooded Mate
Fantasy[[MATURE CONTENT]] Pack, family, mate. Loyalty, respect, honor. These are the words that form the foundation of the wolf society. At six years old, Ethan had to choose between his Alpha title and his survival on the night of his father's death. As a...
