“Thanks.” He shoved another forkful in his mouth, not sure what else to say. What do you say to something like that? Thank you seemed inadequate.
They finished their dinner. George helped Tank clean up while Tank protested that his guest shouldn’t be cleaning. George scraped his plate and grinned at the take-out boxes he spotted in the trash.
Maybe he would invite Tank to his place and cook him a nice, thick steak.
“Found me out.”
George looked over his shoulder to see Tank standing so close behind him that he felt his breath on the nape of his neck.
“I had my suspicions. It was good anyway.” George turned around and, closed the distance, taking Tank’s lips in an unsure kiss. Tank didn’t rush it this time. He kissed him back leisurely, as if sitting on a porch on lazy Sunday morning drinking lemonade. Tank’s slow movements were setting George’s blood on fire.
A tingle of excitement raced through George as Tank’s fingers trailed up his arms. He could feel his body responding to that gentle touch, and George was frightened of this reaction, but he couldn’t
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push the big teddy bear away.
Tank’s slow, drugging kisses were taking him to another plane.
George caught the whimper before it could escape when Tank pulled back. His lips were still warm and moist from Tank’s kiss.
They both stood there for a moment, as if coming out of a trance.
“Follow me,” Tank said hoarsely, grabbing George’s hand and leading him down the hall and through a door.
George dug his heels in when he saw that it was a bedroom. The bed that was in the center of the room could fit three Tanks in it. He admitted that the kiss was spectacular on a mega million dollar scale, but he wasn’t sure about no dang bed.
“I thought we agreed we were at an impasse.” George pulled his hand from Tank’s, crossing his arms over his chest. He was irritated even further when he felt his body slightly shake.
“You agreed. No pressure. Just sit and talk with me.” Tank crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him.
George arched a brow. “Ain’t that a line you use on an unsuspecting girl?”
“Don’t know. Never been with one.” Tank gave him a mischievous grin. George swam in a sea of insecurities. His body was pleading with him to go to Tank, but his mind and heart feared what could happen if he opened himself up. Being with a man larger than him, a man who didn’t hide his sexual preference, was new to him, and George wasn’t so sure he could handle it.
“Fine, but don’t make me smack you.” George stomped over to Tank and plopped down on the bed. Once again he crossed his arms to hide the shaking his hands were going through.
Tank pulled George’s arm away from his chest and ran his fingers over the back of George’s hand. The giant cleared his throat. “I’m a Timber wolf, two hundred and sixteen years old, and I’ve been looking for my mate since I was eighteen. That’s you, if you haven’t figured that out.” Tank smiled softly at George. “We only get one.
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One mate to last us till we reach one thousand years old. If you deny me, I have another seven hundred and eighty-four years to be alone.”
“I thought you said no pressure.” His head was in a whirl. This was all too much for him to take in. That’s a long time to be alone. A wolf? One thousand years? Crap, he needed time to absorb this. “So if I let you claim me, I live that long, too?”
“Yes. You’ll never get sick, you’ll heal faster than an unmated human, and I
promise
to always make you happy and take care of all your wants and needs.” Tank kept his head down, afraid of being rejected again would be George’s guess.
“We still need to settle this bottom thing.” Damn, what should he do? He didn’t need Tank to take care of him, but to have that kind of devotion? His heart was torn.
“Just once? Let me claim you, George. That’s all I ask. We can work anything out after that.” Tank pleaded with his eyes.
George took of his hat, placing it beside him as he ran his hand through his hair. “Once?” He looked over to Tank, unsure of what he was about to agree to.
* * * *
“Promise.” Tank’s excitement was hard to contain. Was he really about to claim his mate? Would George agree to it? He held his breath as he waited for George’s reply.
“How do we do this?”
Fuck yeah! He felt as though he’d just hit the lottery. Tank pulled George into his arms, laying him gently down on his back. “Just let me love you.” Tank crawled over George. “Just once.” His body trembled, and his hands shook as he feathered his fingers over the cowboy’s tanned face.
George nodded and pulled Tank down for a scorching kiss.
George wrapped his legs around Tank’s waist and opened his mouth for Tank’s exploration. As good as this was, Tank didn’t want to
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waste time. The fear of his mate changing his mind had him moving away from the kiss.
Tank pulled back and unwrapped his mate’s legs, pulling his T-shirt over his head and disrobing the rest of his clothes. He really didn’t want to rush things, but his stomach knotted thinking of the man changing his mind at the last second.
George’s eyes widened. “Is that a side of beef hanging between your legs? Oh,
hell
no. I think I may have changed my mind.” George gulped audibly while staring at Tank’s cock.
“Don’t. Please. I won’t hurt you,” Tank pleaded as he reached down and pulled George to his feet, kissing his neck as he unsnapped his jeans, fishing his cock out and dropping to his knees.
“Tank,” George croaked out as he pulled his shirt from over his head. Tank looked up into his mate’s eyes, seeing the hesitation, fear, and lust burning in them. What had George been through to become so terrified of giving himself over?
“Just once,” Tank whispered as he swallowed his mate’s cock.
“Oh, fuck.” George’s head fell forward, grabbing Tank’s shoulders as he swung his hips back and forth. Tank growled and applied suction, fucking his mouth on George’s cock.
“Tank.” George moaned. It sounded like an angel spreading its wings to Tank’s ears.
His tongue danced with George’s cock in a duel of seduction.
Tank was now hopelessly addicted.
The coiled tension in his gut was too much, and Tank needed to claim what fate had given him while George was in agreement.
His mate cried out when Tank released him. That sound was like a symphony on a warm summer’s night. “Strip,” Tank commanded, and George didn’t hesitate. He tossed his clothes off of his lean and—
fuck, it was gorgeous—body, and crawled up on the bed, then lay on his back and grabbed his hardened shaft. Tank’s body hummed at the sight before him.
“You gonna finish?” George smiled, and Tank lost the ability to
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breathe.
“Your smile must bring out the sun every morning.” His mate’s skin flushed, and there was never a more beautiful sight in heaven or on earth.
Tank smiled and crawled between George’s legs, lowering as he took the cock down his throat.
“Yes, Tank.” George hitched his hips, grabbing Tank’s head as he pumped rapidly into Tank’s mouth.
Tank wet a finger then pushed gently into his mate’s ass.
Knowing this was the first time the cowboy was being breached, Tank let his finger rest while he squeezed George’s shaft. He ran his tongue up the length of George’s shaft then crooked his finger
“Holy fuck!” George shot down Tank’s throat, his back arching off of the bed. He drank his fill of his mate’s seed until George had no more to give.
Tank didn’t stop. He licked and sucked his way down until he lapped at his mate’s balls, inhaling the strong scent of pure man between George’s legs.
“I don’t think I can survive until sundown if you do that again.” George panted out.
“Like that?” Tank grinned around his mate’s balls, sliding a third finger in.
“Whoa. If you hadn’t noticed, your fingers are the size of sausages. Easy, boy.” George moved a little to the side. Tank was afraid his cowboy was feeling a bit full and uncomfortable. “Relax, it gets better. Promise.” Tank once again found George’s prostate and slid his finger across, his mate hissing and bucking his hips. Tank leaned back and lubed his cock, impatient to claim what was his.
“Ready?”
“No.” George grabbed the sheets, turning his face away from Tank. The shame on the man’s face tore Tank’s mind in two. He wanted this cowboy more than tides needed the moons pull, but he didn’t want to take if it wasn’t being freely offered.
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“George, look at me.” Tank gently tugged his mate’s chin until he was staring into those beautiful, crystal-blue eyes. “Just once.” George locked his jaw and nodded.
Tank pushed slowly past the ring of muscles, stopping when the head opened George wide. He gripped his mate’s hips and pushed further, watching George’s eyes for any sign of pain. If he asked, he would stop, although it would kill Tank now that he knew what an angel felt like.
Tank bottomed out and waited a moment until George’s body adjusted to his invasion. This was the guy’s first time on the receiving end, and Tank would do everything possible to make it pleasurable.
Tank wrapped George’s legs around his waist, ghosting his hands down George’s legs to ease the tension. He pulled back and then stroked long and deep. George’s eyes closed, and his head fell back, his lips parting. He moaned as he bowed his back, taking Tank to a new depth.
“Do you accept me as your mate, George?” Tank’s canines dropped, and his eyes shifted. He was terrified his mate would change his mind and leave now that he could see his wolf. What would he do if George decided not to go through with this?
“What am I supposed to say?” George groaned.
“A simple ‘yes, Tank.’”
“Yes, Tank.”
Tank was flying high. George had agreed to the claiming. He dropped to his forearms, licking a long path along the throbbing vein in his mate’s neck before he struck.
Tank felt the ribbons of their souls unwind from each of them and entwine together, their heartbeats synchronizing. They were mated now. Tank was elated.
George shouted as Tank unloaded at the same time. His brain was in a fog of lust. Tank thrust harder, wanting his seed deep inside his mate. George’s body was an addiction Tank knew he would never get enough of. Tank licked the wound closed as he panted for air. He fell
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49
to his side, reaching for his mate.
George threw his arm over his eyes and a short breath left his lips.
He shook his head back and forth as if a battle was raging inside of him. Tank pulled his arms back and waited.
George rolled over and stood, grabbing his clothes.
“George, what’s wrong?” Tank jumped up from his bed and tried to pull his cowboy into his arms. George pushed him back.
“I need time, Tank. This is a lot to wrap my head around. Please, just give me time.” George’s voice broke. He dropped his eyes and quickly dressed, never looking at Tank. “Can you please take me to my truck?”
Tank’s heart was being ripped from his chest, but he nodded and got dressed. This couldn’t be happening. He was finding it hard to breathe. His chest felt like the world was pressing against it and crushing it.
He had rushed his mate, and now he was paying the consequences. Tank held his feelings in, not showing how devastated and angry he was.
* * * *
George climbed into his truck and drove away, his heart hurting more the further from Tank he got. He needed time to himself to let his mind adjust to the fact that he was just fucked. He was just claimed. The feeling of being less than a man was strong. George was a rough and tough cowboy, but he felt like Tank’s bitch.
He punched the dashboard, cursing because he wanted to turn his truck around and run into Tank’s arms. Well, the guy got what he wanted. He claimed him, and now he could leave George the hell alone.
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Chapter Five
Tank dropped onto the side of his bed, looking over at the rumpled sheets where moments ago he had held his mate. He dropped his face in his hands at the cruelty of fate. All he had wanted was what he saw in the other relationships in the house. He wanted those intimate moments, shared secrets, giggles.
Now he was left with a hollow hole that used to have his heart there. Tank clenched his fists as he stood. He wouldn’t let George get away. He’d give him time to adjust, but he wasn’t giving up. George was his, and nothing on earth would come between them, not even his own mate.
Tank rubbed his hands over his head as he wandered to the kitchen. He needed to think. He stood at the entrance to the kitchen, remembering the intimate dinner they shared. Tank had thought it was going so well. What had he done wrong that ran his cowboy away?
“No sad.” Keata hugged Tank around the waist.
“Hey, buddy.” Tank squeezed Keata then walked over to the refrigerator, eating his sorrows away.
“That bad?”
Tank looked over his shoulders to see the other mates entering the kitchen. He grabbed the leftover take-out container, wanting to go to his room to be alone. After what just happened, company was not something he wanted.
“So, we have a runaway mate on our hands?” Cecil took a seat at the table.
Tank just shrugged. He really didn’t feel like talking about it.
“You know what you need, Tank?” Drew patted Tank on his back,
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unable to reach his shoulders.
Tank arched a brow and looked around the kitchen, not liking the looks in the little mates’ eyes. They were up to something, but he just didn’t know what…yet.
“You need intervention.” Blair leaned against the counter.
“Intervention?” If Cecil cooked up this plan, Tank wasn’t going to like it.
“Yep.” Johnny piped up. “You need us.” He pointed to every mate in the room.