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Of course Josh didn’t think about it.
The happiness of having Tyler back outweighs any reminders of natural cycles. Of course Josh didn’t think about it. Hell, he didn’t even know if Tyler still had a heat since they starved him so much in Dema.
He does. Very much so, as it turns out.
It’s easy to forget when he’s dealing with an entire camp of hormonal Banditos. Trying to train, trying to drill reminders into their heads because this is what they signed up for, not a life of softness.
Easy for Josh to forget until he wakes up to a familiar scent and the feeling of someone rutting against him.
“Oh my God,” Josh says under his breath. It just slips out. He’s just-fuck. He’s so stupid. How could he let himself sleep in the same cot as Tyler? After everything? Something as high-stress as his escape surely sent him into an early heat. Undoubtably. And now he’s-
“Josh,” Tyler mumbles, clinging to his arm. He’s drooling. The entire tent smells like hazelnut and pine needles. It’s dizzying. “Josh. Alpha. Josh.” The words are synonymous in his hormone-addled mind. Waking up to the smell of an Alpha probably didn’t help, either. Great. Awesome, Josh. Great job.
Josh feels his stomach lurch. He gently pulls out from under Tyler’s grip and tries to scoot away, but Tyler whines and clings to him again. Eyes now open, but lidded and tired. Foggy.
Shit. He needs to get out of here. Now.
“Tyler,” he starts, voice still rough with sleep, “you-need to-“
Tyler makes a sound deep in his throat. He’s still trying to hump Josh’s side. “Josh,” he whines. “Alpha. Why aren’t you helping? Help.”
Josh’s throat feels dry. He doesn’t say anything, because the more he falls into this trap, the sooner he’s going to be a father if he doesn’t keep his dick in his pants. He stumbles to his feet. Tyler does not like this.
“No,” he complains, reaching his hands out to grab at Josh weakly. “No. Don’t-don’t go.” His face is flushed and sweat is beading on his forehead. The smell of his heat is cloying. Debilitating. Josh can’t think with him like this. Josh can’t think at all seeing Tyler writhing in the cot-his cot-wearing his clothes, in his tent.
Josh sways in place for a moment before walking back. Just close enough that Tyler can touch. He knows this is dumb. He knows this is wrong. Tyler needs to ride his heat out. Not with him. His hands eagerly grasp Josh’s pant leg and he practically mewls.
“Please, please, please. Josh. Stay. Please.” He hoists himself up, and Josh is half scared he’s going to try and claw his way up his chest. Instead he buries his face into the crook of Josh’s neck and takes a deep inhale.
“Tyler-“
“So good,” Tyler murmurs. Eyes closed. He rubs himself all over Josh, and it hits him suddenly.
Tyler is scenting him. A softer, less permanent way of marking, but still detrimental to say the least. Something like this can trigger a rut in record speed.
“Tyler,” Josh whines, “I can’t. I really can’t. You gotta-you can’t d-do that-“ his hands linger awkwardly in mid-air because he knows if he touches Tyler-even if pushing him away-it’ll be over for the both of them.
Tyler keeps rubbing himself on him. He stands up, keeping Josh unbearably close. Nuzzling his neck, nipping at that special gland reserved for mates just to tease him. The fucker. Hands against his chest, tugging at his hoodie. He’s even purring, for God’s sake. It doesn’t take an idiot to realize how pent up both of them are, but this is…dangerous. Under the right circumstances, Josh would be more than happy to claim Tyler and force him down against the-
“Tyler,“ Josh gasps.
Those wandering hands have two fingers hooked into his belt loops now. Tyler looks up at him. Face flushed, t-shirt hanging off his shoulder. He’s probably not wearing anything underneath, Josh’s filthy mind whispers.
“Nico used to lock me up,” Tyler breathes. He can barely stop huffing Josh’s scent to speak. “During my-hah-heats. Hurt so bad. Josh. Joshh. Fuck, you smell so good.”
There’s a reason they put people on suppressants in Dema. It’s lost on Josh why Tyler was never included in this, but the pain of going through a heat alone must’ve been part of his punishment. He’s practically shaking, like he’s fighting tooth and nail to contain himself.
(He’s not doing a very good job, either.)
Being secluded for so long, just to be thrust into close proximity with the one person his body aches to mate with? There’s no way he’s walking out of here without being knotted. That’s what terrifies Josh.
Josh, who does nothing when Tyler pulls him back onto the cot, who stares with wide eyes and a tent in his cargos when he’s straddled. Who can’t see straight when Tyler grabs his wrist, bunches up his t-shirt, and guides his hand to his dripping, naked cunt. So. He was naked underneath.
“Fuck,” Josh says, eyebrows knitting together. Tyler’s burning up. Looking down at him with intent in his eyes. He moves his hips carefully, letting the pad of Josh’s finger collect the slick weeping from his hole.
This is wrong.
This is so, so wrong, and Josh is going to hell for not removing himself from this situation sooner.
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles, his own voice sounding far away to himself because all he can think about is how easy it’d be to sink into that fucking sopping cunt. Fuck. He’s so hard right now it hurts. “Jesus…”
Tyler starts to purr again. Grinds against Josh’s palm and mumbles incoherently. Drool coats his chin. His lips are raw and bitten red. “Alpha,” he sighs, trying to slip Josh’s fingers inside of himself. “Alpha-“
“No,” Josh sits up straighter. God, Tyler smells good. “No. Okay. No. Tyler.” He tries to steel himself and removes his hand. It takes every ounce of willpower inside of him not to lick it clean.
Tyler looks at him with big watery eyes. He’s flushed all the way down to his chest and he’s still wriggling in Josh’s lap. He looks like he’s one more denial away from bursting into tears.
Josh’s hands shake as they slide up his trembling legs to settle on his hips. He flips their positions, laying Tyler back onto the cot. Hovering above him, Josh stares into those pretty blown pupils. He’s intoxicating. He should’ve done this years ago. Now is the worst time to do it, but he does it anyway.
He kisses Tyler, and swallows all of those pathetic little sounds with a guttural moan. He’s burning up himself. Fuck. His rut is coming. He can feel it, and it’s all Tyler’s fault. Poor Tyler, who’s whimpering and kneading at him, trying to buck his hips up, trying to do anything to keep Josh here.
So Josh yanks himself away.
He licks the taste of Tyler off his lips, steps into his unlaced boots and fumbles with the tent zipper until he practically falls outside.
Josh sucks in the clean air when he stumbles out of the tent. He feels dirty. Tyler is all over him. In his nose, all over his clothing. He’s saturated with the smell of not just an Omega, but an Omega in heat.
He can hear Tyler start to wail inside the tent. He’s not even trying to be quiet about it. Of course, Josh’s tent is outside of the camp. Originally for safety purposes, he’s silently thankful that a majority of the camp won’t be able to hear Tyler’s desperate cries for attention.
But if anyone did hear…
Most are not as capable of controlling themselves as Josh is. A powerful Omega like Tyler, in a desperate heat and blinded by nature, it’s like a five-course meal served up on a silver platter.
Josh’s mouth waters.
Shamefully, he slips those two dirty fingers into his mouth and audibly moans at the drying taste of Tyler’s slick. God, he’s gross. He’s so fucking gross. This is dirty. He could turn around and get the real thing, bury his face between Tyler’s thighs and make him squirt on his tongue.
Or he could stand outside in the middle of winter with a boner and his own fingers in his mouth. The illusion of choice always just leads back into this fucking tent.
“Okay,” Josh says aloud. This was a mistake. This was a horrible, awful, dumb mistake that they-no, he, shouldn’t have made. He holds his hand out like it’s got poison on it. No more.
“Okay,” he says again. “I got this. Come on.” He shakes himself off. “I can do this. I’m the fucking camp leader, for God’s sake. Okay. Okay. Whatever. Wh-“
A cry from inside the tent cuts off his next thought.
Tyler’s sobbing and fumbling from inside the tent. Calling out Josh’s name. Pawing at the entrance flap, he can smell where his scented trail leads. He can not come out. If he does, they’re both fucked.
“M’so hot,” he whines, “Josh. It hurts, Josh. Please. Please.“
He can’t. He can’t. Josh takes another step away from the tent and runs a hand over his face. The cold helps. It numbs everything. He hears another keening moan and grits his teeth. He paces, and prays no one else is awake this early to see him so distressed. Surely, he’s putting off an insane amount of scents right now. Stress, hormones, the oncoming rut that’s about to hit him like a train.
He has to go back in. He can’t just leave Tyler in there. He’d be no better than Nico. He knows firsthand how painful it is to go through a cycle alone-he’s done it for as long as Tyler’s been locked up. Alone with no one but his hand and the image of the outlaw Clancy stuck in his head.
He’ll go back in, he decides. To help. That’s it. No…nothing for him. He’s strictly going to help Tyler. In a friendly, non-touchy, platonic…
“Joshh. Alpha-“
Oh, fuck it.
When Josh peeks inside of the tent, Tyler’s back on the cot with his t-shirt bunched up in one fist, holding it taut against his face. He’s sucking on it, inhaling the scent, doing everything he can to keep the idea of Josh close to him while his free hand sloppily fucks two fingers inside of himself.
Josh stands in the entrance, watches his best friend use his shirt to get off. His mind is still running hot. His entire body is running hot. Holy shit. There’s a moment where they just stare at each other.
Tyler’s eyes are glassy, but he knows what he’s doing. His fingers spread his cunt, and a thick drop of slick oozes between his thighs. Teasing. Marking this cot as his nest. Using Josh’s belongings to get off. This is fucked. There is no going back from this.
Josh toes his boots off.
He peels his hoodie from his soaked body and tosses it onto the cot because God knows Tyler will want another thing to fuck when he’s gone. (If he ever even leaves.)
It’s like a switch flips. Tyler sees Josh shedding his clothes and instantly moves onto his hands and knees. Face pressed into the damp pillow he’s been propped up on. Back arched. Cunt clenching around nothing as he spreads his legs. The natural position for breeding. Instinctive. Needy. He clutches the sheets and tries to present himself as the perfect candidate for Josh’s knot. He can’t mess this up.
“Jesus Christ,” Josh whispers.
Tyler moans, tries to bare his neck and show off his untouched glands. He is pure. He is clean. He is ripe and ready for Josh.
But he’s also not in his right mind. Josh can’t fuck him. He’ll never forgive himself if he did.
He can…he can still do something. Yeah. He can-he can touch. That’s not out of bounds. Right? That’s fine. That’s normal.
Josh feels like he’s in a trance when he steps to the cot. He strips his shirt off but keeps his pants on. He can’t afford not to. Tyler watches him like a hawk, stretching his head as far as it’ll go over his shoulder to keep his eyes on his Alpha.
Josh kneels behind him, mattress dipping with his weight, and kneads his hands into Tyler’s ass. His scent is overwhelming. Sweet and soft and so strong it’s almost too much. His slick is even more so. Pine and maple and milk. Alluring with the air of danger that constantly surrounds him.
Tyler’s shivering. Trying to keep it together, trying to be a good Omega. He actually sobs when Josh palms him, falling forward into the mattress as he rocks back against this saving grace.
“Please,” he begs, “please, please, Alpha. Please.”
Josh resists the urge to palm himself with his free hand. He slides two fingers into Tyler’s cunt with zero resistance. “I-I got you,” he says shakily. “Fuck, I got you, Tyler. Fuck.”
“Need more,” Tyler says, trying to push back. Trying to be full. “More. More.” Josh adds a third finger. Tyler groans with frustration. His own digits have never been enough, but even with Josh’s thick fingers curling up inside of him, it’s not hitting the right spot. He feels like he’s melting. Everything is so hot, too hot.
And then Josh goes and does the best thing he could do.
He removes his fingers, much to Tyler’s displeasure, and instead buries his face into that pretty, weeping cunt.
He feels his cock ooze something scarily similar to cum at the sound of Tyler’s delighted whine. But he can’t orgasm yet. He can’t. His knot belongs deep inside this fucking perfect cunt. He laps at the slick coating Tyler’s thighs. Bites his own marks over the splotchy red covering Tyler’s trembling body.
His hand slides up Tyler’s spine, pressing him down into an even deeper arch.
“So pretty,” Josh slurs. It would be romantic in any other setting, but right now it’s said within a haze of pure hunger. Animalistic need to breed and knot and mate. He slips two fingers back into Tyler’s fluttering cunt and listens to him sob. He can help like this. He can ease Tyler through his heat without ever taking his pants off. He can will away his rut and pretend like everything is fine.
He’s on autopilot. He can’t even tell when Tyler’s first orgasm approaches because he’s so far gone everything sends electric shocks through his body. Josh’s mind automatically thinks first orgasm because there’s no possible way he’s not going to rip as many as he can out of this gorgeous creature.
As if on cue, Tyler gets impossibly louder. Baring his neck again, trying to present. Mouths and fingers are great, but nowhere near the real thing. He needs teeth and blood and scents and cock.
“Fuck. Fuck, Alpha, Josh,” he wails. “M’cumming. Cumming-!”
Tyler’s body shakes. Slick gushes over Josh’s chin and his aching fingers.
Face pressed hard into the pillow, Tyler muffles his own cries that rip from his throat. Josh watches him clench tightly around his fingers a few times before he pulls away. Horribly, horribly empty once more.
“Oh my God,” Josh mumbles, panting. He licks his lips and it tastes like home. His heart is hammering out of his chest. He’s dizzy with lust. There’s no way he isn’t falling into a rut now. He feels something like guilt settle on his shoulders. Tyler’s still in heat, he’s vulnerable. This is wrong. He’s about to take advantage of something bad.
He has to get out of here.
Tyler catches his movement. Out of the corner of his eye. He’s quick, for someone acting so sluggish and fogged. He drags Josh back to the dampened cot, pupils still blown wide with animalistic instinct.
“Alpha,” he murmurs, clambering onto Josh’s lap. Holding him down. “Breed.” He rocks his naked hips back onto the bulge in Josh’s pants. Fuck. Leans down and nuzzles at his glands. Laps at his throat, sneaks a hand between his legs to unbutton and unzip and-
“Tyler,” Josh strangles out. “Wait. Wait.”
Tyler doesn’t wait. He’s in heat, he’s not thinking about self preservation. Not now. He’s in control, which isn’t really saying much, seeing as Josh is barely holding on to his last bit of coherency. He knows it’s wrong. They both know it’s wrong. Nothing good comes from letting yourself be controlled by these urges. That’s why they’ve invented scent blockers and hormones supplements and suppressants.
Tyler lets out a shuddering whimper when his fingers wrap around Josh’s cock. It twitches in his hand, oozing pre-cum and aching to fill an Omega’s hole.
“Oh, fffuck-“ Josh hisses. His hands fly to to Tyler’s waist. This is what’s going to tip him over. He can feel the pressure and the heat wash over him in waves. That same type of desperation he’d sit with alone in this same tent with Tyler’s name on his lips.
Successfully, unfortunately, Josh’s rut is here early.
Tyler can smell it. Of course he can. He’s drowning in his scent. They both are. Drunk on each other. Josh’s hands are squeezing his hips tight, trying to slow his movements. Keep him at bay. Tyler’s not having that.
“Baby,” he tries, breathless, vision blurring. “Wait.” He could turn this all over right now. Tyler’s an Omega. What is he doing on top? Why is Josh letting him take control right now? If he let himself go, he’d have him bent over and taking his knot within seconds.
Tyler just…has that effect on him.
A trembling hand slides up his chest to his throat, and Tyler makes sure their eye contact is permanent when he sinks himself down onto Josh’s cock. Lips parted, eyebrows knit. His thighs tremble until he seats himself all the way down.
“Tyler-” Josh chokes. It’s too much. There’s no room to think or breathe or even try to keep himself under control. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He shouldn’t have let it get this far. He pants open-mouthed at the ceiling. But God, it feels so good.
“Yeah,” Tyler purrs, peeling the oversized t-shirt from his lanky body. He’s barely even gotten over the torture from Dema. Still filling back out. His ribs are visible, but his stomach isn’t eating itself and he’s even got some fat on his thighs again.
Josh thinks he’s fucking beautiful. Josh wants to eat him alive.
The air is thick and pungent with the scent of slick and sweat and sex. Tyler doesn’t move. He knows this is where Josh takes control. He’s already gotten what he wanted. Now he just has to wait.
It takes approximately 10.3 seconds before Josh flips them over and bends Tyler in half. But who’s counting?
This is it. This is the moment, here. Josh’s brain knows there’s no more talking himself out of this, now. He’s balls deep in Tyler’s perfect cunt and there’s nowhere he’d rather be than right here.
Growling, he holds Tyler’s thighs up. No more softness. He leans down, teeth bared but not biting quite yet, over Tyler’s throat as he starts to fuck into him hard. He needs this. They both need this.
“Yes,” Tyler gasps. His nails dig into Josh’s shoulders, legs wrap around his waist. He’s locked into place, forcing him to go deeper with every thrust. “Yes, yes, Josh, Alpha, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Josh doesn’t consider himself a typical Alpha. He is not controlling, despite being the leader of the Banditos. Most of the time he’s mistaken for a Beta due to his collected nature. He prides himself on that.
“Take it,” he snaps, and the cot jolts underneath them. “Fucking take it. Fuck.”
…right.
Tyler yowls, and he won’t stop leaning his head back to allow Josh full access to his neck. He won’t stop. This-this can’t happen, it just…it can’t…
“Alpha,” he says, voice raw. “Please. Mate. Knot. Breed.” The collective vocabulary of the both of them right now amounts to probably ten words total. There is no time for small talk, or even colloquial conversation. This is primitive. They do not speak with words, but actions.
Josh registers those words though. His mind is focused on the same thing. Breed. Knot. Mate.
“Need my knot,” he mutters mindlessly. He’s in a trance. Fucking into Tyler like he knows he wants it. “Need my pups. Yeah?”
“Need,” Tyler agrees drunkenly, nodding. He’s completely dumb. Nothing but a puddle in Josh’s hand, milking his cock so he can get pregnant and satisfy the hormones raging through his body for eight months until it’s time to do it again. Over and over and over.
The thought makes Josh stutter. Tyler, full of his pups. Waddling around smelling like him. Wearing his clothes all the time. Fat and pregnant and warm. Everything scented like milk. Their legacy, passed down through generations because they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
What a story to tell, huh?
Josh curls his lip, feels himself start to drool when Tyler pull him down into a kiss. It’s just a gateway to their respective scent glands. Tyler’s trying to push it. But he knows he can’t do it first. Josh has to claim him. The Alpha takes the initiative.
Tyler doesn’t have to beg for it to be obvious. His throat is a deep shade of red, and every change he gets he cranes his neck to expose the tender glands. Innocent. Virgin and pure, yet offered up so easily to him and only him.
Josh sucks in the saliva pooling in his mouth. He can’t stop thinking about sinking his teeth into soft flesh. He bites down on his lip to bide the thought, and ends up tasting his own blood instead. Fangs aching for an Omega’s.
Tyler’s own fangs are helplessly put on display as his jaw falls slack. He’s so full. His body is teeming with the need to be bred. He needs to carry pups, he needs to carry Josh’s pups. “Josh,” he pants, “please. Please.”
Josh knows his knot is expanding. Slowly. He’s getting close. He wants it so bad, it’s terrifying. He wants a family-of course he wants a family. It’s in his blood. He’s wanted one for a long time. But is now really the time to act on this?
Tyler’s back arches off the sheets, hands reaching blindly to shove Josh’s face into his scent glands again. “Please,” he sobs. “Alpha. Mate. Please.” He’s overwhelming. Everything about him. Josh doesn’t have to be asked twice, he wants to spend the rest of his life with Tyler.
So he feels himself nearly black out when his teeth sink into Tyler’s throat.
It’s a burst of heat and blood and energy. The claiming mark that’s sealing them together forever. Josh growls against the bloodied tissue while he fucks into Tyler. It feels good. It feels natural. Feels complete. It steadies him through the messy thrusts.
Tyler cums underneath him, tears streaming down his cheeks. Are they happy? Or pulled from him due to the pleasure? It doesn’t matter. Josh leans down to bow his head and reveal his own neck.
Fuck.
Fireworks. Stars. A million lifetimes flash behind Josh’s eyes when Tyler claims him. He groans in pain, feels his knot swell as Tyler laps at the blood oozing from his neck. Soft. Gentle. There’s pain that comes from this, but a sweet tenderness that consumes him too.
Tyler’s mating mark is torn tissue and puncturing teeth marks, but the bite on Josh’s throat is different. It stings. Deep. It’s an ache he can feel all the way down to his bones. His bite might be superficially painful, but Tyler’s has the emotional charge behind it to keep Josh padding behind him for life.
“Mine,” Tyler whispers hoarsely. “Mate.” He sucks in a breath. Josh’s cock twitches with his orgasm, filling Tyler’s womb full. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. He’s so full. It feels amazing. He’s never gotten to feel this before. Every cycle being nothing but loneliness and pain, now replaced by the closest thing to heaven…
In the haze, Josh’s eyes readjust and he looks down at the mess beneath him. A beautiful mess. Red-rimmed eyes and shaky fingers caressing his face. Tyler’s heat has broken, but he doesn’t look like he regrets anything. Josh is still reeling. He experimentally rolls his hips and shudders from the sensitivity. His rut is-well, he doesn’t really know, actually. He’s still clouded.
Tyler just smiles sleepily. “Hey.”
“I’m sorry,” Josh blurts out. “I shouldn’t-I. Fuck. I shouldn’t have uh. Stayed. Um.” It all comes crashing down on him at once. What he’s done. He and Tyler are mates now. Forever. That’s a long ass time.
“Hey. Hey, whoa. No. It’s okay.” Tyler laughs, but he barely has a voice anymore. “It’s okay. I…wanted it. With you, anyway. I knew I wanted it with you. Heat or no heat.”
“You’re sure?”
“Don’t be stupid.” He frowns. “Josh. Seriously. Who else would I want to mate with?”
“I dunno…you’re fairly popular, I mean, you know-“
“You’re an idiot.” He leans up to kiss Josh’s nose. “It’s always been you.”
Josh sighs. God, he’s so in love. “Okay,” he mumbles. He leans down again. Tyler smells like him. A mixture of their scents. Pine and cinnamon and honey and hazelnut and smoke. “Okay. Okay.” He nuzzles at the mark. His mark. On Tyler’s neck. He still can’t believe it. He is Tyler’s. And Tyler is his, and there is no one else.
“There is, um. One thing.” Tyler smiles, but it’s more of a grimace.
Josh’s own smile instantly drops. “What?” He straightens up and searches Tyler’s eyes. “What? Did I hurt you?”
“No. No, nothing like that.” Tyler hesitates. Narrows his eyes. “But, you did…knot me.”
Oh. Oh yeah.
“Oh my God.”
“Well,” he says sheepishly, “that’s kinda what comes with the whole rut and heat and everything. It’s not like you could help i-“
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Josh interrupts, face turning red. “I just-forgot. Shit. I’m sorry. Is that-are you, I mean, we, are we ready for that?”
The air turns uncertain. It’s weird, now. He always could tell what Tyler was thinking because they just knew each other that well, but now, as mates, he can smell it. Feel it.
“We’ll be okay,” Tyler offers. “I’m okay if I’m with you. It’ll be okay, I think.” He trails his fingernails up and down Josh’s arm.
“And if Nico…?”
“I don’t wanna think about that right now.” He says it with finality. None of that. “I just wanna think about you, and me, and staying here. And carrying your pups…”
“Multiple? As in plural? You want like, a lot?”
“If you’ll have me.” Oh, that really does something. Tyler rubs Josh’s bicep, then pauses.
“Josh.”
“Mm?”
“Are you hard again?”
Josh buries his face in his neck. “No,” he says, embarrassed. He very much is. Knot now deflated, his cock still twitches inside of Tyler.
“You are! You’re totally hard thinking about me being pregnant. You little freak.”
“No!” Josh groans “I just, I really like you-“
“I’m flattered.”
“-and thinking about you, carrying my pups, and, having you all to myself, and just…you…”
If Josh could be any more in love, he’d have big cartoon hearts for eyes and a tail thumping against the mattress.
Tyler pouts. “Okay, okay. I guess you’re not a little freak. All the way.” He wraps his arms around Josh. “But. You gotta let me go first. I need to freshen up. I just got out of heat, remember? I feel like I just ran ten marathons.”
Josh mumbles, “yeah, heat that didn’t even last a day…”
“What was that?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Uh huh.” Tyler pushes Josh off of him. “You are not the lap dog you think you are, by the way,” he grunts, then gets pulled back down by his waist. “Let me gooo. I need to pee,” he laughs.
Josh noses at his tender mating mark again. “Sorry,” he says, “just…wanted to smell you again. Smells good.”
Tyler scratches his head and presses a kiss to his sweaty hair. “Smells like you,” he notes.
“Mhm.”
He finally detaches himself, but there’s not a moment Josh’s eyes aren’t on him. He can feel them. Just watching. In awe. Thank God his heat triggered before Josh got wise. Tyler’s been wanting this for years. Being without a mate and untouched is dangerous. In this place, it’s almost detrimental. Nico knows how to play sick games. Being locked down both physically and emotionally has its advantages.
Tyler knew that it would be hard to convince Josh to mate, but there’s not a second he’d ever even think about regretting this.
Especially not when he’s got more than one life to protect now.