Chapter Three

One Week Later

 

His plan had been simple…and illogical.

Intending to be simply two bros hanging out and jerking off, Gale had misjudged the importance of what they had shared. It seemed Jude had stumbled upon a hidden well of need he’d never explored. When Gale had suspected Jude was repressed sexually and emotionally because of how Vihaan and E’Boolou functioned, he’d never imagined it would be so intense.

Watching Jude lose his inhibitions, surrender his orgasm into Gale’s hands, and trust him to provide care reached a dangerous high, adding another layer to the bond they’d begun building.

That night, Gale had put Jude to bed and let him sleep. The next morning, Jude wouldn’t make eye contact. At breakfast, Rylee announced Eliseo had been injured while tracking a potential exile, and they were advised against leaving the house.

Within twenty-four hours, the storm Jude’s article had predicted came into effect and no one could leave. They hunkered in and grew twitchy as Drew took care of Eliseo and banned visitors from his room. Eventually, Rylee discovered his injuries came from rescuing the exile from a mugging, and the team’s restriction would be lifted once the storm passed.

The storm took its toll as they spent a week alone in the house, doing little more than paperwork, tracking the last of the exiles, or watching mind-numbing TV.

Gale had better ideas. When Jude refused to acknowledge him or look him in the eye, he made the most of the forced proximity.

On day two, he’d given one of the frat brothers the finger at dinner, caught Jude’s eye, and licked the digit from root to tip. The poor guy had rushed to the bathroom—probably for solo playtime.

On day four, he crept up on Jude as he washed dishes in the kitchen and pressed tight against that fine ass. Jude had fumbled the plate, nearly smashing it. Dragging a hand over Jude’s stomach, tugging his T-shirt over his head, Gale had politely informed Jude he was going for a shower, leaving him with the mental image.

On day seven, the rain refused to surrender, as relentless and determined as Gale, and it was time to raise the stakes.

Ignoring the rain, Gale retreated to the far end of the garden, searching for a tranquil spot to enjoy a smoke in the hope Jude would be more receptive with the illusion of privacy. He’d stolen the last of Jude’s fottai and hung out under a tree, waiting, dressed for the heat in basketball shorts and no shirt. The rain was warm, different from days ago when it cut like ice.

After five minutes, Jude appeared in a similar outfit, the result of an indoor basketball game, except he’d thrown on his T-shirt. “What did you do with my smokes?” he asked, gruff and ice cold.

Gale raised an eyebrow at the tone and took a drag, refusing to speak when Jude was in a foul mood.

Rolling his eyes, Jude took the cigarette from Gale’s hand and put it to his lips before leaning against the tree.

It wasn’t worth wasting a good smoke to resist. “Do you find me repulsive?” Gale pulled a spare cigarette from his waistband.

Coughing on his drag, Jude scowled. “What?”

“I’m asking—” He leaned in to light his smoke from Jude’s cigarette. “—if you find me repulsive. I mean, getting you off doesn’t make you my bitch. We had a good time.” Gale wouldn’t show his hand early, as Jude may not have sensed the bond forming. “You’ve been avoiding me.” And Jude was being a coward.

“I haven’t been—” Jude knew better than to finish. He took a drag, blew out the smoke, and shook his head. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“I was—” Again, he was smart not to spell out his vulnerability. “To play the bisexual video. Why didn’t you choose straight porn?”

Gale watched Jude closely as he answered, “You wouldn’t have enjoyed it.” To reassure Jude he wasn’t willing to lie, he explained, “I have eyes. I see you staring at me. I feel your eyes on me. I can feel you when you’re near me.”

Jude gulped, clearly swallowing the lie on the tip of his tongue, so evident from the guilt in his eyes. To help resist the temptation to find more lies, Gale threw his cigarette into the rain pooling around their feet and added Jude’s cigarette.

Jude dropped his gaze to whisper, “You weren’t supposed to know.”

“How was I not supposed to know, when your eyes have been on me every second we’ve been here? Are you ashamed of me?”

“No.” Those eyes rose to claim his, defiant and angry. “But I don’t know if I want…this…either,” Jude insisted, gesturing between them.

“Why not?” Gale caught Jude by the neck and stepped close, bringing them chest to chest. “Because I’m not a skinny pretty-boy you can dominate?” he asked, knowing that would be acceptable in Vihaan. “What is it about me that scares you?”

Jude ground his teeth and pushed at his chest, jaw tightening when Gale brought his free hand to his neck to strengthen his grip. Thumping a fist against his chest, Jude barked, “The way you look at me.”

That wasn’t the answer he was expecting.

Dropping his hands to the waistband of Jude’s shorts, he tugged. The little bastard shoved him and tried to step back. Gale wound the fabric around his fist and pulled hard, making Jude stumble.

Taking a fistful of hair in one hand, he kept hold of the shorts with the other and let his fingers slip behind the band to the bare skin beneath. “Go ahead and fight me. Show me how strong you are,” he urged, eager for a good tussle in the rain. He hadn’t had a fight in ages, and his blood was singing, itching for a worthy opponent. Only, this time, the reward would be sweeter than winning.

“Fuck you.” Jude grabbed his hand and tried to shove it away.

“You wish!” Gale nipped at Jude’s bottom lip, full and glistening. The brat shoved, putting space between them as he tried to twist free. Two could play that game.

With a sharp tug and a twist of his arm, he had Jude backed against him, one arm around his chest, the other across his hips. He whispered, licking Jude’s earlobe as he fought the urge to do more, “You’re the one craving dick. You can bet your sweet ass the only dick you’re taking is mine.”

If he couldn’t scent the distinctive and unmistakable spike of lust and need between them, he’d think Jude didn’t want him. But he felt the bond, how deeply they connected—no denying it, no fighting. A bond disappeared when it was refused, and Jude wasn’t about to refuse, no matter how hard he fought.

A shiver rippled through Jude, and he momentarily sagged in Gale’s hold, tilting his head to flick his tongue against Gale’s jaw. Tempted, Gale caught a plump lip in his mouth and sucked.

In a flash, Jude spun and dug fingers into Gale’s hair, feeding on his mouth like he’d been starved. Gale tugged him closer, blood sizzling, temperature rising, heart pounding as they stood in the rain and devoured each other like savages. Long fingers tugged his hair, and Jude’s lips drifted down his neck, a welcome temptation to bite.

About to suggest he leave a mark, his feet were swept from under him and Jude backed away to crouch in the sodding grass.

A fucking leg sweep. If he thought that would beat Gale, he was mistaken.

Gale flipped onto all fours and caught a bare ankle, pulling hard. Jude thudded into the grass, and Gale was on his feet before Jude could get off the ground.

“You think I’ll roll over and take it?” Jude brushed wet hair from his eyes, stood, and took a relaxed fighting stance. “Fuck you and your plans for a clandestine fuck. You can keep your what happens in Dnara stays there bullshit.”

Interesting. He honestly thought Gale was dipping his dick into the gay pot while he was in a place where the rest of the pack couldn’t see. What a prick.

“Come on, baby. Put me in my place,” he goaded, moving into a matching stance, urging Jude to let out the repressed rage, anger, and hurt from the way the pack had treated him. The frustration and sexual tension he’d been holding at bay. If he could give Gale everything, he might be nice and tell him about the bond.

Knowing better than to get close, Jude aimed a spinning kick at his abdomen, unprepared when Gale caught his ankle and spun him. Tugging to wrap Jude’s leg around his waist, he pulled Jude to his chest. “You can do better.” He kissed Jude’s neck and shoved him away, giving distance, space, room to breathe. Waiting for the next attack. Jude had got his blood pumping, and he was eager for action after a long week of frustration and captivity.

As adorable as Jude was, he was knocked off balance. Gale caught every punch and retaliated with a kiss to the knuckles, to his shoulder, the back of the neck. Anywhere.

After half an hour of dancing, they knelt in the sodden grass, rain falling. He had Jude in his favourite position, strong back to his chest, an arm around his throat to keep him compliant.

“You want it?” Gale nipped at his earlobe as Jude panted. He was close, almost past the anger and the fighting. He needed one more push over the edge. “Come on, baby.” He shoved his hand down the front of Jude’s soaked shorts to wrap around his thick cock. “Come for me, and I’ll let you suck me.”

Jude gasped and fingers dug into his thigh as Gale stroked, unrelenting. A strangled sound emerged as Jude dropped his hand to Gale’s, caressing rather than pushing. “Why don’t you suck me?”

Thrilled he remained a brazen shit after their fight, Gale nuzzled his neck. “You lost,” he answered honestly, dragging teeth over the bare flesh of his neck. “If you can beat me, I’ll suck you. Until then, you owe me a load.”

“Fuck.” Jude shuddered and arched, fingers searching for Gale’s hair to grip tight. “More,” he urged, canting his hips into Gale’s strokes.

Those were the only two words he spoke, hissed and demanding. As Gale jacked him off, Jude let loose a chorus of shaky whispers as he came hard, moaning pleas as Gale kissed him deeply and encouraged Jude to return the favour, his hand moving slowly, teasing over his cock.

He could go his whole life never hearing any other words from his lips.

*

Later, they shucked their clothes and crept in the back door naked. A few of the guys watching TV had a good smirk as they passed on their way to the stairs. Though Gale hated the laziness of TV, the team had been classed as weird because they clung to the ways of Vihaan, while the frat brothers had shunned the old ways.

Jude couldn’t look anyone in the eye, but Gale ignored the subtle shame he showed that shouldn’t exist between mates. He was wet, cold, and the only clothes he had were covered in mud and come. As he stepped into his bedroom, he tossed the clothes into the laundry basket and headed for the bathroom.

Jude didn’t join him.

Gale showered alone, scrubbed his hair, and dressed in loose joggers. Jude then disappeared into the bathroom, avoiding his gaze, and left the same way. He dressed in a T-shirt and boxers, walked out of the room, and didn’t return for three hours.

No doubt he was sitting with the guys to watch TV. The frat brothers had been trying to convert the team into couch potatoes. Gale wasn’t interested. He would go home to his annex and books with no TV, eventually. There was no point getting attached when he couldn’t keep up the habit.

He was halfway through a paperback when Jude returned. Another three chapters in when he realised Jude was shivering under the covers in his bed.

“What’s wrong?” He read to the end of the page, licking a finger to turn the page.

“I don’t like it.” Jude hitched the duvet higher when a rumble of thunder shattered the sky. “This weather is violent. Wrong.”

Gale glanced at the window with its curtain wide open. The sky was a horrid shade of blue-black, a violent bruise on the world. The storm had raged for a week with high winds and torrential rain. This was the worst, with thunder having started over two hours ago, the first lightning flash following an hour later.

This was either the eye of the storm or the dying last breath.

He wasn’t sure what their fight from earlier meant, or whether Jude’s submission had been temporary, but he couldn’t ignore Jude quaking in fear of a storm—one their world wouldn’t see until the rain seasons, during which they spent safely encased in their homes.

“Come here,” he called, turning another page at the end of the chapter.

Jude made the smart choice, throwing the cover aside to drag his ass across the room. Gale shifted to make room and lifted the duvet. When Jude slipped in, Gale shoved him down to the middle of the bed intending to have him settle between his legs, as lying side by side would result in someone falling off the skinny bed.

Jude swatted at his hand. “Fuck off,” he snapped, confusion warring with anger.

“If I wanted you to suck me, I’d tell you to put your fucking mouth on my cock,” Gale grumbled, disappointed Jude didn’t know better. “Go to sleep.”

Once Jude lowered to the bed in surprise, Gale used a leg to guide him into the middle of the mattress and put his book aside long enough to place a pillow over his crotch. “I’ll put the light out when I’m done.”

With an “Oh!” of realisation, Jude lay his head on the pillow. He shuffled into position and didn’t argue when Gale tucked a leg along his back. Jude hugged the pillow, brushing fingers against Gale’s inner thigh. He finally snuffled and slung his leg over Gale’s ankle, settling in, getting comfortable, connecting.

Gale ran fingers through Jude’s hair, appreciating the faith it took to accept his offer, to know he’d be safe, to find comfort in his presence. It reminded him of when Yosi would climb into his bed during the rain seasons. Yeah, he could have suggested they go to Jude's larger bed, but where was the fun in that? Here, he had a chance to force Jude to get close, to see if the proximity would inspire a reaction, and if their closeness could break past the final barriers Jude had raised between them.

For four chapters, Gale brushed fingers over Jude’s shoulder and listened to the storm rage. When he put the light out, he couldn’t resist shuffling down a bit to curl tight around Jude, leg between Jude’s, making the most of the close proximity. With his nose tucked at the back of Jude’s ear, he fell asleep to the rumble of thunder and the comforting rise and fall of steady breathing beneath his hand.