Bloodlines

Evin had been cocky as hell in front of Mason. But the truth was, he was anxious as shit.

A year had passed since his father had banished him from the pack and he'd moved to Dover. Twelve months of jacking off alone in his bed. And the loneliness was driving him out of his mind. But no one in town had even piqued his interest, and a string of anonymous one-night stands wasn't Evin's thing. They had a nasty tendency of making an empty bed feel even colder.
There was something different about Mason, though. The human definitely piqued his interest. From the moment Mason had walked into his bay, Evin had been coiled so tight and his dick so hard, he was surprised he'd been able to form a coherent sentence. The spicy scent of Mason's skin made his blood hot. The way those damn linen pants hugged Mason's ass when he moved had Evin's cock aching for release. Shit. No other guy had ever got under his skin so quick before. But it had been all Evin could do to keep a handle on his control and not grab the man by the back of his head, spin him around, and fuck him until Mason knew who he belonged to. Whoa. Where the hell had that come from? He shook his head.

Evin turned left on Highway 211, heading out of town and toward his cottage. After rounding a curb, he pulled onto the shoulder and set the brake.

"Why are we stopping?"

"If I turn around now, there's a hotel about two miles in the other direction." Evin pivoted in his seat and faced Mason. Even though the moon served as the car's only source of illumination, Evin's perfect night vision allowed him to drink in the rich hue of Mason's dark eyes. A striking contrast to the short layers of golden blond hair that shimmered under the beams of moonlight. Evin tightened his hand around the leather-covered steering wheel. He had to, or in the next second, his fingers would be wrapped in those locks, and he'd be finding out if they were as soft as they looked. But he knew one touch would never be enough to satisfy the craving about to drive him out of his mind.

"Is that what you want, Evin? Would you rather I choose the other end of the road tonight?"

Yes. Because I've got a bad feeling you're going to be a taste I'll never get enough of.

No. Because I think I'll go crazy if I don't touch you.

"I think it's pretty clear what I want." Evin reached out and trailed a forefinger along Mason's cheek. The coarse sensation of Mason's shadow of a beard shot through Evin's skin like a bolt of lust aimed straight for his cock, forcing him to bite back a hiss of pleasure. Mason turned into his touch, then took Evin's finger knuckle-deep inside his mouth.

And sucked.

Evin couldn't hold back the groan that emanated from his throat. "Tell me what you want, Mason. Say it." With a final swipe of his tongue over the tip, Mason released his finger with a pop.

"I want you to fuck me."