STORY EXCERPT

The guy nodded before Wesley once again headed toward the counter. Each step felt like a sharp needle was plunging into the sole of his foot, the pain radiating all the way up his leg and curling around his hip.

By the time he made it to where he’d left their drinks, Wesley was coated in a fine sheen of sweat and taking shallow breaths.

Definitely a bad day and getting worse. He curled his hand around the edge of the counter, lifting his leg to take some of the pressure off of it.

“Hey, Mike,” Wesley said when he spotted the parttime employee who pitched in wherever needed. “Can you take these drinks to the table with the couple?”

Looking past Wesley, Mike squinted until his blue eyes had become slits. Did the guy need glasses? “There’s several tables with couples, Wes.”

How many times had he asked Mike not to call him that? It was the name his dad used when he was in one of his foul moods. Jackson Miller had ruined the nickname for Wesley.

“The one with the dude wearing the black shirt.” Wesley grimaced, the pain still not easing even though he stood with one leg raised like he was about to perform a kick to someone’s chest. 

“Yeah, all right, but you owe me.” Mike grabbed the drinks and walked around him, wearing an expression that said Wesley could’ve done it himself.

How did he owe the guy just for carrying drinks to a table? And if Wesley could have done it himself, he would have. He hated relying on other people, and Mike’s attitude made him feel like a burden.

As soon as he walked away, Wesley limped to the side room that held the utility sink and a hodgepodge of items Cyrus, the owner, stored in there. It was basically an oversized closet, but it afforded Wesley the privacy he needed to pull out his prescription bottle of pain killers.

He didn’t like taking them while he was at work, but the pain in his leg was getting worse the longer he walked on it. On the large metal storage shelf was a bag of plastic cups tucked among an array of other things. Wesley wrestled one free and filled it with water from the sink then downed two pills.

They usually took effect within thirty minutes, which meant he had another half an hour of pain to deal with.

After tossing the cup into the small trash can, he limped out of the room and headed straight toward his stool, still thinking about Mike’s expression.

The guy knew Wesley had a limp, though he didn’t know why. Only Cyrus did, but even his boss had no idea how he’d been injured.

Wesley hadn’t gone into details when he’d applied for the job, though he’d brought the letter from his doctor with him. It gave a generic description of his disability, which Wesley had done on purpose.

That was one good thing about developing a friendship with his doctor of two years. He could ask Dr. Baldwin to do him small favors. Wesley didn’t want everyone knowing the tragedy he’d survived. It was no one’s business.

With everyone in the dining area taken care of, Wesley set to work slicing fresh mushrooms on the lower half of the raised bar counter. Normally, this task would be done in the kitchen behind him, but Cyrus had made exceptions for Wesley due to his difficulty standing for long periods of time. Although it was a simple task, it brought Wesley a sense of calm.

Cyrus took pride in using only the best and freshest ingredients in his pizzas and other menu items, evident by the incredible flavors that filled every bite. Wesley had gained at least three pounds since he’d started working there a month ago.

That might seem like an insignificant number, but it wasn’t to him. Since the “incident” two years ago, Wesley struggled to gain weight. Between his medications, dealing with Jackson, and his own fluctuating moods, he rarely had an appetite.

 His hand stilled when he felt eyes on him. With a frown, he glanced up to find a man standing there, his beefy arms crossed on the upper portion of the raised counter. His smoky-gray eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Never startle someone with a sharp knife in their hand,” the stranger said with a teasing smile. His deep voice was like honey dripping over velvet, and Wesley was instantly in lust with the sound.

“Um, one moment.” Setting his knife aside, Wesley lifted the small cutting board and scraped the sliced mushrooms into a small food pan then covered it with a lid.

“What can I get for you?” Curling his lips in to hide his grimace, Wesley stood. The pain wasn’t as bad, but it still shot through his leg.

The stranger stood to his full height, which was impressively tall.

When Wesley finally got a good look at the stranger, he found himself staring at raw, unfiltered masculinity. Holy crap. The man’s dark hair was styled in a tousled cut, and his face held sharp contours in his cheekbones and jawline. 

Wesley’s gaze slid lower, skimming over a physique of sculpted muscles. Good lord. Could the guy’s T-shirt stretch any harder over his mouthwatering body?

Stop eye-banging his muscles. 

Ripping his eyes away from the stranger’s chest, Wesley stared into his smoky-gray eyes. The man’s smile vanished, and now he just stood there gazing at Wesley as if hypnotized.

Suddenly, Wesley felt as if he’d known this man forever. It was a strange feeling, but it was there, in the center of his chest.

“Sir?” Wesley had no idea why he felt that way. “What can I get for you?” he repeated.

“Do you need me to smack you in the back of the head to reboot your brain?” the guy next to Smoky Eyes asked.

Wesley just now noticed someone else was standing there. The two shared enough similar features that he assumed they were related.

“You can get me your phone number, handsome,” Smoky Eyes said with a sexy grin that flattened Wesley. It was the kind of smile that granted him instant access to a lot of erotic fantasies.

ADULT EXCERPT

“Excuse the mess.” Hyett placed his hands on Wesley’s waist and guided him toward the bed. “I didn’t get a chance to clean.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Wesley sat on the edge of the bed with a grimace. His side still hurt like hell. What he wouldn’t give to repay Seth in the same way. “I have just as many clothes scattered around my room, and I think I left dishes sitting on the floor by my dresser.”

Glancing up, Wesley saw a large canvas above the bed depicting some kind of cityscape, the color washed in sepia. In addition to the glass doors, there were also large windows that let in natural light.

“This is an amazing bedroom,” he commented as Hyett began to put away the stacks of clothes from his bed. “You don’t have to clean up because of me. Honestly, my bedroom could use a cleaning service compared to yours.”

Wesley’s wasn’t that messy, but he didn’t want Hyett to feel embarrassed. The only people who probably had spotless bedrooms were the ones who actually had a cleaning service or housekeeper. Two things Wesley couldn’t afford.

But he liked Hyett’s messiness because it offset Wesley’s feeling that he was too broke to date a guy who could afford such a fancy home.

Since Hyett kept cleaning, Wesley grabbed the remote off the nightstand and turned on the television. He became lost in the baking reality show but was fully aware of Hyett moving around the room. When he grabbed the dirty dishes and walked out, Wesley kicked off his shoes and eased onto the bed.

Just for a moment, he closed his eyes, but when he opened them, the room was bathed in darkness and there was a solid, warm wall of heat at his back.

As carefully as he could, trying to minimize the pain, Wesley turned over then settled. He gazed at the man who was coming to mean so much to him. Since they’d met, Hyett had been there for him, looking out for him in all the ways that mattered.

Hyett’s eyes slid open, as if he’d felt someone watching him. Then he reached out and brushed aside the hair from Wesley’s forehead. “What a sight to behold when I open my eyes. How are you feeling?” His thumb brushed tenderly over Wesley’s cheek.

“Still sore.” Staring into Hyett’s smoky eyes made something close to love blossom inside of Wesley, and he knew in that moment, this was the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

His mate.

Wesley slid his fingers through Hyett’s silky hair, watching as his mate’s eyes closed and a satisfied smile tipped the corners of his lips. He really was gorgeous, and made Wesley burn for just one touch, one caress from his strong hands.

Before he lost his nerve, he dipped his head and licked a long path from collarbone to earlobe. The skin was salty, but the scent reminded Wesley of rough leather and spice, something wild and untamed.

The man groaned then softly sighed. Wesley ran his lips over Hyett’s strong jaw, smiling and aroused at the stubble grazing across his mouth. When he moved back toward Hyett’s chin, Wesley took a chance and grazed his lips over his mate’s, just a whisper of a touch, but enough to feel Hyett’s warm breath tickle his skin.

Please don’t reject me again. Hyett might have explained why he’d pulled away earlier, but the fear still remained. Wesley was damaged, and his mate was possibly the most breathtaking man he’d ever seen in his life.

Hyett turned his head, deepening the kiss. It was a consuming, dominating caress of lips. Wesley began to tremble, clutching Hyett’s arms, a smoldering mess of heat and need.

Something pressed into Wesley’s stomach. Hyett was hard, and getting harder with every stroke of their lips.

“I want to taste you,” Hyett said against Wesley’s mouth. His mate pulled away and reached for the button on Wesley’s pants.

He grabbed Hyett’s wrists to stop him as his heart beat wildly. Wesley’s bravado vanished, leaving him a mess of self-doubts and fears. 

“What is it?” Hyett’s brows knitted together as he searched Wesley’s eyes.

“My leg.” Wesley couldn’t stop hearing the rando’s cruel words in his head or remembering the horrified expression he’d worn that night.

It would kill him if Hyett looked at him the same way.

“Please, will you trust me?” He extracted his wrists from Wesley’s death grip. “You’ve trusted me this far. Don’t stop now.”

They stared at each other as Hyett unfastened Wesley’s pants, and then slid them down his trembling thighs.

“Trust me,” Hyett whispered. Wesley closed his eyes, bracing himself when his mate slid down his body, taking Wesley’s pants and underwear with him. Hyett settled between his legs then shouldered them apart.

Wesley’s eyes flew open when he felt warm kisses on his inner thigh.

Hyett was kissing his scars. He wasn’t horrified or calling Wesley all kinds of vile monsters. His breathing turned shallow as Hyett tenderly kissed and licked the skin as if it was flawless instead of a hideous mess.

Then he sucked Wesley’s cock down his throat, using his tongue to trace the heavy vein. The feeling was so incredible it was a wonder Wesley didn’t come right then and there. The way Hyett’s throat worked with each swallow drove Wesley insane.

“God, yes. Feels so….” His eyes slid shut as his mate turned him into nothing more than needy groans and hot aches. Wesley’s breath hitched when wet fingers worked their way inside his ass, stretching him until he feared he would start drooling.

Hyett’s talented mouth popped off Wesley’s cock then moved lower, licking a long line from the base of his prick to his balls. Hyett licked, sucked, and nibbled at his sac until Wesley couldn’t take it any longer, his cock throbbing painfully for release.