Page 2 of Labor of Love

A perfect V shape.

Kind brown eyes.

West could have easily ditched him to hang with the cool kids, but he never had.

He’d stayed.

And he’d only gotten more handsome with time.

Never really less awkward, though. The weird kid who’d been ostracized from his peers was still just as weird as an adult—the difference now was that people were able to overlook his odd behavior now that he was hot.

In certain situations, West was able to slip into what Luca called “rich person mode,” which involved a lot of empty smiling and meaningless quips about one thing or the other—mostly art, which was West’s specialty—but sometimes other rich people things, like golf or theater. West had learned how to operate in those elite spheres after enough exposure to them, but when it came to day-to-day interactions, he was a bit more stilted.

Uncertain.

Sometimes it felt like he didn’t quite get how to be a human, but that didn’t bother Luca. West was just West. He just happened to be Hawaiian pizza when everyone else was pepperoni.

During the times when West was most uncertain about what to do in a situation, he often froze until someone he trusted took the lead, which was why when he remained standing by the bedside, Luca gave his arm a gentle tug. He was nowhere near strong enough to knock someone as big as West off his feet, but that wasn’t the goal. With that simple touch, he snapped West out of his paralysis and sent him into action.

West’s knee met the edge of the mattress by Luca’s outer thigh. His free hand found purchase on Luca’s shoulder. Firmly, but gently, he pushed Luca onto the bed, then sank down over him, supporting his own weight so well that Luca barely felt him there. Like this, they were nose to nose, the suggestion of a kiss hovering between them.

Would it be weird to act on it?

The sex they were going to have was transactional—about as platonic as sex could ever be. West was only helping him out. It wasn’t like West wasactuallyattracted to him. If he was, he would have made a move way before now; after all, they’d been roommates for fourteen years, and Luca had been subtly flirting with him on and off for most of it.

“Here.” To distract himself from West’s unfairly kissable lips, Luca stretched his neck so his head was resting on his shoulder. “If you nuzzle into the crook of my neck and spend a little while breathing me in, instinct should take over, and all of this should become way less awkward. My heat only just started, so it might take a minute for the pheromones to kick in, but it should still work.”

West hesitated, then lowered himself fully onto Luca and nosed into the crook of his neck just like Luca had asked. The feeling of his body—theweightof it—was intoxicating, but it was the touch of West’s lips on his skin, the gentle contact of his nose, and each soft flutter of breath that fanned the flames of Luca’s heat.

This was his best friend.

His roommate.

The man who had never found anyone good enough to bring home.

But here he was, on top of Luca, willingly breathing in his pheromones so they could bring new life into the world.

Luca’s breath hitched.

The beginnings of an erection distended the front of his shorts.

West was going to breed him.

They were going to have ababy.

“Just for the record,” Luca said breathlessly, hoping West would write off his obvious arousal as a symptom of his heat and not anything more, “it’s not gonna be much longer before I start losing control. Sorry in advance for all the embarrassing things I’m gonna say and do.”

West, nose buried in the crook of Luca’s neck, grunted in recognition and nuzzled closer, breathing deeply, almost greedy in the way he took Luca in. “You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he said once he’d had his fill, his words hot on Luca’s skin. “I won’t be acting like myself, either. How can I when you smell this good?”

Luca’s lips parted in a silent moan. Already trembling from pleasure, he wrapped his arms around West’s neck and pushed his head closer, encouraging more contact, wanting West to be so consumed with him that he thought of no one else.

“I’m wet,” he said quietly, voice almost breaking—and he was. His slick was coming in so plentifully, he could feel it between his legs. “As soon as you’re ready, you can put it in.”

West took in a sharp breath—almost a snarl—and grabbed the waistband of Luca’s shorts, yanking them down in one powerful tug.

They hit the floor a second later.

It was official.

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