Page 46 of Destined Mate

Oh, that must be Wesley’s scent. Funny how he hadn’t gotten a hint of it until now. Had the blood and gore drowned it out? Oh well, it didn’t matter. He smelled it now and liked ita lot.

A waft of steam and a hint of cedar greeted him when he walked inside the guestroom Wesley was using. Jerome inhaled deeply as his gaze landed on Wesley standing quietly across the room.

He was dressed in worn jeans and a black t-shirt that stretched snugly over muscled shoulders. His blond hair was a damp, unruly mess framed around his face as he brushed it.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You didn’t get lost,” Wesley said with a wide grin.

Jerome chuckled. “I didn’t.”

His feet felt rooted in place for a moment longer than necessary, overwhelmed by an impulsive urge to close the distance between them.

Hell, why not? He crossed the room and held his hand out for the brush. Wesley’s slow smile made Jerome’s cock stiffen slightly. Damn, just a smile did that to him?

“Can I?”

“Brush my hair? Just so you know, you never have to ask.” Wesley handed the brush to Jerome. “I’ll always be all for it.”

The moment hung in the air between them, intimate and charged, as Jerome took the brush.

Wesley turned back, the faintest hint of color on his cheeks. Jerome admired the way Wesley’s hair fell like spun gold. He started gently, letting the brush glide through the damp strands.

He felt Wesley relax under his touch. The brushing became a rhythm—smooth strokes interrupted only by subtle sounds from outside: distant voices, a laugh, the TV playing. The world went on without them while they shared this moment.

“I’ve never had anyone do this for me before,” Wesley said softly.

Jerome didn’t answer but moved closer as he brushed Wesley’s hair, his hand gliding through the damp, golden hair with ease, untangling any knots.

He finished with one last stroke and laid the brush down on the dresser. His hands lingered at Wesley’s shoulders just long enough to feel him lean back against him.

“Well,” Jerome murmured. “Now you have.”

Wesley turned. “Thank you. That was….”

“Yeah, it was. But we do need to join the others now.”

“You’re right. Just a second.” Wesley braided his hair, then slipped on his shoes. “C’mon. Let’s see if those steaks are ready.”

Jerome led him to the kitchen. It didn’t bother him at all having Wesley at his back. Instead, it made him feel safe.

The smell of cooked meat drifted through the air long before they reached it.

“That smells good,” Wesley said.

“It really does, doesn’t it?”

Household noise spilled into the hallway—laughter mixed with sizzling meat and clattering dishes. All reminders of how life went on if given the opportunity and how things could suddenly change.

The room was bustling with activity—Henry flipped steaks on a stovetop grill while Al made salad. Several pack members were there, including Marcia and Lakisha. Jerome went to them and looked over both women immediately.

“I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you both.” He hugged them, then stepped back.

“We were worried about you too,” Lakisha said.

“They stripped us of our rank,” Marcia said.

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