He shakes his head, smirking. “I know how your pack initiates people. I’ve had…interesting talks with Mike and Pavin over the years. I admire them for forming a pack and protecting people. Especially since it hasn’t eaten itself alive from the inside out due to infighting and politics like many of them.”
His smile fades. “As your attorney, I’m telling you there are only two options—get that kid far away so no one scents him, or get him initiated ASAP. And if you want my opinion, I say initiate him. Like, now.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“You have probably seven days, eight at the outside, before the first refugees arrive in your compound. I don’t care what you have to do, get him not smelling so much like Sterling and get him smelling like your pack. Because if you move him, there’s a reasonably good chance that, no matter how or where you hide him, either Sterling’s people or someone else will find him. And his fate will not be good if that happens.”
“And you’re certain initiating him will protect him?”
“From our coalition, absolutely. From Sterling?” He shrugs. “Better he’s part of your pack and safely embedded there where he can be protected by yours and by the coalition.”
Well, this day certainly isn’t getting any better, and it was shitty to start with.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Todd
Happy Dreams?
I head back to my house and face-plant in my bed after remembering, barely, to set the alarm on my phone. The good thing about being so exhausted from a day of hard physical labor—and an evening of fantastic sex—is that my mind has maybe thirty seconds to haphazardly spin about Mal and the situation before sleep sucks me under.
And I didn’t even wake up the way I frequently do, at least once, either to take a leak or because a noise pinged my sleeping brain in a way that told it to call in the day shift to check things out.
Usually, it’s the first.
Which means it’s difficult to process when I hear something and peel open my eyes to the room still cloaked in darkness and Mal standing at the end of my bed.
Naked.
I could’ve sworn I locked the back door but, then again, maybe I didn’t.
“You okay?” I manage. Because not only is he naked, he’s hard.
Without a word, he climbs up the end of the bed, and I am helpless to say or do anything to stop him.
Goddess help me, I don’t want to, either.
There’s only so much a man can take. Tonight showed me I need to nut up and have a real conversation with Jax—and Mal—about this situation.
He straddles me, and of course I’m fucking hard. This is Mal.
He smiles down at me and rises on his knees, notches my cock against his rim, and slooowly, like an answered prayer, impales himself.
I suck in a sharp breath. “Goddamn,” I mutter.
I should make him stop.
I need to make him stop.
But…
I can’t.
Then again, maybe this is the answer I was looking for the whole time. Maybe I can issue Jax my mea culpa for fucking Mal, but at least I can do it while telling him without any doubt that, yes, Mal is mine.
He grabs my hand and wraps it around his cock, and it’s hot, hard, completely engorged, and even larger than I remember. He keeps his hand wrapped around mine, squeezing, showing me what he needs even as he slowly rides me.
Fuck. Me.