Tim watched his father look Kontra up and down, then stare pointedly for a couple seconds at the possessive arm he had around Tim. Finally, he nodded slowly. “I’m Luc Laurent. I remember you asking questions about my son years ago. How long have you been mated?” he asked, rising to his feet.
“We’re not, yet,” Kontra admitted. He gently cupped Tim’s jaw and tilted his head so he could bring their faces closer. Kontra rubbed the hair of his goatee against the side of Tim’s face, and again, he marveled at its softness. The heat of lust and desire burned in the dark depths of Kontra’s eyes as he whispered, “It’s something I plan to rectify very, very soon.”
Kontra pressed his lips against Tim’s, rubbing them together once, twice, before flicking his tongue out and tracing the seam of Tim’s mouth. Tim’s hands gripped the buttery soft leather of the coat Kontra wore as he practically fell into the kiss.
He opened quickly, eager for another taste of this shifter. Kontra slid his hand to the nape of Tim’s neck, cradling his head as he plundered Tim’s mouth, twining their tongues and mapping his mouth.
A snicker from one of the men drew them out of their lustful exchange.
Kontra lifted his head and smiled. “Guess this really isn’t the place. Come on.”
As they walked, Kontra introduced his packmates as Payson, Sam, and Adam. Adam was good enough to give Luc his sweatshirt to wrap around his waist until they could get him something else to wear at the bikes. Nudity wasn’t the issue. It was more a matter of not wanting Luc’s fine dangly bits—as Payson called them—to get scraped by a branch or bush. And watching a man, anyone actually, hit on his father made Tim more uncomfortable than he cared to admit.
Tim’s eyes widened in surprise when he actually got his first look at Kontra’s motorcycle. He’d known the guy drove one, his leathers gave it away. He just didn’t think it would be so…big. Then Tim looked at Kontra and nearly rolled his eyes at himself. Of course, the chrome and black machine would be big.
“At the moment, I only have the one helmet,” Kontra said, handing it to Tim. “Put it on, honey. We’ll pick one out for you as soon as we can find a shop.”
“Uh, okay,” Tim murmured.
He watched Kontra swing his leg over the bike and start it up. He patted the small space behind him and grinned. “Come on, honey. Climb aboard and hang on tight.”
Tim swallowed hard, then obeyed, placing his foot on the peg Kontra indicated. Resting his hand on Kontra’s shoulder, Tim swung on behind him. The seat was small, forcing Tim to press against the bigger man. He slipped his arms around Kontra and fought back a moan at the hard abs under his fingers.
“You’re not wearing a shirt,” he whispered. Why didn’t I notice that before?
Kontra put his bike in gear and started moving. “When I realized you’d been taken, I was in kind of a hurry,” he admitted. “Pulling on a shirt was the last thing on my mind.
Tim smiled at that. It was nice knowing the shifter cared that much. Sure, it was probably just the mate-pull, but…wait. “Henri, one of the guy’s in the SUV, said you asked after me before I left for the states.”
“That’s right.”
“You knew, even then, that I was your mate?”
“Yes, Tim. I knew,” Kontra confirmed.
“Why didn’t you ever approach me?” The fact that his mate waited, which had resulted in him being chased from his flock, really hurt. “Didn’t you want me then?”
Kontra glanced over his shoulder at him and frowned. “Get that thought out of your head, right now,” he ordered gruffly. “You were fifteen when I scented you. I couldn’t claim you then. And once you came of age, my father convinced me to let you live for a few years, let you get some experience under your belt.”
“Why?”
“We worried you’d come to resent me if I claimed you too young.” Tim caught the grimace on Kontra’s face when he glanced back at him. “I realize that sounds stupid now, but…” He shrugged.
“I understand,” Tim said, and he really did. If Kontra had claimed him, he never would have had seventeen amazing years with Gil. He still missed his human lover, but he had a funny feeling he’d no longer be lonely.
They drove back toward town. The silence only lasted for a couple of minutes. Kontra looked at him over his shoulder and asked, “Who were those shifters?”
“My old flock’s alpha, Pierre, is the one who said I had to die,” he stated, sounding bitter even to himself. “The beta, Jean, was driving. The asshole with the icy blue eyes was a tracker named Brook and the final guy was Henri, an enforcer,” Tim replied.