Tap. Tap. Tap. The swift rap of knuckles on Jan's door shook him out of his reverie.
Ethan?
But no, the shower was still running downstairs. The rapid series of knocks rang again, this time more insistent than before.
Louie. This impatient knocking was his trademark.
Jan groaned, pulling his slippery hands out of his pants. The creamy evidence of his clandestine act coated his fingers. He rolled his languid body out of bed and strode to the bathroom.
Leaning over the sink, he took deep, slow breaths to calm his racing heart. In the glow of the soft lights around the mirror, the face that stared back at him was flushed, and a fine sheen of sweat coated his forehead. His tresses were damp and stuck to his neck.
A shower would have been nice, but Louie had escalated to using both fists on the wood. Bam! Bam! Bam!
"I'm coming!"
He quickly stripped out of his ruined pajamas and wiped himself off with a damp towel. Then he wrapped a larger, fluffy one around his waist and walked out.
"What took you so long?" His guest demanded in French the moment the door cracked open.
Louie pushed it wider and stormed in, clad in a fuchsia silk robe and slippers, with his short hair pinned up in flat curls. However, he came bearing gifts: a glass bottle containing dark red liquid and two glasses.
As he passed the open bedroom, he paused, sniffed once, and turned around to face him. Eyes roving over Jan's state of undress, Louie's lips cracked into a sly, lopsided smile.
"I thought Ethan was ... handling your stress," he said, waving vaguely towards Jan's waist.
"I'm not stressed," his host mulishly denied.
Louie scoffed. "Yes, I can smell your not-stressed coming from the bedroom."
He set the glasses and decanter on the table and poured himself a generous serving. "I wondered how come Ethan was walking sprightly after your first night. It used to take two or three girls to satisfy you after such a long period of abstinence. So how was he able to stroll out so... energetically?"
Louie's eyes twinkled as he pondered over his question. Then, absent-mindedly, he lifted his drink to take a sip. But just as the glass came within an inch of his small, cupid-shaped lips, he exaggerated a gasp, gaze widening at Jan. "Unless..."
Feeling a telling heat rise up his neck, Jan stormed past him, snatching the chalice from Louie's slack fingers.
His best friend trailed behind him. "Mon Dieu. You haven't fucked him, have you? Oh-I need to talk to Brent about that bet!"
Jan groaned, but Louie still followed him into the en suite, where his stained pants lay on the floor as evidence.
"Out! I need to take a bath," he ordered.
But the French libertine simply scoffed and perched his derriere on the vanity. "Pfft! It's not my first time watching you bathe. I even gave you one after you got yourself in that messy situation in Idaho and came home with half your bones broken."
Jan paused, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hair at the delusion of his best friend. "Remind me, whose hare-brained idea got me in the messy situation? Huh? Who took the young man betrothed to the clan leader to one of your crazy orgy parties?"
Pouting, Louie waved his hands as if shooing away a bad memory. "Don't change the subject. After all these nights together, you haven't had sex with Ethan yet. Why?"
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
Blooded Mate
Fantastik[[MATURE CONTENT]] Pack, family, mate. Loyalty, respect, honor. These are the words that form the foundation of the wolf society. At six years old, Ethan had to choose between his Alpha title and his survival on the night of his father's death. As a...
