He hustled out of the library, past all the busy servants, and back up to his room to put on something more commanding in appearance. If he was going to show up late, the least he could do is look like he meant business.
That evening, theroses perfumed the air of Urho’s library with a taunting sweetness he couldn’t escape. He stared up at the portrait of Riki while running his fingers over the smooth, cool bone of his phone receiver.
They day had passed much like any other before the madness with Xan started, and yet he’d felt wrong from the moment he’d rolled out of bed. The distance between them seemed vast, and some part of him kept seeking Xan’s scent, like an alpha looking for his omega in a crowd. He never found it.
He’d even driven past Xan’s house in the city like a lovesick alpha mooning over a reluctant omega, and he’d found himself breathing deeply, trying to find residual Xan-ness in the air.
Urho had half expected a phone call from Xan throughout the day, but none ever came, and he’d returned home after dropping by Jason and Vale’s house to sit in solitude and brood on his feelings.
He was ridiculous. He knew that. But he couldn’t seem to stop.
The cool receiver beneath his fingers beckoned to him. He considered something Vale had said once he’d mastered his glee at hearing that Urho had taken Xan as a lover, though Urho had refused to provide more details than that as he’d measured Vale’s stomach that particular afternoon. “If you’re not certain about this, now is the time to jump ship.”
He could do that. Just swim away from temptation and pull himself up on the shores of wolf-god’s rules and the country’s regulations. He could watch that ship sail onto the horizon and then disappear. All it would take was…not making that phone call. Not answering if one came in. It would be so much safer. Saner. Smarter.
He swallowed hard and his gut knotted.
He lifted the receiver and placed the call.
When a servant answered on the other end of the line, he asked for Xan and waited with his eyes closed.
There was the sound of another extension connecting, and the first one disconnecting. And then Xan said, “Hello?” His voice was a blessing in Urho’s ear, and he shivered.
“This is Urho. I wanted to make sure you arrived safely.”
“Oh! It’s you!” Xan’s pleasure rolled through the line to him like the sweetness of an opiate being spooned into Urho’s mouth. He swallowed it down and it warmed him inside and out.
“It’s me,” Urho confirmed.
“I spent all day in endless meetings arguing with the contractors who are building the physical space for our satellite office and I assumed this call was going to be from my brother checking on the progress there. This is such a better surprise!”
As he rambled, Xan’s voice grew a touch nervous. It made Urho want him close, to put his hands on him, and shove him down to his knees and stopper his mouth with his—
Wolf-god, he was depraved now.
“I wasn’t sure when I’d hear from you. I’m glad it’s now. Tonight, I mean. Did you get the roses? I wanted to surprise you with them, but maybe they’re a little too much. I mean, you did get them? Right?”
“I got them. Thank you.”
“Yes, of course. I’m glad. Okay, wow. I’m not sure what to say.” Xan sounded out of breath and the sound of shoes clacking as the young man paced echoed through the receiver. “I should probably start with something simple, but I already blew that. I guess I’ll try it now. Can’t lose anything by trying, right? So, hi! How was your day?”
Urho chuckled and relaxed back into his chair. “Not as enjoyable as it would have been if I’d been able to see you.”
Xan made a soft sound that woke Urho’s cock. “Mine either.”
Urho pressed his hand over his crotch, feeling the rush of blood there. “Was the train comfortable?”
“It was. I hired a private compartment so I could sleep. Caleb read a book.”
As Urho listened, Xan described the journey, the house—which sounded like a large project in and of itself—and his frustration at discovering that some cousin, a thorn in Xan’s side, obviously, would be staying as a houseguest there at Xan’s father’s behest.
Xan’s voice wove into Urho like a thread of sharp contentment, bordering on pleasure. Urho closed his eyes, letting that thread stab and pull through him again and again. He shivered.
“Caleb doesn’t like him, either,” Xan concluded irritably.
Urho stroked slow fingers over his thigh, sliding against his stiff cock. It’d filled as he’d followed the melodious ups and downs of Xan’s animated descriptions.
“Why’s that?” he rasped, teasing the fat head of his dick where it pressed against his trousers. He shifted his hips and imagined Xan at his feet, his head resting against his knee as he complained about his cousin. If Xanwereat his feet, he’d stroke his hair, hear him out, and then fuck his mouth so roughly that—
