Anticipated Angel by Laura Navarre

Author:Laura Navarre
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mm short stories, lgbtq romance, lgbtq science fiction, mm psychic romance, mm scifi romance, mm friends to lovers romance, mm first time straight to gay
Publisher: Laura Navarre

Chapter Six

The Secret

Dex was drifting half-asleep, every cell and sinew in his body sated and aching from a night of intensely pleasurable sexual exertion. With Ben’s lean supple body pinned facedown beneath him in the mattress that reeked of his mating scent, the tang of their mingled sweat, and enough semen from both of them to fill a camp bucket.

Beyond his viewport, the moons were setting, rose and lavender light slanting through the treacherous jungle where shadow panthers cleaned blood from their saber-toothed muzzles and stalked for their dens. Moonlight streamed across the tangle of naked limbs and snarled bedding that overflowed his narrow bed.

Soon the sky would begin to pale. Before the camp stirred around them and watchful eyes drifted open, Dex needed to send Ben away.

But not yet.

Not yet.

He couldn’t bear to send him away yet.

He leaned in to nuzzle the back of his lover’s neck, not hard enough to wake him, one hand gently smoothing the silky mane he couldn’t get enough of touching away from Ben’s sleeping face. Tenderly he rubbed his face into Ben’s nape, just in case there was a micron of skin somewhere he hadn’t yet drenched in mating scent. Reluctantly, he knew Ben would have to scrub it off later, using an astringent cleansing agent designed specifically for that purpose. Unless they wanted every Mogadon neighbor with a nose to know precisely what they’d both been doing last night.

Even though the prospect of Ben scrubbing off his mating scent made every instinct in Dex’s Mogadon DNA howl in outraged protest.

Truly, Dex needed to permit it. Even, if Ben proved reluctant, to demand it. Because Paragon’s neutral political status wouldn’t protect either of them from his father’s wrath once they left the planet.

This stolen summer they’d snatched couldn’t last forever.

Needing to get still closer, Dex nudged his thigh between Ben’s. When his best friend parted for him with a soft sigh, a tide of drowsy pleasure rolled through Dex. Without warning, a ferocious surge of tenderness reared up, gripped his heart in a vise, and squeezed him to a pulp.

By the twelve farking hells, Ben Nero. You do tend to wriggle your way under a man’s armor, don’t you?

“Dex,” Ben mumbled, half-coherent, into the mattress. “Crushing me.”

“Sorry, love,” Dex whispered, forcing himself to give his lover the bare minimum of reasonable space. Wryly aware that his long-delayed Mogadon mating instincts—those same instincts he’d waited in vain to manifest during any number of conventional flirtations back home—had finally kicked in with a vengeance.

“Not going anywhere,” Ben said around a yawn, answering the thought Dex hadn’t even voiced. His best friend reached back to pull Dex’s arm around his waist, obliterating the modest distance Dex had just begrudgingly put between them, and pressed a sleepy kiss to his battle-scarred knuckles. “Go t’sleep.”

Dex rolled them both on their sides, nested them together like two spoons, tucked himself protectively against his lover’s exposed back, held him close as Ben drifted to sleep in his arms, and watched the rose moon sink from view in the steamy jungle night.

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