Never in his life had this happened to him, even when he was still going through puberty and so much as a shift in the wind would give him an erection. He’d never wanted sex so much before. He didn’t think it was possible for him to want it this much.
He jumped into the shower and turned on the spray. Even the 28
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sudden shock of cold before the water became hot wasn’t enough to make his cock wilt.
He put one hand against the shower wall to steady himself and wrapped the other around his pulsing dick.
He had to bite his bottom lip to keep the moan from escaping his throat. God, he really hoped Storm couldn’t hear him doing this. He stroked his dick slow, trying to draw out his pleasure, imagining Storm was touching him, that it was Storm’s hand, and the man was pressed up behind him, whispering hotly into his ear all the things he wanted John to do with him.
It didn’t take him long to come, but by then he couldn’t stop even the smallest of noises from leaving his throat. His hard breathing and bitten-down moans couldn’t be stopped. He prayed that the sound of the bathroom ventilation, along with the running water would be enough to keep Storm from hearing him.
John’s knees buckled, and he had to keep himself steady along the wall.
It took several seconds before his heart rate went back down to normal, and he was alone once more in the shower. Storm wasn’t in here with him, and it was John’s hand, and no one else's, wrapped around his cock.
He stayed under the spray for a few more minutes, using up most of the cheap little soaps and shampoos that were in the bathroom, hoping to wash away the scent of what he’d done before Storm could get in here. That and the bathroom’s ventilation should make sure that only John knew what had happened in here.
Realizing he was still worried that Storm might try and make a break for it, he got out, dried off, and put his clothes back on.
Storm was leaning against the wall when John stepped out, and he practically pushed John out of the way in order to get into the bathroom.
“Hey―”
The door slammed shut, and John only managed to yank his face Hunted and on the Run
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back in time before the door cracked against his nose.
Shit, maybe Storm had heard him.
He went and sat on the bed, mortified with himself. There was no way Storm hadn’t heard what he’d done to have a reaction like that.
John was lucky he hadn’t bolted.
About two minutes later he heard a distinct sound coming from within the bathroom that not even the weak spray of water or the shuddering ventilation could mask.
With how close the bed was to the wall leading into the bathroom, it was a simple matter of leaning his ear just a little to the right.
Unless Storm was hissing and groaning over the water running over the long scratch that ran down his side, there was only one other thing he could be doing in there.
John’s cock got hard all over again beneath his jeans.
“Give it a rest already,” he snapped at himself, grabbing a pillow and stuffing in over his lap.
That had been a mistake, and he threw the pillow away quickly.
A knock on the door pulled him from his horny thoughts, and he quickly and silently padded his way over to the peep hole to see who was on the other side.
The pizza guy. Not hunters who’d been tracking them.
John opened the door and paid for the food, keeping his face down so the guy wouldn’t be able to give a proper description of him if anyone bothered asking him, but he also didn’t want to show off how red his cheeks still were.
They always turned bright red when he was embarrassed. He used to get made fun of for that like crazy as a pup.
He’d just set the pizza, wings, drinks, garlic bread, and cake on the table―a hungry wolf needed to eat―when the bathroom door opened.
Though he was fully dressed in the clothes that John had lent to him, there was something about watching him appear through the haze of steam behind him, his clean hair wet and loose, dampening 30
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the shoulders of the navy shirt he wore that was already clinging to him because the towels in there didn’t soak up much water at all, that made John want him even more.
The ventilation in the bathroom took away a lot of the scent of Storm’s lust, but John still caught the faintest whiff of it through the heavy steam.
He crumpled the empty paper bag in the hard fists he made. This was going to be the longest night of his life.
Hunted and on the Run
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Chapter Three
“There’s something I should tell you,” Storm said.
John looked at him. He’d just taken a bite of his pizza, doing the classical thing where he pulled the pizza away from his face, stretching out the cheese. He quickly scarfed down his bite, wiped his mouth on a napkin, and cleared his throat. “What’s that?”
He could clearly be immature, but also serious when the time called for it. Storm appreciated that.
He took in a deep breath, hating himself for doing this again. He stared at the far wall when he finally managed to spit it out. “I owe you a life-debt.”
When there was no immediate response, he shifted his eyes to get a look at John’s face.
There was the normal confusion that came when admitting to something like this to another species who didn’t follow the same code of ethics, but unlike with Tony, there was no evil glee glinting in