He Replaced His Groom, Then Begged for His Mate novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Bathroom Door

A jammed bathroom door puts Felix and Casper together as Casper's pre-heat breaks; hands against the tile, then a cruel line from Felix and an empty blocker bottle in the cabinet.

At two in the morning Felix was still at his desk, reading Rowan's text for the ninth time.

Don't forget what I hold.

The ward's bills were paid and Casper's mother was safe, so he could not see what else Rowan held.

He pushed numbers around a screen he could not see, and the question stayed where it was.

Then a heavy thud came from the third door on the left, and a glass broke.

He was in the corridor before he knew he had stood.

"Casper?"

The bathroom door was shut, and the light under it was on.

"I'm fine," Casper called. His voice cracked in the middle. "The lock is stuck. Please go to bed."

"Step back from the door."

"It's fine, really, I..."

Felix put his shoulder to the wood, and the frame split on the second hit.

The first thing that reached him was the smell.

Warm sugar and sweat and something underneath, sweet and wet and wrong for a man who had said he was fine.

It hit Felix low in the stomach, hard enough to make his knees go loose.

Casper sat on the floor of the shower in a wet T-shirt with the water running cold over him.

His face was flushed and his hair was plastered to his forehead.

His shorts were soaked through, and not only with water.

"Don't look," he said, and bent forward to hide himself. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I took the pills. I took double. It's not supposed to do this."

"How long?"

"Since the wedding." He laughed, a thin awful sound. "It's pre-heat. It'll pass, it always passes if I stay cold."

Felix turned off the water.

He knelt on the wet tile in his good trousers, and slid one hand under Casper's jaw.

Casper's skin was burning.

"Terms," Casper whispered. "We don't touch. That was number three."

"I remember."

"Then why..."

"Because you're shaking yourself apart, and I'm tired of watching people do that on my account."

Casper looked up at him.

His eyes were enormous and black, the hazel almost gone, and he leaned his cheek into Felix's palm before he could stop himself.

Neither of them said anything.

The crescent at Felix's nape burned until his vision blurred.

"Felix," Casper said, in a very small voice. "I don't know what to do. It hurts."

"Where?"

Casper took Felix's other hand with trembling fingers and pressed it flat against the front of his wet shorts.

He was rock hard, and the cloth was soaked through.

"There," he said. "Please. Just once. Then I'll never ask again."

Felix's mouth went dry.

He had meant to hold Casper's shoulders and talk him down.

He found he could not make his hand do anything but stay where it was.

"Lean back against the wall," he said roughly.

Casper obeyed.

Felix hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled the shorts down to his knees.

Casper's cock sprang free, flushed and wet at the tip, and when Felix wrapped his hand around it Casper made a sound that was almost a sob.

"Oh. Oh, that's..."

"Quiet."

"I can't."

"Then be loud."

Felix stroked him slowly, root to head, and watched Casper's whole body arch off the tile.

Slick ran out of Casper and pooled on the floor between his thighs, thick and warm, and the scent of it went straight to Felix's own cock.

He ignored it.

He tightened his grip and picked up the pace, and Casper's hips began to jerk into his fist.

"Felix. Felix, please, I'm going to..."

"Not yet."

"I can't hold..."

"Yes, you can." Felix slid his other hand lower, between Casper's legs, and pressed two fingers against the slick, quivering hole.

Casper cried out and clutched at his shoulders.

"You're soaked," Felix said into his ear. His voice was not steady. "Since the wedding, and you said nothing."

"I didn't want to be a burden."

Felix pushed the fingers in.

Casper was hot and tight and sucked at them, and Felix curled them and found the spot that made Casper's head hit the tile.

"There?"

"There, oh God, there, please..."

"Come for me, then."

Casper came with a shout, hard, spilling over Felix's fist and his own shirt, and clenching so tightly on his fingers that Felix felt it down his arm.

When it was over he slid down the wall, gasping, and covered his face.

Felix withdrew his hand and sat back on his heels.

His own cock was aching against his zip, and his hands were not quite steady.

For one moment he wanted to lean in and put his mouth on the mark at Casper's neck.

He thought of the dais, the laughter, the pack seal.

He thought: This is exactly what Rowan wanted.

"Don't read anything into that," he said, standing. His voice came out cold. "It's biology, Froster. Any omega in heat would have done."

Casper lowered his hands.

The look on his face was quiet and very polite.

"Of course," he said. "I know. Thank you."

Felix hated that more than anything he could have said.

He took a towel from the rail, dropped it on Casper's knees and went to the sink to wash his hands.

His own face looked back at him from the mirror, flushed and furious.

He opened the cabinet to find the antiseptic, and an orange bottle rolled out into the basin.

It was empty.

The label read Wexley Pharma, Double Strength, and under it Rowan's signature was printed in neat blue ink: For J. Take two daily.

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