“Thanks.” Sherman turned and stormed out, heading straight for the fire station to give Dalton a piece of his mind.
* * * *
Dalton added all the ingredients to the crockpot once the ground meat had browned. It would take all day for the chili to cook, and it would be done in time for dinner.
“God, it smells good in here,” Ramsey said as he walked into the station kitchen rubbing his stomach. “Fucking chili. All right! I knew this was going to be a good day.”
“You get that engine washed? I don’t need road salt sitting on the undercarriage.” Dalton wasn’t in the best mood. He was still irritated with himself about how he’d handled the situation with Sherman.
His mate had been right. Dalton should have talked to him first before claiming him. There was nothing he could do about it now. He just had to hope that Sherman would forgive him.
Dalton had to make this work. Although Sherman was a complete stranger to him, that didn’t matter. In the shifter world, mates were a precious find. A shifter was given only one mate—although Dalton had heard about some men getting a second chance. Those incidents were so rare that a person had a better chance of winning the lottery twice in a row. Shifters took mating very seriously. That was why there was a law among their kind that prohibited anyone from interfering.
That was also why a cheating mate was dealt with harshly and severely. Dalton had heard about this one guy who had a few mistresses on the side. When his mate had found out, the guy had been sent to the underworld to “learn his ways.” Dalton never knew what had happened to the guy after that, but he hoped the shifter learned his lesson.
“Yeah, the engine is all clean. Got her shining real pertty.” Ramsey grinned. “If you don’t need me for anything, Talon and I are going to hit Bent Spoon for some breakfast.”
Dalton waved him off. “Bring back something for Graham. He gets testy when you forget about him.”
Ramsey looked at his watch. “If he’s late, he misses out. Not my fault he slept through his alarm.”
Dalton growled. “Just do it.”
“Fine.” Ramsey rolled his eyes. “Spoil the son of a bitch.”
Some days it felt as if Dalton was more of a babysitter for toddlers. His men got along, but they loved fucking with each other, pulling pranks, and arguing.
Ramsey returned a second later.
“Now what?” Dalton had wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, to chastise himself again for the way he’d handled things. “The chili won’t be ready until dinnertime, so, no, you can’t have a sample.”
“I just wanted to let you know you have a visitor,” Ramsey said with a shit-eating grin. “I put him in the day room. Mahogany hair, hazel eyes, a little plump around the edges, and cute as hell.”
Dalton set the large spoon on the counter as he furrowed his brows. What was Sherman doing at the station? He’d never expected a visit from his mate because Sherman had been livid last night.
“Send him back here and then take off.”
Ramsey nodded. “Put a tie on the door until you two are done. I wouldn’t want anyone walking in on you guys.”
He walked away before Dalton could say anything else. Shit. Sherman was there. Dalton ran his hand down his chest and looked at his shirt, making sure he didn’t have any chili sauce on it. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, and then decided to stand up straight and look busy.
Why was he so nervous? It was as if he had no idea what to do with his hands or where to stand or what facial expression to wear. Dalton finally went back to stirring the chili, giving his back to the door so he didn’t seem too excited or give off the wrong vibe.
“Hey.”
Dalton looked over his shoulder at the sound of Sherman’s voice. Fuck his mate was good-looking. Dalton’s bear gave a low growl at the sight. He wanted to snatch his mate up and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. His hands were itching to touch, caress, to squeeze his mate’s ass as he pulled Sherman to him.
“Is that chili?” Sherman walked farther into the room, sniffing the air, but Dalton sensed how nervous his mate was.
“Yep, my own secret recipe,” Dalton boasted. “Though it won’t be ready for hours.” He turned fully around. “I’m glad to see you, but what brings you by?”
“Well…I just…I was walking by the station and thought I’d come see you.” Sherman frowned, lowered his head, said something under his breath that Dalton couldn’t hear, and then looked up at him. “No, I came by to yell at you for—”
“Stealing a kiss?” Dalton wasn’t about to get yelled at, so he pulled Sherman into his arms and laid a kiss on his mate that left both of them struggling for air and forgetting how to think.
“That wasn’t…” Sherman touched his own lips with his fingers as his cheeks and ears turned a bright shade of red. “What were we talking about?”
Dalton gave a tiny growl as he nibbled at Sherman’s neck. “About going in the back.”
When he lifted Sherman off his feet, his mate squeaked as he hurriedly coiled his legs around Dalton’s waist. “You can’t hold me! You’ll drop me!”
“You weigh as much as a feather.” Dalton walked through the bunkroom to the private room at the end of the small row. He closed the door behind him and pressed his mate against the wall. “Never gonna drop you, honey bun.”
“But…but I weigh too much,” Sherman protested as Dalton went back to nibbling on his mate. “You’ll throw your back out.”
Dalton chuckled. “I highly doubt that. The only way I’m going to throw my back out is from fucking you in too many positions in a short amount of time.”
Sherman’s eyes widened as he visibly swallowed. Then a slow grin surfaced, making him even more stunning. “Prove it.”
“Another time.” Dalton nipped the shell of Sherman’s ear. “Tonight. My place. Right now I only have time for this.”
Dalton wedged his hand between them, gripping Sherman’s denim-covered cock. It was hard as steel. He lowered Sherman to his feet, and then Dalton dropped to his knees and peeled away the fabric until Sherman’s pants were midthigh.
Sherman hissed as his cock sprang free, pre-cum dotting the slit on the head of his bulbous shaft. The salty smell was intoxicating, making Dalton’s mouth water.
“This is just a taste of what I want to do to you.” Dalton swallowed Sherman to the root, the thick erection gliding past his lips and the head tapping the back of his throat.
“Oh god!” Sherman’s hips punched forward while his hands landed on Dalton’s head. He grabbed thick patches of hair and yanked as Dalton used his throat muscles to give added pleasure.
Sherman squirmed as his legs shook. Dalton slipped a finger into his mouth, wetted it, then used that finger to tap at Sherman’s hole. His mate groaned as he thrust his hips forward.
When Dalton inched his finger inside Sherman’s ass, his mate buckled, crying out as his cum shot down Dalton’s throat. If he hadn’t caught Sherman, his mate would have collapsed to the floor.
“That was… I love how you apologize.” Sherman leaned against the wall, trying hard to breathe.