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“I’m getting damned tired of them.”

“Same.”

“Then when the fuck are we going to do something about it! One night wasn’t enough,” Logan snapped, banging his head against the wall again. “Fuck. I’m sorry, that wasn’t directed at you, it was…”

Roark silenced him by sliding to his knees, catching the waistband of Logan’s basketball shorts on the way down, freeing Logan’s erection. He swallowed it before Logan could say anything else. There was no need for him to apologize. Roark had been just as frustrated. Giving one another their claiming bites and spending the night pinning their mates to the bed had only left them craving more.

Something they had been too tired to engage in ever since.

Logan made a low, choked-off sound as he fisted Roark’s hair in his hands and guided his head, wanting a much faster speed than the one Roark set. Low grunts, growls, and rough moans spilled from his throat, while Roark’s cock twitched in his pants at the sound.

“Fucking hot…” Rusty growled when he returned to the room.

Logan let go of his hair, allowing Roark to drag his tongue up the underside of Logan’s cock before he collected the precum weeping from the tip.

“Who…was it?” Logan panted.

“That was the relay station. Lysander and company made it to the checkpoint at Crow Ridge. Visibility is low, however they are now following a large great horned owl. I wonder who that could be.”

His wink told Roark all he needed to know about the owl who’d once again flown into miserable weather to help others.

“Cage and Brooks are set up at the turn, they’ll guide them the rest of the way to town. The snowfall might be too heavy for them to make it all the way out here today, though.”

“I can live with that,” Logan admitted, “as long as they get here safely.”

“Wild won’t let them get lost,” Rusty explained. “With two owls in the car, he’s easily able to communicate a warning about any upcoming obstacles as he encounters them.”

“I am beginning to love that owl,” Logan said.

“We’re pretty fond of him ourselves,” Roark said. “You do know what this means, right?”

“Please say that we get to go downstairs to our bedroom and get naked, because if it’s any other answer, I’m going to need a stiff drink before you tell me,” Rusty grumbled.

“Get naked,” Logan growled.

Never in all the time Roark had known him had he seen Rusty take a flight of stairs that fast. He must have sent his clothes flying the moment he entered the bedroom, because his boxers wound up hanging off the arm of a colorful jellyfish sculpture. The sight of them made Roark laugh, while Logan tugged his phone from the end table drawer where he’d left it once they’d realized that the cell towers were down thanks to the storm. He snapped a photo of the boxers before tossing the phone back in the drawer, snickering the whole time.

“What do you plan to do with that?” Rusty asked as he retrieved his boxers.

“Pull it out for a laugh whenever the day gets long and I need a pick-me-up,” Logan replied before stripping off his clothes.

Roark tossed his on the chair, all of them anxious and eager to get their hands on one another. When Logan and Rusty collided, hands grasping, tongues dueling as they kissed, Roark marveled at the level of heated aggression as they groped, nails leaving red marks on one another’s shoulders and hips that immediately faded thanks to their shifter physiology. All that meant was they left more as they briefly wrestled for dominance before Rusty allowed himself to be pinned to the bed. That was the only way to describe the brief pause and the moment when they locked eyes before Logan shoved Rusty, who caught Logan’s hand on the way down, pulling Logan on top of him.

Roark had always preferred to be wolf handled, especially by Rusty, who knew what got Roark’s engine revving and always broke out the command voice when Roark needed it. There were times when Roark wondered if Rusty was just doing it for his sake, though Roark never could get him to come clean about it. Watching Rusty let Logan control him allowed Roark to witness another side of him.

Logan stretched Rusty’s hands over his head and pinned them to the mattress before attacking his neck and shoulder with more kisses and nips that left additional red marks behind. It was a beautiful sight to witness. Logan locked eyes with Rusty again, easing the hold he had on his wrists, but with a roughly snarled order for him to keep them where the fuck he put them.

Roark watched Rusty’s pupils dilate before he nodded and did as he was told, unlocking another kink Roark didn’t know he had.

Voyeurism.

He scooted onto the bed, eyes never leaving the scene that was unfolding in front of him. Logan took his time, kissing and nipping a path across Rusty’s chest, grazing his teeth over one of his nipples until Rusty started to reach for him. Another look passed between them, then Rusty put his hand back where Logan told him to keep it. Only then did Logan go back to what he’d been doing.

“You like watching, don’t you?” Logan asked when he glanced Roark’s way. “You haven’t even tried to touch one of us since we got naked.”

“Never knew I did until now.”

Logan turned his attention back to Rusty. “How about you? Do you get off on being pinned down and controlled?”