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Wyatt cupped Bel’s cheek when they reached the top of the stairs. “I’m not afraid of you hurting me or River. I trust you with my life, with River’s life, completely.”
“Thank you,” Bel whispered, lost in the spell of Wyatt’s warm, deep voice.
“I am worried about making you uncomfortable since I know you won’t feed from us.”
Bel smirked at Wyatt. It had been a while since Wyatt had brought up the subject of Bel using the wolves as blood donors, and it was becoming very obvious that he was seeing it more of a slight than an unwanted obligation.
“I’m not uncomfortable, thank you. You and River have become a lot of things to me, but you are not a meal.”
“Guys,” River said from behind them, amusement clear in his voice. “While this heart-to-heart is adorable—and we are definitely revisiting this ‘who gets to feed Bel’ topic—Wyatt is dripping blood all over the carpet. We need to move this along to the bathroom.”
“Who gets to feed Bel,” the vampire muttered while getting Wyatt to shuffle along to the master bedroom. “You make it sound like I’m some poor foundling left on your doorstep in a basket. I am one hundred and seventy-six years old. I am quite adept at feeding myself.”
“Better than making you sound like the old man you are,” River said.
“Old man!”
Whatever Bel could have pulled together as an argument was drowned out by Wyatt’s loud laughter. It didn’t matter. Just that sound made Bel’s heart lighter. Leaning Wyatt against the counter, Bel stepped away to turn on the shower and adjust the water temperature. When he turned back, River was standing between Wyatt’s legs and holding him gently while sipping up sweet kisses.
“River, help Wyatt clean his wounds in the shower. I’ll lay out the gauze, tape, and ointment for when you get out. I’ll also grab some clean clothes from your closet. You can both rest in my bed until he has healed.”
“You’re not getting in the shower with us?” River inquired.
A little shaft of longing went up, but Bel shook his head. “The shower is plenty big for two. Not three. This is about helping Wyatt heal and making him comfortable. Not-not…other things.”
Bel started to leave the bathroom as it filled with steam, but Wyatt’s strong hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping him.
“You will be in the bathroom when I get out of the shower.”
He didn’t know if it was a statement or a question, but Bel found himself mindlessly nodding. Wyatt’s voice had dipped into that deep, commanding tone that left Bel wanting to follow his every instruction.
“Of course.”
“Grab the lube out of our bedroom while you’re in there.”
“You can’t. You need rest,” Bel protested even as blood rushed for his groin.
Wyatt smiled at him and Bel could feel his cheeks heating. “I’ll rest. I’ve just got something else in mind.”
Bel resumed his trek to the wolves’ room when Wyatt released him, vaguely aware of River’s low, dirty chuckle. There wasn’t a clear thought in Bel’s head. His brain was swirling with images of what he’d already experienced in bed with them. Strong, naked bodies writhing against his. Orgasms that stole his breath and ability to reason. A bone-deep satisfaction and contentment he’d never known before.
Once in the bedroom, he went directly to the nightstand, grabbed the lube, made it to the hallway, and realized that he’d forgotten to also grab clothes for the wolves. Part of his brain wondered why he bothered. River and Wyatt were perfectly comfortable wandering around the house naked. But he’d said he was getting them clothes.
Grumbling at his scattered brain, Bel turned and grabbed a pair of socks, sweat pants, and a T-shirt for each wolf. He placed them in neat, folded piles on the bathroom counter and turned his attention to the doctor’s bag. He’d pulled the bag together years ago, updating it as medical technology advanced. His brothers all had a knack for getting into trouble. And then of course, there was their mother. Somehow, he’d just never imagined using its contents for anything but patching up his brothers.
The water shut off as he was finishing up. The door opened, and a slick River stepped out first in a cloud of steam. Bel grabbed two large, fluffy towels as Wyatt was helped onto the mat. It looked as if a number of the smaller cuts had healed, but bruises were blossoming in bright colors all over his body.
“It looks worse than it is,” Wyatt murmured. It was only then that Bel realized he was standing there, staring at him while tightly clutching the towels in two fists.
“It’s true,” River added as Bel handed him one of the towels. “Couple of hours of sleep, and you’ll never be able to tell he was hurt in the first place.”
“Yes, well, I can tell he’s in pain now, and that bothers me,” Bel said stiffly. He carefully patted Wyatt dry with the remaining towel in his hands. Wyatt tolerated his cautious ministrations and allowed Bel to move him back over to the counter, where he applied bandages to the larger slashes on his arms, chest, and legs.
