Carter's Tryck [Brac Pack 17] by Lynn Hagen

“Maverick. He sees me as weak now after my public confession.”

    Carter’s Tryck
    83
    Carter turned in his arms, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. “Is that what this is all about? You’re afraid someone is going to look at you as weak for showing me how much you care?” Tryck nodded.
    “It takes a strong man to show another how much he loves them.
    It’s not weakness.”
    Tryck’s brain tried to process Carter’s words. It got twisted around instead to say , “It takes a weak man to show another how much he loves them. It’s not strong.” Tryck fought a mental battle to make the words un-jumble, to let them flow the way his mate had just said them. He had conditioned himself for too long, and now he was paying the price for that.
    “I’ll keep trying, gatito . Please have patience with me.” Carter kissed him softly. “As long as you keep trying, I’ll keep listening.”
    He had to fight the urge not to back away when Mark came into the library. “Dinner is ready.”
    “Thanks,” Carter replied.
    “I love you, kitten.” Tryck cupped his mate’s face. “Just remember that.”
    “I know, but it’s nice to hear it and see it.” Carter led him by the hand to the dining room. All eyes were on them as they entered.
    Tryck didn’t look at the Alpha, didn’t want to see the humor in his eyes.
    They ate, Carter constantly touching and leaning in for a kiss.
    Tryck felt like a man with a gun aimed at him. He patted himself on the back when dinner was over. He had survived the public affection without snapping at his mate.

    * * * *

    84
    Lynn Hagen
    Carter knew he was laying it on kind of thick. All he wanted was for Tryck to get used to openly claiming him. He saw how his mate squirmed around, and he loved him even more for trying.
    Tryck laid his hand on the small of Carter’s back, walking him out of the dining room. “Would you like to go for a ride?”
    “Still trying to get me on the back of the deathtrap?” Carter chuckled.
    “It’s safe. I promise.”
    Carter followed Tryck, wanting to skip along at how happy he was. He wasn’t really afraid of riding. He just loved teasing his mate about his favorite mode of transportation. The guy seemed to be in love with the thing.
    Tryck grabbed a helmet off of another bike. “Wear this.”
    “Why? You’re not wearing one,” Carter argued.
    “ Yo no voy a luchar en este .” Tryck growled.
    “English, buddy.”
    “I am not going to fight you on this,” Tryck repeated in English.
    Carter grabbed the helmet, tucking his pointy ears in as he put it on. He flipped the helmet up and glared at his mate. “I feel like a dork in this thing.”
    “A safe dork.” Tryck looked around and then kissed him.
    “You better watch out. The kissing patrol may catch you and jail you.”
    His mate ignored him and swung his leg over the beast. He wasn’t going to harass Tryck too much.
    The man was trying.
    Carter grabbed Tryck’s shoulders, climbing onto the back and hugging his shifter close. He ground his erection into his mate’s back.
    “It’s the other way around, gatito . I grind you.”
    “Picky, picky.” Carter slammed the visor down. “I can’t hear you.”

    Carter’s Tryck
    85
    Tryck started the bike, driving at a turtle’s pace. “I won’t break.
    Show me what this thing can do,” Carter yelled from inside his helmet, knowing shifters had superior hearing.
    Boy, he should be careful what he wished for. His mate tore up the road, going at least ninety miles an hour. Carter hugged him closer, not sure he would be able to shimmer them out in time if they wrecked.
    Tryck slowed the bike, pulling off into the forest.
    “Why did you stop?” Carter asked when the bike came to a complete stop and he pulled his helmet off.
    “Because we are going to live out one of my fantasies, gatito .
    Strip.”
    Carter didn’t like that gleam in his mate’s eyes. He climbed off, handing Tryck his helmet. His fingers shook so badly, he