Ruff Trouble

by Sharon Maria Bidwell

On the floor of the warehouse, Chantelle twitched, pulled the blanket tighter. Her dream dog bit her again. She moaned. There was no need to be so rough; whichever one mounted her, her animal was willing. A small smile settled over her human lips.

  Ouch!

  Eyelids fluttering, Chantelle fought the dream. She caught a flash of grey and black fur—the dog ahead was Bobby. The dog at her heels had to be Sam, but Sam was human. In the dream, she turned her head. Yellow malevolent eyes…

  …stared into hers as she lifted her eyelids.

  Chantelle scrambled back, the terror of being tangled in a blanket, of struggling to get away taking hold. A mewing sound reached her ears: her own fear spilling out.

  “Keep still.”

  Chantelle stopped at Bobby’s command. She didn’t as much as glance at him as he rose to his feet and came forward, not daring to look away from the creature. Its head tilted left, right, back to left in short, and sharp jerks as it regarded her.

  “He can smell your fear.”

  No shit.

  A few feet away Manning moaned. They’d left him tied up for several hours. Not that Chantelle cared if his limbs dropped off, but if he had any sense, now was not the time to complain.

  Manning had no sense.

  “When are you fucks going to fucking untie me?”

  A growl trickled out of Sam’s throat.

  Accept it. This is Sam. If she spoke his name, would he recognise it? Know her? She didn’t need to. Bobby did it for her.

  “Sam, no.”

  Sam ignored Bobby and loped over to where Manning lay. No doubt sensing danger, Manning did his best to roll away. The blindfold came away, and he opened his eyes…and screamed.

  His reaction was too much for Chantelle. She stood regardless of any threat from Sam, walked over and kicked Manning again, punctuating her kicks with words. “This. Is. Your. Fucking. Fault. So. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Either her kicks or his terror silenced him.

  “Chantelle, I need to take Sam out of here with me.”

  “It’s dark.” How many hours had they been out here? Had any of their staff thought it strange, reported them missing?

  “Which is why Sam needs to run. Make sure Manning is tied. Blindfold and gag him. Give him some water. Manning, I suggest you drink. You will be here for a few hours yet.”

  “I-I need to pee,” Manning sniffed, “and I n-n-need to wake up.” The horror that was Sam seemed too much for his mind.

  “So piss yourself!” Bobby snapped. There was no sympathy in his voice, and Chantelle didn’t blame him. “Be careful around him.” She nodded. “When you’re satisfied he’s secure for the night, make your way home. Don’t argue.”

  The objection forming on her tongue died away at once. Bobby wouldn’t speak to her that way unless it was important.

  “Sam?” Bobby hunkered down. “Sam?”

  The…creature…not one thing or another, twitched its ears. The head moved, jerking. Yellow eyes stared at Bobby.

  “Come with me, Sam.” Bobby was still naked. Now he threw aside the blanket.

  “Bobby?” Fear for him made her tremble.

  “I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” His gaze landed on her. “I’ll bring him home with me.”

  She wished to know how, but remained silent.

  “Sam? Here, Sam.” Bobby held out his hand, ran his fingers along the side of the strange face, under the nose, giving Sam his scent, one Sam recognised. The creature sniffed the air and growled; this time the sound contained less malevolence. “Catch me if you can,” Bobby said, shifted, spun, and fled. Sam followed.

  On the floor at Chantelle’s feet, Manning sobbed.

  * * * *

  Though surefooted, Bobby moved so fast he slipped several times; had to turn his face aside to avoid a few branches. Some snagged into his fur, pulling on his pelt. The human part of Bobby flinched; the animal half was too mired in the thrill of the hunt to care. This time he was the one being chased, but as he intended to be caught, he found it thrilling.

  There was nothing in the black surroundings, no sound aside from the wind, the first owl of the night hooting, and still Bobby ran. He’d be cold when he changed back into a man, and he needed to take Sam to a place where they would be safe, sheltered, where they could mate without interruption. He didn’t know if they’d make it. Sam was fast. A strange pride speared through Bobby, making no sense, but undeniable. Sam had survived the change where many others didn’t. Did the human part of Sam understand he ran? When he shifted, Bobby would need to call to that part of Sam’s nature. Chantelle feared what he was doing, but Bobby was sure—so sure—Sam loved him enough. Bobby planned to use sex and the joy of the run to bring Sam back to them.

  The clearing opened to a basin surrounded by trees arching overhead, creating a canopy. Even bare of leaves, the spread of branches was so dense and the bowl of the earth so deep as to offer shelter. The spread of fallen leaves lay so thick they still decayed. The dog in Bobby didn’t care about mud and dirt. In the centre, Bobby waited for Sam to reach the edge where he paused—an animal sensing a trap, giving Bobby a clear view.

  Moonlight caught Sam’s eyes, making them flash yellow and white. Sam’s creature was bulkier than Sam’s human shape. The sides of the face still resembled something of the man, but his muzzle extended to contain rows of sharp, white teeth. Fine hair covered Sam’s body, his pelt thicker on his back, finer on his belly. His sex…Human genitals grew hard under Bobby’s gaze. Bobby prepared himself and changed.

  He didn’t have the time to rest. He needed to talk to Sam right away, prepared to move back into husky form to escape. He might manage it once more, but it would hurt, as taking command of himself speared him with pain now.

  “Sam.” Bobby forced his mouth to work, although his jaw still recollected what it was to be dog shaped, and struggled to operate. The creature’s head jerked. Sam advanced a short way over the rim of the basin. “Come to me, Sam. Run to me. Look at yourself, Sam. See how far you’ve run. You’ve run all that way, following me.”

  As Bobby continued to speak, he moved closer. After a moment, Sam moved toward him. They would meet off-centre. The question was what Sam would do? Bobby hoped he would change. He didn’t want to fuck a dog-man although he would if given no other option, if that was what it took to bring Sam back to him.

  “You’ve chased me all this way. We’ve run…What? Five miles? You’ve chased me, Sam.” They were a couple of feet apart now. “You’ve chased me and caught me. We can run together, Sam. Now. Always.” Now a few inches remained between them. “Next time we can run side by side. And when we stop running…” Bobby reached out skimming his fingers through Sam’s fur. “When we stop running, we can fuck.”

  * * * *

  I know this man. He’s…mine. No. I’m…his. The animal inside Sam howled its denial. His beast was formidable, wanting to lead. The human part of Sam wanted to love.

  Bobby loves me.

  If he loves me why did he do this to me?

  Sam stared down the length of his body. These were his limbs. He knew they were. He sent thoughts, impulses, to them, and they moved, but he didn’t recognise them.

  Noooooo! A howl came from his non-human mouth.

  “Sam? Come back to me, Sam.”

  Hands slid, one on each side of his…muzzle? No. Face. My face. A smell assaulted him, spoke of love and safety. Home. Bobby’s smell. The familiarity of the scent cleared his head a little. The run had too. The dash had burned off a little of the…Sam searched for the word. Adrenaline. Yeah, that. The run had burned off the hormonal rush seething through him.

  I’m beast.

  I’m human.

  Bobby is both. I can be too.

  He didn’t know what had happened to him. Agony. Chantelle bending over him. Bobby.

  Sam. Here, Sam. Catch me if you can.

  Running. There was no pain in his leg and he’d run on it.

  “You’re safe, Sam. You can learn to control this. Next time
you’ll remember who you are. And I’ll help you. Me and Chantelle. For now, all I want you to do is come back to me.”

  Sam longed to; he wasn’t sure how. Trying to say so, his voice came out in a growl. His frustration spilled over. His fear.

  Blinking, Sam opened his eyes to the realisation he’d rushed Bobby, pushed him over on his back. His jaw closed on Bobby’s throat. Flicking out his tongue, he tasted Bobby’s pulse. The anticipation of someone else’s fear made Sam’s inner beast salivate. His animal flinched in surprise when Bobby’s response wasn’t as Sam animal’s expected. Bobby curled his arms around Sam’s neck.

  “I’d rather have you in full human form to fuck, Sam, but we’ll do it any way we have to. I love you.”

  Love?

  Sam lifted his head, met Bobby’s stare, and noticed…peace, acceptance, and love. He smelled those things coming from Bobby too. Concern. Trust also. Bobby trusted Sam to be self-aware enough not to rip out his throat.

  He thinks I want to fuck more than I want to…To what? Kill? Devour? Sam didn’t want to do any of those things. His animal wanted a fight, but Bobby was right. Both Sam and his beast wanted to fuck more than fight.

  He wanted to change, tried to ask Bobby how, unable to form words.

  “Relax, Sam. The change will come to you.”

  Sam wasn’t sure he could wait. He lunged for Bobby’s throat—but licked instead of bit. Bobby’s skin tasted musky and salty. Also of blood. My blood. Sam pushed aside the flashback, unable to face what had happened. He licked all kinds of flavours from Bobby’s skin, moving along his body, lapping at his nipples, his ribs, his navel, tongue rasping over the man’s cock, which hardened in response. Bobby’s legs fell open, willing, and Sam lunged for his ball sac.

  Fingers tangled in his hair. Bobby sighed, bent his knees, and tilted his pelvis. Sam moved to Bobby’s cock, took it deep in his throat. He placed his hands—human hands—on Bobby’s thighs. He’d shifted without knowing. Peering along the line of Bobby’s body, he met Bobby’s gaze, the other man grinning at him.

  “I knew you wanted to fuck me more than fight me.”

  Sam pulled off Bobby’s cock, licking his lips. “Smug bastard.”

  Bobby laughed, but the sound petered off. He must have seen something of Sam’s emotions in his eyes or his expression. Or smelled it. Something gave Sam away; it didn’t matter what.

  “Don’t think of today. Don’t linger on what’s happened. Don’t question it. Don’t question what you’ve become. Know I had no choice. It was that or lose you. And I couldn’t.” Bobby’s eyes burned in the darkness almost as if he were still in dog form. One eye soft and warm, the other cold and hard. Two sides of Bobby’s personality, both loving, defensive of Sam and Chantelle.

  “I love you, Sam. I couldn’t let you go without both of us fighting for your life. My battle was to be strong enough to bring you across. Your fight was to make your way back to your human self. You’ve done so; next time won’t be so hard, and it’ll get easier. So easy. I promise you.” Bobby moved under him, reaching for him. “Fuck with me, Sam. Come to me.”

  Sam licked his lips again. “You’re Alpha.”

  “True. But it doesn’t mean I can’t lie on my back if I’m in the mood. Make love with me, Sam. Let everything else slip away.”

  * * * *

  Although Sam had reverted to his human form, he seemed to want to rub all over Bobby. Not that Bobby complained. Sam rubbed his face over Bobby’s thighs and knees while running his hands along his legs from his ankles. As soon as his head was within reach, Bobby ran his fingers through Sam’s hair again.

  “When Chantelle suggested we love each other, I thought her crazy. I…cared for you, Sam. Loved you to a degree. I wanted to keep you safe and with us. I didn’t expect to fall this hard, Sam.” He waited for Sam’s gaze to flick his way. “I want you in me.” True; he let Sam see his desire.

  “Chantelle.” Sam spoke her name on a breath.

  “Oh, I’m sure she’d like to watch, and she will, another time, another place. This is for you and me, Sam. Have no fear; she’ll understand. We almost lost you today. She knows. Trust me, there’s no hint of jealousy in her. There never will be. We’re a family. It doesn’t matter if we’re not always together as three.”

  “You’re wrong. I sense her absence.” He stared toward the rim of the clearing. “I sense it in a way I never did before.”

  “That’s because she’s pack. It’s because…” Bobby hesitated.

  “I’m different?”

  “A little, yes. You’re still Sam. And it doesn’t matter she’s not here, you’ll still sense her as pack. The fact you do says what she means to you.”

  Sam didn’t argue, didn’t speak. He worked on moving along Bobby’s body doing the same things he’d done to him on the way in reverse, now with a human tongue. The sensations he produced proved no less effective. This time, Sam continued past Bobby’s neck to his mouth.

  Their tongues danced, exchanging emotion and desire. Sam broke the kiss by licking Bobby’s lips in an obscene and more intimate fashion than the kiss had been.

  “Make me feel good, Sam.” Bobby lay down a challenge. “Make us both feel good.” He spread his legs wider, inviting.

  Working his way back with his lips and tongue, Sam reached his goal faster this time. Bobby suspected what was coming. Sam’s beast still rode him and had no qualms about sex. Not that Sam had many himself. Bobby’s body clenched a little in anticipation. A puff of hot breath assaulted his nether regions; Sam dove in.

  Bobby almost cried out; the animal in him rejoiced, wouldn’t let him resist, as Sam’s lips and tongue rimmed him, even sucking. When fingers pressed in, opening him, Bobby did everything to force his body to obey his command: relax. He’d never had another man inside him. He’d had toys, Sam knew. Chantelle and he had no qualms about exploring each other’s bodies. Though it hadn’t occurred to Bobby before, but knowing the fact must have driven Sam crazy. Would have if he wasn’t so willing to submit to Bobby’s will. Sam hesitated.

  “I’m sure,” Bobby told him, before his lover questioned. He wrapped his legs around Sam to urge him on. In.

  “Is this good?”

  Good question. Should an Alpha be enjoying this?

  “It’s good because it’s you.” He stroked Sam’s face, grinning. “But get no ideas about who’s boss.”

  “Never.” Sam kissed his neck, dripping sweat, little splatters of salty goodness Bobby licked from his skin. He pulled on Sam’s hips, dragging him tight against him.

  Sam gasped out, “I guess you…really…can’t stop…being Alpha.”

  “Would you want me to?” Bobby’s swirled his tongue in Sam’s ear. Curling their bodies tighter, clinging on, Bobby lowered his tone to a sex-heated whisper. “This all you got, Sam? Can’t you…fill me?”

  He goaded him, and Sam growled—a human growl making Bobby chuckle. Truth was, Sam was balls deep, Bobby’s legs a vice not letting him thrust. Bobby savoured the stretch before he allowed Sam movement. “Fuck me, Sam.” The demand was an order, and Sam would never disobey one of Bobby’s commands.

  Despite having the upper hand even on his back, Sam’s movements made Bobby shudder. This would not be a slow sharing of love.

  “I need—Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Bobby interpreted Sam’s words and ensuing moan to mean he needed to come. Not far behind him, Bobby took Sam’s hand to his cock, thrust into his accommodating fist.

  Fuck me, Sam.

  He wanted it. For the first time in his life, he wanted it, and it didn’t matter if this was the one time Sam poured all his desires and emotions, his love, into him. He was giving Sam something Sam likely didn’t even need, but the giving was all-important. Sam knew it too. Took. Accepted. Easy to tell from the way Sam arched their bodies together, the way he held fast to Bobby’s dick, the way he tried to fuse them into one being. The way his lips crushed Bobby’s against his teeth.

  Sounds, some real, some his imaginati
on, reverberated between them. Gasps, moans, groans, growls and snarls. The waves of climax flashed through Bobby, Sam shuddering against him. Their breath eased up even as they clung, their bodies twitching from aftershocks, neither man inclined to move. Minutes passed in which neither spoke.

  “Is it me, or is it fucking freezing?” Sam whispered.

  “It’s snowing. Told you it would snow well in time for Christmas.”

  Blinking as he lifted his head, little white flakes settled in Sam’s hair, brushed over his cheeks and fluttered onto Bobby’s face.

  “So next, hypothermia?” Sam sounded a little concerned, amused, without the energy to care.

  A third voice broke into the clearing. “I thought you two would come to your senses. It’s possible to die out here.”

  The two men swivelled their heads and gazed across the clearing. A flashlight flicked on. Holding the light beneath her chin, Chantelle shined it on her face. Recalling how he’d told Chantelle to leave them out here Bobby felt sheepish. Good job at least one of them had thought beyond him and Sam having sex.

  “I guessed you’d come here. I’ve brought the car as close as I can. I have blankets.” She shook out said covers.

  Bobby had to admit right now blankets and transportation sounded as hot as the idea Chantelle had stood watching for at least part of the performance.

  Chapter 9

  “Is he still ranting?” Not that Bobby cared, but he could hope.

  “So I hear.”

  “Drugs?”

  “Nothing in his system should have caused this. The docs believe his mind snapped.”

  “Release?”

  “I don’t think you need fear that. He went after one of their own like his brother did. This is the second time one of the Mannings have put Chantelle at risk. You and Sam as well, of course.”

  Bobby pursed his lips. They’d twisted the truth, so all their stories made sense, and no questions would land any of them in hospital for serious mental and health checks.

  “On top, even when, or if, he stops ranting about wolfmen and monsters, he’ll be undergoing treatment for years. They can’t even remove the straitjacket.”