Claimed By My Pretend Boyfriend: Blackwater Pack Book Six

by Liam Kingsley

  Just as soon as I slid my hands down to grab at his rump, Tripp pulled away.

  “I have to go. I really do have a video to shoot tomorrow,” he whispered apologetically.

  “Do you genuinely want my help?” I asked.

  Tripp bit down on his bottom lip and nodded. His cheeks were flushed from sitting so close to the fire, and I reached out to rub his soft, red skin with my thumb. He sighed contentedly and held my hand against his face as he nuzzled into my palm.

  “I'll come by your studio at nine?” I asked softly.

  “Hm? Oh, no – location shoot tomorrow. I'll pick you up,” he said dreamily, then planted a soft kiss on my fingertips. I took a deep breath and gave an even deeper sigh as I let my hand drop, and opened the door for him.

  “Text me when you get home safe?” I asked.

  “This is Blackwater, not Brooklyn,” he rolled his eyes, stood on his toes and kissed my cheeks. “But of course I will anyway. Night!”

  As I closed the door behind him, my heart fluttered and my wolf whimpered. I put my hand on my chest and took a deep, cleansing breath.

  Back in the kitchen, the turpentine smell had evaporated but the dish soap was stronger than ever. Nona was piling plates into the kitchen sink full of water and had, as always, used way too much detergent. Suds were overflowing and sloshing all over the kitchen floor.

  “You'd be a damn fool to let that one go,” she said as I came to stand beside her at the sink. She passed me a plate and I sunk it into the water, sending another wave of suds out and onto the floor.

  I sighed and nodded. “It was supposed to be a make-believe relationship but now... Well... Maybe... I don't know if it's pretend anymore.”

  I felt a sudden smack on the side of my head.

  “Hey!” I hissed, bringing my hand up to nurse where Nona had just hit me with her palm.

  “No shit, Deck – of course it's not pretend. If you can't see how crazy Tripp is about you, then you need to have your eyes checked,” she let out her own sigh, and shook her head as she passed me the empty lasagna pan. It was heavy as hell, but the sink was already overflowing. I held it in my hands and looked down at it, like it would give me the strength to admit the truth.

  “I think I might be a bit crazy about him too,” I mumbled quietly.

  “Oh, you think?” Nona laughed, and finally started to do some of the dishes. I felt my cheeks burning at the mention of my feelings for Tripp, and just about dropped the lasagna dish with how embarrassed I felt. Nona looked at me and let out a concerned groan.

  She took the lasagna dish out of my hands and sloshed it into the water. I felt relieved when I let go of the weight of it, but she said, “There's no shame in caring about Tripp.”

  “It's all just happened really fast,” I grumbled. “I used to hate the guy...”

  “Well, Deck, love doesn't work on real time,” she said, and I bit my tongue from reacting to the word “love”. She went on, “When it happens, it happens. When you know, you know. When it's real, it's real. We're shifters, and our animal halves don't give a shit if it's been two years or two hours.”

  “Or two decades?” I asked cautiously.

  “Time's fake, catch up,” she laughed, and then softened to say, “Even two decades. If your wolf is telling you anything about Tripp, you’d better listen up.”

  “It's telling me a lot,” I grumbled.

  “I knew I loved your grandfather on the third date,” she said.

  I glanced at her and she smiled coyly. “But my wolf knew on the first.”

  I smiled at Nona and nodded. I got it.

  I helped her tidy the rest of the kitchen, and took out the trash. I gave myself a moment outside to take in a deep, relaxing breath. Things had taken such a good turn. I'd admitted my crush to Tripp, things were going well with him, and I wouldn't have to convince my parents of anything – for once, I'd just have to tell them the truth.

  Or so I thought.

  It was pitch black when a rapid banging sound filtered into my dreams. I groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets up over my head. It didn't give up, and I huffed as I lay on my back, thinking about all the ways I could get back at my neighbors for being so loud in the middle of the night. Slowly but surely, my brain clicked into place and I realized it wasn't coming from upstairs, or from deep in my subconscious – it was coming right from my front door.

  Panic shot through me and my eyes flicked open. Tripp hadn't replied to my message, asking if he'd gotten home safe. What if he was in trouble? What if he was pounding on my door because he needed my help?

  I sprang out of bed and rushed to the door, unbolting it as quickly as I could. I pulled it open and found myself face-to-face with Tripp, dressed in yoga pants and an oversized sweater than hung off his shoulders and down past his wrists. He was lit by the unflattering stairwell lighting, but still looked flawless. Flawless, and completely safe – no sign of trouble, and no sign of panic on his face either.

  “Ready?” he asked as he tilted his head. I squinted into the light and watched as the bun wobbled on top of his head.

  “What?” I croaked.

  “I made us some morning juice with fresh turmeric and galangal – have you ever been to Bali?” he gibbered.

  I squinted.

  He stopped talking and looked me over.

  “You're not ready,” he said.

  “For what?!”

  “Um, video?” he huffed and put his hands on his waist as he kicked his hips to one side.

  “What are you talking about?” I hissed. “And keep your voice down, or my neighbors are going to kill me.”

  “Video,” he whispered. “You said that you'd help me film!”

  “It's the middle of the night! I thought you were going to come over at ten or something,” I groaned and ran a hand over my face.

  “Uh, it's five o’clock in the morning and we need to be at the top of the mountain by six if we're going to get any sunrise shots.”

  “Hey, keep it down!” a groan from upstairs filtered through the stairwell. I shot Tripp a look and he just rolled his eyes.

  “You didn't say anything about sunrise,” I whispered.

  “You didn't ask! That's on you,” he said. “Are you coming or what?”

  “Go with him and let us get some sleep!” another neighbor yelled.

  “Oh, god, I don't know. I don't know!” I huffed, suddenly completely unsure what the hell I was doing.

  “I mean, I made you a green juice...” he said coyly swinging back and forth and biting on his bottom lip. As much as it pained me to admit it, he was irresistible. Who could say no that face?

  “Fuck,” I sighed. “Fine. Wait in the car, I'll be right down.”

  I climbed into Tripp's car unshowered, cranky, and dressed in the first hiking outfit I grabbed from my closet. It was deeply unfashionable, especially compared to Tripp's designer outfit, but at least it was warm. The cold air followed me into the car and I rubbed my hands together as Tripp switched on the headlights and headed towards Main Street.

  “Can you turn on the heat?” I asked grumpily.

  “Can you not try and destroy the environment with climate change before the end of the next decade?” he snapped.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Uh, yes, I am serious, the environment is a serious issue. I'm not going to burn fuel on heat when my body is perfectly capable of keeping itself warm.”

  “Isn't this car electric?”

  “Shut up and drink up,” he snapped, handing me a reusable cup. “The juice has some cayenne pepper in it, it'll warm you up so you can stop being such a moody bitch.”

  I sniffed at the cup suspiciously and took a cautious sip. He was right – I felt warmed up from my tongue to my stomach, and back again. It tasted like shit but it did the job, and I finished the drink. By the time we'd driven across Blackwater Creek and halfway up the mountainside, I was wide awake and in a much better mood.

  We pulled off the road and h
iked a short way through the dark woods to an east-facing outcrop that looked out over the entire Blackwater area. I stood near the edge of the cliff and looked out at the Montanan mountains in the distance, barely silhouetted against the matte sky at the early hours of dawn.

  “I’m going with a stationary camera shot, so I'd love your help with the sound, if you're up for it?” Tripp asked as he came up behind me.

  “Sure thing,” I turned and grinned at him. “Want me to monitor the levels?”

  I watched as a smile of relief washed over his face. “I'm glad you know what you're talking about. Exactly. I was thinking we should use a boom mic, but with the wind I'm thinking a body mic would be better,” he said, chewing his bottom lip and looking at a flat area where he wanted to create the set.

  “I think you're right – but we could do both,” I offered.

  “Oh!” he said, raising his eyebrows. “We can? I've never done that before.”

  “Yeah, it's easy. I mean, I can set it up for you,” I smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

  “I knew I needed you,” he said, and I felt my breath catch in my throat as he blinked slowly and beamed at me.

  “Yeah, you did,” I said, trying not to smile too widely.

  “I need to warm up,” Tripp said, suddenly turning away. “You all right to get things set up?”

  “Sure, yeah, go for it,” I said a little too enthusiastically.

  I knelt down and scoured through the sound case, but kept glancing up at Tripp as he stretched on his mat. I worked at unraveling a cord for the boom mic and watched as he stood at the edge of the mat. He was facing away from me and I had a clear view of his ass, round and plump in his yoga pants. His hoodie grazed the middle of his rump with the hem cutting across the thickest part of his butt. As he lifted his arms, more of his ass was exposed and it jiggled as he shifted his legs apart. I stopped unraveling the cord. I was transfixed. He bent forward. His ass went up in the air, and the bulge of his balls were visible from between his legs. A surge of heat pulsed through my cock and I let my eyes trace the contour of his butt, his thighs, and down to his tight calves.

  Suddenly, I found him smirking at me, upside down, from between his legs.

  “Get back to work, lackey,” he grinned, then moved into another stretch. Heat rushed into my cold cheeks, but I still couldn't take my eyes off his butt. It was so perfectly round and plump. The idea of smacking it with my hand made my head spin. I took a deep breath and refocused on untangling the mic cord, but couldn't quite get rid of the image of fucking him from behind while he was in that pose.

  Through some seriously thick brain fog, I managed to get everything set up for the boom audio, and made my way over to him with the body mic in my hand. Tripp looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. I felt like I was moving in slow motion. Loose strands of hair from his bun were blowing around his face. His eyes were shining in the early morning light. As I came closer, I could smell his musk already flowing from his warm-up and it sent a thrill through my body.

  He turned, and kept his eyes on me.

  I didn't say a word. I reached out and clipped the mic to his outfit.

  “Thank you,” he said softly, almost so quietly that I couldn't hear him over the wind. He took off his hoodie and handed it to me.

  I strapped on the boom recording system and stood at the edge of the frame. We ran through a few tests and were ready to go as the sun began peeking over the top of the distant mountains, painting the heavy clouds a fluorescent pink and orange.

  “Rolling!” I said.

  “Hey, yogis and yoginis, welcome to another video with me – Tripp. Let's start the day right.”

  I watched him move into his flow, and did my best to keep my eyes on the sound levels for both mics, adjusting for the wind and moving the boom to hover right above him as he moved around his mat. By the time he got to the last half of his class, the wind had died down and the sound levels were predictable and steady. I was able to watch him without distraction and basked in the thrill of knowing that he was mine to kiss.

  By the time he wrapped up the class, the sun was high in the sky and I was practically drooling.

  “Namaste,” he bowed his head and held the silence for a good ten seconds before looking up and yelping, “Cut!”

  I laughed, cut the sound and the camera, and got the equipment off my body as quickly as possible. I hurried over to Tripp as he was shaking off his mat, which he immediately dropped as I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind.

  “Oh!” he squealed, and then leaned back against me.

  I kissed his neck and growled into his ear, “Thanks for waking me up early to watch that.”

  He let out a trilling laugh and tilted his neck to expose more to my lips. “Thank you for helping me… How can I repay you?”

  “Mm, I can think of something,” I moaned, and licked from the base of his neck up to his ear.

  He let out a husky groan, and then a whimper as I took his earlobe into my mouth. A thrill rushed through me and my cock started straining in my pants, pushing against him.

  Tripp let out a deep sigh and lamented, “I wish I could, but I have so much work to do.”

  He darted away, squirmed out of my arms, and picked up his mat. He paused for a moment and looked at me curiously before he asked, “You said it was okay to take our time with this, right?”

  “It’s completely okay,” I smiled reassuringly. My heart throbbed harder than my cock.

  “Okay,” he let out a relieved sigh. “Because I’m still totally into you. I genuinely have so much work to edit and upload, it’s not just an excuse.”

  “It’s seriously okay,” I reassured him. “But it doesn't stop me from wanting you.”

  We spent the next two weeks flitting back and forth between restaurants, his studio, and my field. I was kept busy with football practice when I wasn’t kept busy with Tripp, and before we knew it, it was time for Lasagna Thursday and my parents were due to arrive any minute. I worried that I hadn’t given Tripp enough of a warning about how terrible my parents truly were, but I’d been distracted by kissing him and bickering with him about lighting… I’d barely even recognized how anxious I was becoming as the day approached.

  But now Tripp and Nona were laughing at each other in the kitchen while I fussed around the dining room. I set the table, placed out napkins, decided it looked too formal, redid it with other napkins, decided it looked too shabby, and put it back the way it was originally. I was standing back and scowling at the finished product when the doorbell rang.

  The background chatter from the kitchen immediately stopped. Silence pulsed through the whole house. I made my way to the door, swallowed nervously, and pulled it open.

  “Oh, you're looking well,” my mother said as she kissed both of my cheeks.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said, almost falling for the compliment before she added her sting.

  “But then again,” she laughed to my father who stood beside her, “I suppose I'd be in the best shape of my life if I had time to do little more than exercise!”

  Dad's jaw clenched, but he let out a short chuckle. I took in a sharp breath and was seriously considering shutting the door in their faces when Nona came out of nowhere and threw her arms around my dad.

  “Oh, my little man, it's so good to see you,” she said, squeezing him tight. His face softened into a warm grin as he closed his eyes and hugged her back. Mom's lips pursed and her whole face looked like it was going to squeeze up so tight that it would implode of itself.

  “Hello, Charlotte,” Nona hissed.

  “Hello,” my mother said curtly before she pushed past us into the hall. My dad followed and Nona rolled her eyes at me.

  “Sure, c'mon in,” I sighed, and shut the door behind them.

  “Oh!” my mother said, sounding surprised. I turned, and almost let out an “oh” of my own. Tripp emerged from the kitchen, wearing a warm, welcoming smile.

  “Mrs. Hayes-Savage,” he said
, holding out a hand, “A pleasure to see you.”

  She took it slowly and Tripp shook delicately, like he was meeting the Queen of England.

  “I know you,” was all she had to say to him.

  “Yes, don't we know you?” Dad asked, stepping forward and squinting at Tripp.

  “Well duh, he is famous,” Nona said, rolling her eyes and pushing past everyone.

  “No, from a long time ago... Were you in school with Decker?” my mother pried.

  Tripp cleared his throat and nodded. That warm smile was fading.

  “Weren't you quite a handful, as I recall?” she pushed.

  “Yes, I was,” Tripp emphasized the past tense.

  “Yes, you stayed in quite a bit of trouble if I recall,” my dad chimed in, pointing at him.

  A sinking feeling started to rumble in my stomach. I caught Nona's gaze and she rolled her eyes.

  Tripp shrugged and kept smiling at them, though the corners of his lips twitched a little. “I was young. A lot has changed for me since then.”

  “Hm,” my mother said, and then gave my dad some kind of look that I was familiar with – it was a stuck-up way of saying “what a load of bullshit”.

  “All right, dinner's almost ready, hope you brought your appetites along with your attitudes,” Nona snapped. “Go wash up, you two. You stink like an airplane.”

  My dad chuckled, but Mom huffed and headed towards the bathroom, and he quickly followed her down the hall.

  “Uh, I'm sorry,” I said to Tripp.

  “Oh, it's fine,” he said, waving me off. “I'm sure we just got off on the wrong foot.”

  “No, I mean, I'm sorry in advance. That was a good meeting.”

  “Oh!” Tripp said, and let out a short laugh.

  “Deck's right. They can be much worse. In fact, they might be,” Nona warned.

  “Great, I can't wait,” he sighed. “Let's get this over with, then.”

  12