by R K Knightly
He wasn't.
"Have fun getting that all out of your system?" his father asked as Liam stepped off the last stair into the living room.
"You didn't listen," Liam stated. At least he hoped to God he hadn't.
"The hell I didn't," his father exclaimed. "Wolf hearing, remember? This place isn't exactly soundproof. You need to work on your dirty talk, by the way. Hackneyed if you ask me."
Liam rolled his eyes to hide the frisson of embarrassment he felt.
"Whatever, old man," Liam said. "Quit listening to me or I'll make you wait for grandkids."
"Please. With the amount of semen you probably pumped into that poor girl, I'd be surprised if she didn't have triplets. Nice stamina by the way."
"Pregnancy doesn't work that way," Liam said, flustered. Why were they having this conversation again? He was so glad his mother wasn't here to witness this. "You want anything to eat? I'm making sandwiches or I can heat up some leftovers for you."
"I already ate," Conley told his son. "Your girl's a good cook. Chicken parm the way it was meant to taste."
Figured. The man could probably sniff out a good chicken parm at fifty paces.
"I told her I loved her," Liam said, opening the fridge door to grab the sandwich fixings.
Well, at least that confession stopped his father from speaking more to him about sex. There was only so much a man could take in a day, and Liam had overshot it by a fucking mile.
"You did." It wasn't a question. "Good for you, kid."
"That's it?" Liam asked as he took out some bread. "No but did you mean it? or did she say it back?"
His father shrugged.
"It’s not half as interesting as talking about your sex life," Conley told him. "Plus, I could already tell you love her and she probably said it back. I can tell that she does love you. I'm just surprised that you couldn't."
"I hoped," Liam said with a shrug. "And she did say it back, in case you were wondering."
"Well, let's pound it out," Conley said, shoving a fist at his son. Liam looked at it like it was a newly discovered species of cockroach.
"What?"
"Pound it out, you idiot," Conley said, pausing. "Jesus Christ, pound your fucking fist against my fist. It's called pounding it out."
"I know what it means, I'm just surprised an old fossil like you does as well," Liam retorted.
"Bah...Arden's mate's always saying shit like that to his kid," Conley said. "Got it from him. Makes the little one giggle like crazy. Thinks it's fucking hysterical or whatever. Speaking of hysterical, Caleb said something about having a Halloween party. Colleen's doing, I'll bet."
"And Elle's," Liam said as he smeared mayo onto a piece of bread. "Since events are something Elle's not that great at, Colleen's helping her out. She lives for that shit."
"What you going as to this shindig? It's this Friday, right?"
"Yeah. Elle had a good idea, at least," Liam said as he plated some chips to eat with the sandwiches. "She wants us to go as Elvis and Priscilla Presley."
His father looked at him.
"60s or 70s Presley? 'Cause if I see you in a bejeweled one-piece, I'm taking pictures and blowing them up for your mother. She'll laugh herself silly."
"60s, of course," Liam said, rolling his eyes. "Not even Elle could get me into a bedazzled one-piece with a neckline down to my belly button."
"She probably could," Conley argued lightly as he grabbed the bag of chips and threw some into his mouth.
"Yeah, you're probably right," Liam admitted. He'd probably do a lot of stupid things he never thought he'd do for Elle.
"Well, it's good that you’re self-aware," Conley told him with a grin.
"Quiet, old man," Liam told him, cutting him with a glare. "Don't even deny that you'd do the same for your mate."
"Yeah, but I'm old and can blame it on my advancing senility."
Liam sighed and shook his head. There was no winning with this man.
"Just don't tease Elle about walking in on us before or...anything that happened after that," Liam told him. "She's embarrassed enough. You don't need to make it widely known that we spent the last several hours up there trying to knock her up with your grandkids."
“Ah! So, you are trying," Conley said gleefully. "I can't wait to tell your mother. She's gonna be fucking thrilled."
Liam went to respond, but let it slide. Whenever he told his father to do or say something, the man usually did the exact opposite. It was time to quit while he was ahead.
Instead, he took the two plates, two bottles of water, and went back upstairs to his tired, hungry, and probably chafed mate.
Chapter 32
Liam inspected himself in the mirror. He had on dark blue jeans, a striped black and white shirt, and a jean jacket on. He was Elvis à la Jailhouse Rock. Elle had coiffed his hair in a ridiculous-on-anyone-but-the-King pompadour, and had to use nearly an entire bottle of hairspray on his head to keep his long hair in place. He was certain he had the stuff up his nose and under his fingernails. The shit made his scalp itch, and Elle nagged at him not to touch her masterpiece.
"Liam, stop it!" she yelled at him. "You're going to ruin your hair!"
"I can't help it," he told her. "You used up half that crazy bottle solely on my head. It itches like hell."
"I have ten times the amount of hair you do," she scolded. "How do you think I feel?"
That was true enough. Elle had teased her hair into a moderate bouffant and was now using the rest of the spray to get it to stay. She wore cat's eye makeup and a light pink, shimmery lipstick she had purchased the day before when she went shopping.
"How does this look?" she asked. Liam looked her up and down. She would have made a hot 60s chick any day of the week, but he was irritable and grumpy at the amount of follicular torture he’d had to endure, and it showed.
"Well, the hairstyle is ridiculous, but you can rock it better than most," he told her.
"What a rave review," she said, rolling her eyes. "It was the style back then. I'm not looking to have it revisited. It's a Halloween party, for Pete's sake. Act like The King and not like a grumpy old goat."
"I'll try not to bring the party vibe down," he told her petulantly as he struggled not to thrust his fingers through his helmet of hair as he was wont to do. How the hell did these guys function without being able to thread their fingers through their hair when they got irritated?
"Good," she said to him. "Then I won't have to bring out the big guns if you start getting all brooding and sullen."
"Sullen? And what are the big guns? You going to tempt me with your sweet pussy if I act like a good boy?"
"Nope, but I was thinking of withholding it if you didn't start cheering up already," she told him. "Have fun for once, Liam. Even your father looks like he's going to have a blast."
His father, much to his chagrin, had decided to go as a Bond villain. The one with the scar below his eye, sans the feline. Felines didn't generally take too kindly to being around this many wolves – or anything of the canine species in particular – even if there was one around to be had. Animals just fucking knew. When Liam had asked his father why he chose that particular character, his father had simply shrugged and said, "chicks dig scars".
It was maddening. It was like dealing with a horny teen and not his middle-aged father. Who the hell was the adult in this equation?
"Fine, I'll have fun. Be happy," Liam said, his eyes rolling to the ceiling. "Even if it fucking kills me."
"Drama queen, er...King, or whatever," she said lightly.
"Just The King, baby," Liam said, doing his best impression of Elvis. Needless to say, it fell well short of the mark.
"Even your Elvis is drab," she told him. "Try a little hip action, get into the swing of being The King."
"I prefer all my hip action happening with fewer people watching us," he told her with a smirk. It was as close to The King as Liam could get, apparently.
"Ugh, you're impossible," she told
him, giving up.
"You don't say that when I'm deep in you," he told her and came up behind her to press his hips against her ass. Hard. As always.
"Lee!" she scolded.
"Ugh, I think that did it," Liam groaned. "You called me Lee just like Colleen does. I immediately wilted."
"So, Lee doesn't do it for you?" she asked, snickering. "This is important information I will mentally file away to ruminate on at a later time."
Liam groaned again.
There was a knock on their door.
"What the hell, you two?" Conley's voice blared through the wood of the door to their bedroom. "I know you two ain't doing the nasty in there or else I'd have heard it, so what's taking so damned long?"
"Who calls it "the nasty" anymore?" Liam asked lowly, mostly to himself.
"Old farts like me and pre-teens," Conley answered, having heard his son. "Now move your asses before I come in there and interrupt your little pow-wow."
That got them moving before the man walked in on them yet again.
∞∞∞
"Just stand there and look confused. It's easy," Elle instructed Colleen, who couldn't figure out how her costume as 'Bella' from Twilight fame should look. She was pretty much dressed normally, though she had gotten herself a long brown wig. She had yet to adopt the dopey look on Kristen Stewart's face that had two supernatural males drooling over her somehow. Maybe she had too many brain cells to pull it off.
Colleen opened her mouth and tried to widen her eyes.
"No. Now you just look confused and constipated," Elle told her. "Stick with your regular face and just hang around Blake. They'll get it once they see he's shirtless and has a round stick-on tattoo on his arm."
Blake, of course, was wearing khaki shorts and had stuck the round tattoo on his bicep to try to look like the third spoke in the love triangle between human, vampire, and werewolf.
"You should have had my Dad come as Edward from that shitty movie," Liam told Colleen. "He's pale enough and thinks he's pretty enough to try to pass himself off. Get him some plastic fangs and he'd be good to go."
"They don't have fangs in the movie," Colleen told him. He just replied with a shrug that indicated he couldn’t care less.
"Whatever," Liam said and took a sip of beer. It was obvious he wasn’t a fan of the franchise.
They’d decided to have the party deejayed by one of the older teens, and Elle was pretty surprised. There was a nice mix of songs that showed he was in touch with music from the contemporary all the way back into the 70s. It allowed almost everyone to find a song they liked to dance to.
Dancing Queen started to play and Colleen's eyes lit up in the darkened room.
"Shit! I love ABBA!" she cried and pulled Elle along with her to the dance floor. Elle couldn't help but laugh and follow along. ABBA was a guilty pleasure for her as well. That band knew how to write a damned catchy tune. It was the earworm of all earworms for Elle, though she preferred Mama Mia over Dancing Queen.
Some of the older members of the pack joined them on the dance floor and the younger generation walked off, some of them with pained expressions on their faces.
Yeah. ABBA wasn't for everyone. Though Blake and Liam were quite entertained.
"God, I hate this album," Blake said to Liam. "Colleen likes to play it while she cleans. She says it motivates her to get her work done, but she mostly just uses the Swiffer duster as a microphone while she sings in front of the mirror." He paused and shuddered. "Trust me, it's not a pretty scene. Col can't sing for shit."
"You love her anyway," Liam said as he watched Elle and Colleen dance together with a small smile on his lips.
"Just like you love Elle," Blake told him. Liam only glanced his way, not denying it. "I can tell. Everyone here can if I'm not mistaken. Hell, I think if the decorations could talk, they'd fucking agree."
"And?"
"And nothing," Blake replied. "The pack is pleased. Happy to see you happy finally. Your dad seems to be pleased as well."
That was true enough. Conley adored Elle, even if he had seen her in a somewhat compromising position earlier that week. He treated her like a daughter. Like he treated Arden. She was as much part of the family to him now as she was to Liam. And he loved that his father took to her so well. Especially after Cecilia.
"He is," Liam said, still watching Elle dance with Colleen. They were laughing as much as they were dancing, if not more. "Treats her better than me, at least."
"That's 'cause she is better than you."
"Shut it, Blake." He paused. "I already know that."
The song came to an end and Colleen and Elle looked to be arguing about something on their way back.
"...I'm just saying, if you had to pick a vamp, I'd pick the hot Nordic looking guy," Elle was saying.
Colleen shook her head vehemently.
"No way," she replied. "Bill is tall, dark, and handsome. Mysterious and brooding. Erik just screams of danger."
"And that's hot," Elle retorted with a smirk.
"What are you two fighting about?" Blake asked.
"True Blood," Colleen explained while jabbing a thumb in the direction of Elle. "She thinks Erik, the vampire sheriff or whatever he is, is much hotter than Bill."
"Because it's true!" Elle cut in, standing her ground.
"Christ," Liam said as he shook his head. "Vampires? Really?"
"There were werewolves in the show as well," Colleen said.
"Hot werewolves," Elle added. Liam looked at her and she shrugged her shoulders. "Joe Mangia-whatever-his-name is, is pretty fine."
"They're fictional," Liam said.
"Played by real people," Colleen added, not helping.
"Yeah, but didn’t he marry that lady with the inexplicable accent?" Elle said, her mouth twisting in distaste.
"Who cares what she says? That Eva something-or-other is hot as well," Blake said. Colleen cut him with a glare. "Oh, what? You can drool over some freaky-ass vamp and I can't say when a woman is fine? Double standards!"
A slow song came on and Liam pulled Elle toward the dance floor before the argument got out of hand. Crazy For You by Madonna was playing now, and he wrapped his arms around Elle's waist as they swayed back and forth in place.
"Erik, the blond vampire in True Blood, eh?" he asked.
She shrugged. "He's good looking. "
"And?"
"You get to see his dick once on screen," she mentioned blithely.
"Go on."
"It looked...small, but it could've been shrinkage. He was sunbathing in the snow."
"Yep, that would do it," Liam said and almost laughed. He pulled her tighter so no space separated them. Honestly. Arguing about fictional characters. It was...too much.
"Are you having a good time?" she asked him. He had pretty much stayed on the sidelines, sipping a beer and chatting with people in the pack.
"The best," he told her, and curled his arm around her waist further.
"You don't seem like it, King," she said smartly. "You've been standing in the corner chatting with Blake and Caleb – or Trace, wherever he is."
"He wandered off with some female," Liam told her. "I can't wait 'til that boy finds his mate. He's gonna wish he wasn't leaving so many damned brokenhearted females in his wake. He's like an F5 tornado of sex."
"Does Caleb have a mate?" She had never seen him with anyone and she remembered the little crush that Colleen admitted to having on him when she was in her teens.
"Not yet, but he's a bit more...discerning with who he goes to bed with," Liam told her.
They were quiet for a bit as they rotated slowly to the rhythm of the song.
"Did you ever...after Cecilia?" Elle asked. "I mean, it's okay if you have, but I was just wondering."
"No, not after Cecilia," Liam said. "I...I couldn't bring myself to touch another female. Not until you. And Lord knows I tried fighting that. Do you know how difficult it is to go to sleep and wake up with a raging hard-on every fucking day?"
Elle laughed and tried to bury it in Liam's chest.
"Hey," Liam said, tipping her head to him. "Don't hide from me. I want to see your face as much as I can while I can." He brought his head down to hers and sucked on her lower lip before scraping his teeth against it in one slow drag. She was too short, though, and he picked her up so that she was at his height. As the kiss ended, he set her slowly back down on the floor and cupped one cheek with his hand.
"Mind if I cut in?" a voice asked from behind Liam.
Liam didn't even turn to address the voice.
"Yes, I do mind, in fact, Sheila. I'm here with my mate and have no desire to dance with anyone else."
"Fine," Sheila said, her voice taking on a hard tone. "But she isn't really your mate. Your true mate's gone."
The bitch was blunt. And rude. And a right old pain in Liam's ass.
"She is my mate, just as much as Cecelia was. More so, even," Liam gritted out. He was starting to lose control of his temper and Elle frowned. Leave it to Sheila to ruin everything.
"He told you to leave," Elle said to her. "He may not have said it outright, but a mentally impaired ape could have read between the lines quicker than you."
Sheila's face turned red with anger before her eyes narrowed and she stomped off into a random direction of the room.
"You would have thought once I took a woman to mate she would leave me alone, but I see she's as pigheaded as ever." Liam shook his head.
"What are you going to do?" Elle asked.
"Ignore her for now," Liam said. "If it happens again, I'll deal with it differently, maybe send her away or something."
"What? Make her rogue?"
"I'm not that malicious," Liam said, shaking his head. "It's a tempting thought, but no. She has relatives in Ohio. I could exile her there and hope that when – or if – she comes back, it's with a little more grace and civility."
Elle snorted her derision.
"When pigs fly," she said.
"Hmm...a flying Trace would be a bother," Liam said offhandedly. "Are you almost ready to go? I want to bury myself in you tonight. Soon. The King needs an heir."