Pleading the Fifth

by Sandrine Gasq-Dion

  “All right, well, I’ll go talk to him, see what the deal is.”

  “I am going home; it has been a long day.”

  “Night, Alexander.”

  Scott went down the hall to the last door. Knocking softly, he pushed through the door. Jesse looked a little pale, but no worse for wear. Scott pulled a chair to the side of the bed and sat down.

  “So, want to tell me how you know about werewolves?”

  “My brothers are werewolves. The gene skipped over me,” Jesse explained. “My dad was a werewolf.”

  “Your mother wasn’t?”

  “Nope, but she knew what he was. They were mated.”

  “Were?” Scott asked.

  “They were killed by rogues; that’s why my brothers and I hunt them. We are looking for the ones that killed them. I’m sure you’ve heard the rogues are migrating to Arizona.”

  Scott nodded. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

  “My brother wants to keep me safe; he knows there are werewolves in Washington State, so he figured I’d be safe here.”

  “Yes, my friends are here. Why wouldn’t you let me help you? I have the Maccon line running through me.”

  Jesse’s eyes widened. “So that shit’s true?”

  “Yes, it’s true. Wayne’s blood heals, but doesn’t change people. I thought that’s why you guys reached out to us?”

  “We needed help. We’ve seen some of you guys in the mines, but kept our distance. Jaxon and Justice used to let me go with them, but now they are too worried about me getting bitten by a rogue.”

  “What’s with the J names?” Scott asked.

  “Really? That’s what you want to know?” Jesse raised a brow. “My mom had a thing for J names.”

  “Why not just change you themselves?”

  “My dad felt that there was a reason why the gene skipped me, so why mess with it?” Jesse looked Scott over. “So, you are a werewolf with the Maccon line running through you.”

  “Yep. You guys are supposed to meet Riley Flynn-Esposito, right?”

  “Yes, Jaxon said something about that.”

  “You’ll love him! Wayne will want to bite your brothers if you decide to merge with us. Your brothers will be safer from rogue bites if the Maccon line is running through them.” Scott took Jesse’s hand. “Are you all right?”

  Jesse looked down at his hand in Scott’s. “I guess so; I don’t know why Walter came after me, or how he knew about me at all.”

  “The rogues have the means to get whatever they want, they are very well funded.” Scott squeezed Jesse’s hand. “Are you afraid of me?”

  “Nah; besides, you’re an awesome kisser,” Jesse said with a grin.

  Scott smoothed Jesse’s hair back from his forehead. “You should get some rest. Have your brothers been informed?”

  Jesse nodded. “Yes, they will be here in the morning.”

  “All right, get some sleep. I’ll pull guard on you.”

  “Oh, I feel better already.” Jesse drawled, smiling.

  “Shut up,” Scott snickered. “I have huge fangs.”

  “I bet that’s not all that’s huge.” Jesse waggled his eyebrows.

  “Shhh, go to sleep.”

  ~~ When Scott opened his eyes, the sun was just rising. He stood up and stretched his back from side to side; sleeping in the chair hadn’t done him any favors. Thank God being a werewolf meant the pain wouldn’t last long. Jesse was still sleeping peacefully, the heart monitor beeping quietly. Scott peeked out the door and looked down the hallway, two men were standing at the nurses’ desk and Scott knew right away they were Jesse’s brothers.

  “Jaxon and Justice?” Scott whispered, motioning to them.

  The two men turned and looked at him. Yeah, they were Jesse’s brothers. The smell of werewolf hit him like a wrecking ball. The two brothers stiffened and the taller one growled low in his throat. Scott rolled his eyes and tilted his head.

  “I’m Scott Delange, part of Wayne Maccon’s pack. Your brother is still sleeping.”

  “Is he okay?” one of them asked, approaching Scott.

  “He would have been better if he’d let me give him some of my blood. Which one are you?” Scott looked over the taller one.

  “I’m Justice.” Justice put his hand out.

  Scott shook it, looking over the other brother. “I guess that makes you Jaxon.”

  Jaxon half-smiled. “You were right, Justice. These Washington werewolves are smart. Yes, I’m Jaxon.”

  Scott rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you supposed to be meeting with Riley Flynn?” he asked.

  “We ran into some trouble,” Justice said vaguely. He didn’t know much about the werewolf standing in front of him and he wasn’t about to tell secrets.

  Scott crossed his arms. “Look, guys. I know you don’t know me, but I am who I say I am. My mate is Tristan Miles.”

  Jaxon started at that.

  Scott grinned. “I see you’ve heard of him?”

  “Yes, we have,” Justice looked over Scott Delange. “You’re that black wolf we’ve seen, except you fight in human form.”

  “We all do; you should too, just as soon as you meet with Wayne and let him make you part of the line.”

  “So, it’s true? The Maccon line is immune to the rogues?” Jaxon asked, astonished.

  “Pretty much.” Scott looked at the time. “I need to go home and shower, get some coffee. Now that you guys are here, you can watch over Jesse. Can you let him know I’ll be back later?”

  “Sure thing,” Jaxon put his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you, Scott.”

  “You too, look after your brother,” Scott clapped him on the shoulder.

  Scott crossed the street and started walking the hill up to the apartment complex. He and Jude had kept the apartment, why move? It was right next to the hospital. The sound of tires squealing broke the morning quiet and a BMW slid into the spot right in front of his complex. Scott sighed as Tristan got out and slammed the door.

  “I’ve been calling you for hours!” Tristan snarled.

  “I was in the hospital - no cell phones, remember?”

  Tristan stalked over to his mate as the overwhelming smell of werewolf hit him - two different ones as a matter of fact.

  “What the hell?” Tristan pulled Scott closer to him and inhaled deeply. “Two different werewolves? Who the fuck are they?”

  “The Salvatore clan.” Scott shook loose and walked up the stairs to his apartment.

  “So you had to have more than one?” Tristan followed Scott up.

  Scott unlocked the apartment door. “What is with you? They’re Jesse’s brothers!”

  Tristan tried to keep his anger in check, but Scott had the Salvatore brothers’ scents all over him. “Are you with Jesse?”

  “No, I’m here in my apartment.” Scott threw his keys on the table.

  “Dammit, you know what I mean!”

  “What difference does it make? You hate me and I hate like you; face it, the fates fucked up.” Scott went to his room, removing his shirt along the way. He knew Tristan was following him, the footsteps echoed throughout the apartment. He threw his shirt on the chair and turned to face Tristan. Damn, but the man was gorgeous. Scott sighed inwardly. If Tristan hadn’t been such an ass, he could see himself with the guy. He was strong and confident.

  “I never said I hated you, you said that to me,” Tristan corrected.

  “Oh, and you don’t hate me? I challenge you; I don’t take your shit, either.”

  Tristan crossed the room and pushed Scott into the wall.

  “Maybe that turns me on; maybe I need a strong man.” Tristan ran his hand down Scott’s thigh. “You love that I’m strong, confident and an asshole. I keep you on your toes and I’m not boring.” Tristan ran his lips across the rapid pulse in Scott’s neck, inhaling the scent of his mate. “Right now I want taste every inch of you, throw you on the bed and fuck you until you can’t walk.”

  “Won’t happen,�
�� Scott breathed, closing his eyes and running his hands into Tristan’s hair. “We heal too fast.”

  Tristan took his shirt off, tossing it on the floor. He ran his hands up Scott’s well-defined stomach and chest. Leaning in, he rubbed his cheek against Scott’s.

  “What are you doing?” Scott asked.

  “I’m rubbing my scent all over you; I’m not going to have my mate smelling like other werewolves.”

  “Jesus, you’re marking me? What’s next? A shock collar?” Scott groaned as Tristan’s hand gripped his dick.

  He opened his eyes to see Tristan watching him. Scott got a very good look at a shirtless Tristan Miles and oh, fuck. Thick veins lined the man’s strong, corded muscles. One hand was on the wall behind him showing off the tattoo around his bicep. It was a cobra tattoo and it snaked all the way around his bicep to just above his wrist. Another one was on Tristan’s right pectoral muscle; an anchor with a skull and crossbones, a sword through the top of the skull. Scott’s cock thickened at the sight.

  Tristan looked down at his chest. “Oh, you like that?” Tristan squeezed Scott’s dick harder. His own cock was becoming increasingly uncomfortable in his jeans.

  “You seem to like my anatomy as well,” Scott smirked, looking at Tristan’s cock outlined in his tight jeans.

  Tristan flipped Scott around, pushing him into the wall. He kept a hand on Scott’s dick and ground his own into Scott’s ass. An overwhelming urge to take Scott, mark him, make him scream was pulsing in his veins. Tristan leaned in, licking Scott’s shoulder.

  “You want me, Delange?” Tristan unbuttoned Scott’s pants, sliding the zipper down. He slid his hand inside the heat of the smaller man’s boxers.

  “Tristan,” Scott arched his back, pressing into Tristan’s dick. He rested his forehead on the wall as his body moved with Tristan’s hand. Tristan’s thumb skated over his slit and a low moan tore from his throat. His jeans and boxers fell around his ankles and Scott’s lust haze cleared.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to fuck you,” Tristan breathed into Scott’s ear. Unbuttoning his own pants, Tristan kept a hand on Scott’s shoulder as he lowered his jeans. His cock was rock hard and leaking precum. He spread Scott’s legs out a bit, and slid his cock between them. Scott stiffened and Tristan leaned into his ear again.

  “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop, just say the word.” Tristan kept a tight grip on Scott’s prick and leaned forward, his cock sliding underneath Scott’s tightened sac. He slid his other hand up Scott’s chest to his neck. “Say it, make me stop, Scott.”

  “Goddammit,” Scott growled. Tristan’s cock was sliding across his perineum and under his balls, and a tingle spread up his spine as Tristan fisted his cock just how he liked it. Scott heaved a sigh, as Tristan sped up his movements. He couldn’t think long enough to say anything at that point. The delicious sparks in his balls kept him glued to the wall, his hips moving in time with Tristan’s hand.

  A heady feeling took over his gut and then pain sliced through his shoulders. Scott let out a hoarse cry as Tristan’s canines sunk into his shoulder. Bucking against Tristan only made it harder to move. Tristan had a death grip on his cock and was fisting him as he continued to pump his hips, his cock sliding between Scott’s thighs. The hand on his neck tightened and Tristan’s canines sunk in deeper. The buildup in his dick was almost unbearable; Scott let loose with a loud howl and spunk splattered the wall and Tristan’s hand.

  Breathing raggedly, Scott slumped against the wall as Tristan removed his canines from his shoulder. He’d never had someone do that to him before; he couldn’t believe he’d just gotten off like that. Scott realized Tristan had moved away from him; he pulled his boxers and jeans up and turned to see Tristan smirking.

  “You didn’t cum.” Scott looked at Tristan’s jeans.

  “Nope, but I made my point. You do want me,” Tristan said smugly, looking at his sexy mate in the afterglow. Scott’s black eyes blazed in anger.

  “Get out,” Scott growled.

  Tristan shrugged. “Fine. We both know this isn’t over by a long shot, Scott. You want to play top wolf, I just proved I’m him.”

  “Get out!” Scott grabbed Tristan’s arm, hauling him towards the front door.

  “What makes you madder, Scott? That I made you cum? Or that you were vulnerable to me?”

  Scott threw Tristan into the door, pinned his hands to the door and dove in for his lips. Taking Tristan’s bottom lip between his teeth he growled.

  “You want me too, Miles, don’t act like you don’t. I bet right now your cock is fucking crying in your jeans, wanting release.” Scott released one of Tristan’s hands and grabbed the engorged dick through his jeans; it pulsed under his hand. Tristan groaned low in his throat and Scott licked his bottom lip.

  “Who wants who now? What if I got down on my knees? How fast would you cum in my mouth?” Scott unzipped Tristan’s jeans, pushing them down to his knees. His mate went commando, how appropriate. Scott looked down to see Tristan’s cock, the head was red and angry, leaking pools of precum. His mouth watered at the sight and he slid down to his knees in front of Tristan.

  Tristan’s breath hitched as Scott’s hand slid up his thigh. Warm breath tickled his balls as Scott slid his nose alongside his hardened cock. Tristan looked down and almost gasped, the look on Scott’s face was one he’d never forget as long as he lived. Eyes full of desire, Tristan’s balls sat on the ridge of Scott’s nose. Black eyes looked up into his own and then a wet heat slid along his taint. Tristan grabbed Scott’s hair, pulling him closer to his now very angry dick. A low growl rose from Scott’s throat and Tristan relaxed his grip on his mate’s hair. Even now, they were still fighting for dominance. Scott slicked a finger with spit and licked a path up Tristan’s cock. Tristan’s legs shook and a loud moan escaped him as Scott’s mouth consumed his prick. A hint of pain seized his tunnel and his ass clenched as Scott’s finger slid inside him up to the knuckle. He hadn’t been fucked in a very long time; the pressure in his ass was unbelievable. Scott had a good suction going on his cockhead, bobbing up and down, his tongue swirling alongside the ridge and the finger in his ass moving in rhythm

  “Fuck…” Tristan groaned, he grabbed for anything to anchor himself and realized it was too late. Scott sucked him down and the finger hit his spot perfectly. “Fuccckkkkk!” Tristan shouted, his hips bucking into Scott’s mouth. *

  Hot semen roared down Scott’s throat, coating his tongue. He swallowed his mate’s release as it kept coming in sharp bursts. Scott held Tristan’s hips until the bucking slowed down and jagged breaths were coming from above him.

  Scott rested his head on Tristan’s thigh. He felt fingers massaging in his hair and closed his eyes. The scent from his mate was intoxicating; he’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Tristan. A hand ran down his bicep and he was being pulled to his feet. Scott kept his eyes closed; warm lips smoothed over his eyes and nose, then slid to his lips. A soft moan escaped him when Tristan’s tongue slid around the seam of his lips. His mouth opened instinctively, allowing Tristan in. Putting his arms around Tristan’s neck, Scott let Tristan lead for once, relaxing into the arms of his mate.

  It wasn’t a forceful kiss, it was exploratory and sensual and Scott’s body seemed to liquefy into Tristan’s. Warm hands slid up his back and into his hair, then one rested on his face. He had never liked kissing, most men didn’t do it right or it was too personal for a quick bang. Tristan’s kiss however was like molten heat sliding down his spine. Tristan’s mouth was piquant, a variable playground of flavors and Scott lapped it up and came back for more. Their lips fit like they were naturally made to come together and Scott’s legs bowed, his body sliding out of Tristan’s grip as the kiss went on and on. They finally came up for air and Tristan rested his forehead against Scott’s.

  “I want you, I’ll admit it,” Tristan managed to drag out.

  Scott opened his mouth to respond w
hen his emergency pager went off.

  “Hang on,” Scott looked for his pager and looked at it. “Shit, I need to go in.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I don’t know; I’m on call so someone must have called in sick.” Scott smiled as Tristan pulled his pants up. “Maybe we can finish this later?”

  Tristan looked at his phone and noticed the time. Then he realized he had a message. Hitting his voicemail he waited. Jacob’s voice came over the recording.

  “Hey, we need you back at the holding cell. We aren’t getting any further than when you were here. We are going to transport drunk -ass to Denali today. Call me.”

  Tristan looked up at Scott. “Rain check?” “Definitely.”

  Tristan zipped his jeans and walked

  across the room to Scott, he pulled him into an embrace. “So, a date maybe?” “I still owe you a dance lesson.” Scott nuzzled Tristan’s neck.

  Tristan groaned. “Do I have to?”

  Scott snickered. “The badass SEAL is afraid of dancing?”

  Tristan spanked Scott’s ass. “Very funny.”

  Scott backed away a little and looked up at Tristan. “So, let me know when. Maybe I could even cook?”

  “I look forward to it.” Tristan leaned down and brushed his lips across Scott’s. “Be careful out there.”

  “You too,” Scott breathed.

  ~~ Scott came off his shift tired and dirty. He took a quick shower and went to Jesse’s room. He knocked softly and heard the ‘come in’ from the other side of the door. Opening it, he peeked around the corner. Jaxon and Justice were standing beside the bed, one on either side, arms crossed and looking malicious. Scott grinned.

  “Hey guys.”

  Jesse sat up in bed. “Someone got lucky.” Justice chuckled softly.

  “What?” Scott entered the room and

  pulled up a chair.

  “Please, you have that ‘just fucked’ look,”

  Jesse laughed.

  “You smell of it, too.” Jaxon wrinkled his

  nose.

  “I showered!” Scott balked.

  “Ah ha! So, Miles marked you.” Jaxon

  raised his brows. “I wonder why he felt that was