by Hunter, Troy
“Yeah, I did. I’ve been in Bear Moose my entire life,” he says, folding his menu.
“And with wildlife photography you could potentially stay here, right?” I probe.
He shrugs. “Most likely. I love it here. Where are you from?”
“Silicon Valley,” I say.
The waiter interrupts before he can reply. Cliff orders a Jack Daniels and a garden salad. Curious. I order a pasta dish and a soda, as drinking while I’m using the ARF device is probably not a good idea. Although it would be best to set up a test of the device in that situation as well, so I can understand its full capability. But on my first date with Cliff, hell no.
“You’re a vegetarian?” I ask once the waiter has drifted away.
He nods. “Yeah, I have a hard time seeing people eat meat,” he confesses, watching me carefully.
I frown thoughtfully. “I guess it’s a good thing I ordered pasta fresca.”
I’m not much of a meat eater. It’s delicious but I know I could live comfortably without it. Cliff’s face visibly relaxes after I speak, and I wonder if he has a difficult time finding friends, even lovers, being a vegetarian here.
He pulls me from my thoughts when the waiter returns and brings our drinks. “So, you were telling me about the Silicon Valley,” he says, taking a sip of his whiskey.
“Right.” I slap my palm lightly on the table. “I work for a big research lab as one of their computer programmers. It’s interesting work, isolated but that works for me. I can get to the beach in twenty minutes. Can’t find parking though.” I laugh.
“What kind of programming can you do?” he asks. And then he leans forward conspiratorially, dropping his voice low. “Are you a hacker? White hat or black?”
“He is teasing you,” the ARF device chimes in.
I snort. “No, I’m not a hacker. I mean, I can hack, but I don’t.”
“Sure, sure.” He winks at me.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” the waiter says, sweeping toward us, holding a tray with our food. “I have a garden salad, pasta fresca, and a plate of hot wings on the house.”
“Target’s heart rate has accelerated,” the ARF device says in my ear.
Cliff chews his lips. I glance between him and the wings. “You know what, if it’s okay, can you send the wings to that table there?” I point to a couple at a table across the room bickering over the menu.
The waiter frowns, then shrugs, sweeping the wings off the table. Cliff looks at me with raised brows.
“Thank you,” he says, voice laced with sincerity.
“I think they needed them more than us,” I say, eyeing the couple who are now devouring the hot wings.
Cliff laughs just as the lights dim. Kate takes the stage, breaking into a monologue about her well-planned dinner party, which we are all guests at. We fall silent watching her act on stage and I feel like I’ve been transported back to high school and I’m watching her perform in Grease.
In the darkness, I feel closer to Cliff than I ever have up to this point. I can feel the air between us—it’s a tangible pressure. The urge to interrupt that pressure and move closer to him is strong. My heart is racing as I wrestle with my instincts.
The ARF device says, “Touch his hand. Calculations predict a 98% probability of success.”
I swallow with some difficulty and drop my hand to the seat, where I know Cliff’s is already resting. The actor’s words are drowned out by the rushing in my ears as I inch my hand toward Cliff. And then suddenly, my fingertips graze his. I hear his breath catch at the same time mine does. I resist looking at him, staring resolutely at the stage I’m not even seeing.
His fingers loop through mine and he lightly squeezes my hand. I feel light-headed. Sitting here in the darkness, my hand in Cliff Taylor’s feels unreal. It feels like I was just dropped into one of my teenage fantasies with no warning.
“It is recommended that the subject move closer to the target,” the ARF device says, making me jump.
But before I can follow its commands, Cliff is already sliding along the booth toward me. His leg is pressed against mine, his hip on mine, his shoulders pressed to mine. I try to take a deep breath to calm down. I’m nervous, excited, and taut with anticipation and sexual tension.
His hand slips from mine, then I feel a pressure around my shoulders as he drapes his arm over me. I feel his nose brush against my cheekbone and the graze is enough to send my cock stiff and pulsing. I’m grateful for the darkness and that he can’t see my erection, but I can’t help wonder what he would do if he knew how erect I am.
“Analysis shows 97% probability of successfully initiating a kiss,” says a mechanical voice.
Bless the ARF device, I think. If not for its precise calculations, I might be too afraid to do what I’ve been dying to do since that night on the field so many years ago. Kiss Cliff Taylor again. So I turn my head slightly, feeling the soft light of the stage fall across my face. His lips are there, so close I accidentally graze them when I turn to him.
But that softest, slightest of touches is enough. His chest rumbles with what sounds like a growl and he presses his lips to mine. He sears a kiss to my mouth, his tongue sweeping over my closed lips until I open them for him. His tongue delves into my mouth, dancing with mine. I can’t get enough of him. He smells like fresh turned earth and pine—I could breathe him in all night.
His scruff scratches against me as his lips drift down to the crook of my neck. His tongue flicks out over the sensitive skin there and I gasp. Luckily, the play has a soundtrack to it and the actors are projecting enough to mask my quiet gasps and moans as Cliff licks and nibbles my neck.
I feel his teeth graze the skin there, just over my jugular. I imagine he could bite me and tear me apart and it would still feel like heaven. His hand plays over my jeans, rubbing the bulge there. I rock my hips to his rhythm, pleasure exploding through my body under his touch.
It’s better than that night on the field. I didn’t realize how much my body was aching for him until this moment. But now that he’s kissing me and pleasuring my stiff cock, I realize that all these years, I never forgot him because this just feels so right. It felt right that night and it feels right tonight. Fuck, I want to go home with him.
I shift so I can find his dick, my hands desperately searching for it as my eyes are clenched closed. He grins against my lips as my fingers slip his zipper down. It’s that grin I feel that sends me wild. This man, my comparison for every kiss I’ve ever had, is grinning while I pump him. Grinning as if he always knew this would happen. And that’s hot.
I force my hand under the waistband of his underwear until his heavy cock is in my palm. He’s as silent as the dead as I stroke all the way up and down his shaft. I wouldn’t even know I was pleasuring him, except I can feel him grinding against my hand and his teeth biting down on my lips with each tug.
* * *
Cliff
Holy shit.
I’m getting a hand job in the middle of a crowded restaurant. It’s the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me. And the last thing I expected from Dale. I never imagined Dale had such a wild streak in him. But the moment my lips touched his, I felt something change in him. His scent changed completely, overwhelmingly musky and pouring out pheromones. It was enough to drive me over the edge.
I had already jerked off to thoughts of him today, but this was different. This was better than the fantasy. His hand is on my dick, and I have a feeling that if we were in my truck, it would be his lips. I shudder under his touch as his fingers play against my balls. I want to roar, to cry out as the pleasure floods through me like an avalanche. But I don’t. I bite his lips when I feel the urge to bellow.
Dale sweeps his tongue through my mouth, twisting around mine. It feels familiar, like a kiss I’ve had before. It’s so familiar it feels meant to be. I’ve heard rumors of shifter mates, but I’ve never given the rumors any credibility. But if this rightness was how it felt, then I’d swear up and down I’
d just found mine.
I cup his face in my hands, deepening the kiss. I need all of him, now. I want his body close to mine. But in this restaurant, out to dinner, I can’t claim him the way I need to. So I drag his face against mine instead, running my tongue over his lips, along his jaw to his ear. His breath hitches as I take his ear lobe between my teeth and flick my tongue into his ear. He’s good at being quiet, but I want him to roar for me.
I pull back, pressing my forehead against his as we both breathe raggedly. His eyes glitter in the darkness, focused intensely on me. “Do you want to get out of here?” I growl.
He nods. “Yeah.”
I zip and button my jeans and then rise, leaving a stack of bills on the table, more than enough for our dinner and drinks. Dale is right behind me, I can hear him trying to catch his breath as we walk as casually as possible from the restaurant.
The door has barely closed behind us before I’ve tugged him to me again. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him deeply, encouraging his mouth open with my tongue. His lips part willingly for me and I delve into his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip. He groans in my arms, loud now that we’ve left the show behind. We stumble to my truck, our lips locked the entire time.
I press him against the door of the cab as I fumble for the handle and my keys. His hand is on my dick again, the other under my shirt. I manage to open the door and I spin us around it. He lets me go long enough to slip into the cab of my truck and I get a good view of his ass again. I imagine taking him, plunging deep into him and pumping him full of my cum.
His eyes dart toward me as I climb in, as if he knows I was just thinking about fucking him. He licks his lips. Slowly, keeping my gaze on his eyes, I unzip my jeans and tug my cock from my underwear. It’s already glistening with precum.
He eyes my dick hungrily and before I can even make the invitation, he’s bent over me, his lips stretching around my cock. “Fuck!” I gasp as his tongue runs along the shaft.
He takes me so deep I can feel his throat stretching around my length. Then I lose myself in the sensation, my eyes fluttering closed. The windows fog up with our desperate breaths. I tangle my hands in his hair, holding on for dear life as my legs start shaking.
“Dale,” I breathe. “Dale.”
It’s the only word I can form right now, the only word I want to say. His name seems to spur him on and his tongue swirls over my head. I tug on his hair, lifting him from my dick and sitting him upright. He looks at me with confusion but then I’m on him. I’ve got his pants unzipped in less than a second and his cock in my mouth an instant later. He cries out at the first stroke of my tongue over his head.
That’s the sound I want, I think to myself. My fingers massage his balls as my tongue sweeps over his cock. I taste the hot salty mess of his precum. He rocks against my mouth, gasping and moaning like a man possessed.
I take him deep, his cock filling my throat, and pump up and down. It doesn’t take long before my mouth is filled with his cum. I swallow it all, not ceasing my pumping until he’s shuddering and panting as his orgasm fades.
When I know he’s done, I rise, grinning wryly.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, his eyes wide.
I bite his jugular gently, just hard enough to send a pleasurable pain through him. He shivers and another moan escapes his lips. “You,” I whisper against his skin. “Are very sexy.”
He laughs breathlessly. “Can we get out of here before the show gets out? Maybe go to your place?” He looks at me hopefully.
I chew my lips. I want to say yes, I want to say yes more than anything. But my cabin is almost an hour away and I don’t know if I’m ready to let Dale completely into my world yet. I start the truck and pull out of the parking lot. “Maybe another night,” I say, glancing at him. “It’s kind of a mess right now.”
His face falls a little, but he nods. “I had a great time tonight.”
“Me too.” I grin wryly at him. “And hey, I will have you over to my place. The least I can do is rescue you from rooming with your parents’ lover.”
He laughs, leaning his head back. “Would you, please? I’m desperate.”
Our laughter gives way to comfortable silence as I pull onto the street leading to his house. “Hey Dale, I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Shoot,” he says, turning toward me.
“Do you think you could hack into the website of the Department of Fish and Game?” The question has been gnawing at me since he mentioned that he could hack if he wanted to.
He looks at me curiously and inhales deeply. “I can try. I can’t make any promises though. What am I looking for?”
“The lottery for the wolf hunting licenses. Can you fix it so I win if I enter?”
“I’ll take a look.” He offers me a trusting smile. “And I won’t say anything.”
I let out a long breath and feel some of the knots in my stomach ease. “Thank you.”
We pull into his parents’ drive, the headlights of my truck sweeping over the porch. I hop out of the truck smoothly and stride around the car to open his door. But when I get there it’s already open and Dale is waiting propped against it.
I grin at the sly look on his face, the sensual twist of his lips. We fall into another embrace, my hand clasping the back of his head as I sear a kiss to his lips.
He moans under my touch, a parting gift that will ring in my head all night.
Dale
I hear Cliff’s footsteps receding through the front door, then the slam of his truck door. The rumble of the engine is followed by the crunching of gravel as he peels out of my drive. I sag against the front door, still trying to catch my breath from what just happened in his truck.
I tug the ARF device out of my ear and shove it in my pocket. I don’t want it chirping at me—I just want to think about what happened. There was so much tension between the two of us, like a string pulled taut between our bodies. I can’t believe we made out in the middle of a crowded restaurant. I’ve never done anything that impulsive before. Even without the ARF device, I suspect it would have happened anyway. Cliff has an animal magnetism that I’m drawn to.
I know I fell into that magnetic pull in high school and never truly escaped from it. The first time I ever saw him, I was fifteen. He smiled at me and we locked eyes for what felt like an eternity before he disappeared into a crowd of students. I was ecstatic when I saw him in my biology class later that day. But we never spoke, mostly because I was too shy to approach him. But God, that smile. It hasn’t changed. I lightly pound my head against the door as I withdraw from my memories. It was the perfect date. Sighing, I traipse up the stairs, eager to lie in bed and live through the date in my memories.
I stop short at the landing as moans and heavy breathing reach my ears. The sounds are coming from my parents’ room. I shudder and try to ignore them. Once I’m in my room with the door closed, the sounds are muffled enough that I can’t hear them anymore. I breathe a sigh of relief.
There are a few cum stains on my jeans, so I toss them in the laundry basket to wash tomorrow. I climb into bed in just my underwear, thinking of the device; I need to make some minor adjustments. Its calculations are almost too slow—the delay could be enough to make a target suspicious. That’ll take some time to fix. The data processor I have in the device is one of the best and I’m not in a position to order a new one and install it here. That will have to wait until I’m back at the Center.
Until then, I’ll just have to do what I can to tweak the processor and speed up the calculations. It’s a great success with Cliff though. He’s responding positively to the ARF device’s suggestions. So positively I’m confused that he didn’t take me up on my offer to go home with him. It was a suggestion from the device. It had a 98% probability of success. But he’d rejected my offer. I fell into that improbable 2%. It blew my mind and made me a little insecure.
I’d wanted to go home with him. I didn’t just offer because I needed to finish my test of the ARF device.
I offered because after that bout in the truck…it was like I was seventeen again. Cliff had been on my mind for all four years of high school. And even when he rejected me after that night on the field, I hadn’t been able to give up on my feelings for him until I left Bear Moose.
After our passionate moment in the truck, I feel like I’m having flashbacks to high school. It’s almost identical to the night I went to sleep bursting with excitement at the thought that Cliff Taylor liked me back. I worry that I’ll wake up tomorrow to the cold Cliff, just as I did in the past. I inhale deeply, trying to calm down. It’s different now, I remind myself. I have the ARF device, and no matter what happens, the machine can coach me through any conversation or situation with Cliff.
And the truth is…I can’t wait to see him tomorrow. He’ll probably have questions about the lottery. I can’t sleep anyway, so I drag myself out of bed and over to my old desk. It’s covered in memorabilia that I shove aside so I can I open my laptop. I open the website for the Department of Fish and Game. Like most government websites, it’s difficult to navigate and unappealing. But I find the lottery webpage after digging around a little bit.
In about a week, the lottery winners will be announced, three of them in total. I have software on my laptop that makes it easy to find and rewrite code. I open it now and use a few keystrokes to connect the website to my software.
I spend a few minutes browsing through the code, trying to penetrate the lottery. “Damn,” I curse softly.
The lottery is airtight—I can’t access it remotely. I need to be patched into the servers. I’m not entirely surprised. I’m a gifted coder and programmer, but government websites are built by the best. Even something as innocent as the Department of Fish and Game can’t be accessed by just anyone.
I hate to disappoint Cliff though. For whatever reason, this lottery means a lot to him. I can’t imagine he’s a big hunter. Vegetarians often choose to forgo meat for moral reasons, and Cliff seems like that type. My gut is telling me he wants to prevent wolves in the area from being hunted. The website explains that the lottery is in place to thin the wolf population, since it’s too heavy for a sustainable environment. Cliff is smart—as a wildlife photographer he must know that.