Brandon burst out laughing. He expression changed in a split second to one of horror when he glanced over Raul’s body.
“Holy crap, what happened to you?”
Raul looked down and sighed. His thigh sported a spectacular bloom of purple.
“The reason I was late.”
“Your previous appointment did that?”
“This is my family business.” Raul waved his bottle in a circle, indicating the room they were in. “I have my own gig as a bounty hunter. Sometimes I track down straying spouses or runaway kids. My previous appointment was a centaur who took exception to me trying to bring him in after he jumped bail.”
“You know, you shouldn’t come at them from behind, they kick.”
Raul snorted but resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Did you get him?” Brandon asked.
“I did.” Raul nodded. “Hurts like a bitch. Fortunately, I’d partially shifted to catch the mother-fucker, or he’d have broken my leg.” He tried not to wince but failed when he eased into a more comfortable position.
“Good job.”
Brandon inched closer and held out his water bottle in a toast. Raul tapped the neck of his bottle to Brandon’s. With his other hand, Brandon reached out, letting his fingertips hover over Raul’s thigh.
“May I?”
Not sure what Brandon was asking to do, but curious enough to want to find out, Raul nodded once. Scooting even closer, Brandon held one hand over Raul’s thigh, fingertips pointed down.
A blue haze formed along Brandon’s fingers and inched toward Raul’s skin like a tiny curtain dropping.
“There are medical machines that use electricity to help healing.” Brandon explained. He shrugged and brushed his fingers along Raul’s leg with a feather light touch. “I can mimic those.”
Raul’s leg tingled in a very pleasing way. As Brandon moved his hand the pain Raul was feeling lessened and bled away.
“Wow,” Raul said.
Brandon smiled. “Better?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you.”
“You made me feel amazing and I know I’m going to hurt in a good way on my ride home. It’s the least I could do,” Brandon said.
“You also paid a hefty fee.”
“That’s money. This,” he held his hand up, “is gratitude.”
“The Harley in the lot yours?” Raul asked. “I can give you a ride to your hotel.”
Brandon shrugged. “That’s okay. I would just have to figure out how to get it tomorrow.”
“It’s no trouble. I have business in Green Valley in the morning, so I’m going to be driving around anyway.” He stood and crossed the room, retrieving their clothes and gathering the supplies he’d left strewn around. Motioning to one of the two doors in the room, Raul said, “Shower is through there. It’s fully stocked. Take your time. I’ve got no other plans than to go home, so if you change your mind let them know at the desk and I’ll give you that ride.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I want to see some of the countryside anyway. November here is much nicer than in New England.” Brandon stood up and held out his hand. “Seriously, thank you for the best two hours I’ve ever had.”
Raul shook Brandon’s hand and pushed thoughts of inviting him for a drink or dinner out of his head. He settled on, “If you need any recommendations for sights to see, you know where to find me.”
It was probably better that he left before he made a fool out of himself and acted like a love-sick first timer. Shower, a hot meal and a few cold drinks and he’d put Brandon out of his mind.
◆◆◆
Brandon had ridden about halfway back to his hotel when he began seriously regretting not taking Raul up on that ride. If it wasn’t that he’d have to go back to the El Corazon the next day for his bike he probably would’ve. He hated leaving his bike anywhere. The fact was his ass hurt and he was regretting not having a way to see Raul tomorrow.
He couldn’t shake the feeling there was more of a connection between him and Raul than what was normally expected between a professional in an adult club and a client. Finally, after what seemed like hours he was pulling into the parking lot of his hotel. An order from room service, a movie on TV and a soak in the hot tub that came with his room was the rest of Brandon’s plans for the night.
Tomorrow he’d sight see.
No matter how hard he’d tried to think of other things, to concentrate on the movie and do some reading, Raul encroached on his thoughts. Brandon jacked off to thoughts of Raul’s hands, cock, and knots before he went to sleep and woke up to the same thoughts.
Maybe he could get another appointment before he left.
Brandon booted up his laptop and logged onto the El Corazon website, checking the schedule. Disappointment coursed through him when he didn’t see any open slots for Raul for another month. Brandon might be the boss’s son, but he still had to show up for work. It was possible he’d be able to push his ten days to twelve, but that was it.
Heaving a sigh, Brandon was about to give up and check out other things to do in the area when he remembered Raul’s other line of work. He searched, but other than an online business listing Brandon found nothing else about Raul’s private detective/bounty hunter work.
“He had business in Green Valley this morning,” Brandon said to the laptop. “Maybe…?”
Brandon put one finger against the flash drive port and closed his eyes, concentrating.
Shouldn’t use my power for evil.
Except he wasn’t. He was using it for self-gain. How was that any different than the way his ability had been used for profit by his parents his entire life?
It wasn’t.
A few minutes of time circumventing fire walls and impressive security for a small-town police department, Brandon knew that Raul needed to collect his fee for the centaur he’d delivered yesterday. According to Raul’s e-mail he’d be stopping at the bail bond office in about an hour.
Brandon showered, shaved, and tried on two different outfits before he left the hotel and rode his motorcycle the few miles to the police station. He parked and sat—carefully—because his rear was beyond tender—on a bench outside and waited.
He was about to give up, thinking he’d missed Raul when a group of people left the building, Raul among them. Jogging down the steps, he took Brandon’s breath away and almost made Brandon forget what he was there for. The leather vest and pants had been replaced by faded jeans and a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to just under his elbows. His short hair fluttered ever so slightly in the breeze. The cut of his clothes and the colors accentuated Raul’s physique and skin tone.
Brandon swallowed, stood up and waved.
Hey!” He debated using the name Raul or the more formal, Mr. Fierro. “Raul,” burst out of Brandon’s mouth before his brain made an actual decision.
Raul stopped and turned toward him. Brandon’s heart sank when it appeared Raul didn’t recognize him. A split second later his expression softened and he offered Brandon a small chin jut before making his way to where Brandon waited.
“Everything okay? Your bike wasn’t stolen or anything, was it?” Raul asked.
“No. I was just checking out the town and saw you.” Brandon sort of told the truth and immediately cursed himself mentally when Raul arched an eyebrow. The man was a werewolf. That meant he heard heartrates change and could sniff out changes in body chemicals when someone lied. “I mean… c-could we… are you hungry?”
Raul put his hands in his jeans pockets and stood regarding Brandon calmly. He seemed to be studying Brandon, looking for something in his face or body language maybe. It was unnerving.
“Mr. Lynch—”
“Brandon,” he corrected immediately.
Raul nodded and said, “Brandon, look I think I know what’s going on here. What you’re feeling isn’t real.”
“I—you don’t know that.”
“Yes. I do,” Raul said. His voice was firm, kin
d and Brandon realized he’d had this conversation before.
Raul turned as if he was going to leave, so Brandon darted forward and put one hand on Raul’s forearm.
“No. Please, listen?” Raul stopped so Brandon continued. “I’m just asking… you’re the first person in I can’t remember when who treated me like a normal guy, not a scary freak. I thought maybe you’d have time for some lunch? That’s all. I don’t know anyone else in this area, and eating every meal alone gets old.” Brandon put on his most pleading, innocent expression.
Again, Raul scrutinized him and Brandon hoped he sensed his sincerity.
“Alright. You like Mexican? Real Mexican?”
“I do!”
Jerking his thumb over his shoulder Raul said, “I’m parked over there, green pickup. Follow me?”
“Yes, great.” Brandon sprinted to his bike as well as he could with his thighs tight, his ass a dull throb and his back still stinging.
He trailed after Raul’s pickup truck a few miles to a small restaurant. The smells wafting out the front door made Brandon’s mouth water and his stomach rumble. They asked for a table on the patio and the hostess seated them at one near the edge.
“What do you suggest?” Brandon asked as he looked over the menu.
“Trust me?”
Brandon snorted. “I think I answered that question last night.”
After Raul ordered them a meal and they had tall, cool glasses of Sangria, Raul leaned back in his chair, stretched his long legs in front of him and rested his hands on the table.
“You need to understand, knotting has a purpose. That purpose is for werewolves, the bonding and mating of a male and female to raise a family. It produces a pheromone and chemical reaction to help make the couple a mated pair. If no pregnancy results, it goes away. Sometimes, it has the same effect on non-werewolf sex partners. Whatever you’re feeling for me, it’s a result of what we did last night.”
Brandon sipped his drink and nodded.
“I think you misunderstand me. I know all that, I did my research about possible side effects.” He shrugged. “I like you. You were kind to me and treated me like a person. I was only hoping to make a friend for the few days I’ll be here. This…” he spread his hands wide over the table, “… is all I was looking for.”
“Okay. In that case I’m sorry.”
“Well, and maybe if you have a cancellation this week?” Brandon ventured.
Raul laughed. The sound sent little ripples of excitement fluttering along Brandon’s abs. “We’ll see how it goes.”
Not the answer Brandon was hoping for, but it wasn’t a rejection either.
Chapter 3
Raul ended up spending a few afternoons with Brandon, which led to them spending a few nights together as well. He had some of his curiosity satisfied. Yes, the wand had an enhanced effect for Brandon. A big yes to Brandon’s cock thrumming with electrical energy inside Raul’s mouth and getting blown by Brandon was amazing. Not only did the guy love submitting and being on his knees for Raul, he was damn good with his mouth and tongue. Being fucked by Brandon was intense since Raul’s prostate was constantly bombarded by tiny sparks, it was almost too much. Brandon preferred bottoming, which was generally fine with Raul, since he was a top man himself when offered the choice. Being inside Brandon was just as, if not more, thrilling.
Brandon was young, fifteen or so years Raul’s junior, not what Raul usually went for, but Brandon was smart and funny. Raul liked him and repeatedly got the impression he was absolutely starved for honest affection. In the week Brandon stayed in Arizona they didn’t get too much into personal details, so Raul never did find out if Brandon had a special someone back home. Raul suspected if he did, the relationship wasn’t stellar.
For weeks Raul traded e-mails with Brandon to the point it was almost every day. He looked forward to the communications, but wasn’t surprised when they suddenly stopped. It did bite, that much he’d admit, but only to himself. The truth was that what was between them had been a vacation fling. Not the first one Raul’d had and likely wouldn’t be the last. He suspected there was a boyfriend, girlfriend or spouse who’d said enough. He’d gotten to know Brandon well enough to know he was a pleaser and would put others’ needs and wants over his own.
It saddened Raul. He would’ve dearly liked to continue the friendship, even if it went no further.
Raul thought about Brandon—a lot and had almost gotten to the point where he could accept the fact what they’d had was all they’d ever have. Usually his little flings didn’t affect him this way. Raul took on extra cases and clients to occupy himself. Then one day in the middle of January everything was changed by a simple meeting.
He had a small office at the club, that way there was no reason to have a separate space to maintain. Besides security at his family business was much better than any office building. Sometimes he met club clients there as well for a pre-session consultation. That’s what he thought was happening today, a meeting with a potential adult encounter client, one who might’ve been sent by a sexual relations therapist. All he knew was a first name, William. He supposed he’d find out in a few minutes when the man he was there to meet arrived, hopefully with a therapist letter of referral. If he was really lucky, that therapist would be one associated with the club, like his sister or aunt.
The man he greeted was at least ten plus years older than Raul, putting him easily in his fifties, maybe early sixties. He was a good-looking guy, gray hair, nice build, and a familiarity about him Raul couldn’t put his finger on. Raul took in the well-tailored suit, manicured nails and expensive, tasteful few pieces of jewelry he wore. The man had money, probably a lot of it and he’d had it for some time, possibly born into it. A large, leather, laptop bag hung off his shoulder.
Raul extended one hand, “Raul Fierro. Have seat, please.” He motioned to one of the two chairs in front of his desk.
A firm, sure handshake and the man finally revealed his full name.
“William Lynch.” He said it almost as a challenge. His body language was tense, so maybe it was a challenge.
Or he was here on a bet.
Brandon’s last name was Lynch. Okay, common enough a name, it didn’t have to mean anything. This man was plenty old enough to be Brandon’s father. Had he come here to experience the same thing his son had? That would be weird and creepy and… no.
“Raul translates to wise wolf, Fierro means iron,” William Lynch said.
“Yeah,” Raul said slowly, drawing the word out. “What is it I can do for you, Mr. Lynch?” It was an enormous effort to lean back against his desk and appear casual. William Lynch stood between the chairs, not taking the offered seat.
“You know my son Brandon.”
Really weird and creepy.
“That’s confidential.” Regardless of how William Lynch thought Raul knew Brandon he was going to protect Brandon’s privacy.
A smile spread across Lynch’s face and damn if it didn’t make Raul want to shift to full werewolf and dive out a window.
“Right answer,” Lynch said.
Raul frowned but had no real reply. He felt this was some sort of test, but he didn’t have a clue as to over what, or why.
“I’ll get right to the point,” Lynch continued.
“Good.”
“Brandon is missing and I need you to find him. I know you work here, in this place.” He glanced around the small office and his distaste over Raul’s family business was palatable. “But you’re also a bounty hunter.”
“Uh huh. What do you mean missing?” Raul asked. Didn’t that piece of information make him feel like the worst possible pond scum? Regular e-mails from Brandon had stopped and Raul didn’t even think to try to make sure nothing bad had happened. “When?”
“Ten days ago, though to be honest I didn’t realize it until a couple of days later. Brandon is very introverted and a loner, so not hearing from him when he’s not at work isn’t uncommon.” Lynch’s voice was st
eady, no hint of fear for Brandon, or any other emotion. There was nothing about his body language or scent to lead Raul to think he was masking his emotions.
Asshole. Your kid went missing and you didn’t even know about it right away.
The Brandon Raul knew didn’t seem very introverted, not to that extent. If someone in Raul’s family was missing, even for a few hours, many people would know something wasn’t right. Raul didn’t have to think much about his next two questions.
“How do you know he hasn’t taken a trip? How did you know to come to me?”
“There have been no charges on his credit cards. I couldn’t open the e-mails, but I’ve seen proof of communications between the two of you and I know he was in this area last November for a week. His motorcycle hasn’t left the parking garage in two weeks. Weather up north doesn’t allow for much riding at this time of year, but he’d trailer it somewhere he can use it if he were on a simple trip. Brandon doesn’t take impromptu trips, he’s an extensive planner.” Lynch counted off on his fingers as he listed his reasons. “I did some research on you. Your fugitive recovery rate is excellent. You know my son—intimately, I presume—and you demonstrated you know how to be discreet.”
Brandon had dropped out of sight ten days ago. His last e-mail to Raul had been eleven days ago.
Lower than pond scum.
“Whatever your fee, I’ll double it,” Lynch added. He probably took Raul’s lack of immediate response as a no.
Raul would do it for free, but he decided Brandon’s father needed to pay for being such a douche.
“It would be helpful if you could provide me with information on his friends, who he associates with for business and what exactly does he do? I know he works for your company, that’s it.”
“You understand what Brandon is, correct?”
A sweet, kind young man with a dick of a father? Raul nodded. “I know he’s a magical. A scintilla.”
Lynch nodded. “One of my business ventures is Seafind. It’s my main business and has been for years.”
“Crowd sourcing, cyber security, search engine, financial projections, that Seafind?” Raul asked. That explained how a twenty-something kid could afford what Brandon paid for his visit to El Corazon.
Scintilla Page 3