Something Magic

by Justine Taylor

  Mack responds by rising up and turning Caleb towards him, pulling him into a tender, warm kiss. “Much better now,” he says when he pulls away, yanking up Caleb’s shirt.

  He rolls away, off the bed, pulling off his shirt as he rises. Mack whines and Caleb rolls his eyes and laughs as he walks to the closet to get lube from his suitcase. When he turns back around, he sees that Mack has undressed with record speed and is lying back across the pillows, arms crossed casually behind his head, his eyes glittering with love and affection as he watches him.

  “Goddamn,” Caleb whispers, chest aching with just how lovely he is, how utterly insane it is that a man so perfect is naked on his bed. That a man so perfect and with such a noble heart looks at him with such loving adoration. It’s the most powerful thing in the world, that look in Mack’s eyes.

  Caleb finishes stripping quickly, tossing the tube of lube him and tripping over his pants as he tries to step out of them and walk to the bed at the same time. He manages to make it in one piece, clumsily scaling Mack’s muscles in order to get his mouth around a nipple and his hands around his dick. Mack manhandles him so his ass in the air, within reach of his lubed fingers. He wastes no time stretching him, pressing in gently but insistently, knowing exactly how to make Caleb’s body go pliant and open.

  Caleb ignores his own cock to focus on Mack’s, teasing his foreskin with his fingers and lapping up the spurt of precome he works from him with a eager moan. He looks up to catch Mack’s eye, not breaking his gaze as he rubs his slick fingers across Mack’s nipple before leaning down to lick it off, teeth biting and pulling lightly on the barbell. Mack shoves his fingers in harder as he gasps, making Caleb smile and groan against his chest.

  “I need your knot,” he huffs, fingers pulling at the other barbell.

  “Come and get it,” Mack replies with a buck of his hips and a quick slap to his ass. Caleb can’t even pretend that he doesn’t find it ridiculously hot.

  He turns fully toward Mack’s flushed cock, straddling his hips and facing away from his breathtakingly beautiful face. He wants him to see, wants him to watch how his body opens and takes him. “Oh fuck, Caleb,” Mack groans, hands cupping and spreading him as he slowly lowers down.

  No matter how many times he takes him, Caleb will still gasp and shudder at the pure, hot pleasure that surges through him from the inside out as Mack’s cock fills him up. He’s breathing short little panting breaths that shake through him as he stretches, the burn settling into buzzing heat. Mack’s breathing hard too, hands moving up to cradle his waist, and Caleb leans forward just a bit, bracing his hands on his thick thighs. He twists back to watch Mack’s face as he starts to slowly rise up and down, shuddering at the sweet tight friction, the ridge of his cock tugging against his rim. Mack’s face – God, Mack’s face – is spectacular, mouth hanging open, his blunt, uneven human teeth jutting out slightly as he grunts. His eyes are wide and dark with lust-blown pupils, but when Caleb presses down hard, taking him in as far as he can, those magic eyes flash red, and a soft growl rumbles from his chest.

  It’s a siren call to him, Mack wolfing out during sex. He stops his teasing and begins riding him in earnest, rising and falling as fast as he can, body hot and liquid, simmering, his cock, still untouched, bouncing against his stomach. Mack isn’t thrusting up into him yet, perfectly content it seems to lie back and watch Caleb fuck himself on his cock, hands squeezing his ass.

  Caleb’s thighs are trembling, sweaty and taut, starting to ache. “Mack,” he moans, his voice sounding broken and far away. Mack reaches up and pulls him back, rescuing his legs, and bringing Caleb to lie back against his chest. It changes the angle of his dick in the best way, and fuck, he’s almost there.

  He twists back to kiss him, fucking his tongue filthily into his mouth as Mack finally starts to fuck up into him, hips snapping hard and fast. Mack hooks one arm across Caleb’s waist, holding him close, and reaches down to wrap his other hand around his dick, and that’s it, Caleb is done, coming with a mewling grunt, Mack stroking him through it, spilling hotly over his hand, ass clenching tight around Mack’s swelling cock.

  The hand on his waist grips him tight and Mack bites into his neck, hips stilling, bowed upward as he comes, his knot settling in tight against Caleb’s rim, his thick come spurting deep inside of him. Caleb’s mind goes blissfully blank for a long time, recognizing nothing but the warm comfort of being tied to his mate, their sweat-slick bodies trembling in tandem.

  Mack finally relaxes a bit and stills, humming in pleasure, his mouth still kissing and teasing Caleb’s neck, his ear, his shoulder, any part of him he can get to with his lips. They lie there like that for a while, Caleb stretched across Mack like a blanket, the wolf tattoo on his back pressed against the fox tattoo on Mack’s chest.

  Mack always insists on getting him off at least twice when he knots him, so Caleb smiles in knowing anticipation when his hands begin to move again in slow, teasing drags across his stomach. Caleb purrs and flexes, pulling the knot against his rim in a way that makes them both gasp and twitch. Mack lifts his hands so Caleb can see them and then slowly, carefully, lets his razor-sharp claws slide free.

  “Oh my God,” Caleb moans, mesmerized, as Mack's claws trace lightly up his sides, deadly points brushing feather-light across the thin skin of his ribs. One hand runs up to turn Caleb’s chin back towards him to capture his mouth in a bruising kiss. The other hand, still lethally clawed, reaches down to lightly grip his cock, careful but sure.

  Caleb wants to rut and buck as his body alights with Mack’s deliciously exquisite, teasing torture. But he doesn’t; he’s perfectly still except for the heavy rise and fall of his chest, letting Mack show him just how careful he can be. He’d be impressed with his own self-control if Mack’s didn’t put it to shame so thoroughly. He’s stroking him slowly, his hand just tight enough to give him a taste of friction, claws curled around his shaft. He moans his name, over and over again, losing himself in the blissfully pleasurable danger that he knows is truly no danger at all.

  There’s a bite and pull on his earlobe, making him hiss, then Mack’s thrusting up, achingly slow, each thrust deeper than the last, timed perfectly with the tugs on his cock. His knot is pressing hard inside him, making him dizzy with how solid and full he feels. Mack moves faster, teeth clamping into his neck, and Caleb starts meeting his thrusts, bucking his own hips in rhythm with his, knowing that his movement might change Mack’s clawed grip on his cock but not caring, needing this too much.

  Mack anticipates his movement, shifts his hand just so to accommodate Caleb’s needy little ruts. When he rocks his hips just right, it pushes Mack’s knot against his prostate, making him nearly scream with the bone-shaking pleasure. He bears down, clenching, needing it so fucking bad, needing the hot, swollen press of Mack’s knotted dick to milk him from the inside out. Mack clamps a muscled forearm low across his hips and holds him down while he arches up, his mouth wet and hot against Caleb’s ear. He’s panting, words a shapeless mumble as he encourages him, spurs him on. “That’s it, pup,” he’s saying, and fuck, Caleb’s eyes roll back in his head at that. “I love watching you come on my knot,” he continues. Pleasure threads through every inch of Caleb’s spent and wrecked body as he twitches and snaps against Mack’s solid warmth, emptying himself over Mack’s hand, again.

  Mack, always in a state of low-grade orgasm when he’s knotting, moans along with Caleb, coming more powerfully as Caleb comes down from his own high. Caleb brings one of his hands to his mouth to lick his come from his fingers, tongue darting lightly, cautiously, over the claws. Mack’s growl of pleasure echoes through the house as his as he fills Caleb with one more burst of hot come before falling still, still clutching him, his claws still whisper soft on his skin.

  The shower of Caleb’s childhood home is laughably small compared to Mack’s state-of-the-art rich person shower, and they trip over each other more than once as they clean up, laughing into each other’s skin as hold each oth
er up under the too-low water pressure. Caleb is thrilled to see Mack smiling again, the rest and sex having worked wonders, it seems.

  They manage to get clean and dressed and are watching TV in the living room when his dad and Ramona get home, both of them still in their work clothes and calling out eager hellos as they walk in the front door together. Caleb jumps up to hug his dad, and dammit if both of their eyes aren’t a little wet by the time they break the embrace.

  “It’s good to see you, kid,” his dad says, patting him on the shoulder.

  Ramona wraps him up next, ruffling his still-wet hair and kissing his cheek, and he pulls away just in time to see his dad reject Mack’s offer of a handshake and wrapping him in a huge bear hug instead, patting his back with affectionate. Mack tenses for just a second before relaxing and reaching up to return the hug. “It’s great to see you again, son,” his dad says, and Caleb has to look away because Mack’s eyes are starting to look suspiciously shiny too.

  He gives up any pretense of trying to keep it together when Ramona hugs Mack. Ramona, who makes his dad happy in a way Caleb never thought possible again, and who was already another mom to him before his own mother died. She pulls Mack into a hug just as fiercely as his dad did. “Welcome to the family, Mack,” she says, and Caleb isn’t sure if it’s his own happiness or Mack’s that he’s feeling.

  That night, after Mack and Ramona have both gone to bed, Caleb sits at the kitchen table with his dad, each drinking a beer. “You know,” his dad says, changing the subject away from baseball. “After you told me about you and Mack, I took another look at the investigation file for the fire.

  “Oh yeah?” Caleb tries to sound neutral, like he isn’t intimately acquainted with every detail of the file in question. He even knows the answer to the question that stumped his dad and the other investigators – why no one was able to escape the house even though the doors were unlocked and the windows open. Wolfsbane ash, a mystical barrier that only affects werewolves. Diana Perrin, bigoted werewolf hunter, had circled the house with it before setting the fire, trapping Mack’s family and sending them to their painful deaths.

  But Caleb can’t tell his dad any of that, of course, so he just nods. “I’m not sure how much Mack has told you about the incident,” his dad continues, looking suddenly wearied, and for the first time tonight, Caleb notices the new gray at his temples. “I’m not asking you to tell me anything he’s told you. I wouldn’t do that to you, and besides, it would be hearsay anyways.” He attempts a smile, and Caleb has to appreciate the effort he’s making. He knows how much an unsolved case – especially one so brutal – eats at him.

  “Thanks, dad.”

  “You’re welcome. But I do want you tell Mack something for me. Tell him that he can talk to me, as the sheriff, not as your father. I’ll reopen the investigation immediately if he wants to make another statement, okay?”

  “I will, dad. I'll tell him.” He will, but he knows what Mack’s response will be. Caleb has already suggested – more than once – that he revise his original statement to the police and name Diana as the murderer. “There’s no point,” Mack had said, each time he brought it up in recent months. “There’s no evidence and no motive that they can know about,” he explained. “There’s nothing they can do. Besides, Liam has been searching for her for years, and he’s never been able to find her. Do you really think the county sheriff’s department can?” He didn’t mean it as an insult to his dad’s work, but it was simply the unfortunate truth.

  When Caleb had asked Mack why he never went with Liam on his quests to hunt down and kill Diana, he was quiet for a long time before answering. What he said shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. “My mom always used to tell me that, as a wolf, I’m a predator by nature, but that doesn’t mean I have to kill. I don’t want to hurt people, and I don’t want to be a killer.”

  He had said so softly and sweetly Caleb had to kiss his eyes closed to comfort him, closing his own eyes against the rush of love he felt for him, for the goodness of his wolf-heart

  He takes a long drink from his beer, coming back to the present. Part of him wants to tell his dad everything, about Kate and what she did to Mack, about werewolves and mountain ash. But they’re not his secrets to tell, so he just smiles and nods, thanks his dad again before heading upstairs to bed.

  His dad and Ramona get married the day before Christmas Eve in a short, private ceremony in the Justice of the Peace’s office with Leo, Caleb and Mack serving as witnesses.

  The reception, though, is huge; a gorgeous party organized by Abbie’s mom, the area’s premiere event planner, at the country club Caleb has been to only once before, for senior prom. The place is massive, and somehow completely full – it seems everyone in town has come out to wish the sheriff well. It’s clearly the party of the year in Lighthouse Cove, even before the buzz of gossip that erupts when people recognize Mack – not only back in town, but hand-in-hand with the sheriff’s son to boot. Common courtesy and Mack’s eyebrows seem to keep the gawkers at bay though, and they have a great night toasting his dad and Ramona, dancing and drinking and laughing.

  Caleb is taking a break, sipping water at a table off to the side of the dance floor watching Mack and Stevi dancing across the room. If the sight of Mack in a suit wasn’t enough to destroy him, the sight of him rolling up the sleeves of his pressed shirt and loosening his tie is enough to make his mouth positively water. He’s about to get up to go tell him as much when a figure appears in the chair to his right.

  “Hello, Caleb,” Daisy’s dad says in a quiet voice.

  Mr. Perrin looks mostly the same since the last time Caleb saw him a couple of years ago, his ice-blue stare intimidating long before Caleb learned about his werewolf-hunting past.

  “Thomas,” Caleb answers curtly, sitting up straighter, eyes on Mack. He has no idea how Mack might react to seeing the brother of the woman who sexually and emotionally manipulated him in order to murder his family, but he really doesn’t want to find out now.

  “It’s nice to see you,” [] says, voice still quiet, and Caleb realizes that’s he’s speaking deliberaltely quiet enough that Mack can’t hear from across the room and over the music.

  Caleb doesn’t say anything, focusing instead on getting his heartbeat settled. Like [], Caleb knows that Mack can’t hear them if they keep their voices low. But his heartbeat is another story, so he tries to steady it, not wanting to alert him.

  “Caleb, relax,” Thomas is saying. “I’m here as a friend of your father’s.”

  “Not as a werewolf hunter?” He’s proud out of how steady and sure he sounds.

  “No. I haven’t hunted in a long time. And even when I did, I followed the code. I raised Daisy to follow the code as well.”

  This gets Caleb attention enough to pull his eyes away from Mack. “Daisy knows? How long?”

  “She’s always known. Since she was old enough to understand.”

  Caleb thinks this over, thinks back over high school when they were all obsessed with baseball games and getting in to a good college, Daisy was secretly learning to hunt werewolves.

  “Does she know about Diana? What Diana did to Mack’s family? Do you?” Caleb’s voice is harsh with accusation. Thomas Perrin may seem like a good guy, but that doesn’t change the fact that his sister abused Mack and murdered his family. It’s going to take a hell of a lot for Caleb to trust the guy.

  “Daisy knows that Diana is…unwell. That she’s dangerous.” Caleb scoffs and rolls his eyes. He really doesn’t want to be having this conversation. “I’m really just here to say congratulations to your father and Romana,” Thomas continues. “I also want to apologize for Diana, for what my father turned her into, and what she did to the Nolans. I’d tell Mack myself, but I don’t think this is the time.”

  Caleb is at least grateful for that, and despite himself, he starts to soften a bit towards his friend’s father. He always liked Daisy’s dad, even when he was intimidated by him, even when he made L
eo’s life a living hell for awhile when he and Daisy were dating. “Thank you,” Caleb answers. It sounds weird, but he doesn’t know what else to say. He just wants Thomas to leave so he can go to Mack and breathe normally again.

  “I want you know, Caleb, that I’m happy for you and for Mack, and that he faces no threat from me. Just the opposite, in fact.” He slips a hand into his suit and pulls out a black business card with a shining silver logo.“Here’s my number. Hold on to it. Call me if you or Mack ever need anything, okay?”

  He says it solemnly, almost disturbingly serious. Caleb doesn’t want to think of his tone as ominous, but he’d be lying of it didn’t feel that way a little bit. He takes the card from him and slides it into his pocket next to his phone. Thomas nods once, and then he’s gone.

  Caleb’s heart settles a bit after a generous shot of whiskey to calm his nerves. Then, he goes to Mack and insists on dancing with him and only him for the rest of the night. It feels strange, keeping something from him, but he looks so happy, downright joyful, so he decides to hold off on telling him about Thomas. It all falls out of his mind anyways when Mack clutches him tight in a lazy slow dance, beard tickling his ear as he sings softly into Calebs’ ear to Elvis’ “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” Caleb smiles into his neck and rubs his face on his beard, not giving a single fuck about all the eyes on them.

  His dad and Ramona are staying in a hotel tonight, so Mack and Caleb leave soon after that, saying quick goodbyes before speeding home to a thankfully empty house.

  They make it to Caleb’s bed before they come, barely.

  16

  “I’m going to the house.”

  Caleb looks up from his laptop on the couch to see Mack at the bottom of the stairs wearing jeans and a white tank top, his brow furrowed in determination. Caleb knew this was coming – knew Mack would decide eventually to go see the ruins of his family home.