The Rock Star and the Wolf

by J. C. Holly

  “Did I mention last time that you have a great ass?” he asked, though Mitch was in no position to reply. “Because you do.”

  He took the back of Mitch’s shirt in his hands and tore it in two, then pulled it around the front. Mitch shifted his hands to allow the removal of the ruined clothing, but kept working. Harlan tossed the shirt to the floor.

  “Take off your pants,” he said, his voice thick with desire.

  Mitch reached back and slid his pants down, then kicked them off, one leg at a time. The whole time he kept sucking Harlan’s cock, not even altering his speed. Harlan smirked.

  “You have talent,” he said, as he reached down to run his fingers over Mitch’s stiff cock. “Okay, stand up.”

  Mitch pulled away from Harlan’s cock, smiling as he stood. “What does teacher want now?”

  Harlan grinned as he stroked his cock. “Got any lube?”

  Mitch crossed to the bed’s dresser and pulled out a bottle and a condom, then smirked and dropped the condom back into the drawer and slid it shut. Harlan threw him a questioning glance.

  “You said yourself we’re immune to everything,” Mitch said as he tossed the lube over. “Might as well make the most of it.”

  Harlan couldn’t help but growl in excitement. Sex with a condom was all well and good, but compared to taking a man bareback it paled in comparison.

  “Where do you want me?” Mitch said, stroking his own cock as he waited for instruction.

  “On my cock.” Harlan worked his shaft with a little lube. “Now.”

  Mitch quickly crossed the distance between them and climbed onto the seat, his knees either side of Harlan’s thighs, facing him with a smile. He lowered himself down slowly and Harlan guided his cock into position, then watched the man’s face as he pushed down.

  “Fuck,” Mitch groaned, as Harlan’s cockhead slipped inside him.

  “You like that?” Harlan murmured in the man’s ear. “Hmm?”

  “Yes,” Mitch hissed. “Yes, teacher.”

  “Lower.” Harlan slapped his hands onto Mitch’s waist and began to push down. “Take it all like a good little slut.”

  Mitch moaned at Harlan’s words. “God, yes. I’m your fucking slut.”

  “You’re mine entirely,” Harlan said as he pushed his hips up. “Whatever I tell you to do, you do it.”

  “Yes!” Mitch hissed again. “Whatever you say.”

  Mitch gripped the back of the sofa to steady himself as he worked up and down the shaft, leaving his head close to Harlan’s. He nipped the man’s ear as he slid deeper inside Mitch’s tight ass. The man quickly took Harlan’s entire length, which was impressive in itself if his past partners had been any indication, and began to slide up and down the shaft, moaning as he did.

  Harlan kept his hands on the man’s hips and they found an easy rhythm that was comfortable for both. As much as Harlan talked about being in command, he didn’t want to hurt Mitch. In fact, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he’d already developed feelings for the guy beyond the teacher-and-student, and two-night-stand relationship they found themselves in. He wondered if Mitch felt similar but quickly dismissed it, focusing on the now, rather than the future.

  He gripped a little tighter on Mitch’s narrow waist and pushed up a little harder. Mitch didn’t complain, so he did it again, then sped his actions.

  “Take my cock,” he said as he thrust up into Mitch. “Fucking take it.”

  “My ass is yours,” Mitch said, his eyes shut. “Fuck my brains out.”

  “Oh, I will,” Harlan said. “And then I’m going to come in your ass.”

  Mitch groaned in response and bit his bottom lip.

  “Oh, you like the idea of that, don’t you.” Harlan slammed his cock deeper into Mitch. “Hmm? Taking my load like the little cumslut you are?”

  “Mmm hmm,” was all Mitch could say in reply, Harlan’s words or movements obviously stealing speech from him.

  “I’m going to fuck you, come inside you, and then throw you into the shower,” Harlan said, his breath ragged. “And then… Then I’m going to fuck you again.”

  Mitch groaned and ground down on Harlan’s cock. It was Harlan’s turn to be speechless as Mitch gripped his neck and pulled him close, kissing him hard on the lips. Harlan resisted, but only for an instant, before kissing the man back. He wasn’t much of a kisser, but this felt right. Mitch clearly agreed, as once he broke the kiss he redoubled his work, bouncing on Harlan’s cock as he gazed into his eyes.

  Far too soon Harlan felt the beginnings of his orgasm. He could slow, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to feel himself come inside Mitch, and he wanted to feel it now. He began to speed his actions and dropped one hand onto Mitch’s cock, working it feverishly. Mitch gasped in surprise, then gritted his teeth. He was close, too, it appeared. Harlan sped his hand on the man’s cock, working the shaft hard while Mitch worked Harlan’s. Before long, Mitch cried out, and hot ropes of cum hit Harlan in the chest. Harlan tried to hold back while he worked the last drops from Mitch’s cock, but he quickly reached his limit and roared as he came hard, deep inside Mitch’s ass.

  “Fuck,” he said, his hands back on Mitch’s waist as he slammed the man down on his cock. “That’s it, work it all out.”

  As his cock finished pulsing, he pulled Mitch down his shaft again and then pulled him into a tight embrace. They both said nothing, only breathing heavily, for what felt like an age, then Mitch pulled away from the hug, a smile on his lips.

  “Well now, that was something.”

  Harlan laughed and nodded. “Definitely was.” He let go of Mitch’s hips so that the man could climb off his cock, then sat back on the sofa and let out a sigh. “I needed that.”

  “Me too,” Mitch said. “Nothing clears a full head quicker than a good fuck.”

  Harlan held out a hand and Mitch pulled him up. Not that Harlan needed the help. It was just a quick way to gauge the man’s strength. From the ease at which he pulled Harlan to his feet, the new shifter was coming along nicely.

  Mitch turned and began to walk toward the bathroom, then turned back when Harlan didn’t immediately follow. “You coming?”

  “Hmm?”

  The man grinned. “I believe you said something about throwing me into the shower and fucking me again.”

  Harlan matched his grin and stroked at his already re-hardening cock. “That I did.”

  Chapter Nine

  Mitch woke early the next morning to find Harlan snoring gently behind him. It had been years since any of Mitch’s partners lasted longer than one night, and he found himself very glad that Harlan was sticking around. He nuzzled back into the man, Harlan’s cock snug against his ass, then fell back to sleep.

  He woke again sometime later to the ringing of his cell phone, somewhere beneath the sheets. After a quick scrabble around to find it, he answered it.

  “Yello?”

  “Mitch? It’s Theo! You still in the States, or what?”

  “Oh, hey. Yeah, I am.” Harlan stirred behind him, as did his cock. “Something came up.”

  “Someone, more like,” Theo said. A few laughs in the background told him he was on speakerphone with the band. “Turns out we’re still in the States, too. We got talking on a transfer flight and got some ideas for a new song. We’re back home and could really use your voice, dude.”

  “Now?” He frowned as he heard a click behind him, then restrained a gasp as Harlan pushed his cock against his ass. “I’m, uh, kinda in the middle of something.”

  “Jeez, if it’s someone that important, bring ’em with you.”

  Mitch chewed his lip as he considered it and tried not to moan as Harlan pushed inside him. The guy was a horn dog! “I’ll call you back.” He hung up the phone and let out a breath. “Uh, any plans?”

  “Well…” Harlan slipped his hand around and gripped Mitch’s now stiff cock. “I was planning on coming in a little while.”

  Mitch gasped as Harlan pushed further inside
him. “I was thinking more of the next couple of weeks.”

  “Training you. I can pick and choose my targets, so I can take some time off work. Why?”

  “You wanna come lay around my pool and watch me write a song?”

  Harlan paused in his movements for a moment. “Sure. I can train you anywhere, pretty much.”

  “Great. I’ll call Theo back. Once you’re done with me, anyway.”

  Harlan only chuckled and kept working.

  * * * *

  While Mitch grabbed a shower, Harlan found his own phone and sent a quick text to his handler that read, “Hey! I got that teaching gig I was after. All is great. Going to be busy over the next couple of weeks, though. Text me if you need me.”

  He got a reply a minute later that made his stomach churn a little. “No problem. Some guys were asking after you, though. Friends of the guy you did a favor for.”

  His handler had just told him that Brubeck’s pack were still making a noise over Brubeck’s execution. He wasn’t worried for himself, but he now had a student. Good job I’m leaving the state. “I’m heading out of town, so it looks like they’ll miss me,” he replied.

  No reply came, so clearly the handler was satisfied with the reply. That the pack was on the lookout for him was a problem, but only until he stepped into the airport. Speaking of airports… He stepped up to the bathroom door and knocked once.

  “I need to grab my things from the motel and drop the rental car back at the lot,” he called. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

  “Sure thing,” Mitch called back over the sound of the shower. “Just, uh, check that the coast is clear before you head out?”

  Harlan replied that he would, and then took in a deep breath and began to sort through the various scents. The biggest were sex and beer, followed by Mitch’s shampoo. There were no people near the room, though. Even the rooms on either side were empty, as they had previously contained the other members of the band. Sure he’d be able to slip out unnoticed, he grabbed the spare key and quietly slipped out of the door.

  He decided to take the stairs down to the lobby, rather than the elevator, as he had an urge to stretch his legs. On each new floor, he paused to scent the air. He was no longer worried about photographers, now that he was away from the upper floor, but since there was a pack out on the hunt for him, he wasn’t interested in taking chances.

  The lobby was empty, save for the concierge and receptionist, who were merrily chatting away about the occupant of 312, who had apparently hired three prostitutes to pay him a “visit” and then had to call the receptionist for help when one of the hookers lost the keys to the handcuffs. Harlan smirked. Preternatural hearing had many benefits.

  “Morning, sir,” the concierge called.

  “Yeah, you too, buddy,” Harlan said as he passed. “Nice day, huh?”

  A rumble of thunder came a moment later, pointing out his sarcasm to all. Not that a little rain bothered a wolf. Hell, when you were being hunted it was damn handy, as it kept the scents down. He pulled up the collar of his shirt and jogged from the lobby to the parking lot. As he approached the car he got a strong smell of perfume from somewhere nearby. He muttered about people not knowing how much was too much and climbed into his car. He realized his folly as he glanced in the rearview mirror. Sat on the back seats were two weres, each holding handguns, each doused in perfume to hide their scents.

  “Drive,” the thick-set man directly behind him said.

  “Guns?” Harlan pulled the car out of the lot and headed to the road as if he was accosted every day. “Really?”

  “Says the guy with the knives,” the other were, a short blonde woman, said with a sneer.

  Harlan shrugged. “There’s a big difference between a knife and a gun. Left or right?”

  “Left, then keep going till I tell you otherwise.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  He did as he was told, pulling into the flow of traffic. There was nothing he could do for the moment without drawing a hell of a lot of attention from pedestrians and other drivers. Besides, the longer he drove, the further away he got from Mitch. He was safe in the hotel, as security wouldn’t let anyone on the top floor without a key or permission.

  “So, how’d you find me?”

  “We got lucky,” the man said. “We were driving around the area and my wife here caught your scent. We figured you’d be in the hotel, so we tracked down your car and waited.”

  Harlan nodded and glanced at the woman in the rearview mirror. “Good nose.”

  “Shut up,” she spat. “Murderer.”

  “You’re thinking of Brubeck. I’m the guy who stopped him.”

  “Bullshit. Half those news articles were so fucking vague they could have been anyone. All we have is a couple of grainy CCTV shots and your word.”

  “It’s good enough for my bosses,” he said, his attention back on the traffic.

  He shifted a hand to change gear, then paused, thinking to perhaps summon two blades and stick his kidnappers somewhere painful but not vital before they realized what was happening. There was a click as the man flicked the safety off his gun.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said. “The boss wants you alive, but he didn’t say anything about healthy.”

  Harlan smirked and put his hand back on the wheel. “Fair enough. So, what’s the plan? Wait, don’t tell me. You’ll have me drive somewhere remote, then knock me out and drag me to an abandoned cabin where your boss is waiting.”

  “Something like that.” The man glanced out the side window. “Next left.”

  Harlan recognized the area from a previous drive. The next turn led to a smaller road, which eventually would become a dirt road. He’d not gone further than that, but he was pretty sure it’d end up taking him into the sticks, where it was quiet with few witnesses. Almost time to act, then.

  He quickly eyed his captors again in the mirror. The woman was the weak link, just through stature. She’d likely be quicker, but she was slight and would only take one good punch. The man, on the other hand, was built like a rhino, rather than a wolf. If Harlan intended to kill it would be simple enough, but he was representing his employers in this. Brubeck was a murderer, and thus deserving of death, but as far as Harlan knew these two were innocents. He doubted it, but he wasn’t going to risk killing innocent people.

  As he made the turn, he noticed two things. Firstly, there was a thick tree stump on one side of the road. Secondly, he hadn’t put his seat belt on.

  This is going to hurt.

  He kept his course straight, his eyes straight ahead, not wanting to alert his captors of his idea until it was too late. Once he was within a hundred meters, he shifted gears, jammed his foot down onto the gas pedal, and steered straight toward the stump. The two weres cried out in surprise, but it was too late for them to act.

  As the car collided with the stump, turning the front end into a concertina, the force of the impact threw Harlan forward, into and then through the windshield. Pain arced through his head, neck, and forearms as the glass tore at his flesh. He’d hoped that the crash would throw him away from the car entirely, but instead he collapsed onto the hood, his legs still jutting through into the cab.

  As quickly as he could, he pulled himself free and crawled from the hood onto the ground. A shot came from behind and he ducked down, using the stump as cover as one of the weres shot at him. He risked a glance over the stump and found that the man was the one firing, his wife slumped in her seat, likely after having collided with the seat in front.

  “Your wife looks hurt,” Harlan called.

  The man turned to look at his wife and cursed, calling to her and trying to wake her, and Harlan used the time to move around to the side of the car. With a grunt he punched his hand into the metal of the passenger door and tore it away. As the man turned to look at him Harlan grabbed his gun and smashed him in the temple with it. It took three strikes before the man finally slumped sideways, unconscious. Ha
rlan leant in and grabbed the wife’s gun, too, before dropping to his haunches and allowing himself a quick few breaths.

  This pack was serious business, it seemed. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and winced at the sharp pain in his neck. He’d heal up fine, as would his attackers, but it would take a day or two before he felt himself again.

  He turned to the road as he heard a distant police siren. Someone must have heard the shots and called the authorities. With a muttered curse he unloaded both gun magazines and tossed them into a field, then placed the empty weapons on the driver’s seat. If luck was with him, the two would stay out cold until it was too late for them to escape, and the police would find them.

  There was a small copse of trees on the other side of the road, and Harlan ran across to them before stripping off his torn and bloody clothes. It was risky shifting when injured, as it was never certain whether the injury would worsen, but the police would probably sweep the area for the driver of the car. They wouldn’t be looking for a wolf.

  Besides, without a car he needed to move faster than two feet would take him. The few belongings left in the motel weren’t important, and neither was the return of the now totaled rental car. He thanked the gods that he’d had the foresight to pay cash for the car and use a fake ID, then shifted to his wolf form, picked his keys up in his mouth, and headed back in the direction of the hotel.

  Chapter Ten

  Mitch glanced again at the clock as he paced the room. Harlan had said he’d be about an hour, and that had been three hours ago. Mitch had arranged for a limo to pick them up and take them to the airport in style, and it would be arriving very soon.

  When a knock came at the door ten minutes later, he knew something was wrong. He could smell blood and it wasn’t his. He ran to the hotel door and flung it open to find a cut and bruised Harlan stood in the doorway, dressed in soaking wet clothes.

  “It’s raining out, y’know,” he said as he stepped inside the room.

  “What the hell happened?” Mitch asked as he quickly closed the door and locked it. “You look like you were in a car crash.”