by Bru Baker
She’d barely had any time to grow into herself, so busy living up to what directors and fans thought she should be she’d never had time to discover who she actually was. They were working on shoring up her self-confidence, but Candice’s critics had been hammering it down for the last decade—it was going to take more than a few weeks to fix it. Not only had she been bullied and threatened, it had been by someone she trusted, in a safe space. Richard had done more than just shoehorn her back into that Hollywood starlet box—he’d taken away the fragile peace she’d found here. Harris could kill him.
“I know you heard what Richard and some of the other wolflings said, but those attacks had more to do with them than you. You can’t control how others see you, and I’m sorry some people have such a distorted view of who you are. But you know it’s not true. Just like you know what happened today wasn’t your fault.”
“But it was! She wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t for me. And now more people are going to come, and it’s all my fault. I’ve ruined everything.”
Harris stood up and paced over to the windows. He’d met with all his wolflings to check in with them, saving Candice for last because he’d known she’d need the most time. It was dark out, and he tried not to think about Jackson out there somewhere waiting for him. He hoped he hadn’t already left for Lexington.
“Candice, we are not responsible for the choices others make. This selkie already knew about Camp H.O.W.L. She’s with the Tribunal now, and they will make sure she doesn’t tell anyone where you are or why you are here.”
The Enforcers left hours ago, taking the selkie with them. She’d admitted she wanted photos to sell to the tabloid magazines, but she’d sworn she wasn’t going to reveal the location or name of Camp H.O.WL. There were a ton of rumors swirling around on paparazzi message boards, and right now all of them were focusing on the plane that brought Candice to Lexington. The flight plan had been leaked by someone a few days ago, so photographers descended on Lexington trying to figure out where she’d gone. The consensus among the media was rehab, but they hadn’t been able to confirm she was a patient at any of the hospitals or rehab centers in Kentucky. It was just a matter of time before they widened the search and found Camp H.O.W.L. It was on the books as a medium-security boot camp for juvenile delinquents, so hopefully it wouldn’t rise to the top of any of their lists.
They’d deal with that if it happened. For now, he needed to pull Candice back out of her shell and undo the damage Richard caused.
“We’ve talked about how you’ll keep your secret while you’re in the spotlight,” he said, switching gears. “And you’ve got solid plans for that. But have you thought about if you want that? Is acting something that brings you joy?”
Candice looked up, brow furrowed. “I love acting. I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”
Harris leaned on the edge of his desk. “I’m a little surprised to hear that, considering how much you’ve shared that you hate all the attention.”
She deflated. “I don’t like that side of the business. I just want to act and be left alone.”
“That’s not a realistic goal,” he said gently. “You’re already one of the most recognizable faces in Hollywood.”
“I know,” she said. “I’m buying an estate in Wyoming. A ranch. And that’s where I’ll live when I’m not filming. I want to adopt racehorses who can’t compete anymore.”
“That’s a good goal. Why retired racehorses?”
“Because once they’ve served their purpose, people just throw them away. Like they don’t have any value anymore once they can’t run.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Are you afraid that at some point the same will happen to you in Hollywood?”
She smiled grimly. “I know it will. But when it does, I’ll have a nest egg to fall back on, and I’ll have my ranch. Maybe I’ll open it up to Were families as a vacation spot. Somewhere they can be themselves without worrying about someone seeing.”
“There are a few places like that. It’s not a bad idea. I like that you’re planning for the future and that you’ve identified something outside your career that makes you happy.”
There was a retreat in upstate New York run by selkies that had lakeside cabins supernatural families could rent. It had a human compound too, a hotel with massive indoor waterslides and pools. The regular hotel served as a cover for the supernatural families who visited. It also subsidized the cost of the cabins by the lake to make them affordable for all supes.
“I wanted to go through the Turn like a normal person,” she said, her tone resigned. “I should have known that wasn’t possible.”
“It is possible. You’re just another wolfling here, Candice. I know we’ve had to make some changes to accommodate that, and not all of your fellow campers appreciate that, but no one begrudges you this experience. Trust me. In twenty years, all of you will look back at this and laugh. And I hope you’ll remember it as a time you were able to be yourself and relax. Everyone needs that. It sounds like the ranch you’re buying will be an excellent place to do it.”
Her smile was stronger this time, and she nodded. “Can I head back to my cabin now? Kayla said she’d get stuff to make s’mores, and we’re going to have a fire outside.”
Now she sounded like any other nineteen-year-old wolfling. A weight lifted off Harris’s chest.
“Of course. Have a good night.”
Harris locked up his office as soon as she’d left and hurried over to the infirmary. Jackson was sitting on the front steps with a beer in his hand, watching Nick and Jordan play some ridiculous game with balls attached to strings and a ladder in the dark. It would seem strange anywhere else, but they didn’t have to hide their supernatural abilities here at Camp H.O.W.L. Playing a game in the dark wasn’t a problem for someone with preternatural night vision.
Jackson hopped up when he saw Harris, his eyes flashing.
“Everything okay with the kids?”
Harris nodded. “Everyone is coping well. We’ll see what tomorrow brings, but they’re doing okay tonight.”
“And how are you doing, doctor?” Jackson asked, looping his arms around Harris’s shoulders.
He could feel the beer bottle clunk against his back, but he ignored it in favor of leaning in to give Jackson a kiss. “Better now that I’m here,” he said.
“We’re all better now that you’re here,” Jordan called from the lawn. “He’s been pining.”
“So much pining,” Nick agreed as he lined up his next shot.
Jackson flushed an adorable shade of pink but didn’t deny it. Harris grinned and tugged on his waist, urging him away from the house. “Why don’t we go back to my cabin?”
Jackson lobbed his beer bottle toward the recycle bin on the porch, wincing when it shattered as it hit another bottle inside. Drew yelled something expletive-laden from inside the house.
“Don’t worry, I’m taking him off your hands,” Harris yelled back.
Jackson huffed out a laugh and let Harris lead him down the walkway. “I wish our first night together could have been under better circumstances.”
Anticipation shivered up Harris’s spine. Jackson said first. That implied he saw them having more than one night together. That was good news. Harris wanted all the nights he could get.
“I’m sorry my sessions ran so late and wrecked our plans.”
“Circumstances,” Jackson said with a shrug. “Your job comes first. So does mine.”
The edge in his voice was clear. It was a reminder there was an expiration date on whatever was going on between them.
Harris forced himself to smile. He wasn’t going to waste any of their precious time together. He could mope later.
“For tonight, I’m hoping you come first,” he teased. “I have plans for you. Are you still heading back to Lexington?”
“No. Anne Marie wants us on-site for a meeting tomorrow, and the Tribunal has recommended at least one of us stays until Candice is off t
he property. You’re stuck with me. I’ve already cleared it with the department. My CO knows something’s up. I think he’s realized I’m on my way out.”
Harris wished he could be happy without reservation at the news that Jackson was staying. He should be—he’d made the decision to live in the now, hadn’t he? That meant not borrowing trouble, as Nick liked to say. He hated that his joy at having his mate all to himself was tempered with sadness.
He nearly stumbled when Jackson grabbed him by the belt loops and yanked him back as he was climbing the stairs to his cabin. Jackson saved him from falling by pressing up against his back, caging him in a warm embrace.
Harris turned his head and looked back at Jackson, laughing. “Wha—”
Jackson leaned forward and kissed him. Harris’s neck twinged at the awkward angle, but he didn’t care. This playful, flirty side of Jackson wasn’t something he’d seen before, and he loved it.
He groaned when Jackson tightened his arms around him, stopping Harris from turning to sink into the kiss. A thrill ran up his spine when he realized how much stronger Jackson was. As a Were, Harris was used to being stronger than his partners—or at least on equal footing when he slept with another werewolf. There was no question Jackson was stronger, though. Harris’s pulse throbbed at the knowledge he couldn’t move if Jackson didn’t want him to. He’d had no idea that was a kink of his until now. Though it was more that it was Jackson doing the restraining. He had a kink for anything involving his mate.
“No, no, no,” Jackson muttered against his lips. “What are you doing? You’re going the wrong way. I want my mouth on your dick like, yesterday. No moving backward. Get inside.”
Harris wanted to protest he had been heading inside when Jackson ambushed him with a kiss, but he’d lost the ability to speak when Jackson mentioned his mouth. He went weak in the knees when Jackson dove back in for another kiss, this time sliding a hand down to cup over Harris’s erection. Harris leaned all his weight against Jackson, pressing his ass against Jackson’s crotch.
“Inside,” Jackson growled.
Jackson’s cock was rock hard and felt perfect pressing against Harris’s ass. Harris whined when Jackson broke the kiss and pushed him forward, his legs like Jell-O as Jackson guided him up the rest of the stairs onto the porch.
Harris managed to open the door, and the moment it closed behind them, Jackson spun Harris around, pinning him to it.
“The sounds you make are going to fucking kill me.” Jackson pressed his thigh against him, and Harris rutted against it, groaning at the way the solid heat of Jackson’s muscular thigh provided just enough friction to send pleasure sparking through him.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Harris blurted. He’d regret being so open later, but right now he was drunk on his mate’s pheromones.
Jackson leaned in and mouthed against his neck, and Harris tilted his head to the side to give him more room. His nerve endings were on fire. When Jackson licked a stripe from his jaw to his ear, Harris bucked his hips, desperate for more contact.
His reward was a light nip against the thin skin of his jaw, which made his wolf practically stand up and sing. It wasn’t a mating bite, but the mere sensation of Jackson’s teeth against his skin was the sexiest thing Harris had experienced in his life. He wrapped trembling arms around Jackson’s broad shoulders and held him there, his own breaths coming in gasps nearly drowned out by the pounding of his heart.
“I can’t think about anything but you,” Jackson muttered as he kissed his way up Harris’s jaw. He rested their foreheads together, and Harris realized Jackson was breathing just as hard as he was.
“What you smell like,” Jackson continued, burying his face in Harris’s wild hair and taking a deep breath. “What you taste like.” He dipped back down for a quick kiss that was almost chaste compared to what they’d been doing. “And now that I know what you sound like—” He pressed his thigh against Harris’s erection and elicited a groan from deep in Harris’s chest, “The noises you make are going to haunt my dreams. Fuck, Harry.”
Harris’s fangs itched, threatening to burst through his gums. He wanted to bite Jackson. To mark him as his mate. To stake his claim so everyone who saw Jackson knew he belonged to someone.
But he couldn’t. Jackson didn’t want it, and even though it was physically painful, Harris was going respect his mate’s wishes. There was one thing he didn’t have to hold back on, though. He wanted Jackson writhing and naked, and he was allowed to have it.
Harris tugged at Jackson’s T-shirt, pulling it up over his head when Jackson backed off enough to let him. He’d changed back into his jeans at some point, which was a shame. Jackson’s ass looked amazing in Harris’s sweats. Harris fumbled with the button, desperation making his fingers clumsy. He whined when Jackson batted his hands away, but he stopped resisting when he saw that Jackson was unfastening his jeans himself. He shucked them with an easy motion, letting them pool at his feet.
Harris dropped to his knees and mouthed at Jackson’s precome-damp boxers. Those were Harris’s, too, and the sight of Jackson’s thick thighs straining the cotton was enough to make Harris’s cock jump in his pants. He snaked his tongue through the slit in the fabric, his eyes fluttering shut when Jackson’s bitter-musky flavor exploded across his tongue. Jackson groaned loudly, and Harris opened his eyes in time to see Jackson reaching out to brace himself against the door. His legs were shaking, and pride burst through Harris at the realization he’d been the one to reduce his strong mate to such weakness.
Harris slid his fingers into the waistband of Jackson’s boxers and wiggled them down a few inches, exposing smooth skin. He ran his tongue over the ridge of muscle at his hip, enjoying the way gooseflesh spread along Jackson’s skin as he delved deeper. He pressed light kisses along Jackson’s treasure trail, pressing his nose to the skin and reveling in the scent of his mate’s arousal.
He nuzzled into Jackson’s thigh, the hair tickling against his cheek. Jackson rested a hand on his head, his fingers kneading Harris’s scalp. Harris’s wolf would have purred if it could.
Jackson tightened his grip in Harris’s hair when Harris nosed against his cotton-covered erection. Harris tilted his head up and looked at Jackson, who was staring down at him with lust-blown pupils.
“You’re still dressed.” Jackson’s voice was huskier than Harris had ever heard it.
Harris scrambled to stand up, nearly tripping in his haste to get his clothes off. His shirt joined Jackson’s on the floor, and he toed off his shoes as he struggled with his belt. Jackson had gotten rid of his shoes, and Harris’s eyes were glued to him as he shucked his boxers.
Harris had imagined this moment countless times, but the reality was so much better than the fantasy. His gaze slid past Jackson into the darkened main room of the cabin. His bedroom was down the hall, but he didn’t think they’d make it that far. Hell, the couch was three feet away, and even that was a stretch.
Jackson took the decision out of his hands when he crowded Harris back against the door. The wood was cold on his back, and it felt good to his overheated skin. Jackson’s mouth was on his again, and Harris lost himself in the kiss. His blood was pounding through his veins, and every breath he took was full of Jackson’s scent.
Harris ran his hands up Jackson’s back, mapping out all the dips and curves of his muscles. He found a ticklish spot along his rib cage and filed the information away for later, intent on mapping every inch of Jackson’s body.
They both flinched when Jackson’s phone rang. His jeans were pooled on the floor by their feet, and Jackson kicked them away. The ringing didn’t stop, but a moment later Harris’s phone started to ring as well.
“Fuck me,” Jackson breathed out through gritted teeth.
“I’ve been trying,” Harris muttered as he crouched down to grab his phone out of his pants. “It’s the security office.”
Jackson’s phone had finally stopped, but Harris answered his and pu
t it on speaker. Jordan’s exasperated sigh filled the room.
“Would you tell your boyfriend it’s a violation of his contract with Fang and Fury not to pick up his goddamn phone when it rings?”
“You can tell my boss to shove it,” Jackson said.
“Your boss has heard your concern and tells you to go fuck yourself,” Jordan answered. “We might have a problem. Two different patrols reported feeling like they’re being watched when they’re out in the woods. It could be paranoia, or it could be surveillance.”
Harris tried to pull his shirt back on, but Jackson took it out of his hands and tossed it into the living room. He ran a hand over Harris’s bare ass, making Harris shiver.
“And you need to tell me this right now because…?”
“Because I’m stuck in the control room, and I need someone I trust out there. These people don’t have the training to ferret out a surveillance team.”
Jackson groaned. “Give me twenty.”
“Ten.”
“Don’t push it,” Jackson growled. He disconnected the call and leaned around Harris to put his phone on the table near the door.
“I wanted to take my time with you, but it looks like that’s going to have to wait.” He kissed Harris, hard and wet, and wrapped a hand around both of their cocks. “Was gonna take you apart piece by piece, Harry. Have you begging for my dick by the end.”
Harris was glad Jackson still had a hand on his ass because he might have collapsed without the support. Jackson’s strokes were fast and too dry, but Harris had been on edge since their picnic. It wasn’t going to take much to get him there.