The Wolf at the Door

by Charlie Adhara

  Park’s expression didn’t invite more questions. His face was shuttered and almost aggressively blank as he took a big bite of his cheesecake. For someone who enjoyed being around people, he was a very private person. Charming other people from behind a carefully controlled mask. Cooper wondered if he’d always been like that or if it was something he’d learned out of necessity.

  Regardless, Park’s history wasn’t Cooper’s business. He cast around for a change in topic that would move them past the sudden tension. He also needed to distract himself from ordering another drink which, considering the way his head kept nodding to a beat that wasn’t there, would be a very bad idea, indeed.

  “So, you’ve got a big appetite,” Cooper said, leaning over the table, and tried unsuccessfully to keep his upper body still. He’d matched Park drink for drink, but Park seemed unaffected by the alcohol. Cooper, on the other hand, was convinced that though he’d steadied his head, his shoulders were now doing the ol’ bop and roll of a boozy dame down on her luck asking the hero why he’s gotta be such a heel. “You said that was a wolf thing?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How?” Cooper said.

  Park took another bite of his cheesecake and chewed, regarding Cooper thoughtfully. “It’s a metabolic strain. The shift. Requires a lot of energy in a little amount of time. If I’m shifting I need a lot of calories.”

  Cooper nodded. That made sense. Wolves weren’t magic, after all, even if it sometimes seemed that way. “But you’re still eating a lot now and you haven’t shifted.”

  Park gave him a dry look.

  “You have? When?” Cooper hissed, leaning forward. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it.

  “It’s healthy to at least once a day. Otherwise the tension can build and the need can just...pop up at the most inconvenient times. You know how that is.” Park smiled and then, outrageously in Cooper’s tipsy opinion, he winked. It was good to know one of them had retained fine motor skills. Cooper was struggling to swallow.

  “Is something wrong?” Park asked. He looked quietly amused.

  “No. Just disappointed I didn’t see, you know, you do your thing. I never have. Seen anyone do that, I mean. Only a few agents I know have.” Cooper belatedly wondered if he was being rude talking about Park like he was a sideshow. Still, if you heard someone was doing something amazing like triple backflips in their spare time, you’d want to see it, wouldn’t you?

  But this wasn’t something Park had learned, this was who he was. His very identity. “Never mind. I don’t want to see it.”

  “Because it disgusts you?”

  He shook his head very quickly. “Of course it’s not disgusting. It’s incredible. But my partner says you can’t take your eyes off a shift even if your life depended on it, and I already look at you way too much.”

  He frowned at himself. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that either. He blinked at his suddenly empty drink. How had that happened?

  Park had a peculiar look on his face. Confused but pleased, too. An almost bashful look of pleasure.

  “Does it hurt?” Cooper asked.

  “Not really.”

  “We never see shifts and I guess I assumed it’s because it’s painful.”

  “No. Just inconvenient.”

  Cooper looked at him blankly.

  “To be naked,” Park explained, and Cooper flushed. He thought he might be doing a lot of that today.

  “I guess that makes sense. I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “It’s a standing joke around the Trust that the real reason behind the coming-out was to combat the number of public indecency charges wolves rack up every year.”

  Cooper laughed. “So it doesn’t hurt at all?”

  “If anything it’s a satisfying pain. Like cracking your knuckles, pushing a bruise, a hard fuck,” Park said. His expression changed so little that Cooper wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

  “Right. Well. That’s good.”

  Park smiled, and there was a flicker of that same heavy-lidded look from the motel room. Not quite as predatory, but clearly not just thinking about cheesecake and some old poetry anymore.

  Cooper’s legs bounced restlessly. He stretched them under the table and the sides of his calves pressed gently, almost imperceptibly, against Park’s. His legs felt warm, so Cooper left them there. Park didn’t acknowledge it. But he didn’t move away either.

  Cooper was abruptly impatient to leave. The atmosphere of the Ancient Mariner had done a 180, from spooky and deserted to intimately private to oppressively too public. He wanted to get up and move. If he was a wolf he would shift out of his too-tight, too-weak human skin and run all the way back to the motel. Why stop there? They had too much to follow up on this case. Maybe he’d...what? Nothing at this hour. But Christ, he just wanted to do something.

  “Do you shift at night or in the morning?” Cooper asked.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Park stared at Cooper and then tilted his head slightly. “Not tonight,” he amended.

  Cooper nodded and continued to stare at Park, his leg still bouncing slightly, grazing Park’s calf.

  Park blinked slowly and signaled for the check. The conversation died. That was fine by Cooper. He didn’t feel like talking anymore. Too much talking. Too much thinking and worrying and second-guessing.

  They didn’t speak. Not in the restaurant. Not in the car driving back. And not walking across the parking lot to the motel.

  The night seemed warmer than when they’d left and Cooper tugged at his shirt, feeling flushed. The moon hung full and low in the sky, bathing the lot of cars in a silver shimmer. Even the somewhat rustic motel looked ethereal with its new silver trimmings.

  Well, shit, look who was being all poetic now. Cooper almost said something to Park but couldn’t bring himself to speak. The silence between them felt almost physical, like a coiled spring waiting for release. He could feel Park looking at him. Watching, always watching. So attentive. But never expectant. It was...freeing.

  They stopped outside Cooper’s door and stood in silence for a moment.

  “Do you think you’re in danger?” Park said.

  Cooper took a moment to remember why he’d be in danger. “The lock looks untouched,” he said. He clumsily unlocked and swung the door open to reveal the dark, still room.

  “Wait here,” Park said, and walked inside. Cooper watched from the doorway as Park looked around and poked his head in the bathroom and closet, sniffing delicately. He came back out and said, “All clear.”

  Cooper nodded absently. “Good.”

  They looked at each other.

  “Well. Goodnight, Dayton.” Park started to turn.

  “Wait,” Cooper said. He wet his suddenly dry lips. “Aren’t you going to check under the bed?” The words come out slow, thick and suggestive.

  Park stared at him for a moment, and then suddenly Cooper was being pushed inside. The door slammed behind them and he was shoved against it.

  The hard length of Park’s body pinned him to the door. Park’s face was right up against his own, and Cooper’s breath caught in anticipation of the kiss. But Park refused to close those last couple of critical inches. He swayed forward and then back again, rocking his body against Cooper’s. Coming close to his lips and then pulling away, all while examining every inch of Cooper’s face. A tease? Or a question.

  It was a lot like Cooper’s dream. Only this time he was facing forward and knew exactly who was thrusting against him.

  You know who I am.

  Cooper grasped Park’s head and pulled it down to his own.

  The kiss was rough and Park’s mouth was hot and sort of sweet-tasting, whether from the cheesecake or the innate flavor of his body, Cooper couldn’t tell, but he was sure as hell looking forward to further investigation.

  Park’s hands were fri
sking him with purpose, rubbing up and down his flanks firmly, thumbing his nipples. When one large hand palmed his erection through his jeans, Cooper lost focus on the kiss and his head fell forward, forehead resting on Park’s shoulder. He inhaled Park’s scent, crisp and masculine, and let the scalding pleasure wash over him as Park efficiently unbuttoned his shirt and jeans, greeting each new bit of revealed skin with lavish attentions.

  “Good. Very good,” Park was murmuring as he shoved Cooper’s jeans off and freed his aching dick. “I’ll take care of you.”

  A ridiculous thing to say, Cooper thought, and would have rolled his eyes if the words weren’t so arousing in their sincerity. Park truly wanted to take care of him and Cooper...

  Cooper wasn’t interested in hearing anything else that made him think. His mouth covered Park’s, thankfully smothering his own broken groan as Park’s hand wrapped around his cock, fingers teasingly acquainting themselves with his girth and length and topography.

  He threw himself deeper into the kiss, pulling Park closer.

  Cooper was vaguely aware he was being a bit too sloppy, using a bit too much teeth, but dismissed the thought as Park kissed him back with the same raw intensity. Finesse was for the kids. Or at least the sober.

  “Yes,” Park whispered, breaking away as Cooper’s hands fumbled Park’s jeans open and shoved his hand inside. “Take it.”

  “Jesus,” Cooper gasped into Park’s neck, and took a hold of his dick, hot and heavy and rudely shoving past Cooper’s hand to poke him in the groin like a horse racing out of the gate. In fact, a horse was a good analogy in more ways than one. “Jesus.”

  Park leaned back slightly, letting Cooper work his sizable cock for a bit and then stepped back to quickly finish stripping himself. Cooper kicked off his own jeans and underwear and realized he still hadn’t managed to slip off his unbuttoned shirt. Not necessarily a bad thing when Park used the cloth to pull him forward forcefully against his hard body and away from the door, freeing up Cooper’s ass to grab.

  Cooper whimpered embarrassingly against Park’s throat. He thought he might be trembling. He knew his spine was curving, lifting his ass into Park’s hands like an offering.

  “That’s right,” Park said, massaging him knowingly, completely in control. “I got you.”

  It aggravated Cooper suddenly. He shoved at Park, hard, who stumbled back quickly at the touch, giving him space. Not physically off balance but mentally so. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong and expected a scolding.

  Cooper took his shirt off, damp with sweat now, and threw it at Park, who caught it and then held it to his nose and inhaled without looking away from Cooper, his expression still cautious.

  Whatever he saw in Cooper’s face—or smelled in the shirt fabric, for that matter—cleared up any uncertainties and he smiled, eyes narrowing. A predator once again, happy to let his prey play.

  Cooper stalked forward and pushed Park again, so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, and then straddled him, gripping his powerful shoulders. He began bumping and grinding against Park, demanding they follow his pace now.

  Park ducked his head and Cooper felt his hot tongue swiping firmly over his nipples. As hot as Cooper’s skin felt, Park’s mouth was still somehow hotter. The sensation was staggering. Doubly so when Park started jacking their dicks together.

  Cooper twisted and cried out. His hands, running through Park’s hair, tightened for balance. He may have been a bit narrower than Park, but he was still a fairly tall, grown-ass man and not made for squirming around on laps half on and half off the bed. He pushed Park again, who fell backward eagerly, with Cooper sprawled over him. Cooper braced himself and started rutting against Park, finding a delicious friction.

  He could feel Park’s lips brushing back and forth across his clavicle and over his chest. Whispering something against his skin. Unbearably gentle. Accepting whatever Cooper gave him.

  It physically pained Cooper how easily Park could hand over control like that. Not a hint of struggle in him. The utter self-confidence of easy passivity.

  He gasped against Park’s temple when he felt teeth graze the soft spot under his jaw. Cooper wanted that. He was so tired of struggling. So tired of defending his position, of proving himself. So tired.

  He tugged at sweat-slicked skin until they rolled and Park now covered Cooper. He just wanted to feel.

  They found a new rhythm together.

  “You like that?” Park said softly.

  Cooper grunted. He wasn’t really one for talking during sex. Especially when the answer seemed obvious like this. He wasn’t quite sure what to say besides the time-tested yes and no.

  He tried to pull Park down farther, encouraging him to let his full weight drop onto him.

  “You want this?” Park said.

  Well, obviously. It was a moot point anyway as Cooper lost his breath along with anything he might have said when Park suddenly and fully settled on him.

  Cooper groaned appreciatively. He loved that. Loved the overpowering weight of another body on his. A larger, heavier body overpowering his. Shoving him into the mattress. Forcing him to be still.

  “You want to be pushed down? Held down?”

  Was Park still talking? Cooper wasn’t planning to bother answering this either, but thankfully his overheated brain caught up to the situation in time, and he realized Park was hesitating, pulling back a bit. Park’s eyes, which seemed almost golden in the dark room, were watching Cooper closely. He was really asking a question now, not just rambling.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I want that,” Cooper said, and nipped encouragingly at Park’s shoulder. He was amused to feel him jerk and growl in response. Cooper did it a second time, harder, and then laughed a little breathlessly though nothing was particularly funny. But he felt fun and light and giddy all the same. The joy of uncomplicated pleasure—or possibly it was oxygen deprivation.

  Cooper couldn’t help it, he laughed again, and Park kissed him, a sloppy, awkward meeting of two smiles that still managed to taste sweet.

  Park pressed Cooper harder into the mattress, and Cooper knew he couldn’t have escaped if he tried. He tried anyway, because that’s where all the fun was to be had.

  He bucked and squirmed and nipped at salty sweet skin, occasionally repeating encouragement to Park to tighten his hold and exert more of that unassailable strength of his until Cooper felt Park weigh him down like a fire-warmed stone, forcing him to settle.

  Cooper knew he was gasping nonsense now. Something dull and unoriginal along the lines of yes, yes and more please, yes. But he wasn’t interested in thinking up anything clever. Whether it was the gin or the emotionally draining day, he found he no longer cared what he sounded like or even what Park thought of him.

  Park was still laughing a little breathlessly, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. He pushed Cooper’s sweaty hair out of his eyes and said, “Jesus. You’re a wild one, aren’t you?”

  Cooper dug his fingers into the muscles of Park’s back in lieu of response and continued to rut beneath him. Park met his uncontrolled animal thrusts with his own.

  They sped up. The sounds of their collective grunting filled the room. Aggressive and single-minded now. The atmosphere had turned sharper. They’d rounded the bend to the final stretch, each chasing his own pleasure.

  So good. So simple. So beautiful...

  And then Cooper was releasing. And it was a release, all-consuming and inevitable. He couldn’t do a thing to stop it once it started. Not a thing. Wasn’t that freeing? To be a passenger to his own pleasure. To just let go and let his body experience without the least bit of control.

  He could just be.

  He was vaguely aware of Park’s shuddering climax against him, like ripples under the floating raft of his own sleepy bliss. Soon after that he was being drawn farther up the bed and poured into the
sheets. Park’s presence had softened from stone to sea. No less powerful, but gentler, somehow.

  There was probably something he should be saying or doing, Cooper thought. But he was so tired. And for once, he felt no expectations hovering around him. He felt content. He felt Park’s content. So he let himself drift. Park’s warm arm draped over Cooper’s waist anchored him, preventing him from getting lost at sea.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cooper woke alone. For the second morning in a row his cell phone vibrated insistently, dragging him to consciousness. He rolled across the empty bed and fumbled in the direction of the sound, finding his cell attached to his charger.

  Weird. He couldn’t remember plugging it in last night.

  Last night. Oh God—

  His eyes shot open. Big mistake. He hastily shut them again.

  He was sure he’d left his phone in his pants and his pants by the door. He cracked his eyes open. Nope. No clothes on the floor.

  Let it have been some kind of fever dream. Let him have been concussed from the fall, after all.

  He glanced around the room and spotted his clothes, neatly folded and stacked on top of the dresser. Not something he would ever have done himself. Not a dream then.

  “Dayton,” Cooper croaked into his phone.

  “Damn, kid, rough night?” Jefferson’s voice crackled.

  Cooper winced as memories of the night before trickled back uninvited. Fuck, had he really been that...pushy? He had never considered himself an aggressive lover before, but he had certainly felt free to shove Park around and, unless he was mercifully mistaken, repeatedly and angrily demand Park use his superhuman strength to overpower him and crush him into the mattress.

  He struggled with the urge to groan.

  “Kid? Dayton?”

  “Here. I’m fine. Just—What’s up?” Cooper pushed himself to sitting. His muscles ached but he wasn’t as stiff as he’d feared. Last night had loosened him up, in more ways than one. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so...uninhibited.