Drilling Dale [Alpha Wreckers 3] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Fel Fern

  “None of your business.”

  “I guess not then.”

  “Are you going to get out of my way?” he demanded.

  “Boss, you in here? Oh,” said a new voice. One of Malik’s crew members. To Dale’s growing shame, all of them were in the kitchen now. “You and this squatter know each other?”

  “Dale’s a friend. Can you give us more time? Why don’t you guys start with the bathroom tiles upstairs,” Malik suggested.

  “You got it, boss.” After the crew left, he swallowed, realizing Malik actually remembered him and knew his name.

  Don’t get your hopes up, he reminded himself. Malik had a reputation around town for being a playboy, and if anyone wanted to play with the big cat, they followed the rules. Malik didn’t do relationships, and yet Malik had brushed him off that evening. Then again, it wasn’t like Dale stood out.

  For one, he was human, broke, and looked ordinary with his brown eyes and hair.

  “So, are you going to keep dodging my questions?” Malik asked.

  “Fine. I lost my damn job, okay, and since you made it clear this property belongs to your company, I’m leaving. No harm no foul, right? Now move.” Dale would have sounded fierce and all, except he faltered at the door, which Malik used to block with his big body. Then to make things worse, his stomach let out a growl.

  He blushed, covered his stomach, but Malik reached out, closed one large and rough hand over his, and gave it a squeeze.

  “Relax, Dale. I’m not here to bust your ass or anything like that. How about we talk things through lunch?”

  “W-what?” Did Dale hear Malik right and the jaguar shifter just asked him out?

  “You heard what I said.” Malik looked him up and down, like he was good enough to eat.

  “Wait a second. You can’t do this. You rejected me at that club. Now you’re offering me a free meal because of pity?” he injected.

  “My, sassy. I didn’t expect that. The incident at the club was”—Malik hesitated— “unfortunate. I never meant to hurt you. It was for your own good you didn’t tangle with me.”

  “Bullshit. Just admit you don’t like me, that you don’t find me attractive at all.”

  “I’ll never admit to something that’s false.” For the first time, Malik’s usually amused face turned dead serious and those emerald eyes turned a shade darker. Dale realized that underneath that smug mask, there might be something deeper. “And that’s not true at all.”

  Had he misunderstood Malik’s rejection? But Malik always seemed like a good actor. Time he really found out.

  “Prove it,” he whispered.

  Dale didn’t know what possessed him to say that, only it sounded right. Besides, he’d read books on dating dominant shifter males. One had to be bold, unafraid.

  Malik gripped his belt buckle. He gulped and squeaked when the jaguar shifter tugged him close and tipped his chin.

  “You asked for it,” Malik said, then took his lips.

  It was even better than his memory of the club. Now that he was completely sober, his insides melted as Malik nipped on his upper lip, sucked on his lower. Sparks coiled in his belly, went straight to his dick, and when Malik prodded his tongue between his lips, he opened up, sucked down on Malik’s tongue.

  When Malik pulled away, he panted, wanting so much more.

  “So, lunch?” Malik asked, smiling.

  “Yeah,” he answered, voice slightly breathy. He knew dancing with a powerful jaguar shifter like Malik was dangerous, but after that kiss, he didn’t think he wanted to resist. Plus, he also wanted to find out why exactly Malik had refused him that night.

  Chapter Two

  Malik had woken in a bad mood that morning, fresh from the nightmare of a past he swore he’d buried, left behind the day Isiah Mercer took a chance on him. Lucky for him, the day went from bad to good. He eyed Dale as the human set his huge duffel bag and guitar carefully inside the booth of the diner.

  The bag looked like it contained all of Dale’s possessions. When he scented Dale’s alluring and familiar scent in that house, he thought he’d been imagining it. Ever since that evening at the club, Malik desired, wanted no other man but one particularly tasty human. He stayed away though, knowing he’d wrecked everything in his path.

  “What would it be, gents?” asked a waitress who came by their table.

  “What are you in the mood for?” he asked Dale, who seemed to have overcome his initial shyness and grabbed the plastic menu.

  “Pancakes, bacon, waffles, eggs,” Dale blurted, blushed, then glanced furtively at him. “Um, just pancakes.”

  He chuckled, unable to help himself. Dale glared at him. Was his reaction so inappropriate?

  “Order anything you want,” he said.

  “You bet, Daddy Warbucks.”

  God damn it, could this human be more adorable? As if to prove his point, Dale ordered three entire meals for himself. Well, Malik didn’t mind, because Dale was seriously skin and bones.

  “The usual, Betty,” he told the waitress. Once she left, he regarded Dale again. “Why, you want to be my adoptive new pet?”

  “That just sounds wrong.”

  Dale seemed to be thinking about it, because the human’s arousal spiked in the air. God, but his own cock pulsed in his jeans. That kiss. God. Malik couldn’t forget it so easily. No other male, human or otherwise, had sparked his interest. His jaguar had never been curious about his lovers. To them, sex was always a casual affair, a different partner each night to satiate cravings.

  “You started it,” he said with a shrug. Malik immensely enjoyed their conversations, too, and Dale looked fucking cute, when he got all huffy, like a tiny tabby cat but one with claws.

  They didn’t speak much. Malik didn’t mind the silence. Food first, then conversation, that was what he’d promised Dale, although the human seemed to be dying of curiosity. He thought he’d pushed it too far when he kissed Dale, but it turned out Dale had kissed him back with equal passion.

  Once food arrived, Dale tucked in. Malik ate his own meal, considering Dale’s situation. Dale must be in dire straits, if he was living in an abandoned house. Anger bubbled inside Malik. That house was inhabitable, but from what little he knew of Dale from conversations with Wren and Henry, Dale was stubborn as hell.

  Dale was determined to succeed, too, which was admirable. Malik knew a little about working his way to the top. Isiah Mercer hadn’t been rich by a stretch. In fact, Isiah could barely feed four extra mouths, but they’d somehow managed when each of them took up odd jobs. Isiah had taught them the skills of the trade, and with that foundation, they’d gotten their respective degrees and relevant experiences.

  Malik and his brothers had built their company from the ground up, and he didn’t have a say if Dale wanted to see his own dream through. That house, though, was a problem. It wasn’t just because it was the current project Malik was in charge of, but he disliked the thought of Dale living in any place that unstable.

  “So,” Dale finally said, after setting his fork down and sipping on his milkshake.

  “You know you’ll get a stomach ache, right?” Malik couldn’t help but ask.

  Dale snorted. “Why do you care?”

  Malik’s annoyed snarl startled them both, but that didn’t seem enough to scare Dale. Brave little human. His jaguar approved of that immensely.

  “Malik…” Dale hesitated. “Why did you refuse me that night?”

  “Did you recall what you shouted at me?”

  “Shouted? I didn’t, did I?” Dale furrowed his brows, and Malik killed the urge to reach over and smooth those brows.

  Malik remembered of course. He’d been talking to some local handsome up-and-coming model when his attention had been stolen by Dale. Dale had sauntered up to him. Malik remembered thinking what a tempting sight Dale made, despite being incredibly drunk. Still, he’d refused to take advantage, and if Dale hadn’t left, some meaner predator who wouldn’t take no for an answer would have
taken advantage.

  “I said”—Dale blushed, looking away— “have sex with me, didn’t I?”

  “Best proposal of the year.”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  “No, it was honest. The real reason? I smelled alcohol on you. Didn’t want to take advantage.” Malik had other reasons, but he couldn’t tell Dale that yet.

  “You could have just mentioned that,” Dale muttered, but the human looked like he understood he’d been beaten, in this argument anyway.

  “Would you remember?”

  Dale looked down at his empty plate. “No.”

  “Will you tell me why you’re living at that house?”

  Malik thought Dale would get all defensive and huffy again, but to his surprise, Dale opened up to him.

  Dale let out a breath. “I lost my job over some lame audition. I mean, I thought it was risky, but I hadn’t realized that the bar I sang at five nights a week would just hire a new singer. And I never planned on staying there forever, just long enough until I get back on my feet.”

  “So location doesn’t matter?”

  Dale raised his brows. “Why, you have other houses on the street you going to flip, too? Basically, you’re warning me off?”

  Any other dominant shifter male would be affronted, but Malik could see it from Dale’s perspective. Dale was desperate, needed a roof under his head, but Dale also had his pride.

  “Actually, I have a pretty big apartment, plenty of room to spare.”

  “Wait,” Dale blurted. “You’re offering me a place to stay? But I can’t—”

  “No rent necessary, until you get back on your feet, right?”

  Dale frowned. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Think of me as a kind-hearted Samaritan. Besides, you’re Wren and Henry’s best friend. If you want me to keep your situation a secret from them, fine, but at the very least I want to make sure you aren’t living in a place that’s about to fall down.”

  Dale nervously rubbed his hands, biting at his bottom lip. Fuck, but Malik wanted another taste, but one taste would lead to more kisses, touches, and eventually Dale on his hands and knees while Malik rutted him. No, he thought, he’d make sure to keep his hands to himself because that night at the club, he’d recognized this human was dangerous.

  “Was it really that bad, that house I mean?” Dale finally asked.

  “The foundation’s unstable and don’t tell me you didn’t see the cracks on the walls and ceilings, as well as the missing floorboards.”

  “I did,” Dale grumbled. “Stop lecturing me already.”

  “So, it’s a yes then? Let’s shake on it?” Malik grinned and stuck out his hand across the table.

  “Why do I feel like I’m making a deal with the devil, even if you’re gorgeous and all?” Dale mumbled, shaking it.

  “Aw, little human. You find me attractive?”

  Dale took back his hand, like he’d been burnt, then blushed. “N-no way.”

  “Let’s get you to my place so you can settle there.”

  Malik took a couple of bills from his wallet and slid out of the booth. Dale followed, guitar and duffel in hand. He grabbed Dale’s duffel to help the stubborn little human along. Before exiting the Running Horse Diner, he said good-bye to the wait staff, whom he’d known since he was a kid.

  He heard Dale running after him. Malik fished out his keys, placed the bag in the back of the jeep, before taking the wheel. He waited for Dale to get in the front, still holding onto his guitar. Malik could tell that guitar was special to Dale. He started the engine once Dale buckled up.

  During the drive, to ease Dale’s tension, he asked about the guitar.

  “Oh, this? It’s nothing fancy.”

  “But it holds special meaning.”

  Dale nodded.

  “It’s a secondhand I bought back in high school.” Dale paused as if considering whether to say more. Then he continued. “My parents were amused at first, thought I’d get bored of it soon enough. I proved them wrong. I started getting heavily into music, to writing my own songs. Eventually, I told them flat-out that I wasn’t interested in getting a degree in accounting. I come from a family of accountants, so it was a crushing disappointment. They kicked me out right after high school graduation.”

  Dale said those words matter-of-factly, but Malik could sense old hurts underneath. It couldn’t have been easy for a kid to suddenly have his parents cut him off like that.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “They should have supported your passion.”

  “They wanted to teach me a lesson, I think, wondered when I’d come crawling back to them for money. I never did. I wanted to prove them wrong, even though it had been rough. I slept in my car, in seedy motels, but I came alive when I got a gig. Didn’t matter back then where I played or how little I made, only that I could reach out to people with my voice.”

  “What eventually brought you to Snow Valley?” Malik asked.

  “Luck, I guess. I had a two twenties in my wallet, overheard some guys in a bar talking about this quaint, remote town in the mountains, and decided I needed a break from seedy roadside bars anyway. Then I met Wren and Spencer. I planned on going to Nashville, trying to make it big there, you know? But this place, I started calling it home. I don’t know what will happen from here.”

  Cole and Spencer had probably seen Dale more often, because Dale, Wren, and Henry were thick as thieves. He’d heard them mention Dale a few times, knew Dale also wrote the music for Henry’s dating game, but he’d never really noticed until Dale had brazenly approached him at that club.

  Now, he began to see Dale came with several layers underneath, and his jaguar, like all cats, wanted to dig a little deeper. Hell, Dale sparked his curiosity enough that he’d invite the little human back to his den, when Malik very well knew he ought to stay away because if they ventured down this dangerous path, he’d eventually hurt Dale.

  No, he’d retain some distance for both their sakes, because neither of them needed complications right now.

  “Malik,” Spencer began. “That kiss—”

  “Let’s forget about it, it was inappropriate of me.” Dale stiffened, but before the human could get all huffy again, Malik went on. “What you need right now is a friend. I can be that.”

  He parked the car in front of an apartment building to find Dale staring at him. Dale seemed to have made up his mind.

  “Thank you,” Dale said in a quiet voice. “I owe you plenty for this.”

  Chapter Three

  “This is the guest room, where you’ll be staying,” Malik said. “Let me get you some new sheets and towels. The bathroom’s in the hall.”

  “Um, thank you.” After Malik left to retrieve the items, Dale looked around the room, still unable to believe he was in Malik’s apartment. Even more shocking was the fact he’d agreed to crashing at Malik’s place and never even considered the pros and cons of it.

  Malik was practically a stranger. Okay, he knew Malik’s connection to his two best friends, but normal folks didn’t just go around, accepting free candy from a shady-looking van either. He wondered if Malik had an angle, but he knew Malik wasn’t like that at all, because Dale had seen a rare glimpse into the man behind the usually smiling, joking handsome mask. He sat on the edge of the bed.

  Like the rest of the design and furniture of the apartment, the guest room had a minimalist look to it, almost Spartan-like, which surprised him given Malik’s colorful personality.

  “Here you go,” Malik announced, placing the pile on the shelf near the door.

  Dale became a little self-conscious, all too aware of Malik’s bulk. His overwhelming presence made it impossible to focus on anything else.

  This was seriously a bad idea, but he still went with it. In truth, he was grateful, because Malik’s assessment of that house made him aware he’d been living in a place that might come down on him any moment. Besides, the prospect of a warm bed and a shower was too good to be true.<
br />
  Malik also made it clear that kiss wasn’t intentional—a mistake, the jaguar shifter had called it. God, but that made him a little mad. It made complete sense though, because the fewer complications between them, the better.

  Dale didn’t plan on imposing on Malik’s hospitality either. Once he found a stable job, he’d pay Malik back for rent, even if Malik insisted he didn’t need to.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours, little human?” Malik asked.

  Dale ignored the question. “Why do you call me that?”

  “Don’t like it?”

  “No, I sort of do.” Oh God. Did he seriously just admit that out loud? It was nice though, a special nickname for him.

  Malik’s phone rang, shattering the awkward moment. Relieved, he nodded when Malik excused himself. Dale grabbed the clean sheets from the shelf, needing something to distract himself with. Then he sniffed at it, smelling some kind of flowery fabric softener. By the time Malik returned, he had the bed made.

  Malik raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the trusty little soldier?”

  He snorted.

  “Anyway, I need to head back to work. Will you be fine here? Oh, wait, here.” Malik took out a ring of keys, pulled out one, and set it on the edge of the bed. “Copy of the apartment key.”

  “What about you?” he asked, dumbly, shocked Malik would trust him with his home. Okay, well, Dale wouldn’t steal or anything like that, but he’d definitely do a little snooping.

  “I have a spare. I’ll be back for dinner, unless you have plans. What’s your number?”

  They traded phone numbers, and before Malik left, the jaguar shifter gave him a wink. “In case you’re going to snoop, my secret porn stash and sex toys are in a box under my bed.”

  Dale blushed hard. “I’m not going to snoop!”

  Malik laughed. “If you have time, go connect with Henry and Wren, okay? No rush, but I know they’ve been worried about you. Besides, you did mention they’re the reason you stayed here. Go talk to them.”