"It can happen whenever we want." Conner leaned in closer.
"Now it just sounds like you're making the rules up to suit your needs," Pippen replied. They were so close his lips nearly rubbed against Conner's as he spoke.
"That's all dating is, love."
Conner pushed his lips against Pippen's and his world narrowed. For once he wasn't worried about who was around them, what was going on, the sounds outside or down the street. His entire world reduced to that space, his body and Conner's body, their joined lips formed the center on which all else rotated around. He felt full and yet light as a feather. It was as if his body recognized this moment as important beyond what his mind understood.
***
Shit. Conner was in trouble. From the moment he'd claimed Pippen's mouth, he had an overwhelming urge to claim so much more. He wanted Pippen beneath him, writhing in pleasure, moaning out his name until it was the only name he would ever remember. Conner pulled as much of Pippen as he could against his body.
If he wasn't careful his alpha characteristics were going to become impossible to tamp down. How would Pippen react to him when he discovered he was an alpha? He didn't seem to really like alphas all that much. Not that Conner could blame him. Most of the alphas Pippen had history with had been dicks.
"You're growling," Pippen murmured against his mouth.
Conner pulled back with a curse. "I'm sorry."
His dark eyes sparkled. "No, it's fine. I didn't mind."
"You deserve more than someone who will paw at you in a bar," Conner said, turning his head in an effort to take a breath that wasn't full of Pippen. His scent was proving more intoxicating than the beer.
"I'm no blushing virgin, Conner. I can handle a little pawing."
Conner had no doubt of that. He also liked the way his cock twitched when Pippen said virgin. It transported his brain to a dark room, Pippen, on his back, naked and ready. Willing.
He looked up at Pippen from under his eyelashes. "I have never been so happy that you can't read my mind." He'd probably get punched.
Pippen peered at him with impossibly round, dark eyes. His mouth was pinker than normal, on account of the kissing. Contrasted against his pale skin, he looked unimaginably innocent. He gathered his bottom lip in between his teeth and Conner lost it.
Launching forward, he nearly left his chair and lifted Pippen out of his. He was sure he had growled, positive that he pawed. But he couldn't not kiss Pippen, not when he looked so innocent. So utterly fucking kissable. Pippen's body melted under his touch and formed against his like shrinkwrap against a package. His shifter's body was a paradox, lithe hard muscles that were as pliant under his touch like a snake to a snake charmer.
Conner stood fully, keeping Pippen attached to his front, he fumbled for his wallet so he could slap a few dollars on the table and then haul Pippen out of there.
In the furthest reaches of his consciousness, Conner was aware of the pub door opening, the change in temperature as well as the noise of heavy, booted feet. He ignored the new arrival, not caring that anyone else in the world even existed while Pippen was in his arms. Pippen moaned into his mouth and that tiny noise of pleasure would replay in Conner's fantasies for eternity.
But then, whoever entered walked nearer and Conner got his first real sniff. It was a shifter and he was unfamiliar. Plenty of shifters from the downtown pack you don't know, he thought, justifying the other shifter's presence. Pippen, however, stiffened, tore his mouth off Conner's and before Conner could do so much as grab his hand, Pippen used Conner's thighs to catapult his body up and over Conner's head, landing on the stranger with a growl that filled the entire room.
Even with his alpha reflexes he was at Pippen's side after Pippen had the stranger pinned to the ground with a knee at his groin and a blade at his throat.
"The fuck you doing here?" Pippen snarled, still somehow managing not to raise his voice.
Conner searched the stranger's face. Even pinned to the ground it was impossible not to notice the shifter was extremely attractive. A square jaw that angled up to defined cheekbones. His hair was dark brown and styled in that way that looked effortless but probably took a long time.
The shifter was also a touch crazy. He strained his corded neck against Pippen's knife, forcing the blade into the skin enough that a thin line of blood trickled down his throat. "Foreplay already? But I've just arrived," the other shifter purred.
Conner's every instinct went on edge. He had an idea of who this stranger was and his inner wolf wasn't happy.
He wasn't happy. No, he was fucking livid.
"Silas?" he said, partly because he needed to bring Pippen's attention to him again. Call it petty, but once he'd realized who the stranger could be, all Conner saw were the many places Pippen's body was pressed against the stranger, the parts of them that rubbed against each other.
The stranger didn't spare him a single glance. In fact, his eyes never left Pippen. "Have you been talking about me, lover?" he murmured.
Conner couldn't help himself. He reached for Pippen, grabbing him around the middle as he firmly, yet gently, lifted him up and away from the other shifter. He tucked Pippen in the space just behind him before turning back to Silas.
Silas got to his feet slowly. "Maybe we should take this outside?" he said, looking at the few patrons who were doing their best not to stare. Conner noticed the old bartender put down a bat he'd been clutching under the bar.
"No way in hell we're going anywhere with you," Conner replied. "And you aren't coming to the pack house." He turned back to Pippen. "Grab us another round?" he suggested, grabbing a large bill from his wallet and putting it in his hand. "I'm gonna need something a little stronger I think."
Pippen shot him a look that was pure daggers before nodding and going to the bar. Conner shuffled back, keeping his front toward Silas at all times. He found a table large enough for the three of them and sat down first in one of the two chairs on the side of the table nearest the wall. His choice of seating was meant to show Silas that Conner wasn't afraid, that he wasn't worried about the other shifter having the higher ground because if it came to it, it wouldn't matter which of them was sitting.
Silas pulled his chair out and spun it around so that the back of it rested against the table edge, but remained standing. He turned his head left to where Pippen was paying for the next round. A soft, horrible smile ghosted on his lips. "He's changed," Silas murmured as if Conner wasn't sitting there.
"He has a new life here," Conner said, defensively.
Silas regarded him with a cool look in his eyes. He lifted a napkin to his neck and rubbed the small amount of blood off of his tiny cut. "And yet, in the most important ways, he seems exactly the same."
Conner wanted to hope he was imagining the longing in Silas' tone, the possessiveness. He had to. If he didn't then he'd be forced to confront the fact that Pippen wasn't his mate, couldn't be his mate. And because of that, their relationship would never be one-hundred-percent secure. Pippen could always be taken from him. Someone better or stronger could come along and Conner would have no say in it. Someone like Silas.
Conner had had a mate, and that person, his one permanent partner, had betrayed him. His scars were a daily reminder of that betrayal.
But Pippen felt like his, more than his mate had.
When Pippen made his way back to the table, the smiling, flirting, elf-like shifter from just ten minutes ago was gone. He was the Pippen from months before—cautious, quiet, wary, and dangerous. He set down a shot of amber liquid in front of Conner and one in front of Silas. That made Conner's teeth clench. But, Pippen sat down beside Conner with a water for himself. Once Pippen was seated, Silas slid into his own chair, sitting down in it backwards like a douche bag.
"How long have you been here, Silas? Have you seen Sorell? What are you doing here?"
Silas took only a small sip from his shot glass. "So many questions, Pips." He raised his chocolate-brown eyes up and stared at the two of them.
He didn't seem happy to see Silas, not at all. Conner had nothing to worry about. And yet, when Silas set his shot glass down and his knuckles moved within touching distance of the back of Pippen's hand, Conner wanted to jump forward and rip Silas' hand off.
"Answer me or I'm calling Luke to have you thrown out. This is our territory, you are granted access here because we allow it," Pippen said softly.
Technically, he was right, but their pack had never been very strict about the whole territory thing. They were too small to really enforce it or to need much space. They didn't sell drugs like other packs did, so the need for an established territory was even less.
Seeing Silas sitting across the table though, made Conner think that maybe they should start guarding their territory in shifts.
"Please don't be mean," Silas implored. "I sent you that note that told you I was coming."
"That isn't what that note said."
"It isn't? I thought—"
"Stop fucking playing!" Pippen shouted.
Conner felt stunned. Pippen never spoke loudly. Yet, this guy had him shouting within minutes.
Silas smiled knowingly, like he could see inside Conner's head and knew of the jealousy brewing there. "I'm sorry, Pips. I should have known that you'd moved on so entirely. I should have known that my mission was a fruitless one."
"What mission?" Conner bit the question out.
"It's no good, the pack, my projects." He finished the rest of his shot in one gulp. "I need you back, Pippen."
Chapter Five
Silas was playing a game, but Pippen couldn't think of the angle. There was simply no way in hell that Silas had bothered to travel all the way from Mississippi because he missed him.
Silas didn't miss people. And if he did, he certainly wouldn't miss Pippen; their relationship hadn't been like that.
If it were anyone else sitting across from him, maybe Pippen would guess that he was a brother, missing his only other brother. But that wasn't like Silas either. Sorell was either a commodity or a hindrance to him. Pippen had spent a lot of his time convincing Silas that Sorell was the former, to keep him safe. But it hadn't always. Sorell's curse was hope and he always hoped that one day Silas would stop manipulating everyone around him and treat him like a real brother.
Pippen merely couldn't believe that Silas was here now for any emotional reasons. He had an angle, but what?
"I don't believe you, Silas," Pippen said finally, intensely aware of the tightly held hotwire of anger that Conner had become.
"Love isn't always sane," Silas replied with a pout. He relied on that pout. He also had a smolder that he employed often. Silas knew he was good looking and used his attractiveness like a weapon. "I don't work without you, Pips." He looked between Conner and Pippen before leaning back, defeated.
It was an act. All of it, an act.
"I think I'm too late though," he said finally.
Conner slid a possessive arm around Pippen. "You're right, you're too late. So, you can go back now."
Silas looked up at him from under his long eyelashes. "That's an interesting accent you have. British? London?"
"None of your business," Conner replied coolly.
Pippen noticed the angry tension in Conner's jaw, the shuttered look in his eye. Pippen didn't like him this way. He preferred the carefree, almost boyish charm he usually had. When he was around that Conner it made Pippen feel like a normal guy.
Who was he kidding? The moment he'd detected Silas' scent, Pippen had been transported back to his old life. He wasn't normal.
"I can see I'm making no headway here," Silas replied. "I can't just turn back and head home, though. I traveled a really long way not to see my brother. Or his new mate."
"How do you know about Sorell's mating?"
"Pips, it's my brother, of course I keep tabs."
Pippen didn't miss the way Silas referred to his brother as an it, although he doubted that Silas even realized the odd word usage. He saw people as things. He and Pippen had spent a long time playing with people, toying with them.
At first, Pippen had been reeling from his father's death, his new freedom and the raging anger that had been simmering to a boil from the first time his father had sold his body "for the pack." He'd been angry and Silas had recognized that anger and matched it with his own. They'd done so much harm.
"Sorell doesn't want to see you," Pippen said finally, hoping he hid the sadness he felt when thinking about his past deeds.
"I think I'll let Sorell tell me," Silas said easily. "Unless mates around here are only to follow? Never to make their own choices? Hm, Pips? Does he let you make your own choices?" Silas indicated Conner.
Pippen opened his mouth to respond but before he could, Conner spoke.
"He's not my mate."
Why did that hurt so much?
"Interesting." Silas leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest.
"It really isn't." Pippen couldn't sit any longer. Nervous energy had filled his limbs and demanded he stand, run, fight…anything but sit across from the man he'd done horrible things with and next to the one who had just rejected him.
He stood, forcing Conner to slide his arm down and off him. "There are hotels in town. Stay away from Fifth and Springer, that is another pack's territory. Do not try to find Sorell or the pack house on your own," Pippen said doubting that Silas didn't already know where both things were. "Conner, we should get back."
Conner nodded and stood. He looked torn, like he wanted to stay and make sure Silas didn't follow them. There was no point, really. Pippen was glad when Conner followed him out the door. They made it halfway down the block before Conner sighed harshly, as if finally expelling a breath he'd been holding. "That's Silas."
"Yep."
"He isn't how I imagined."
"He's exactly how I remembered."
Conner grabbed his arm, holding him above the elbow with a firm grip. "Do you want him, love? Tell me right now. Do you miss him, like he misses you?"
"He doesn't miss me," Pippen said. "He—"
"I asked about you, Pippen. Do you miss him? Do you…want him?"
"No."
"Good."
Conner pulled him toward his body, wrapping his arms around him, Pippen let the heat of Conner's body warm his own. He could almost feel like that person he pretended to be again.
Almost.
"We should get back," Pippen murmured into Conner's shoulder.
"Not yet, love." He released him long enough to cup his face, kissing his lips softly. "We've got this bullshit to deal with, I know," Conner said between kisses. Pippen decided the bullshit was Silas' arrival and figuring out what he wanted. "I'm sorry I was so useless in there. I think I was just so shocked. Now that we are out of there, I don't feel so stressed. As long as you're here, by my side, we can get through anything. Easy peasy."
Pippen doubted it would be easy peasy. Mississippi wasn't another country, but it was far enough away from the West Coast that Silas wouldn't have traveled the distance without a reason worthy of all those miles. He'd also left his pack, presumably without a pack master. He must trust whomever he left in charge enough not to try to throw him over before he got back. Or he had a reason for coming that outweighed the possible loss of his pack and that worried Pippen the most. What could be so important? From what could he gain so much? He had too many questions and Conner's kisses kept clouding his head. He pulled away. "We should get back."
<
br /> Luke needed to be informed. Pippen guessed Felix would need to be informed too, if he was going to be the pack leader for the downtown shifter pack. Silas was quickly becoming everyone's problem.
***
Conner let Pippen walk across the street to Sorell's alone so he could go tell Luke about their town's latest visitor without losing time.
He didn't like letting Pippen out of his sight. Loathed it. But ever since Silas' arrival Pippen had seemed withdrawn, making Conner want to do nothing more than reach inside him and pull him back out. That sort of heavy-handedness wasn't going to help anything. Pippen seemed a little better after they left the pub and Conner hoped speaking with Sorell would help him even more.
It had to be hard for Pippen, seeing an old flame. No matter how dark that spark had dimmed since then, it would still be strange. Conner could be man enough to recognize that turmoil and to give Pippen the space he needed to deal with that.
That didn't mean he was backing off, no way in hell. Conner had finally started breaking that crispy shell and he wanted all of this behind them so he could get back to doing that.
He found Luke in the living room with Finn, Frannie, and Daryl. They were watching some reality clothing-design show. Luke sat between Finn and Frannie, who were both in pajamas. He had a thick arm around Finn. Daryl had his gray hair back in a ponytail and was still in his overalls from the garage. He bounced Serena Ann on his knee and scowled at the television.
"That's a horrible color palette," he grumbled, apparently unhappy with the television contestant's choice of fabrics.
"It's part of the theme," Frannie replied. "Hey Conner, there's some pizza left in the fridge if you two are hungry. Where's Pippen?"
"I've got some news, possible trouble."
"Ugh," Frannie sighed. "Of course you do, I was just getting comfy."
Luke turned the TV off and gestured for Conner to stand in front of it. "What's happened?"
"Silas showed up at the pub while Pippen and I were there."
"On a date?" Finn asked.
"Um, what?"
"Were you there on a date?" Finn repeated, smiling.
Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set Page 53