by Ally Blue
Laughing, Nat pulled off a big chunk of his cake. “I thought you Hollywood-types lived on rabbit food and sparkling water.” He bit into the funnel cake and raised his eyebrows at Rafael.
“Pfft. Filthy lies.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Cake is good for your soul. We know that in Hollywood too.”
Nat snickered. Rafael flashed his sunny smile, then lifted his coffee for another sip. His lips pursed around his straw, and man, it wasn’t fair that a piece of green plastic got to have that gorgeous mouth wrapped around it when Nat was sitting right here. He licked his lips.
Rafael’s smile went soft and sexy, like he’d seen inside Nat’s head and liked it. “What’re you thinking?”
The trouble-making gleam in Rafael’s eyes urged Nat to lean forward, elbows on the table, and lower his voice to the lupine growl that always made Rafael’s gaze turn hot. “I’m thinking this is the first time I ever wished my dick was a straw.” He smirked when Rafael choked on a mouthful of coffee and started coughing. “Sorry.”
“No you’re not,” Rafael gasped when he got enough breath. “Jackass.” His grin took any sting out of the word.
“Hey, you don’t wanna know, don’t ask.” Thoroughly pleased with himself—also still kind of turned on—Nat helped himself to another piece of funnel cake.
Plunking down his coffee cup, Rafael matched Nat’s forearms-on-the-table posture and stared into Nat’s eyes with a part-teasing-but-mostly-serious intensity that sent a whole flock of birds fluttering in his stomach. “Wolfman, when I get you alone? You’re gonna be glad your junk’s not made of plastic.”
Pure need flared in Nat’s gut. The world spun around him for a second. He watched Rafael’s sweet mouth curve into an evil smile and wondered how much trouble he’d get in if he shoved his tongue down Rafael’s throat right here in the picnic tent.
“Nat? Rafael? Oh my goodness, hi!”
By the time Solari’s voice cut through the sex-fog in Nat’s brain, Rafael had already shaken himself into the talking-to-people mode that seemed to come so easily to him. He stood and hugged Solari while Nat was still easing his mind back into the real world.
When she let go of Rafael, she hurried around to Nat’s side of the table. Her hair was tucked under a wide-brimmed red hat, and gigantic round black sunglasses hid her eyes. She smiled as she stood on tiptoe to hug Nat and kiss his cheek. “It’s so good to see you, Nat. I feel like I’ve barely spent any time with you lately.”
“I know. It’s good to see you too.” He plucked at the sleeve of her yellow blouse, loose and flowing over snug navy blue Capri pants. “You look cute. Are you in disguise?”
She laughed. “I am, yes. And it’s worked, for the most part. A couple of people recognized me, but they were very considerate and didn’t reveal my secret.”
“Well, that’s good.” Rafael gestured at the cooling funnel cake. “Sit down and have some of this. It’s really good.”
She eyed it with a deep sigh. “I’d love to, but I can’t. You know how formfitting Alicia’s outfits are.”
Nat studied her tiny, fat-free figure. What was she, a size two at the outside? More likely a zero. And still, a few internet trolls called her chunky because she had curves in spite how thin she was. It pissed him off. The fact that she felt like she couldn’t have a bite of red velvet funnel cake pissed him off too. In fact, when it came down to it, so many things about Hollywood and Hollywood-related shit pissed him off, he didn’t even know where to start. Even though he kinda-sorta wanted to be part of the whole Hollywood business. Which confused him.
Which was why he mostly kept his mouth shut.
“Oh, Gina’s here.” Rafael’s smile turned plastic. “How nice.”
Nat looked around, confused. “Who’s Gina?”
Before Rafael or Solari could answer, a tall, striking woman with dark skin and short dark hair strode up, put an arm around Solari’s shoulders, and handed her a huge cup advertising itself as fresh-squeezed lemonade. “Here you are. It’s sugar-free.” She aimed a wide, friendly smile at Nat and Rafael. “Hi. I’m Gina Carrington.”
Rafael shook the hand she offered. “I’m Rafael, Solari’s assistant. I’ve heard all about you.”
The woman’s smile slipped a little, but recovered when she faced Nat. “You’re one of the werewolves on the show, aren’t you? I think I recognize you.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Nat shook her hand, trying to work out whether being recognized made him happy or nervous. “I’m Nat. Nice to meet you.”
“You too, Nat. Rafael.” Gina pulled Solari closer, rubbing her shoulder. So this must be Solari’s long-term partner. Meaning Solari must be in the closet, since Nat hadn’t heard even a whisper of this relationship. Interesting.
He peered at Gina, trying not to let his curiosity show. She seemed nice. So what was wrong between her and Solari? And why the dislike he sensed from Rafael?
Clearly, there was more to this story.
Resolving to pump Rafael for information later, Nat put on his best making-friends smile. “So, Gina. How long have the two of you been together?”
Solari bit her lip and kept quiet while Gina said, “About a year and a half.” She bumped her hip against Solari’s waist. “You want to tell them our news, sweetie?”
Solari’s expression—what Nat could see of it—didn’t change, but her shoulders rose and her fingers wove together in a white-knuckled knot. “I’m sure they’re not interested. We’ve interrupted their afternoon long enough; we really should go.”
“Oh, I’m interested.” Rafael smiled, sugary sweet. “What’s the news?”
“Well, if she won’t tell you, I will.” Gina beamed like she hadn’t noticed either Rafael’s attitude or Solari’s sudden tension, and Nat wondered whether she was a top-tier actress like Solari or if she was honestly that oblivious. “We’re going public, finally. Isn’t it fantastic?”
Judging by the murderous glower in Rafael’s eyes and the downward turn of Solari’s mouth, Gina was the only one who thought so. Nat thought he might be figuring this thing out. And he didn’t much like it.
Since Solari clearly didn’t want a confrontation here in the middle of the arts fair crowd, though, he forced the best cheerful face he could muster. “Hey, if Solari’s happy, I’m happy. Congrats.”
This time, Gina’s eyebrows pulled together a little bit, like she’d finally caught some of the subtext hammering her from all sides. Her smile, however, stayed firmly in place. “Thank you, Nat.”
She didn’t say anything else to Rafael. Not that he’d offered his congratulations, because he very pointedly hadn’t. Nat got the feeling Rafael would happily die in a house fire before he would congratulate Gina on taking her relationship with Solari public.
Solari touched Gina’s hand. “We really should go, Gina. I’m sure the boys would like to be alone. And didn’t you want to see the photography exhibit?”
For a second Gina didn’t say anything. She glanced from Nat to Rafael and back again, her expression disappointed. “I did, yes.” Her smile returned, way dimmer than before. “Gentlemen, it was lovely to meet you both. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
“You too, Gina.” Nat grasped Solari’s hand, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. “Call me,” he whispered, so only she could hear, and smiled when she squeezed his hand. He drew back. “Have a great day.”
Rafael gave Solari a hard, lingering hug, and Nat knew he was telling her to call him too. When the two women wandered off, Nat took Rafael’s arm and hauled him down to the picnic table’s bench, then sat beside him. The plank was small enough that they had to sit plastered together, touching from shoulder to knee. Rafael’s whole body was taut and trembling, and Nat wanted to fix it. Wanted to soothe him. Make him feel better.
Taking Rafael’s hand under the table, Nat wove their fingers together. Nuzzled Rafael’s cheek, despite the people milling all around them. If anyone had a problem with a little bit of PDA, they
could bite his bony ass.
Rafael let out a long breath, his body relaxing a bit. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be all bitchy. But fucking Gina, man. She’s been pressuring Solari to come out for ages and go public with their relationship, and Solari didn’t want to. I’m afraid she’s only doing it now because Gina threatened to leave her if she didn’t. Not overtly, but it’s what she meant.”
“Shit. Poor Solari.” Nat rubbed circles on Rafael’s hand with his thumb. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Rafael turned to smile at Nat, the bright smile that made his chest feel tight and floaty at the same time. “Thanks for being so great.”
Nat felt his usual goofball grin spreading over his face. “My price for greatness is for you to make good on that fucking straw promise.”
Rafael’s face went from happy to startled to anticipatory. Chuckling, he planted a soft kiss on the corner of Nat’s jaw. “Never fear, my wolf. I will.”
And that did it. Nat laid his free hand on Rafael’s cheek and kissed him. And he couldn’t decide if his heart was pounding so hard because of Rafael’s tongue against his, or because Rafael had called him mine.
As badly as Rafael wanted to prove he liked sucking cock better than straws—and boy, did he ever—the truth was, the whole business with Gina had killed the mood, and even Nat’s slow, sizzling kisses couldn’t bring it back to where he wanted it. So the two of them eventually finished their funnel cakes—cold now, but still hands down the best Rafael had ever eaten—and sauntered off into the sunshine to check out the rest of the fair.
Nat plucked his shades off the top of his head and slid them over his eyes. “So. What d’you want to do now?”
“I don’t know.” Rafael slipped his hand into Nat’s. The urge to look over his shoulder poked at him, but he resisted. He knew what he’d see. Half the crowd turning away with a scowl, the other half trying hard not to drool on their shoes. People were so predictable. “What about the wood-carving exhibit? That ought to be pretty interesting.”
Nat’s eyebrows rose over the tops of his knockoff Wayfarers. “Hollywood boy goes native. Whatever will the folks back home say?”
Laughing, Rafael elbowed Nat in the ribs. “Shut up. I’ll have you know my great-aunt Carmelita married a member of the Makah tribe. They lived in Neah Bay until they died. She used to bring us carvings when she came to visit. I always wanted to see more wood art from this area.”
“Well, if that’s what you want, we’ve got some great stuff here.” A rare unguarded smile spread over Nat’s face. “Maybe you can tell me which ones are Makah. There’ll probably be a few.”
“I’ll give it a shot.”
They made their way through the growing throng of humanity, Nat leading Rafael by the hand. Rafael fell into a melancholy quiet as they went. Talking about his great-aunt had made him miss her like he hadn’t in years. Made him miss his family in general. Which always made him sort of resent having to be here. He lived in Hollywood, for fuck’s sake. Born and raised. Knew every golden boulevard and grimy alley like his own backyard. But he’d been invisible as a director until he’d hauled his butt out here to the ass-end of nowhere.
Okay, yeah, he knew how it worked. He didn’t have the money or connections to make it in Hollywood without a name or any accomplishments under his belt. A nobody fledgling like him had to leave the nest to soar. But just because he understood it, didn’t mean he had to like it. He sighed.
Nat cast him a sidelong glance, but didn’t say anything. Good, because Rafael had no clue how to answer the what’s wrong question in a way that wouldn’t make him sound like an ungrateful jerk.
Maybe I am an ungrateful jerk.
Yeah, maybe. If he was, he didn’t feel like facing it right now. Instead, he drew closer to Nat, close enough to rub his cheek on Nat’s shoulder. The well-worn cotton of Nat’s blue Fun Acres T-shirt was soft and cool against Rafael’s skin. He breathed in Nat’s scent—practical soap and old, comfortable clothes—and felt better. Calmer. More at home in the world.
Strange, he thought, how being around Nat made him feel that way, when he knew what a mess Nat’s life was. Maybe his own problems simply seemed insignificant in comparison.
At the tent’s entrance, Nat stopped, shoved his sunglasses back on top of his head, and turned to face Rafael with a sudden intensity that left Rafael weak all over. “Hey, Rafael?”
“Yeah?” He glanced at the people milling around. Most ignored them, which was probably good. “What’s up?”
Nat’s gaze cut left. Right. Fixed on Rafael again, fierce as a hunting wolf. He grasped both of Rafael’s hands in his and stepped near enough for Rafael to see the thud-thud-thud of his pulse in his throat. “Can we go to your place? After the fair?”
Rafael’s heart tried to escape out his mouth, taking his breath with it. He stared at Nat like an idiot, wishing like hell he could actually answer, because all he wanted in the universe right then was to say, Hell to the fuck yes!
What emerged from his strangled throat was, “Ah . . .”
“I mean,” Nat continued in that sexy whisper-growl that was making Rafael’s knees knock together, “we can’t go to my place, ’cause of my dad. He lives with me. And I really, really can’t stop thinking of your mouth and that stupid straw and my dick, and, well. Other things.”
Rafael gulped. “Ah . . .”
“Yeah.” Nat’s pale cheeks turned a completely charming shade of fuchsia. “I haven’t gotten fucked in years, man. I need it.”
“Oh God.” Rafael clung hard to Nat’s hands and found his voice at last. “You know what? Screw the damn carvings. Let’s go to my place right now.”
Nat beamed like a lighthouse lamp. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Rafael’s apartment was maybe ten minutes from Hobb’s Park—if that—but it felt more like a couple of hours. Partly because the shocks in Nat’s ancient pickup truck were shot to hell, but mostly because as long as they were on the road, Rafael couldn’t jump Nat like he wanted to. Couldn’t wrap his fingers or his lips around Nat’s cock. He’d have to wait long, wasteful minutes to lick Nat open and fuck him into next month.
He was so busy imagining how Nat would taste that he almost missed the turnoff to his building. “Here, Nat, turn right here!”
“Fuck!” Nat spun the wheel. The truck skidded onto the narrow drive, tires squealing, and bounced back to the pavement with a skull-rattling thump. Nat let out a breathless laugh. “Maybe I should try out to be a stunt driver on the show.”
Terror mingled with unflagging desire and clogged Rafael’s throat. “Ah . . .” he breathed, both hands white-knuckled on the oh-shit strap.
Nat snickered like the rat he was. “Sorry.”
“Ah . . .”
Laughter. Low, sexy-growly laughter.
Goddamn it. Irritated, turned on, and coming down from the adrenaline rush of nearly getting killed, Rafael reached over and grabbed Nat’s crotch.
Nat sucked in a hissing breath. The truck swerved toward the tree-blanketed hill on the left of the road for a horrifying second before he got it under control. Thank God no one was coming from the other direction. He gripped the wheel like it would escape if he didn’t hold on hard enough. “You. Are evil.”
“Guilty.” Enjoying himself now, Rafael squeezed gently. He grinned when Nat cursed and swatted his hand away. “Follow the road around to the back of the complex. I’m in building C.”
Nat eyed the cluster of four-story wood-and-stone buildings in silent curiosity as he drove. The apartment complex was fairly new, one of the crop of housing that had sprung up in the wake of Wolf’s Landing’s arrival in town, with its horde of actors and crew needing places to live. It was nothing fancy, but it was comfortable and the neighbors were quiet. Plus, the price was affordable enough for Rafael to have a spare bedroom to use as a makeshift studio.
“Don’t most of the Wolf’s Landing people like to live someplace more private?” Nat asked as the two of them clim
bed the stairs to Rafael’s second-floor apartment.
“Maybe, but the places that’re really private are too expensive for anyone but the big-name actors. Crew and PAs end up in places like this one. Besides, I don’t really need privacy. Nobody knows who I am.” Rafael punched in the entry code, opened the door, and pulled Nat by the hand into his small but homey living room. “You want a drink or something?”
“Nope.” Nat kicked the door shut. “Only one thing I want right now.”
Rafael didn’t have to ask what it was. Pulse racing, he stepped into Nat’s personal space, anchored one hand in his silky blond hair, and tugged his head down for a kiss.
Nat opened for him, tongue slick and enthusiastic. One hand kneaded Rafael’s butt and the other cupped his head, thumb caressing the shell of his ear.
Rough and gentle. Passion and tenderness. The mix sent Rafael’s head spinning. He shoved a hand inside Nat’s shirt to rest a palm between his shoulder blades. The skin there was hot and damp, Nat’s rib cage moving up and down, up and down, too fast, like he couldn’t catch his breath.
That made two of them.
Nat’s long fingers snuck down the back of Rafael’s jeans and in between his ass cheeks, almost brushing his hole. Rafael moaned. Shit, he was going to go off like a fucking bottle rocket right here in his living room if he didn’t slow things down a little.
Nat must’ve been a mind reader, because he pulled back enough to stare into Rafael’s eyes. “Let’s go to your bedroom while we still can. You got condoms and lube, right?”
“Yeah.” Rafael grinned. Lust-drunk and giddy, he linked his hand with Nat’s and pulled him around the kitchen counter into the short hallway leading to the bedroom. “I stocked up.”
Nat’s laughter said he felt as excited, nervous, and needy as Rafael did. “So you’re planning on keeping me here awhile.”