Doubly Protected [Werewolves of Hanson Mall 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Adams

  Maelor had reorganized all the security guard duty rosters. He now had an extra guard on duty during the hours the mall was open, eight ’til six. This person was stationed on the fourth level, watching both inside the mall, the fourth-floor parking lot, and the foyer of the professional suites. It was this guard Sophia or Persia was to call if anyone unknown to them entered the professional suites.

  “Even if they’re in UPS uniform. If it’s not someone personally known to you, always call the level four guard. Who knows if they might have some high-tech gadget that can override the elevator buttons or who-knows-what,” he said.

  The rest of the guards still worked under the old shift system—midnight until eight, eight to four, and four to midnight. It meant the level four guard had to work an extra two hours, but they did a lot less walking than on a regular shift, so he hoped it worked out all right. Anyway, he was mostly doing that job himself, although Dakota would take some turns on it, too. He wanted someone up there he could trust, and Dakota was his best staff member even though she wasn’t a werewolf shape-shifter.

  Cadfael had agreed he, Dylan, and Hawthorne could turn Dylan’s and Rhion’s apartments into a single apartment, and they were busy working out what they wanted to make of it. They were all happy with the plan to make the kitchen bigger so they could fully cater for themselves if they wanted to. And he was determined to find a way to make the bathroom bigger as well. At the moment, when all three of them were in there, they could hardly move.

  One possibility was to remove the toilet and the tub in Dylan’s apartment and replace them with a much bigger shower. There would still be a sink, tub with a shower, and a toilet in Rhion’s former apartment, so it wasn’t as if they’d be missing out, but it would provide them with more space. But on the other hand maybe two toilets would be a good thing.

  Hawthorne had also mentioned purchasing their own washer and drier. She said it would make life a lot easier and they did seem to create a lot of laundry between them.

  It was all just more things he should be thinking about. He wanted very much to plan and get his new life organized, but that wasn’t really possible while Jackson Hamilton was running around loose and trying to capture his woman.

  Maelor found himself sincerely wishing the man would come near him so he could bash him over the head like he’d done to Sophie, and then lock him in jail and throw away the key. It was just a damn fucking shame life wasn’t that simple.

  When he got back to Willow’s apartment that night he found Dylan sitting silently in front of the television and Hawthorne pacing around the living area.

  Panic burst through him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice level and quiet.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to wait until you were here before I asked.”

  “Asked what?”

  “Yeah that’s what I’ve been saying for the last half hour,” said Dylan, turning the television off.

  “I want to spend time with you in your wolf forms. I thought maybe we could go up onto the roof and run around there. I know you used to run up and down the stairwell but that doesn’t seem a whole lot of fun to me. But surely we’d be safe on the roof. There’s no other buildings as tall as this one so no one can watch us up there.”

  “Yes, we can do that. I don’t see a problem with that at all. It’s fair that you see us as wolves and get to know us in our other form,” said Maelor. He looked at Dylan hoping the other man agreed.

  “It’d been a while since I last changed. I’ll enjoy a bit of a run.”

  “When do you usually change, Dylan? I know Maelor used to run up and down the stairs as a wolf most nights.”

  “I never changed in any set pattern. Just when I felt like it. Sometimes on weekends I’d drive right out into the countryside and go for a long run, but it wasn’t on any kind of regular basis. Actually, it’ll be good to visit the roof again. Cadfael’s said a few times we ought to do something about it. Make proper use of all that space.”

  “Willow suggested a roof garden, so people could sit there to relax and enjoy the view. Maybe eat their lunch there on nice days, but Cadfael thought reprogramming the elevator might be too complicated,” said Hawthorne.

  “Well let’s go and look. We can think of ideas while we’re up there.” What Maelor didn’t say was that thinking about a roof garden would make a pleasant change from all the other things that had been occupying his mind lately.

  First they had to stop off at each man’s apartment so they could change into gym clothes so they didn’t have so many items to remove and put back on when they transformed, then they caught the elevator to the roof. Even a simple thing like changing clothes is so complicated at the moment. We really need to work out how to live together as soon as possible.

  Maelor thought it shouldn’t be too difficult to make the roof a destination that anyone with a professional suites swipe card could access. After all, every card made the lift go down to the fourth floor so there had to be some kind of code to do that.

  Up on the roof he stood back and let Hawthorne choose where they went. It wasn’t a particularly pretty place, although the view in every direction was truly amazing. “You’re right in that everyone should be able to see the view. It’s very special.”

  The rooftop area was quite large. Larger than he’d expected, but of course it covered an entire floor, taking up the space of all the offices, apartments, and hallways that would have been on each level.

  “We could make the roof garden near the elevator, so people didn’t have to walk too far. Maybe from the elevator to the two closest sides,” she said, waving her arms at the nearest corner of the roof. Maelor watched her, loving Hawthorne’s enthusiasm and zest for life and the way she so often used her hands and arms to emphasize her speech. Here she was thinking about everyone’s pleasure instead of focusing on her own needs and desires. She was truly lovely in personality as well as in physical form.

  “What about all the rest of the area? This is a surprisingly large space,” said Dylan.

  “Maybe we could make it something wolves would enjoy as well as humans. Like a bushwalk sort of track that wolves could run in or humans could walk. A dirt track between trees and grass.”

  “That might be too hard to grow. To grow grass on concrete might not be easy,” said Maelor. “But a sand or dirt track would be doable. And trees in pots would be no trouble at all. Maybe things to jump over as well.”

  “Oh, yes. Most wolves love to run and jump.” Dylan was smiling and nodding.

  Hawthorne went across to the railing and leaned her back against it. “Okay. Time for you to change and let me watch you be wolves. I want to see you being natural, doing whatever you’d do if I wasn’t here.”

  Maelor thought that likely he should have guessed Hawthorne would need to see them like this. A human joining with a couple of wolves was a huge step to take, and to do it without seeing them in their wolf form for more than a few moments wasn’t at all sensible. Trust his clever little human to have worked out the gap in her knowledge of them and found a way to fix the problem. He was determined to give her a true representation of himself as a wolf.

  Maelor stripped off his T-shirt and sweat pants, and kicked off his athletic shoes, then stretched until his spine popped and his arms were fully extended, the pressure on his shoulders tight. Then he moved away from Hawthorne and looked at her. She was watching him so he thought “wolf” and changed. He was a black wolf, which, with his coloring, wasn’t surprising. She might be a bit surprised at Dylan though. He waited for Dylan to join him.

  Dylan didn’t stop to turn toward Hawthorne. While he was still walking to the far side of the roof he transformed and kept walking. He was a gray wolf, not brown like his hair, and shorter and more muscular than one might have expected from his human form. Once he realized Dylan wasn’t going to stop and turn toward Hawthorne, Maelor ran after him and herded him around. Together they chased all over the roof, Maelor not running his f
astest and letting Dylan lead for a while, before he put on a spurt of speed and shepherded the smaller wolf back toward Hawthorne.

  She was sitting on the concrete now, watching them play, her face split wide with a smile. That was good. He was glad she wasn’t at all frightened.

  They both came to her and let her pet their fur, and scratch behind their ears. He lifted his chin up into her touch and reveled in her gentle hands and smooth petting strokes.

  When she stood up, he changed back into his human form, as did Dylan.

  “Thank you. It was wonderful to see you both as wolves.”

  “You weren’t frightened?” asked Dylan.

  “Oh no. I was never in any doubt as to who you were. And I could tell Maelor was letting you outrun him there for a while.”

  “You’re a damn perceptive woman, Hawthorne,” said Dylan.

  That was just what he was thinking. But what the fuck did Hamilton want with her? What had she noticed or perceived or understood that he didn’t want her to know?

  * * * *

  Hawthorne was ready to go to bed with these men again. She’d reached the stage where sleeping with them almost every night was very important to her. The constant moving from apartment to apartment was a nuisance, and she found herself agreeing with their plans to renovate Rhion’s and Dylan’s apartments even when she was still pretending she hadn’t decided to commit to being with them.

  It wasn’t just that her sister was very happily mated to Cadfael and Rhion and likely to stay here. It also wasn’t that she found herself completely drawn into the genetic study of the werewolves. Even if neither of those two factors had existed she’d still be agreeing to mate with Maelor and Dylan and move into an apartment with them. They were two very different people and that was important to her. She liked that they thought and spoke independently of each other. But she also liked that so often their decisions were identical. Variety was great. Endless arguments might not have been so positive.

  Her body craved their touch. Maelor’s bigger, rougher, more possessive hands that nevertheless held her safe and told her far more clearly than any words ever could say that he’d protect and care for her, even if she was perfectly capable of looking after herself.

  Dylan’s gentle care and thoughtful provision for her. He was the one who ran down to the stores after work, returning with things for them to cook and eat, or flowers, scented candles, the latest movie to watch, or other fun things to do.

  She was protected, cared for, treasured, and valued. Her life felt worthwhile, and she wanted to show these men how much they meant to her. Mating them was absolutely in her future, and meanwhile spending the nights wrapped in their arms was bliss. Even if they really did need a bigger bed to share.

  Maelor led them back to his room, and when they were all in his bedroom he opened the nightstand and pulled out a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. Hawthorne’s knees went weak and her cunt dripped cream when he said, “Dylan, tonight it’s time to demonstrate to our woman that we can take care of her needs even when she does nothing.”

  “I like that idea. In particular, I like having her unable to derail our plans. Have you got a gag as well?”

  “A gag? Hey, that’s not fair. You both get to talk.”

  A football scarf was wrapped around her face and tied at the back of her head, before Hawthorne could even mention that red really wasn’t her color. She wasn’t overly fond of that team either. Her sweater was pulled off and her jeans tugged down, her wrists cuffed and the handcuffs tied to the bedpost with another football scarf. How many football scarves did Maelor have? He’d never even mentioned football to her. Was he a fan or did he just have a lot of woolen scarves?

  If her mouth hadn’t been full of woolen fabric she’d have giggled when the men struggled to take her bra off with her hands locked together. In the end they left her bra dangling around her wrists. Not a perfect solution, but a workable one, she acknowledged.

  The two men moved much more smoothly to pull her panties off. Dylan raised them to his nose and breathed in deeply. She saw his chest swell as he filled his lungs with her feminine musk. She’d been creaming with desire for them both, and knew her aroma would be strong, but fortunately he seemed to like it. From the way his cock leaped and grew, he more than liked her scent. When he followed that up by sucking the crotch of her underwear into his mouth, she almost came on the spot. Momma Mia, that was so damn carnal. She’d never ever imagined a man would do that with her panties.

  She hadn’t noticed when they’d taken their own clothes off, but with them both wearing only sweat pants and T-shirts, it evidently hadn’t taken them long, and they were both naked now.

  She wished she could lick her lips and suck their cocks. They looked so delicious standing there, their cocks as stiff and straight as soldiers on parade. Or flagpoles. Oh yes, she wouldn’t mind saluting them with her mouth and tongue right now. Except her mouth was full of football scarf instead of cock.

  Hawthorne wiggled on the bed. She was ready for some action but Dylan and Maelor seemed more interested in watching her. She was certain they had to know how very aroused she was. Being wolves, no doubt they could smell the cream on her inner thighs and her pussy lips. But she wasn’t sure how else to tell them to get a move on. She was ready for the main event. For fuck’s sake, what were they waiting for?

  Maelor sat on one corner of the end of the bed and Dylan on the other. Maelor picked up her foot and said, “Are you ticklish, Hawthorne? If I do this, what will you do?”

  He tickled the arch and she tried to pull her foot out of his hand, but although he held it lightly, he didn’t let go.

  “Well, well, well, so you are ticklish. I think we might have some fun in that case.”

  He stroked the sole of her foot and then the sides, petting every inch carefully, before moving up to the toes. She’d relaxed and was enjoying his touch when he tickled her again, this time extending his teasing up the back of her leg to the underside of her knee.

  Maelor bent and began kissing her knee as Dylan tickled her other foot. Before long she was wiggling madly, trying to pull her legs away from two fiends determined to tease her to death.

  Behind her gag she giggled and laughed, trying to drag more air into her lungs and only getting a mouthful of wooly fluff. And still they tickled her feet and legs. She had to admit it was sexy though. Her pussy was wet with desire, and when Dylan sucked a toe and treated it as if it were nipple, the heady eroticism almost caused her to come right then and there.

  Finally Dylan pulled the gag off her mouth. She coughed and breathed heavily, but before she could say anything he rested his cock against her lips. Hell yes, she was ready to suck him. She loved his rich, spicy flavor. But she loved Maelor’s taste just as much. Again, they were very different and that just made oral sex even better in her mind.

  She licked all around Dylan’s cockhead before taking him into her mouth and sucking him deep. But before she had a real chance to relax and enjoy his cock, she was startled out of her reverie by both men sucking her toes. Her legs were bent in crazy directions right now and Maelor had one hand stroking her pussy lips as well. Flat on her back like this, her arms still locked into the fluffy pink handcuffs, she couldn’t lift her upper body enough to see exactly what was happening, but her toes, feet, legs, and cunt were all highly aroused by the men’s touch.

  Hawthorne decided to concentrate on her own task, bringing Dylan to a screaming orgasm. It would have been easier if she could hold his balls, but her mouth was working fine. She bent her head and licked down the side of his shaft until she reached his balls and sucked first one, then the other one, into her mouth. Careful not to bite him, she used her lips to roll his testicles, loving their slightly different taste from the rest of him.

  Pushing her tongue flat, she then licked a long line up his erection to his head, and gently scraped her teeth over the mushroom crown, aiming to tease and tantalize but not hurt.

  Only then did she take th
e head into her mouth, hollow her cheeks, and suck hard. She was rewarded with a burst of his essence. It’s good to know I haven’t lost my skill.

  But before she could do anything more, Maelor licked along her pussy lips and sucked her clit, giving a sharp little bite to it after he’d sucked hard. Damn. He hasn’t lost his touch either.

  This was going to be a race to see who could bring their target to orgasm before succumbing themselves. Hawthorne concentrated on pleasing Dylan, licking, sucking, nibbling, teasing, and using every skill she had. His cock was enormous, the head red and his pre-cum bursting into her mouth all the time, now, but he also had very good control and she didn’t have her hands to help her make him lose it.

  Besides, Maelor was devilishly clever in the way he fucked her with his tongue, nibbled along her labia, sucked her clit, and painted wet patches on her body then puffed hot air on them to drive her arousal ever higher.

  Dylan moved closer to her, and she dropped her head a little lower, now able to take more of him into her mouth. She concentrated on swallowing as much of him as she could manage, then biting lightly at the loose skin on the side of his erection, only to repeat the process again. After a few times, she focused on the sensitive ridge where his head and shaft joined. She tickled along it with the tip of her tongue, then pushed her tongue into the slit of his cock to catch all his pre-cum.

  Her own orgasm was building higher and it was very hard to keep her mind on Dylan. Everything Maelor did, every place he touched, was alight with nervous tension and the blazing need for her to come. When he sucked her clit hard and twisted three fingers deep in her cunt, scraping over her G-spot, Hawthorne gasped, only prevented from screaming because she knew the neighbors would hear. That and the hot cock completely filling her mouth.

  The orgasm she’d been holding at bay exploded through her body, and within seconds her mouth filled with the hot cum spurting from Dylan’s cock. With delight she saw Maelor lean over her, his hand pumping his own cock as he spurted his essence onto her belly.