The Rock Star and the Wolf (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by JC Holly

  “I should thank you,” Harlan said.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Fighting really gets me going. Soon as I’m done here I’m going to fuck my boyfriend’s brains out.”

  The man sneered. “The rockstar likes it in the ass, eh? Wonder how much the papers would pay to hear that.”

  Harlan snarled at the man. “You’ll never find out.”

  “Oh?” The man laughed. “You can’t even hit me.”

  That was true. The man made Bruce Lee look like a geriatric. He came in again, this time scoring two more hits, one of which almost laid Harlan low. He put a hand to his stomach and ducked slightly, the pain making him double. Or so he wanted the man to think.

  “This is what happens when a pro boxer becomes a wolf,” the man said, his arms wide and a smile on his face.

  He came in again, and again Harlan took hits that threatened to knock him to the floor. He held his ground, though, and waited.

  “Tell me,” the man said. “What were you before you were turned? I can’t believe the so-called Ancients would hire someone so weak.”

  He lunged forward with his right with a blow clearly aimed to end the fight. Harlan straightened and caught the fist in his hand.

  “Gotcha.”

  The man’s eyes widened and he pulled back, struggling to free himself. Harlan kept hold, following the grab with a swift kick to the man’s stomach. He crumpled to the dirt, gasping.

  “That’s the problem with you speedy fighters,” Harlan said as he kicked the man onto his back. “You can’t take a punch.” The man struggled underneath Harlan’s boot, but he wasn’t going anywhere. “Talk.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Harlan rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you listening? I’m the one who does the fucking.” He willed a blade into each hand. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  “Why not? That’s what you do, isn’t it?” The man spat on Harlan’s boot. “The Ancients’ judge, jury, and executioner.”

  “Only for those who deserve it.”

  “And what, precisely, is the criteria?”

  “Murder, or close to it.” Harlan leaned in. “And I’m aware that you’re keeping me talking in the hopes that your fat friend will rescue you.” He held up a knife and let it fall. It hit the dirt blade first and sank in several inches. “Given that all I have to do is let go of the other one, how confident are you that they can get here in time?”

  The man gave him a look of absolute hatred. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  Harlan smiled. “There’s a good dog. Let’s chat.”

  * * * *

  Mitch couldn’t focus on the band meeting. Even if Harlan wasn’t off risking life and limb at that moment, there was still the matter of the first shift. His mind was churning with so many thoughts, questions, possibilities. When could he shift again? How much less would it hurt? When could he go for a run with Harlan?

  “Hey, Mitch?” Carr snapped his fingers in front of Mitch’s face. “You here?”

  “Sorry.” Mitch glanced at the men sat around his kitchen table. “Got a lot on my plate right now.”

  Carr frowned. “Is it this Harlan guy? He fucking you around? Because if he is we’ll kick the shit out of him.”

  The guys all nodded their agreement. Not even if he was asleep at the time. Mitch shook his head and took a generous swig of his beer.

  “Nah, Harlan’s great. Couldn’t ask for a better guy.”

  “Then what’s up, man?” Theo asked. “Not like you to keep things to yourself.”

  “It’s nothing to worry about. Honest. Just tax shit,” Mitch lied.

  “Ahh, say no more. If you need a new accountant mine kicks ass.”

  The conversation swung back to the new album, and what kind of theme, if any, they were aiming for this time. Mitch ignored them and let his mind wander again. Harlan was out on the hunt for two shifters who were connected to a now deceased vicious murderer. It really put things in perspective.

  “So where is Harlan?” Carr asked, sometime later. “He gone out?”

  “Yeah, he had an errand to run. Should be back soon.”

  “Back already.”

  Mitch looked up to find Harlan walking into the kitchen, a smile on his face and a large bruise on his jaw. Blood had dried on his knuckles, too. It wasn’t all his, Mitch’s nose told him.

  “Jeez, what the hell happened to you?” Theo asked. “Some errand.”

  Harlan shrugged as he made his way to the sink. “Couple of guys tried to mug me on the way. They won’t try again.” He smirked. “I though LA was above such things.”

  “You could’ve texted,” Mitch said as he turned on the faucet. “I was worried.”

  “It all happened pretty suddenly. I got back as fast as I could.”

  “You sound like an old married couple,” Carr said with a laugh. “When you’re washed up let me take a look at you, Harlan.”

  “Are you flirting with me?” Harlan flicked his hair and batted his eyelashes. “I’m spoken for, you know.”

  Carr just shook his head. “Shut up and sit down when you’re clean.”

  “He gets serious when health is involved,” Mitch said. “It’s the doctor blood in him.”

  Harlan merely shrugged, then finished washing up and took a seat while Carr did his thing. Mitch hoped that Harlan’s bruises wouldn’t heal up while he was being inspected. That would take more than a little explaining, especially to an ex-doctor.

  From Harlan’s posture, it appeared that whatever had happened had gone well enough, but the man’s expression said otherwise. Mitch would have to grill him once they were alone. That could be a while, though, since the meeting hadn’t gotten very far. He’d have to try and hurry it along, he decided.

  After a close inspection, Carr straightened and sat back on his own stool. “Eh, you’re fine. You must have a thick skull.”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” Harlan said. “I’ve had worse, and I heal quick. It’s no big deal.”

  “Did you want to file a police report?”

  He shook his head. “Given the beating I gave ’em, they won’t be in any hurry to reoffend.”

  Carr just laughed. “You’re tougher than you look, man. Ever considered becoming a bouncer for a rock band? You wouldn’t believe how rowdy the fans get some nights.”

  “Nah. I’m not one for confrontation normally.”

  Mitch tried hard not to laugh at that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  While Mitch finished up the meeting, Harlan headed upstairs to shower.

  The fight had left him with a few answers, but not enough. All he’d managed to find out was that the pack were holed up in an old motel a few miles out of town, and that there were at least a dozen shifters. He’d tried to get more information, but apparently someone had seen them fighting and called the police. Harlan had knocked the guy out and headed back to Mitch’s place, taking an alternate route through the trees and keeping an eye out for pursuit.

  Such situations almost always ended in one of two ways. Either the alpha would eventually back down, or Harlan would have to challenge them on the understanding that if he won, they’d leave him the hell alone. It was risky, even for a shifter as skilled as he was, but it worked. Given the aggression of Brubeck’s pack, the latter would be the outcome.

  If Harlan was honest, he welcomed it. A big fight, and it’d be all over and done with. No alpha in their right mind would welch on an agreement made before a fight. There was no real harm in losing a fight, but when an alpha lost their honor, their pack soon followed.

  After a few minutes he heard the scrape of stools, followed by footsteps and the opening of a door. He shut off the shower, dried, and headed into the bedroom as the growl of several expensive engines signaled the departing of the other members of The Twisted Nails. He sat on the bed, wrapped only in a towel, and waited.

  Mitch stepped into the room soon after and came straight over, hugging Harlan tightly. “I’m glad you came back
in one piece.”

  “So am I. I didn’t get much information, but now they know I’m aware of their presence, hopefully they’ll be warier about coming close.”

  He didn’t really believe that, but it was a reassuring thing to say. Mitch seemed to appreciate it, too. He broke the hug and sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for Harlan to do the same.

  “Tell me everything that happened.”

  Harlan did, leaving nothing out and watching Mitch’s expression carefully. This was Harlan’s life, after all, and if Mitch couldn’t accept the nature of it, it was better to know early.

  Thankfully Mitch agreed with his methods of extracting information from the man in the parking lot.

  “It’s not like he’d have told you anything if you just asked politely.”

  “Indeed,” Harlan replied, relieved. “The question is what happens now?”

  Mitch nodded. “I’m guessing they’ll retaliate at some point. They’ll want to stay under the radar, though, so I doubt they’ll assail the house.”

  “More likely that they’ll back off, at least for a few days while they think about how best to deal with me.”

  “So tomorrow isn’t a good day for a run in the hills, then.”

  “Unfortunately.” Harlan patted Mitch on the thigh. “As much as I want to, it’ll have to wait for a little while.”

  “I know. It’s okay. It’s more important to me that you stay alive.”

  Harlan answered Mitch with a kiss, which left Mitch smirking.

  “Should I assume the position, teacher?”

  Harlan shook his head as he brushed his fingers over Mitch’s cheek. “No teacher this time.”

  As hungry as Harlan was, this time was different. He wanted Mitch, but he wanted him completely. He wanted to caress every part of the man, to make love him to him, not just fuck him.

  Mitch’s smirk disappeared, to be replaced by a wide smile as understanding dawned. He pulled Harlan back into a kiss, this time deeper, his tongue probing Harlan’s mouth, only to be met by Harlan’s own. For the longest time they held the same position, their hands following the lines of their partner’s body while they kissed.

  Harlan broke first, pushing Mitch back gently so he could remove the man’s shirt, one button at a time, revealing the man’s taut and flawless skin. He pushed the shirt back off Mitch’s shoulders, then off completely, throwing it to the floor.

  Mitch glanced down at Harlan’s towel. “Pity you don’t have much for me to pull off.”

  “Want me to put something on?”

  Mitch laughed and tugged at the tuck on the towel, the pulled it open. “Mercy.”

  Harlan only smiled as he reached for Mitch’s pants, pulling them to the ground, along with his boxers.

  “You mean a lot to me, you know,” he said as Mitch scooted back onto the bed and lay down. “A lot. I, uh, I don’t fight people in parking lots for just anyone.”

  “Better not,” Mitch said with a grin, though his eyes showed more than just amusement. “And I think a lot of you, too.”

  Harlan climbed onto the bed beside his lover and kissed him softly on the neck. Mitch sighed softly as Harlan began to work his way down, kissing and caressing every inch of flesh he encountered. As he reached a nipple, he took it gently between his teeth, then sucked softly before pulling away and continuing down.

  His right hand moved faster than his mouth and soon found the tangle of pubic hair just above Mitch’s cock. He felt the man’s stomach tense for a moment as he brushed the top of his hard cock. He slid down a little further and grasped Mitch’s shaft, then began to stroke him.

  Harlan moved lower, kissing his way down until his lips met Mitch’s cockhead. Mitch stiffened again as Harlan took him into his mouth. Matching the speed of his slow strokes, he began to bob his head, sucking softly.

  “This, I hadn’t expected,” Mitch said, his breath halting.

  Harlan would have smirked if he could. That was one of the reasons he’d decided to do it. That, and he just couldn’t resist.

  As he sucked, he shifted his hand from Mitch’s shaft and slid it down between his legs, and under. Pushing past cheeks, he found Mitch’s tight asshole and began to rub around the hot ring of muscle. Mitch squirmed in response, the blanket shifting as it bunched in his tightening fists.

  With a little pressure, Harlan pushed into Mitch’s ass and began to slip his finger back and forth as he sucked. His lover only gasped in reply, his breathing heavier now. Harlan pushed his head further down on the thick cock, relishing the feel of the hot flesh sliding on his tongue and pushing against the back of his throat. It had been a long time since he’d given a blow job, but it all came back soon enough. He relaxed his throat and slowly took the entire length, until his nose brushed against Mitch’s stomach.

  “Fuck,” Mitch said, his voice strained. “If you keep that up, I won’t be able to hold on much longer.”

  As much as Harlan wanted to bring Mitch to orgasm, he wanted to do it properly, and come simultaneously. Begrudgingly, he pulled away again, sliding off Mitch’s cock entirely, then took a breath.

  Mitch eyed him, amazed. “I never expected that from you.”

  “Why not?” Harlan said, as he teased Mitch’s cockhead with his fingers.

  “I just took you as the hard and fast top.”

  “Most of the time,” he admitted. “But when I like a guy, I like to show him just how much.”

  Mitch colored at that, and had to swallow before he replied. “Thank you. And I feel the same way.”

  Harlan shifted up the bed and kissed him on the lips, then moved to his ear and whispered, “Roll onto your side, then.”

  Mitch did as he was told instantly, turning so that he faced away.

  “Perfect.”

  Harlan ran a hand down Mitch’s side, his skin hot to the touch. Harlan let his hand trail all the way to the man’s hip, the palm of his hand on the pale skin of Mitch’s ass cheek. With his other hand, Harlan reached to the bedside table and took up the lube bottle, then turned his attention back to his partner.

  “Just relax,” he said, as he rubbed some lube onto the tip of his cock. “Let me do all the work.”

  He let out a slow breath to calm himself, then shifted closer to Mitch and pushed his cock between Mitch’s ass cheeks. Mitch moaned softly as Harlan found his asshole, then relaxed. Harlan pushed once and was inside him.

  Working slowly, he started with only the tip of his cock, moving it in and out, enjoying the sensation of penetration, then began to increase the depth, a little at a time. As told, Mitch stayed still while Harlan worked, not even stroking himself. Harlan leant over and did it for him, matching the speed of his own cock.

  “Don’t stop,” Mitch muttered.

  “Never.”

  In short order, Mitch had taken Harlan’s full length, and Harlan held the position for the longest time. He would never be closer to Mitch than he was at that moment, so he savored it for a little before pulling back and resuming his work.

  They stayed in the same position for the longest time. Neither wanted to rush things, and neither wanted to stop. Harlan kept his movements on Mitch’s cock just as slow, so as to draw out the man’s pleasure just as Harlan was drawing out his own.

  “You feel so good,” Harlan said.

  “And you feel so different,” Mitch said, his voice thready.

  “Better?”

  He shook his head, then reached back and grasped Harlan’s arm. “Just different. Both have their times.”

  Harlan smiled and kissed Mitch on the neck.

  Harlan lost track of time, but after what felt like an hour—though it was likely nowhere near—he began to build up the speed. Mitch made no complaints, only moaned softly as Harlan began to stroke his cock faster, too.

  He felt his need to end approach, and sped further, though not to the almost vicious speeds of last time. As Mitch had said, this was different. Mitch began to work, too, by pushing back and pulling forward to ext
end the strokes. Harlan’s breath began to become ragged, and he closed his eyes and buried his face in his lover’s neck as he thrust into him over and over.

  The tension began to build in his stomach and balls, and he sped further still. Mitch was close too, judging by his breathing, and soon the bed began to creak with their actions.

  “I’m coming,” Mitch said.

  The words spurred Harlan on, and he began to work Mitch fast as he slipped back and forth in his tight ass. When he could hold back no longer, he cried out and came, his cock pulsing as he pumped his load into Mitch. Mitch exploded a moment later, thick ropes of cum spurting from his cock and covering the bed.

  Finished, Harlan moved his arm to Mitch’s chest and pulled him close to him, and Mitch placed his hand over Harlan’s.

  “I love you.”

  Harlan gritted his jaw in an attempt to stop the words, but it was too late. All he could do now was wait in silence, and hope Mitch replied.

  “I love you too.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mitch practically danced out of the bedroom the next morning. He’d barely slept the previous night, thanks to Harlan’s sudden exclamation, but he felt like he was on top of the world anyway. Harlan loved him. Loved him. And Mitch had said it back.

  The time spent in the kitchen preparing coffee and breakfast was a blur of giddiness entirely unbecoming of a badass rockstar with a million screaming fans, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t remember being so happy.

  So of course it had to end quickly.

  By the time Harlan came downstairs, Mitch’s good cheer had disappeared, destroyed by a small white envelope placed in the center of the table. It had one word on it.

  Murderer.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harlan said, then froze, sniffing the air. “Perfume?”

  “I thought a cleaner had been through,” Mitch said, trying to steady the hand he held the envelope in. “Then I saw this.”

  Harlan frowned as he took the letter, then snarled as he read the writing. “Brubeck’s pack. They used the perfume to cover their scent.”