by Laura Taylor
“True,” Leon said, in a tone that implied he didn’t agree with her in the slightest. “But these days, it’s absolutely remarkable what you can order online. So if you were trying to disguise your existence from the rest of the world, wouldn’t you just order anything you needed and get it shipped to you in neat little cardboard packages?”
Melissa glared at him. “I find it really annoying how often you’re right,” she said, wry humour leaking through her irritation, and Leon couldn’t help but grin.
“I’m told that’s why they sent me here. Do your job well and apparently, people start to notice. And then you get told to pack up your things, get sent to another country, and get a fifty thousand Euro pay rise. Bothersome stuff, all that extra money. Oh, but it’s pounds here, isn’t it. Sorry.”
Melissa dismissed his slip with a wave of her hand. “We’re talking about people who regularly recruit new members. They bribe police officers. Our operatives run into them on the streets often enough. They have to be going out in public sometime. And when they do, people have to see them.”
“Maybe the locals are protecting them?”
Melissa looked aghast. “You’re saying the Lakes District is full of shifter-sympathisers? Bloody hell, what is the world coming to?”
“No, no,” Leon clarified hastily. “I’m not saying they’re protecting the shifters. In all likelihood, they know nothing about any of that. I’m saying maybe they’re protecting their friends. Colleagues. Customers. If you’ve got someone who makes large orders and pays cash on a regular basis, it’s bad for business to turn them in to the police.”
Melissa scowled. “And there’s you being right again. Fine, well… keep at it,” she said dismissively, standing up and heading for the door. “I’m going to see Evans in the lab. Hopefully someone in this damned base has discovered something useful today.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was just after 10pm when Baron arrived at the kitchen, exhausted after a day that had seemed to refuse to end. After Sven’s startling request that morning, all manner of chaos had broken out.
A brief but intense conference had been held, following which all three males had been swiftly removed from Sempre’s camp, and Baron, Tank and that Grey Watch male, Kajus, whose question had started the whole mess, had got together to gently and peacefully question the three of them on their preferred way forward from here. The men had been granted full asylum from Sempre’s pack, and even from the Grey Watch if they wanted it, with Eleanor assuring them that Il Trosa would willingly take them in if required. While the men had been too bewildered at the time to make any firm decisions, Baron was confident that in the end, none of them would choose to go back to Sempre.
Sempre had thrown a fit about it, not just because it undermined her authority, but because the absence of any males meant that her pack was completely unable to convert new females.
“Deal with it,” had been Linnea’s sharp reply, and a hasty vote on the subject by the rest of the Grey Watch had quickly overruled Sempre’s objections.
Finally, every concern and argument had been dealt with, and now the Panel had retired for the evening. The three males were curled up in one of the bedrooms to get a good night’s rest – all three of them sharing a room by their own request – and Kwan and Alistair were both on hand to see to them if they needed anything, the pair of them sleeping in wolf form in the hallway outside the men’s bedroom.
While dinner had been served to the rest of the Den, Baron hadn’t had time to eat in the midst of all the chaos, but when he arrived at the kitchen, he found his appetite to be non-existent. Nonetheless, he was still too restless to go to bed, and he remembered that George had stowed a coveted bottle of whiskey in the pantry. But only two steps into the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks as he realised he wasn’t alone.
“Long night?” Kajus asked, standing at the sink and filling a glass with water. He lifted the glass and drained it in one go without waiting for a reply, and Baron simply stood there dumbly for a moment, his thoughts a sudden swirl of chaotic emotions. He felt uneasy around this man, had done so since he’d first arrived at the estate, and having to spend a good part of the day with him had done little to ease Baron’s growing tension about him.
“That it is,” he said, a belated response to Kajus’s comment as he forced himself to move, retrieving the whiskey bottle from the pantry and a glass from the cupboard. He sloshed a generous portion into the glass.
Kajus constantly seemed to come from two different directions, he told himself, as he drained half the liquid, then refilled it. He was irreverent, yet sympathetic. He was callous, yet diplomatic. He was quick to express his displeasure and equally quick to forgive a slight when an apology was made. He was unreliable, Baron told himself, watching as Kajus refilled his own glass with water and drained it once again, knowing that that wasn’t all there was to the issue. There was something else about Kajus, something that Baron couldn’t quite place, something that left him feeling self-conscious and vaguely apprehensive. Which made him more inclined to get some alcohol into his system, to distract him from that odd, off-balance feeling.
“So when do we get to the point where you actually stop working for five minutes?” Kajus asked, leaning a hip against the bench.
Baron very deliberately put the cap back on the bottle and replaced it in the pantry. Drinking on an empty stomach was going to make it go straight to his head. Only once he’d shut the pantry door did he reply to the question. “When the world stops trying to shit all over me and I can go to sleep without worrying I’m going to wake up and find that two people on my estate are trying to strangle each other.”
Kajus laughed at that. “And you’re going to deal with that by drowning yourself in a bottle?” he asked. Baron scowled at him.
“Why not? You got some objection to alcohol?” Being from the Grey Watch, it was certainly possible. With their nature worship and all that shit, goodness knows what subtle cultural values Baron was stomping all over.
“On the contrary. I think it’s a good idea now and then to take some time out. Relax. Lower one’s… inhibitions.”
Kajus ran a thumb over his own lower lip, an idle gesture that shouldn’t have generated any undue attention. But there was an odd glint in his eyes, an expression that reminded Baron of… other things… And then Kajus deliberately licked the edge of his glass, where a stray drop of water was trying to escape, his tongue lingering on the smooth surface.
Was he…? Baron blinked, uncertain as to how to respond to the odd gesture. If he didn’t know better, he would have almost thought Kajus was… flirting with him? But he couldn’t be. He was…
Like a freight train, it suddenly hit Baron why he felt so damned uncomfortable around the man. Fucking hell, he was attracted to him. Seriously, heart-poundingly, balls-achingly attracted to him. It was so different from what he’d felt with John that it was like a slap in the face. Kajus would be nothing like his temperamental young lover. Kajus was decisive. Irreverent. Cunning. Strong. Baron wouldn’t have to worry at all about overstepping his bounds or taking advantage of him…
His breathing had quickened already, his jeans feeling tighter across the groin, and some desperate part of his mind told him to tread carefully, to not do anything rash. He’d had a fair dose of whiskey in one go, and it was already hitting his blood stream. Which, combined with a thousand stresses and worries of the past few days was making it all too tempting to give in to the heady demand that he just let go for once, just let someone else make the decisions and do something reckless for the first time in what seemed like forever. It was a bad idea, the last rational part of his mind insisted. He should just turn around now and head out the door, go back to his room and spend the evening alone…
Baron braced himself against the bathroom wall, gripping the towel rail to keep his balance. Kajus was behind him, groin nestled against Baron’s buttocks, his harsh breathing and occasional moans coming in time with the thrusts of hi
s hips. Baron was bent over, his legs spread, in a position he’d never been in with another man before. But a smirk, and a quirk of the eyebrow, and a few illicit comments from Kajus had made it sound like the most enticing idea, and not five minutes after they’d left the kitchen, Baron had found himself naked as the day he was born, torn between urging Kajus to go faster and simultaneously slower, as the whiskey pulsed through his veins and he embraced the way the world was turning fuzzy at the edges.
It took only a few minutes for the pleasure to spiral out of control, Baron spilling himself against the white tiles. Kajus took a little longer, while Baron waited impatiently for him to finish. When he had, Baron wasted no time in squirming out of his hold, not liking the lingering feeling of fullness and not entirely sure what he was feeling, from an emotional perspective. He felt a soothing hand run down his back, and he stepped away, trying to make it look natural.
“Do you want a shower?” he offered, starting the water. He wanted one himself, whatever Kajus’s opinion on the matter was.
But as ever, the man refused to play the neat role that Baron was trying to assign to him. “Is it because you’re an alpha, or because I’m not John?” he asked, not moving from his place by the wall.
Baron shook his head. “Is what because I’m an alpha?”
“The fact that you can’t quite look me in the eye.”
The statement was so unexpected that Baron inadvertently did exactly that, staring into eyes that were as green as the forest and as bottomless as the ocean. “How do you know about John?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Go on, hop in,” Kajus interrupted himself, pointing to the shower, and, not knowing what else to do, Baron did. The stall was large, and Kajus stepped in behind him without being asked, quickly wetting himself down and squirting a dollop of shower gel into his hand. “It’s plain as day that he’s in love with you. I assume there’s been a disagreement of some sort?”
Baron snorted, getting over his surprise quickly. “John’s not in love with me,” he said darkly. “Not any more.” He took the shower gel from Kajus and began washing himself. “Yes, there was an argument, and I’m pretty sure he hates me as a result of it.”
“Maybe. But consider this: if he didn’t care about you, you wouldn’t have had the power to hurt him.”
“Who says I’m the one who hurt him?” Baron asked, feeling a niggling need to defend himself.
“You’re an alpha,” Kajus said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “How else is that going to play out?” Baron looked away, cursing the man for his keen observation. “Which, by the way,” Kajus went on, “is not a reason why you’re not allowed to be the one to bend over.”
Baron spun around and gaped at him. And then looked away again quickly. The truth was, John was the only man he’d ever slept with, and he’d never been on the receiving end of things. And while it had been physically blissful, Baron was still struggling to get his mind around what had just happened. Kajus’s original question had hit the nail on the head. Baron honestly didn’t know whether it was because he thought he should be feeling guilty over John – albeit that they’d broken up weeks ago – or because…
“Stop thinking like a wolf, and let yourself be a human for once,” Kajus said to him, his voice disturbingly close to Baron’s ear. He felt a warm hand run over his torso, washing the soap away, then lingering longer than was strictly necessary. “Your wolf may think it needs to be dominant, but none of us ever have sex in wolf form. As a human, there’s nothing shameful about finding pleasure wherever it can be found.” He smirked, then shut off the water, both of them stepping out of the shower stall. “But I will say this,” he said, reaching for a towel and handing one to Baron. “Don’t give up on John just yet. Assuming you actually want him back, that is,” he added, glancing sideways at Baron.
Baron began drying off, perhaps a touch more vigorously than required. “I’m not holding my breath,” he replied, aiming for a tone of carelessness. “One of John’s more refined skills is knowing how to hold a grudge. Believe me, I’ve seen him do it before.”
Kajus shrugged, not dismissing his claim, but not agreeing with it either. “Just keep an open mind,” he said mildly. “Life has a way of surprising even the best of us. Now, as far as this little interlude goes-”
“I’d prefer it if the rest of the Den didn’t know any more about this than they already do,” Baron said, a gruff edge to his voice. “I’m not… This isn’t the usual…”
“I get it,” Kajus said, stepping into his trousers. “This was a one-time thing.” He cheekily pecked Baron on the lips, then reached for his shirt. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Lying half naked in his bed, Tank let his head fall back on the pillow, tugging the fly of his jeans open wider and gasping for air.
“Oh, God, yes… please…” The plea for more contradicted his comment to Genna only thirty seconds ago that she didn’t have to do what she was now very enthusiastically doing, and he sent a silent ‘thank you’ to Sirius that she was turning out to be every bit as strong willed as he was. She’d pushed him back on the bed, kissed him on the lips and told him “I want to.”
Moist heat engulfed his cock, suction, a slow rhythm up and down, and he reached down to stroke her hair as she pleasured him. He was going to have to repay the favour later, he told himself, but for now, his brain was struggling to think of anything much past the throbbing in his groin.
That first night, after their heartfelt discussion in the garden, they’d ended up back in Tank’s bedroom, finding it hard to keep their hands off each other. Tank hadn’t expected it to go much further than that, certainly not to the point that either of them started removing any clothes. And then, out of nowhere, Genna had shyly informed him that she’d never slept with any of the males in her pack.
“Why not,” he asked, not so much because he thought she should have, but because he had rather assumed it was simply an accepted part of their culture.
“A lot of reasons,” she replied, seeming embarrassed by the question, though she herself had just brought the subject up. “Some of it was pure logistics. I was low ranking and didn’t have much opportunity. But as time went on, I started thinking about Sven. He was…” She stopped and turned bright red. “He was the one at my conversion,” she continued a moment later, then added firmly, “It wasn’t his fault!” which made Tank realise he’d raised his upper lip in a silent snarl. “And that’s the point. He was as much a victim as I was. He had no choice about being there and doing what he did. And that got me thinking. Because if I went and slept with him in the camp, then he might say yes, but how would I ever really know what he wanted? And I didn’t like that. So I never… you know.”
Tank found his respect for her rising up another notch. And then he just about had a heart attack when she sat up, straddled him where he sat on the bed and removed her t-shirt. “I’m guessing I don’t have to worry about that with you,” she said huskily. “About whether or not you really want to be here.” She leaned down to kiss him, then pulled back with a sudden, telling shyness. “Do you want to be here?” she asked, with far less confidence than her actions implied.
“Absolutely,” he replied, his erection already trying to punch a hole in his jeans, and he wrapped his arms around her, revelling in her smooth skin and the wild, musky scent of her body. “Do you? Because I’m not expecting anything if you don’t want to…”
“Yes,” she said, then she ran her eyes over him in a way that made him feel like the sexiest man alive. “Yes.”
Back in the present, Tank felt his hips roll upwards involuntarily and gently guided Genna’s mouth away from his groin. It took him a few tries to form words, appreciative groans making up for the lack. “Maybe you should take a break for a minute,” he suggested, to her coy amusement.
“I like watching you enjoy yourself,” she murmured, as she slid up his body to kiss him. Her hand had found him again and was moving in slow, seductive
strokes that had no trouble at all keeping him inflamed. Her confidence was one of the most alluring things about her, the idea that she knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to say so. If anything, Tank had been the more cautious one, asking if she was comfortable, if she wanted to continue, if she had a preferred position or if there was anything she would rather he didn’t do.
Following her lead, he flipped her over and pressed her back on the bed, encouraging her to lift her hips when he tried to remove her underpants, and then he spent several long minutes listening to the captivating sounds of his woman quite thoroughly enjoying herself as he returned the gift she had given him.
His woman. His she-wolf. His… mate? Did he dare hope for such a thing, with the world so uncertain all around them?
Finally, she was tugging his shoulders upwards, and he went willingly. “I want you inside me,” she whispered to him, and Tank felt his groin surge at the words. He was a big man; she seemed almost ethereally frail beneath him, but he’d already found out she was stronger than she looked. He groaned as he pressed inside her, tight heat making him feel like a randy teenager again. She cried out her pleasure a few minutes later, and then Tank buried his head in her shoulder, arms wrapped around her, and thrust himself home again and again, inhaling the captivating scent of her skin, one hand on her hip to steady her as his hips rocked forward each time, not stopping until his own body was shaking with pleasure and he was crying out against her skin, feeling her hands stroking his hair, his shoulders, a kiss pressed to the top of his head as he caught his breath.
He lifted himself onto his elbows, breathing hard. “Wow. Genna, I…”
She was crying. He lurched backwards, inadvertently pulling himself out of her more roughly than he’d intended.
“Fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t… Did I hurt you?”