“Think of yourself as strong. Pretend, and eventually, you’ll be,” Caleb said softly.
Liam couldn’t make sense of his words. The quick drive took them to the residential area. Sweet Creek was tiny, smaller even than Trinity Valley.
Caleb must have called the Fosters, the folks taking Liam in, early. As Caleb parked the car by the sidewalk, the door opened. When they got out, the shifter gay couple smiled kindly at Liam, although it was strained.
The adults exchanged words. Gary Foster told Liam to head on in to stay warm, but Liam remained by Caleb’s side, eventually linking his hand with Caleb’s. Caleb didn’t let go or yell at him.
“That’s it. You have my cell. Call me if something happens to Liam,” Caleb said, signaling the end of their conversation. “Could you give us a moment?”
Gary and Kyle Foster retreated inside. Caleb gently let of Liam’s hand and kneeled so they were at the same eye-level.
“Remember what I said, runt? No tears.”
Liam sniffed, and then rubbed furiously at the tears gathering at his lids. “When will you come back for me?”
Caleb shocked him again by bringing him close to his warm chest before kissing his forehead. “Soon,” Caleb promised.
Soon turned out to be ten years.
Chapter One
Present
Charlie Foster finished off his set with a final twirl around the pole onstage. The crowd went wild as the music died. Since Charlie’s leather thong was stuffed full of bills, he scooped up the remaining twenties tossed near the pole before strutting backstage.
He passed by Mark, his roommate and best friend. Dressed in his favorite fireman’s outfit, Mark was ready to go next. “Sounds like a great crowd.”
“Not a bad sweep. A couple of seedy characters hanging by the bar,” Charlie admitted. “Good luck out there, bro.”
Once in the tiny dressing room, Charlie shrugged on a robe. He lit a stick while he counted the bills. Charlie’s fingers trembled with the simple gesture. Although he’d been clean for years, he felt anxious and jittery. God, would he kill for a fix. Charlie hadn’t had a craving for so long, but he supposed anyone in their right mind would go crazy, especially after seeing a ghost from the past. Under the lights, the only accessory he bothered to wear over the years gleamed gold, taunting him.
Around him, other male dancers bitched and bickered. Usually, Charlie would join in because the boys at the Tight Asses strip club have been his family for nearly two years.
Charlie began stripping to pay for his college tuition and bills, but he figured he’d make more taking off clothes than being stuck in a dead-end office job. Working here also had its perks. Some customers asked for extra services, but, for Charlie, it was all in good fun, especially since they played by his rules. Charlie also told his manager Leslie, a fierce scarred werebear, that he got to pick his customers.
Speaking of their manager, Leslie poked his head into the room. “Charlie, a customer wants a private dance.”
Charlie expected the request after spotting the stranger completely cloaked in shadows at the back. He took deep breaths.
I’m no longer the scared little runt who couldn’t defend himself. I’m a fucking grown-up.
“So, who’s the asshole, Les? You know my rules. I don’t do strangers.”
Leslie paused, looking deep in thought. Leslie Meyers might be a business-minded greedy bastard, but he took care of all his boys. Something had scared Leslie, and not a lot of things could do that to the former MMA fighter.
“I can ask security to escort this shifter out, but I can tell he came here looking for a fight. Discrete won’t work with this kind of fucker.”
“So you’re afraid he’ll scare off the other customers?” Charlie asked sarcastically.
How predictable.
He knew Leslie meant well, but maybe the cowardly part of him couldn’t face the past. Old habits were hard to break. Charlie began twisting the band around his ring finger, and then stopped.
“All I need you to do is talk to him, Charlie. We’ll post guards outside the private room. Shout if you need help,” Leslie explained. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll go to plan B.”
Charlie sighed, and then studied his reflection in the mirror. He had come a long way since that dreadful night ten years ago. Since then, he changed his name. Experienced a fairly normal childhood thanks to Gary and Kyle Foster, but some part of Charlie couldn’t forget Liam or the life he’d led before all hell broke loose.
At twenty-two, Charlie had strayed from the right path a number of times and done things he regretted. Things Matthias, the Fosters, or even Caleb would disapprove of, but who gave a fuck? The dead did not speak. Still, he couldn’t quite successfully bury the past behind since he kept Caleb’s ring. He’d been tempted many times to throw it away or sell it, but he couldn’t leave behind the memories the ring evoked. The memory remained clear as day—a cold winter, two frightened kids in a getaway car, and Caleb yanking the chain from his neck, saying a promise he didn’t keep.
“And ghosts should remain dead,” Charlie angrily muttered under his breath. He nearly jumped from his seat when a hand clasped his shoulder. Seeing Leslie, he relaxed.
“Don’t worry about it, Charlie. We’ll take care of the problem,” Leslie said, looking concerned.
“I’ll handle him. Like you said, you have my ass covered, right?” Charlie joked, although even to his own ears, his enthusiasm sounded fake.
“If you’re sure…” Leslie said dubiously.
“I am. Just give me a couple of minutes to change into something new and freshen up.” Something killer, Charlie didn’t add.
“Don’t take too long,” Leslie warned.
Once Leslie left, Charlie furiously flicked through his extensive wardrobe. Why should he be anxious? He should be the one pissed. He did as he was told, didn’t he? He lived a normal life. He waited until he got sick of waiting. Charlie finally settled on his favorite provocative BDSM-themed costume.
“You’re dressed to kill, Charlie. Special private dance? Never seen you look so determined,” Luis, another stripper, asked.
“Oh, yeah, I want to make this a memorable one,” Charlie said. “Help me with all these buckles.”
“Never figured out how you can dance in these,” Luis muttered. “Client’s going to have a hard time getting that thing off you.”
“Oh, he’s not getting his hands anywhere near me. He’s there to watch, not to touch,” Charlie said firmly.
“You’re on a warpath, huh? This bastard must’ve done you some harm,” Luis remarked. He grunted and finally secured the last buckle in place.
“Thank you.” Charlie gave a quick glance at his appearance and decided to fix his eyeliner.
“Good luck, brother,” Luis yelled as Charlie headed out.
Leslie had one of the club bouncers, Gill, waiting to escort him to the private rooms at the back.
“I’ll be right out here. Don’t be afraid to shout if anything goes wrong,” Gill said.
“Gill, why does Leslie have to walk carefully around this particular client when he usually doesn’t tolerate any bullshit from anyone?” Charlie had to ask.
Gill lowered his voice. “This particular shifter has a nasty reputation in the underworld. Began as an underground cage fighter, and then moved up the ladder and upgraded himself to a killer-for-hire. Be careful, Charlie.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Charlie admitted if he heard those words about a potential client, he’d immediately reject Leslie’s offer. Staring at the gold ring again, Charlie didn’t know why he pressed a kiss to the cold metal. To pray for luck maybe and the strength to reject whatever offer the client made to him.
Shifters were more volatile than humans, especially those that made a living out of blood and violence. Charlie knew the last thing this stranger would do was hurt him, though, and, this time, he had the upper hand. It was time to prove to the bastard who abandoned him that Charlie was no
longer a kid. He was all adult.
Charlie took a deep breath, knocked on the door politely, before strutting in.
****
“Fucking hell, how long is the runt going to make me wait?” Caleb muttered to himself. Not a good sign, talking to himself.
Caleb shifted uncomfortably on the leather seat, feeling anxious. He shouldn’t be, given the number of times he did this shit when he got lonely. A killer didn’t have many friends or, for that matter, lovers.
So Caleb took what he could, anything from random one-night hook-ups at gay bars with lonely guys looking to score, but that grew tedious. Got too emotional for Caleb, so he moved on to strippers who did a little extra on the side, or hookers—simple, tidy, and efficient. God knew Caleb wanted straightforward. His own life was a mess.
This particular encounter, though, would be far from pleasant or uncomplicated. How did one greet his fucking mate after not seeing him for a decade? For that matter, how would little Liam react after realizing Caleb hadn’t changed one bit?
Instead, Caleb did what he could to scrape a living, moving from one dirty deed to the next until his conscience no longer bothered giving a fuck correcting his actions. Would Liam look at him with disgust or repulsion?
Caleb sure as hell didn’t give a fuck about what others about him, but Liam, Liam was different.
Finally, the door creaked open. Caleb expected the room to be wrought with tension. Brew with a number of emotions, none of them pleasant or angry. He anticipated little Liam going right for his throat, or maybe play the weepy card. Liam—or Charlie Foster, as he was now known—didn’t do either of those things.
Liam’s scent hit him first, brutally amplified by Caleb’s werewolf’s heightened sense of smell. Jesus Bent, did the boy smell good. Past the dried sweat, slight whiff of cologne, and some sort of glitter paint—if one could smell that—Caleb and his wolf finally breathed in his mate’s distinctive smell.
Both his human half and his beast wanted to push Liam against the wall, pin his arms in place, and take his time nosing his way up that gorgeous line of creamy skin. He quelled the urge no matter how hard it strained the limits of his control. The last thing Caleb wanted was to scare the boy off—except Liam wasn’t little anymore. He was an adult. Fucking temptation.
Caleb could hardly recognize the lean-bodied stripper strutting in, dressed in what looked like a confusing crisscross of leather that hid nothing from the imagination. Even in the dim light, Caleb could make out the thin piece of metal pierced through both of Liam’s nipples and the tiny bit of leather that barely covered Liam’s crotch.
Who the hell was this stranger? Did any part of the boy Caleb remembered still remain in there, or had Liam become a completely different person?
Back when the Fosters used to send Caleb pictures, he saw Liam grow from a young chubby kid to a gawky and awkward skinny teenager. Gary and Kyle stopped sending him updates once Liam went to college. The Fosters meant well when they warned Caleb that Liam had his own life now, but they were too open-minded for Caleb’s liking.
What kind of parents let their kid do as they pleased, even allowed them to earn a living by stripping? Shit, Caleb swore he’d reel in his temper, but all the old hurts and anger came flooding back. He got Liam out so Liam could live a better life, not become another creature of the underworld. Caleb knew he should respect Liam’s choices, but it irked him how Liam did his job incredibly and faultlessly well.
The final nail to his coffin, Liam didn’t give Caleb a look of acknowledgement. Simply strutted to the pole set in the center of the room, openly inviting Caleb to eye him from all angles.
“You ready for a wild dance, handsome?” Liam asked in a husky and seductive voice.
To Caleb’s ears, that sounded like the beginning of a script. How many men heard Liam say those exact words? How many of those clients touched and pawed at what was Caleb’s?
Fuck, Caleb. Keep it together.
Maintaining his calm turned out to be one of the hardest things Caleb had ever done, and he’d seen his fair share of shit and violence.
Shutting his trap seemed like the wisest decision given his growing rage, but Caleb couldn’t help himself. “Liam—”
“My name is Charlie now, and you don’t need to talk. Just enjoy the show you’ve paid for.” Charlie’s dismissive and indifferent tone didn’t help Caleb’s mood.
Something gave Caleb hope, though. His observant eye caught the glint on Charlie’s finger. A smile found its way on Caleb’s lips. The knowledge Charlie kept the ring—hell, even wore it openly in public—gave him fierce pleasure. His mouthy runt might have grown up, taken a new name and profession, but deep down, the frightened boy who asked Caleb to stay remained buried underneath all his layers.
Charlie clearly knew how to make use of his sleek, golden, and lean frame. Stripping clearly wasn’t just a means to an end for Charlie. It was an art form. Caleb had seen his fair share of nubile shifters, but none of them moved the way Charlie did. Charlie made use of every muscle, injecting every seductive move with some measure of grace that held Caleb spellbound. Mesmerized.
For the duration of Charlie’s set, Caleb almost forgot why he got mad in the first place. Each provocative pose seemed like a challenge. The atmosphere began to charge with unnamed electricity. Caleb’s wolf was wide-awake all right, watching as Caleb did, appreciating their fine mate. His erection strained against his jeans, but he didn’t bother hiding it. Charlie could smell Caleb’s arousal, and Caleb could likewise do the same.
No matter how much Charlie would fight and protest, Charlie knew the truth—the pack seers said so themselves—and both their beasts had waited ten years to see each other again. There was no use prolonging the inevitability of their mating.
Caleb anticipated Charlie fighting him with claws and teeth. From the looks of it, Charlie possessed the capability to sink his hooks inside Caleb’s skin, but Caleb gladly accepted the challenge. The ride to the finish would be a wild one, but Caleb would enjoy every second of it.
Chapter Two
If Charlie wanted to play this game, Caleb would gladly return the favor. He sat easy on the couch, letting his legs relax on either side.
“Nice ass. Is it tight as I imagined?” Caleb asked, going for crass.
Charlie’s jaw tightened, but, keeping it professional, he continued his routine. “Well, enjoy the show. Because watching is all you’ll be doing,” Charlie said in irritation. “Then you’ll leave and never bother me again.”
“That’s where you’re dead wrong, runt,” Caleb answered.
A visible tick appeared in Charlie’s cheek at the old nickname. Time to take this up a notch. Caleb thought his lost mate had ice in his veins, but turned out to be the opposite. Charlie was a little firecracker, waiting to explode.
“Care to elaborate?” Charlie asked tartly. Making use of his core muscles and legs, Charlie mounted the pole with grace that could put any feline shifter to shame.
“I came here for one thing, Liam. You. And I’m not leaving until I take back what’s mine.”
Harsh laughter bubbled out of Charlie’s lips. He slid down the pole and stalked towards Caleb, every line of his body aggressive and suggestive at once. Charlie looked torn between wanting to kill Caleb and ride him. Hell, Caleb didn’t deny that incredibly turned him on. There was no shame in letting Charlie know either because they could scent each other’s arousal. See it clearly through the visible outline of their bottoms.
“Your first mistake, Caleb, was presuming your arrogance could get you anything and anyone you want. Typical.”
Charlie spilled into his lap fluidly, straddling Caleb. His arms went around Caleb’s neck. The alternating texture of harsh leather and smooth flesh rubbed at the denim of his jeans.
The “no touching without permission” rule of the club the ugly werebear manager hammered into his head came to Caleb’s mind. Charlie probably wanted to rub the fact that this was the closest thing to intimacy Cal
eb would get.
Too bad Charlie didn’t know Caleb all that well either. A gulf of ten years existed between them. Plenty could change in that time. Caleb thought he’d be bringing home a brat. Some part of him had been guilty of still thinking of Charlie as an unfulfilled obligation, but seeing a challenge on his hands, Caleb couldn’t wait to teach his feisty mate his place. To learn that all Charlie would ever need and want was him.
Charlie leaned in close, until their noses touched. Being able to feel the heat emanating between their bodies reminded Caleb only inches separated them. How easy it would be to take control and jerk that annoying tangle of leather aside so he could strip Charlie bare. See Charlie’s body splayed and willing for Caleb to devour and worship. Then Caleb would wrap his lips around Charlie’s thickening cock and shut him up completely.
“Mistake number two?” Caleb asked, lips curving.
“You presumed I was yours to begin with,” Charlie whispered.
Caleb could see his resolve weakening and his barrier crumbling, but he didn’t come here to force Charlie into anything. He wanted Charlie’s fiery passion and his consent. To know his likes and dislikes and how his mind ticked. Right all his wrongs and replace the bad memories with the good. Caleb greedily wanted it all, and Charlie most of all.
Deep down, Caleb knew he wanted it, too. Years ago, Caleb made the hardest decision of his life. He left Charlie in the care of strangers so he could hunt down the fuckers that eradicated the pack that adopted him. The way Charlie clung to him like an anchor, the taste of his need and desperation, nearly made Caleb hesitate. Hate and love were intertwined after all. Roots of the past tied both of their fates together. Caleb hoped that link could extend to the future, too.
“I don’t presume. I know,” Caleb said.
Rightfully His Omega Page 2