by Kate Steele
Mention of their pack alpha sent a shiver down Crewe’s spine. There was no way he was ready to face William Devereau to ask for anything. “It’s a good thing graduation is less than a week away,” Crewe joked. “Ethan smells really good.”
His father grinned. “I know how you feel. Your mother’s scent drove me out of my mind. Still does.”
Crewe’s mother sent her husband a fond smile before turning back to her son. “You’ll have plenty to take your mind off of Ethan, Crewe. I’m going to miss you but I’m beginning to think it’s a good thing you’re going away to college. It’ll make this easier for you.”
“So… you guys aren’t disappointed? I mean if Ethan does turn out to be my mate?”
“You know better than to ask that, son,” Ethan’s father told him. “If anyone can understand the machinations of genetic imperatives and the call of our instincts it’s us. As weres, we understand and live with it on a deeper level than humans will ever achieve. To fight what nature demands is ridiculous.”
“I know. It’s just that some humans make such a fuss over two men being together.”
“And for that reason you know that if you and Ethan come together as mates you’ll have to face those prejudices. That’s the only thing that bothers me about this. I don’t like it that the two of you will struggle with those issues and the bigots who spout them.”
Crewe shrugged. “I’ll do what I have to do, Dad.”
“I know you will, son. And your mother and I will be right here supporting you.”
Crewe settled more comfortably against the truck’s headrest and smiled at the memory. His father had meant every word he’d said. Crewe had lived his entire life with the sure knowledge that his parents’ love and support was his. He went to college and, for the most part, stayed away from the temptation of Ethan. Occasionally Crewe returned home, each time seeking some small contact with him. Just seeing Ethan from a distance or walking by his house late at night to catch his scent was enough.
He was never exactly sure when the uncertainty vanished, but on one of those visits any doubts he may have had disappeared. Ethan was his, but for Crewe it was as though something inside was on hold. He knew his instincts would tell him when the time had come to claim his mate. With the patience inherent in his kind, he waited.
After college he took a job at an established dojo. His life moved on and inevitably there were sexual encounters along the way. Crewe’s knowledge that Ethan would one day be his stirred his curiosity about what sex would be like with another man. He went out of his way to learn. While the experiences were pleasant, they were unfulfilling. As time went by, sexual satisfaction became harder and harder to come by. Crewe eventually retreated from any and all would-be partners. He thought of Ethan more and more, and decided that perhaps it was time to make Ethan his.
Going to his alpha, Crewe petitioned for permission to claim his mate. As it turned out, it was Lucas Devereau who received him and not William. William had retired and his son, Lucas, won the position of alpha. Crewe was rather glad to have someone closer to his own age to speak to. At the time he was twenty-six and Lucas thirty-one. Even so, Lucas had refused his request. Bowing to his alpha’s will, Crewe went away swallowing his frustration.
For an entire year, except for his own hand, he was celibate. At the end of that year the yearning started in earnest and he absolutely knew it was time. He’d wake in the night, drenched with sweat, his body tied in knots and his cock so hard it hurt. Jacking off brought only minimal relief. Once more he petitioned Lucas and what an experience that had been.
“So once again you think you’re ready to claim your mate,” Lucas had drawled while sitting behind his desk, sipping from a glass of single malt Scotch.
“Yes. I am.” Crewe answered without hesitation, meeting those piercing amber eyes.
“Why?”
“I’m twenty-seven years old. It’s time I settled down.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. I’ve established a good reputation for myself. I’ve moved back to my hometown where Ethan is and started my own dojo. I’m doing very well.”
“I see.”
“Even though he may not want it, I’ll easily be able to provide for him.”
“Umm-hum. Anything else?”
Crewe shook his head. “No.”
“Permission denied. See yourself out.” Lucas went back to perusing the papers on his desk without giving Crewe a second glance.
Crewe stood there frozen in disbelief. Fine tremors racked his body as he fought the rage building inside.
Lucas looked up, one brow rising in a supercilious manner that made Crewe’s blood boil. “Is there something else?”
“You can’t do this,” Crewe managed to say though his throat had gone tight with anger.
“I’m your alpha. I do what I please and you do what you’re told.”
The blaze in Lucas’ eyes should have flattened Crewe’s rebellion but his need for Ethan was too great. “No.”
“No?” Lucas rose from his chair and rounded the desk. Six feet five inches of prime and proven alpha was coming straight for him.
Crewe managed to shake his head, sure he was about to be severely damaged, but he refused to back down.
Practically nose to nose, Lucas snarled. “Then tell me why. Why do you wish to claim your mate?”
“Because. I. Burn,” Crewe growled, unable to respond with anything other than the soul deep truth that drove him.
Lucas took a step back, his expression settling back to it usual calm mien. “Then what are you still doing here? Go. Permission granted.”
Confrontation over, Crewe’s knees went weak with surprise and relief.
Lucas grinned, “Would you like a drink before you go?” At Crewe’s wordless nod, he splashed some Scotch into a fresh glass and handed it over. “You guys always make this so complicated. We’re werewolves, for God’s sake. Our instincts tell us when to claim our mate. It’s caveman stuff. Ugh, me want to fuck mate,” Lucas intoned with pseudo-primitive accent. “That’s all I need to hear.”
Crewe snorted Scotch out his nose. “Fuck! That burns!” he sputtered.
“And that’s a helluva way to waste a good Scotch.”
“It’s your fault. You and that caveman shit.”
Laughing, Lucas passed Crewe a box of tissues. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Crewe cleaned himself up and swallowed down the last of his Scotch. “Thanks. I appreciate your time and the drink.”
“You’re welcome.” Crewe headed for the door and opened it, but stopped when Lucas called his name. “Just one more thing.” Lucas’ eyes bored into Crewe’s. “If you ever defy me like that again you’d better have a damned good reason or your ass is going to be in a world of hurt. Are we clear?”
“Crystal clear, Alpha.”
Lucas nodded, then winked. “Call me Lucas. Now get the hell out of here.”
Crewe grinned and gleefully followed his alpha’s command.
* * *
Sighing, Crewe stretched and took in another deep breath. Though it was fading, Ethan’s scent still clung to the interior of the truck. Making a quick decision, he got out of the truck, stripped and opened the regular door that led from the garage to the backyard. He stepped through, closed the door and stood silently. The yard was encircled by a tall privacy fence and even taller bushes. A strange wavering in the air surrounded him, and a split second later Crewe was in his wolf form. With a toothy grin he swiftly slid between the special hinged and hidden exit in the fence and padded his way to Ethan’s house.
* * *
Ethan dragged his coat off and hung it up in the hall closet. He stopped to study his reflection in the full length mirror on the inside of the closet door. He was dressed as usual in a long sleeved white shirt, a tie, dark trousers and his dress shoes. He frowned. All that’s missing is a pocket protector. Fuck.
Even though such formal dress wasn’t required, Ethan always dressed this way. He was smart eno
ugh to realize that it was just another wall he put between himself and others, but he was so used to doing things this way it was nearly impossible to change. Formal clothes and manners were not inviting, and his fear of getting close to people made him use anything at his disposal to keep them at a distance.
Toeing off his shoes, he shoved them into the closet and took the stairs to his room. Once in his room, he peeled off his clothes and laid them on the wing chair near his dresser. Opening a drawer in the dresser revealed sweats and neatly folded tee shirts. He pulled out a pair of soft, worn, dark gray sweats and a favorite old blue tee to go with them. About to don the sweats, he was halted again by his reflection. Most of the time he avoided looking at himself but this time he studied himself frankly.
He was slim. Not skinny, thank God, but slim just the same. There was very little extra muscle definition but no flab. Although Ethan could tell in his present condition, if he put on weight he’d probably end up with a pot belly. The thought was not amusing. His body shape reminded him of the swimmers he saw on televised competition, although they certainly had more muscle mass than he did. Still, his arms and legs were long, almost elegant with their length of fine bone and flesh.
Very little body hair marred the pale perfection of his skin. There were sparse dark puffs of it under his arms, a light smattering of a treasure trail and the trim bush that framed his cock. Although flaccid, his cock was still a respectable size. At least there was nothing there to be ashamed of.
He turned to the side. His belly was flat, and he was grateful for the fact that his chest wasn’t concave. He frowned a bit at the curve of his ass. It was smooth, firm and full, almost too full. The term bubble butt came to mind and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. A lot of guys supposedly liked that, according to the things he’d read, but then they weren’t the guy walking around with that butt.
He studied his face. Though he was now twenty-five, face and body combined made him look more like eighteen. I bet if I went to a bar they’d card me. The thought brought a grimace of disgust to his face.
Turning away from his reflection, Ethan wandered into the bathroom, used the facilities, washed up and dressed. Heading downstairs, he went first to the kitchen to make himself a cup of hot cocoa then returned to the living room. Setting the cup down beside the book he’d left on the end table near the sofa, he went to the fireplace. The glass doors were opened and the mesh spark screen pulled back. Ethan lit the fire that was already laid out and ready. The fire caught and crackled, its warmth and light comforting some primitive part of his human psyche.
Ethan curled up on the comfy, overstuffed sofa, pulling his long legs up, and reached first for his book then the cocoa. He read for a few minutes, sipping the warm chocolaty brew, but his mind wouldn’t stay focused on the printed page. Thoughts of Crewe kept intruding. With a sigh he put away the book and cup and relaxed back against the sofa. What could Crewe have possibly meant? I noticed a lot more than you might think. And why had he seemed so intent on knowing if I was seeing someone?
He puzzled over his conversation with Crewe. The things he’d said, the looks he’d sent Ethan’s way. The one he’d given Ethan in the truck had made Ethan’s heart beat faster. It was the kind of look one lover would bestow upon another. Why would Crewe give him a look filled with such warmth, and why would he say he cared? In what way? It’s not like they were ever friends. They’d never exchanged word one in school. Except for a brief encounter in the library, Ethan couldn’t remember Crewe ever looking in his direction. And yet Crewe knew my name and said he’d noticed me. Ethan found it difficult, almost painful, to acknowledge the thought that maybe Crewe was being more than just friendly. He wants me to come to his dojo. He wants to see me again.
That thought loosed a flutter of wings in Ethan’s belly and made his cock stir. He closed his eyes, lips parting to release a breathy sigh. Reaching out and up, Ethan switched off the lamp, leaving the room in darkness but for the flickering of the fire. He stretched out on the sofa and lay back, making himself comfortable. Without stopping to think about it, one hand pushed his tee shirt up while the other slid into his sweats.
Sure fingers wrapped around his swelling cock. A few easy pulls accompanied by several soft, panting breaths brought his growing erection to aching fullness. Restless movements of his hips sent the sensitized shaft sliding through his grip and he moaned, loving the sweet friction. Ethan let his thoughts drift, random images coming and going until they coalesced into one of his long-forgotten, Crewe inspired fantasies.
Instead of one of the numerous girls Crewe was always with, he’d offered Ethan a ride home in his sleek, red Mustang. In his fantasy, Ethan never could come up with a reason why Crewe would do such a thing, but then it was a fantasy after all. Crewe would wait for Ethan to settle in the car then take off across town, but instead of taking Ethan home, he would drive to the large park across the street from Ethan’s house. The park was huge with picnic and parking areas off the twisting roads that ran through it. There was a large pond and waterways fed by natural springs and even a sizeable playground for kids to play.
Ethan would sit in the car, watching the scenery change, while his heart beat faster and his body tightened with excitement. Crewe would bypass the more public places and finally pull off onto a rough path that led to a small open area. The parking and picnic area was sheltered and hidden by tall trees and undergrowth in every direction. They would get out of the car and sit on the picnic table with their feet resting on the bench.
Neither one would say a word until Crewe would finally speak. “I want to kiss you.”
In his fantasy, Ethan would look at Crewe and Crewe would lean in, touching their lips together.
In reality, the thought brought a moan from Ethan and he was suddenly no longer thinking of teenage Crewe but of the man he met tonight. The thought of Crewe kissing him, touching him, made his stomach quake and his skin heat. His hand moved faster on his cock, his grip tightening, his breath speeding. His free hand first pushed his sweats down and then his tee shirt high up his torso, baring his chest. Slim fingers reached for taut flesh, pinching and pulling one pebbled nipple.
His teenage fantasy was replaced by one of two men kissing. Crewe would step down from the picnic table, turn and move between Ethan’s thighs. His mouth would take Ethan’s while his sure hands worked to open Ethan’s pants and free his aching prick. Ethan groaned, dizzy at the thought of Crewe’s touch. He stroked himself harder. In his mind, Ethan could see Crewe bend. Crewe’s mouth would open and Ethan jerked with shock when his imagination gave him the sight of Crewe’s mouth closing around his cock.
The ache and burn in his balls intensified. Licks of fire skated up his spine. Ethan pushed hard with his hips, driving his cock through his clenched fist, his thumb brushing over and over the red, swollen tip. When fantasy turned Ethan’s thumb into Crewe’s tongue, he burst.
“Crewe!” he shouted.
His back arched with the agonizing pleasure that surged forth. Spurts of pearly cream shot from his cock and landed on his torso, coming to rest like warm curls of liquid ribbon against his skin. Shudders wracked his body and aftershocks of release pushed tendrils of pleasure over and beneath his skin.
Ethan shook and panted, his muscles slowly unclenching while soft moans accompanied the gradual relaxation of his body. He sucked in a long, stuttering breath, went boneless and let himself drift in the remnants of pleasure that leached gently away. A sudden yawn took him, his jaws cracking with it. Forcing himself up, he wandered to the kitchen. A wet paper towel was used for clean up before he shuffled back to the living room.
Checking to make sure the mesh spark screen was back in place, Ethan settled on the sofa. He pulled the throw from the back of the sofa over himself and drifted to sleep.
Outside, a pair of golden eyes, peering through the sheer curtains, blinked.
* * *
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” Crewe stood under the flow of hot water in his
shower, desperately pulling at his swollen cock.
After Ethan’s delightfully blatant, innocent and unrestrained performance, Crewe was on fire. All he could see was Ethan spread out on the sofa with firelight dancing on his pale skin. The way Ethan’s hands had moved, the sheer beauty of his slim body writhing with the growing pleasure his hands coaxed forth, shook Crewe to the core. He’d gone back for another whiff of Ethan’s scent. He’d been rewarded with so much more.
Through the glass and the slightly parted curtain, Crewe had seen and heard everything. Ethan’s moans had Crewe panting. When Ethan pushed his sweats down to reveal that long, thick cock, Crewe was ready to howl. The sight of Ethan plucking at his own stiff nipples sent a jolt straight to Crewe’s cock and he’d been plunged into sensual overload. If the bushes near the window had presented a more solid purchase, Crewe would have been humping them he was so turned on.
The final blow was delivered when Ethan came and shouted Crewe’s name. The blaze of hunger that shot through Crewe nearly sent him through the window. Ethan wanted him and the wolf wanted his mate. Now. A raging battle was instantly triggered within Crewe. He’d shuddered as every muscle in his body quaked with the fight taking place between man and beast. The wolf’s need was primitive and savage. A red haze had filled his mind, obscuring everything but the desire to claim, to mate.
Crewe had hung on to his humanity by a thread. That tiny part of himself that remained untouched by the wolf knew full well that tamer actions had to come first. Wild, unrestrained passion had its place, but he couldn’t unleash the beast just yet. Ethan would flee in terror. It was only that thought which brought the wolf under control, though it growled and threatened even as it backed down. Taking advantage of the wolf’s capitulation, Crewe had fled.
A fast lope found him back at his own house where he changed back into his human form in the dark yard and quickly let himself into the garage. Grabbing his clothes from where he’d left them on the truck’s hood, he stormed through the house. Crewe charged up the stairs and went straight for the master bathroom where he now stood under the steamy spray.