Cam's Fortune

by Odessa Lynne

  * * *

  Cam woke up to hot, wet breath at his throat and hands on his back. Water splashed across his face in a warm drench and he had a moment of disorientation so complete he didn’t have any idea what he was doing, where, or with who.

  Then claws scraped his skin, and the cock sliding in and out of him brought clarity back to his thoughts and he slapped his hands up on the wall to each side of Rick’s head, bit his lip, and let his eyes slide closed again.

  Sweet Jesus, he’d never had so many orgasms in a row in his life. The last one had about done him in.

  Rick’s latest heat cycle had been intense and powerful and had lasted almost twice as long as any of the others. There was only about a week to go, and the cycles had been coming closer together, lasting longer, and wearing Rick down in a way the earliest ones hadn’t.

  Apparently there was a chemical released after a successful mating with one of his own kind that eased the heat. Without that chemical, the heat became torturous for even the strongest of the wolves as they became desperate to impregnate their mates. Same sex mating didn’t allow for that, and neither did interspecies mating. It was one reason they’d developed such a good lubricant. It was also the reason why Cam had fucked more in the last few weeks than he’d fucked in his life. Henry hadn’t had the same drive Rick had, not even close. Maybe it was an age thing, or an alpha thing, but Cam had thought he understood the heat because of what he’d shared with Henry.

  Rick’s heat was nothing like Henry’s.

  Rick’s whimper against his throat refocused Cam’s attention. The shower they shared had been his idea. Wash and fuck at the same time, he’d said, then he could go straight to sleep afterward and not have to waste energy cleaning up. He hadn’t meant to sleep in the shower, though, while Rick was still caught up in his heat.

  “One orgasm too many,” Cam muttered, wiping water out of his face. He slipped his knees a little wider across Rick’s thighs. “Your dick is great, but I think I’m just about fucked out.”

  Rick’s response was a growl and he pressed his face harder against Cam’s skin. He thrust his hips and held Cam in place, his thick cock spurting semen deep inside Cam.

  Cam dropped his head forward, turning his cheek against Rick’s wet hair. “It’s okay, buddy. I’ll make it.”

  Thirty minutes later, they had made it back to the bed. Rick had fallen into a deep, restless sleep, his skin still hot and his eyes glazed. Cam brushed damp hair off Rick’s forehead and watched him as the late afternoon turned to evening and the mid-autumn sun slowly set.

  Chapter 32

  “Shit, I’ve found it.” Cam’s voice echoed through the warm kitchen as he stared down at the computer in his hand. Morning sunlight glittered through the wide windows on the outside walls of the rooms around them and sparkling dust motes glimmered in the air through a wide streak of sunlight that spilled across the middle of the long table and a platter of thick sliced brown bread.

  He liked these odd little houses the wolves seemed to prefer. The bunker had been efficient, secure, and tight. A nice headquarters. His new home was efficient, secure, and cozy, and he damn well liked it.

  He had a home now, not just a headquarters, although truthfully, he hadn’t done much living in it, except fuck and eat and work. He’d been going over the Jones data in his every spare moment, knowing his chances of finding anything were slim without Cordell and Bel to help him. Those two were the tech geniuses he’d been depending on to find what he had suspected he’d find.

  A soft shuffling sound behind him brought his head up and he scooted around on the carved wood chair, draping his arm across the slat back. “I found the encryption key.”

  Rick picked up the bowl he’d filled with a thick stew and walked to the table.

  Cam turned as Rick passed and stared as Rick carefully sat the bowl in front of Cam.

  Rick sat in the chair beside Cam. “Is this important?”

  “Of course it’s important. It’s the damn key, Rick. The names on that damn list I got from the little bit of work Jones left behind with my father can give us the weapons’ supplier for most of the well-organized renegades.”

  “And you think the list can be trusted?”

  “I do.”

  “Then we’ll discuss this with Traesikeille.”

  Cam tapped his fingers on the table and eyed the warm, yeasty bread. “This is important, so we should go now.”

  “After I feed you.”

  Cam leaned an elbow on the table. He took a sniff of the stew. “I shouldn’t admit this, but I was hoping like hell you’d say that.”

  Rick gave Cam a look from under his lashes as he scooped some of the stew onto the end of a piece of the crusty bread. He offered the bite to Cam.

  Cam took it without a second’s hesitation. Rick had made the stew the night before. Venison wasn’t Cam’s favorite, but he’d had a hard time telling that was what he was eating. He let Rick feed him the entire bowl and then a second one.

  “Just remember this is your fault when you can’t find my dick because my belly’s as fat as that pillow over there.” He jerked his chin toward the stack of pillows along one wall that made up the majority of the seating in the living room.

  “If you start to gain weight, I’ll assign you duties that require excessive physical effort. Your longevity is important to me.”

  Cam laughed. “Don’t worry. I’d volunteer. I’ve got a streak of vanity I’ve never been able to get rid of. The day I met Hen—ry . . .” He stopped, cleared his throat. “Never mind. You about ready to go?”

  Rick reached under the table for Cam’s hand. “It’s okay to talk about Henry. He was important to you.”

  Cam squeezed Rick’s fingers, not for comfort so much as the strength to say what needed said. He had found a lot of ways to put off this conversation, and it was probably time to get it out there.

  “Henry was your son,” Cam said.

  Rick met his gaze. “He was.”

  “I don’t know how it makes you feel when I start talking about him.”

  Rick didn’t release Cam’s hand but he raised the other to his chest. “I feel sad. I feel proud. I feel . . . gratitude.” Rick lowered his hand to cover Cam’s. “He had the chance to experience the bond that comes with a true mate. I believe he embraced his fate and was rewarded with a gift from the universe.”

  Cam cleared his throat. “I was no gift. Trust me.”

  “You are a gift.” Said with a sureness that heated Cam’s face.

  Cam ran his thumb across Rick’s knuckles. “I don’t want to hurt you. I feel like I’ve done that enough.”

  “You don’t hurt me when you talk about him. He was your mate. The bond is broken, but those feelings will never leave you. I appreciate your stories.”

  Cam sighed. “Maybe someday. Right now—I don’t know. I feel like an ass when I bring him up. Like I’m not thinking about anybody but myself.”

  “I understand. You need more time to become comfortable with my care for you and my acceptance of your past. Finish the story you started. Then you don’t have to say anything more.”

  Cam exhaled slowly. “One. Then we go see First Alpha.”

  “Thank you,” Rick said. He released Cam’s hands.

  Cam reared back in his chair and crossed his arms, settling in. “I was a jerk at fifteen, just so you know. I grew up with money—a fortune by anyone’s standards. Mom and Dad both had the kind of money that got you anything you wanted and I was used to that. I went into the program because I was Pace Campbell’s son and I wanted to be able to tell my friends how I’d met real wolves—not just seen them on a veo screen. I was also used to getting anyone I wanted, but Henry . . . he wasn’t that impressed. He made a comment about these ladder piercings I’d gotten on each side of my neck—they were popular back then, the hell if I know why.” Cam pointed to where he’d had the piercings.

  Rick leaned forward, using his thumbs to trace the marks that had faded to almost not
hing after ten years. His eyebrows rose, but he simply said, “I find it odd how often humans modify their bodies. Some modifications are more attractive than others.”

  Cam laughed so abruptly his movement made the chair screak against the floor. “Yeah, they made me look like I had gills. That’s what he said anyway. I was so fucking irritated I went home and yanked the damn things out and threw them away. They cost as much as the new car one of my friends bought with his earnings from an actual job.”

  He ruffled his hair, thinking about that long ago day that had really been the beginning of everything.

  “I got rid of every other piercing I’d had and erased every last tattoo off my body—I never had gone in for the permanent kind. I stood in front of the mirror for an hour trying to figure out if I had any chance of attracting him with my human body when you all look like—” He waved his hand at Rick. “Like you. Anyway, my dad walked in on me trying to get a good look at my ass in the mirror. I was humiliated. Then angry. I went back the next day, and instead of trying to impress him, I listened, trying to figure out what he wanted, what he valued.” Cam sighed. “That was it, really. Once I started listening, my whole life changed.”

  He refocused on Rick, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “I still think my ass is one of my best features. You agree?”

  Rick pushed away from the table, his wicked gold eyes flickering over Cam in an assessing manner that straightened Cam’s back. He turned Cam’s chair with him in it, then gripped the edge of the table to each side of Cam, his claws clicking against the wood. “Your best feature is your smile. You should show it more often.”

  Cam tilted his head back. “My mouth has been known to do things much more interesting than smile. Maybe when we get back, I can—”

  Rick picked Cam up by the waist and dropped him right on top of the table. The platter of bread and the empty bowl careened toward the edge of the table, stopping just short of flying off the edge.

  “What the hell are you—”

  Rick pulled Cam forward and the only thing that kept him from busting his head against the wood was Rick’s arm behind him, catching him just before he landed flat on his back.

  Cam tried to shove himself up on his elbow.

  Rick tore Cam’s jeans open, the button holding them together flying across the room to ping against something.

  “Is this your heat?” he asked, but he wasn’t convinced it was possible. Rick hadn’t shown any of the normal signs that his drugs were wearing off or that he had been fighting the urge to mate.

  One hard yank, and Cam’s pants were tangled down around his knees. Rick flipped him over.

  Cam slapped his hands against the table.

  And then Rick stopped. Just like that.

  Cam frowned and looked over his shoulder.

  Rick gazed down at him thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed. If it had been anyone else, Cam might have said he looked . . . amused.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Rick’s gaze flickered up to meet his. “Confirming my suspicions. Your ass is very attractive and this—” A firm fingertip traced the crack of Cam’s ass. “—makes me want to mate you again, despite the fact that my next heat cycle is still safely a few hours away, but it isn’t your best feature. My instincts were right. It is your smile.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Cam flipped onto his back. He kicked out with his bare foot at Rick’s thigh.

  Rick caught his ankle in a solid grip. “I want to spend a lifetime bringing a smile to your lips.”

  “You can start by getting me off this table.”

  “I would rather stare at your human penis for a few more minutes. My heat’s made it difficult to spend the time I should studying the form of my mate.”

  Cam pursed his mouth. Was Rick just messing with him?

  Cam folded his arms behind his head and relaxed his leg in Rick’s hand. “Okay, fine. Study it. Study it with your mouth.”

  It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a challenge.

  The irises of Rick’s eyes darkened noticeably. “Are you trying to demand submission from me?” The tone of Rick’s voice gave away his surprise.

  “Sure, buddy. If that’s what you want to call it. Suck my dick.” Cam raised his other leg and put his foot on the edge of the table. His jeans were in the way, but he was pretty sure Rick got the picture. “Eat out my asshole like a good little—”

  Rick slammed his hands down on the table, his claws digging into the wood beside Cam’s head microseconds before Rick’s mouth collided with Cam’s and stopped the flow of filthy words.

  Cam groaned against Rick’s warm, soft lips and reached around and clutched the back of Rick’s head, holding him close while Rick’s weight crushed him to the hard surface. Cam’s legs were tangled in his jeans and the hard table wasn’t meant to substitute for a bed, but Cam didn’t care. His foot slipped off the edge and though his legs were long, they weren’t quite long enough to reach the floor from his current position, so they dangled until Rick reached down and worked Cam’s pants off him without breaking the kiss.

  Cam was impressed—until he heard denim rip. “Ah shit,” he mumbled against Rick’s lips.

  Rick thrust his tongue into Cam’s mouth and shut him up. Cam groaned low in his throat and enjoyed the pleasure of having Rick own his mouth.

  Several hot minutes later, when Cam’s cock was on the verge of stiffening like it had some life left in it after all the fucking they’d done just hours before daybreak, Rick turned to placing soft little kisses along Cam’s throat, letting his teeth scrape over skin and the ridge of bone and the several days growth of beard Cam hadn’t bothered to get rid of yet.

  Rick tried to raise his head but Cam wasn’t ready to let go.

  “Submit,” Rick growled, low in his throat.

  “Hell yes,” Cam said against the side of Rick’s head. He kissed Rick’s temple and down beside his ear and breathed in the scent of warm skin and clean hair.

  Rick had to reach around and drag Cam’s hand away from him.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Just let me—”

  “Submit!”

  “Dammi—Oooph.” Cam found himself face down on the table again, and this time, Rick yanked him backward so fast Cam yelped and grabbed for the far edge of the table. Rick stopped as soon as he had Cam pulled far enough over the table to get his feet under him.

  And then a hot wet mouth and sharp teeth scraped along the upper curves of Cam’s ass and he gasped, loud and startled.

  “Oh fuck,” he said. “Oh yeah, sweetheart.”

  Rick opened Cam’s crack with a firm touch. Hot breath covered his asshole and Cam shuddered. He couldn’t help himself. He moaned, then mashed the side of his hand against his mouth. When that wasn’t enough, he bit his hand.

  “Sweet Jesus, Rick. You really know what you’re—Oh fuck, touch my dick. Please.”

  Rick reached between Cam’s legs and fondled Cam’s balls. A hint of claw made him jump, and Rick laughed, just a light rumble of sound that skittered along Cam’s spine and made gooseflesh rise. His cock hardened further.

  A whimper worked its way out of his throat as Rick worked his tongue over Cam’s asshole with absolutely no regard for how he was overwhelming and overloading every one of Cam’s senses.

  Cam might be the one submitting, but Rick sure did know how to take an order.

  Then Rick moved his hand from Cam’s balls to his dick. Warm, strong fingers tugged at Cam’s dick with sure strokes and Cam had to rock into the motion. His ability to restrain himself was lost.

  He fisted his hand and pounded it into the table as Rick walked him right up to the edge of the cliff and left him hanging there, panting for release.

  Rick thrust his tongue deep.

  “Jesus!” Cam yelled as he came, spurting semen in long stripes across the floor.

  Rick surged upright and roared.

  Cam tensed for the briefest moment as the sound reverberated in his ears and Rick’s palm thudd
ed against the top next to Cam’s shoulder. The table jolted under him.

  “I . . . might have . . . miscalculated . . . how . . .”

  Cam tried not to laugh.

  He failed.

  “Can’t breathe,” he gasped out. Nevertheless, he stretched his arm out behind him. “Give me—give me the—Oh God.”

  Deep breath, deep breath.

  Shit. Impossible. He was laughing so hard it hurt.

  He wiggled his fingers and finally managed to wheeze out the only important thing he had to say. “Lube.”

  Rick complied.

  Chapter 33

  Sal Jones—Salvadore to Cam, he’d been told, was a twenty year old who looked like a teenager. When Cam had first picked him up, he’d stared at that face and wondered if he had the right guy.

  But Salvadore had his father’s chin, the same nose. Cam didn’t remember Salvadore’s father that well, but he’d seen the man’s image enough times to have memorized every detail.

  The eyes were different, the hair, the leanness of his body. Dr. Nathan Jones had been thin in the face and hadn’t stood taller than Cam’s shoulder even back when Cam was a fifteen year old boy. Then again, Cam had grown tall quickly—which could be partly blamed on the medications his father had made sure he took when he was young, to offset as much of the damage as possible from his birth mother’s addiction. Without them, Cam’s growth might have been stunted by the damage to his organs.

  According to Alan, who’d finally spent some time talking to Cam about what the biotech had done for him, much of that damage had been corrected since his infection with the alien technology.

  Infection? Make that gift.

  Cam believed wholeheartedly it was a gift. Mig was doing well. The wolves had almost been convinced to allow Luis and Ava to receive the technology. His threat to give it to them whether the wolves wanted him to or not hadn’t worked out though. He hadn’t seen them in the week since he’d spouted that off.