Bound: Mason's Alphas

by D. J. Heart

  Chris wanted to ask about Mick—ask why he was pissed—but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  “I can find something. This off the books?” Brandon asked, sounding happy.

  “Completely. The agency can’t have their fingerprints anywhere on this.”

  “Let me call you back in a few hours. I think I have a few places that would be good.”

  “Thanks, man,” Chris said.

  “No problem. Just call Mick, okay? He’s been impossible since you left. I don’t know if he wanted in on your thing or what, but you need to work whatever this is out between you.”

  “I’ll talk to him. I just need to finish this. Call me when you have something.”

  Chris hung up. It was abrupt, but he’d rather be rude than keep on talking about Mick.

  When Brandon called back a few hours later, he didn’t mention Mick. Chris was relieved.

  “Are you coming back to the team when this is over?” Brandon asked after telling him he’d found a cabin that Chris could borrow. “The temp they brought in is good, but he’s not you.”

  “Hopefully,” Chris said. He wanted to, but it wasn’t likely. The list of people he wanted to kill had gotten really long in the eighteen months since James died, and Chris probably wouldn’t be able to get to them all without eventually getting caught.

  “Good. I’m mailing you the details on the cabin. Just make sure you clean up after yourself and send the keys back to the PO Box when you’re done and everything should be fine.”

  Chris thanked him and hung up, navigating to the temporary email account where Brandon had sent the details.

  The cabin was perfect.

  Looking over the map Brandon had sent him, Chris grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. Brandon had come through big time. Miles and miles of privately owned woods surrounded the abandoned property, and the nearest neighbor was a two-hour drive away.

  No one would even know he was there, much less intervene while he brushed up on his dusty interrogation skills.

  There was a knock on the door, and Chris looked up from his desk. He logged out of the email client, the information committed to memory.

  “Come in,” he called, shutting down his computer.

  “Chris? Marlow wants to talk to you.” It was John, one of the guards. “He’s waiting for you in his office.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Chris grabbed his jacket and left his office near the security control room above the club, heading outside. He made his way into the small office building next door and ran into Dexter, Marlow’s assistant, in the hall.

  “Boss man said he wants to see me?” Chris said. Dexter nodded, looking distracted. He was a tall man, though he needed to start working out if he ever wanted his bulk to match his height.

  “Yeah, just go on in. He’s waiting for you.”

  Chris clapped him on the back and continued walking, heading straight for Marlow’s office. He knocked on the door and let himself in.

  “You wanted to see me?” he asked, sticking his head through the door. Marlow was on the phone, but he waved Chris inside.

  “Everything ready?” Marlow asked. Chris had kept him in the loop on the when of his plan, but not the how.

  “Leaving tomorrow. I should have an answer for you in a few days.”

  Marlow frowned. “You really think it will take that long?”

  Chris shrugged. “Not for the initial extraction, no, but I’ll have to verify the information with additional rounds of interrogation. There’s a system to it.” Chris looked up like he’d just had an idea. “You want me to film it?”

  He knew Marlow would say no. Marlow didn’t have the stomach for real violence. That might be why he’d gone into such a cowardly business.

  “No, that’s fine. Just get the information any way you can.”

  Chris inclined his head, making no comment. Marlow gave himself a little shake, and then he brightened.

  “That wasn’t why I called you, actually. I have another job for you.”

  “Now?” Chris asked, frowning. Marlow waved his concern away.

  “It’s just a little thing. One of the omegas you brought in last week isn’t responding to the heat shots. The doctor says the shots are working, but that we need to kick start his heat by having him knotted as soon as possible.”

  Chris did not like where this was going, but he kept his face interested and a little eager.

  “Yeah? And you want me to…?”

  “Go down to the holding dorm and fuck him.” Marlow said it like it was nothing. “Hopefully once you get your knot in him he’ll go into heat.”

  Chris grinned, trying to think of a way out of the “job” and failing. Fucking an omega who wasn’t in heat would be ten times worse than fucking one who was. At least when they were in heat there was the illusion of consent.

  Why had he made such a stupid excuse for not taking advantage of the club omegas when he could? He should have just lied. It wasn’t like any of the omegas would contradict him if he said he’d fucked them. Or he could have said he was gay. That would have shut them up fast.

  “Sounds like fun,” he said, standing up. “Anything else?”

  Marlow shook his head. “That’s it. And Chris?” Marlow scrunched his brow. “We’re putting him in the club the minute he goes into heat, so don’t go too far. We don’t need a traumatized omega on the floor.”

  “I’ll restrain myself,” he assured his disgusting boss. He didn’t have to feign the distaste in his voice.

  Marlow looked pleased, waving at him to leave.

  Not knowing what else he could do, Chris said goodbye and made his way to the omega dorms.

  ***

  Chapter 12

  Mason bent over the sink and drank straight from the faucet. The water was cold, but it had a metallic flavor that lingered in his mouth unpleasantly. He splashed some water on his face, the shock of it waking him up, and he dried off by lifting up his T-shirt and rubbing it on his face.

  The door leading into the dorm opened, and Mason froze. Someone walked into the dorm, their footsteps heavy, closing the door behind them and locking it. Mason swallowed.

  Maybe they were bringing in more omegas?

  “Hello?” The voice was low and gruff, and Mason stepped back. He didn’t recognize the speaker, but there was something familiar about him. There was a sharp knock on the door and Mason jumped, making a high-pitched sound in the back of his throat that he hoped the alpha hadn’t heard.

  “Come out when you’re done.”

  Mason listened as the alpha’s footsteps moved away from the door, wondering what was going on. It occurred to him that keeping the alpha waiting probably wasn’t the best idea, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move.

  Since he was standing by the sink, Mason turned the faucet back on and washed his hands. He wiped them dry on the towel he’d used after he showered that morning. Having bought himself a few extra seconds, Mason walked to the door and pushed it open, stepping out of the bathroom and into the dorm.

  He was immediately hit with the scent of alpha. It was more potent than anything he’d smelled since coming to the brothel, and he couldn’t help taking a deep breath. The scent was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

  Mason pulled himself together and made an effort to breathe through his nose.

  The alpha was sitting on the bed closest to the bathroom, his boots planted wide apart on the floor, and his leather jacket draped over the bed behind him. He had wide shoulders, a powerful chest, and arms that bulged with muscle. His hands were splayed over his thighs, and Mason couldn’t help but gulp as he looked up to the massive bulge in the alpha’s crotch.

  “Hello,” the alpha said, standing up. He towered over Mason, and when he stepped forward Mason flinched. The alpha froze, his mouth twisting down before smoothing in a hard line. He looked toward the locked door, and when he turned his face back to Mason it almost seemed like he was trying to smile. “I’m Chris.”


  The alpha held out his hand, and Mason stared at it without a clue what he was supposed to do. The alpha’s hand was large, and as it hung in the air between them he suddenly realized that the alpha was introducing himself.

  Mason hesitantly reached out his hand, the alpha’s large paw enveloping his and squeezing down. Mason flinched, the grip brutally tight.

  “Sorry,” the alpha said, letting up but not letting go. “And you are?”

  “I’m…” Mason’s voice cracked, and he started over. “I’m Mason.”

  Chris let go of his hand and nodded. Mason studied his face, though from his vantage point pretty much all he could see was a lantern-shaped jaw and dimpled chin hovering over a massive set of pecs. He could feel the heat coming off the alpha’s body, and all of a sudden he couldn’t take it. He took a step back, almost tripping over his own feet. He would have landed on the floor if Chris hadn’t reached out, calm as could be, and grabbed his arms to steady him.

  “Are you okay?” Chris asked, looking down at him with a furrowed brow. His eyes were intense, and Mason felt overwhelmed. The hands holding his arms felt enormous.

  Mason nodded, unable to make himself speak. Chris steered him around and pushed him to sit down on the bed, manhandling him with such ease that Chris felt like a puppet on a string.

  “Come on, sit down and calm down,” Chris said, his voice surprisingly patient. Once Mason’s ass was on the bed, hands gripping the sheets on either side of his lap, Chris straightened and stepped back.

  Looking up at him, it was hard for Mason to believe that they were the same species, much less designed to mate. He was just so huge.

  Again, Mason’s eyes were drawn to the crotch in the alpha’s pants. He could see the outline of Chris’s cock where it lay pressed against his thigh. As he studied the bulge in the denim, it almost seemed to grow bigger.

  Chris cleared his throat, and Mason looked up. The alpha had a slight blush on his cheeks, and Mason realized with a sort of horrified detachment that he’d been staring at his crotch like some kind of pervert.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down and feeling mortified. Not so much because he’d been caught staring at an alpha—Chris was obviously the ideal specimen of that particular breed—but because he’d been lusting over one of the people keeping him locked up in this horrible place.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” Chris asked, leaning back against the bathroom door. Mason licked his lips and nodded, suddenly understanding.

  Chris was a client. Whatever they’d been waiting for regarding his heat, it obviously hadn’t happened. They must have decided to just start selling him anyway.

  “To have sex with alphas,” he said, his heart beating fast as he wondered what it would be like to be fucked by an alpha like this. His muscles looked like they had muscles, and from the way he’d shaken Mason’s hand he obviously didn’t know his own strength.

  Mason hoped that whatever was about to happen wouldn’t hurt.

  “To have sex with you?” he asked, looking up at the alpha through his lashes when no reply was forthcoming.

  Chris was watching him with a heavy-lidded expression, the rise and fall of his chest more pronounced than before. He took a step forward, and Mason drew a shaky breath.

  “You’re okay with that?” Chris asked, his voice deeper than before. He took another step forward. “You’re not going to fight?”

  Mason exhaled in a shudder, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He wasn’t going to fight. His plan depended on getting fucked by as many alphas as it took before he bonded. It was his only hope of escape.

  “Is it going to hurt?” he asked, the question rushing past his lips before he could stop it. He clenched his jaw shut, hoping Chris wouldn’t get mad.

  Chris shook his head and sat down next to him on the bed, putting his massive hand down on Mason’s thigh.

  The touch burned, even through his flimsy pants. The tips of Chris’s fingers reached down to rest against his inner thigh. Mason felt something stir in his lower stomach, his dick getting hard despite his nerves.

  “We can go slow,” Chris said, rubbing Mason’s thigh, moving farther and farther up until the side of his hand was resting against Mason’s crotch. “Open you up nice and easy until you’re ready for my knot.”

  Mason’s eyes shot open—he didn’t know when he’d closed them—as Chris lifted his hand away and draped his arm over Mason’s shoulders, pulling him in under his arm.

  It felt like he was drowning in alpha. Chris was massive and warm, and Mason hadn’t felt as relaxed as he did under the alpha’s shoulder since he’d been sold.

  It was fucked up, but Mason didn’t care. He was getting fucked, and if cooperating meant that it happened in a way that didn’t hurt, then he wasn’t going to complain.

  Chris held Mason tight, rubbing his arm and touching his stomach, leaning down and burying his nose in Mason’s hair.

  “You smell really good,” he said, his breath damp and hot on Mason’s scalp. Mason shuddered, not saying anything. Chris lifted his face, and Mason looked up at him. His eyes were dark.

  “Do you like this?” Chris asked, lifting Mason around so that he was straddling his lap, facing his pecs. Big fingers curled in Mason’s hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look up Chris’s rugged face.

  “Yes,” he answered, honestly. There was a part of him that hated Chris for coming to a place like this, but most of him was just happy his first time wasn’t with a sadist or with a person who wouldn’t give a fuck about making him feel good.

  “You’re so big,” he added, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

  Chris smiled, the lines around his eyes wrinkling, and flexed his arms and chest. Mason turned his head instinctively and kissed the bicep next to his face.

  The contrast between soft, smooth skin and rock-hard muscle was delicious, and Mason moaned. He parted his lips, licking his tongue down and tasting Chris’s salty skin. When he looked up, Chris’s pupils were huge and dark and he was breathing through his mouth.

  Mason felt drunk, and there was a tingling feeling in his hole he’d never felt before. He couldn’t believe how horny he was. His fear was rapidly melting away, replaced with a need that was more acute than anything he’d ever experienced.

  Chris was making him go into heat. For a second the epiphany cleared his head, but then Mason just went with it. He licked up the vein on Chris’s bicep until his nose caught in the tight sleeve of Chris’s T-shirt, at which point he lifted his head and looked at Chris again.

  “You like my body?” Chris asked, sounding both smug and eager. He grabbed the back of Mason’s head again and steered him into his pecs, pushing his nose into the cleft between them.

  The thin layer of cotton separating Mason from Chris’s skin was too much. He reached for the hem of Chris’s T-shirt and pushed it up, but he couldn’t get it past the alpha’s abs. Chris grinned down at him, making his pecs bounce, and Mason growled in frustration.

  Leaning forward, taking pity on him, Chris reached up and pulled the T-shirt off and threw it to the floor. Mason stilled, transfixed by the sight of Chris’s pits. The heady scent of alpha and sweat was concentrated there, and he couldn’t help but lean in.

  Chris grabbed the back of his head and pushed him into his pit, clamping his arm down and trapping him in the warm crevice. Mason could barely breathe, but the scent of alpha was like heaven. When Chris released him, just a few seconds later, Mason’s face felt sticky and cold.

  Chris kissed him, and Mason forgot all about the alpha’s muscles or the smell of his alpha pheromones. He parted his mouth, letting Chris fuck into his mouth with his tongue, feeling like he was being invaded and laid claim to. Before he knew it, Chris had flipped him over and laid him down on his back. He almost had the breath knocked out of him as Chris flopped down on top of him, kissing into his mouth like time was running out.

  Smothered and overpowered, Mason couldn’t even remember why he’d ever had a b
ad thought about the alpha on top of him. When Chris pulled away, his eyes dark and his expression almost feral, Mason shuddered and stared up at him with blank need filling his body.

  “I’m going to knot you,” Chris promised, and Mason had no objection. He wriggled around until he was on his belly—no small feat when smothered by an alpha that outweighed him by seventy pounds—and pushed his ass up.

  It was as blatant an invitation to proceed as he could manage.

  Chris growled, and Mason’s cock shot a spurt of pre-cum into the sheets. His hole was wet, and he was ready to get fucked.