by Jana Downs
A big man with biceps as big around as Bradley’s head nodded at them as they ducked through a black curtain on the other side of the bar. “Need a room key, Ryan?” he asked.
Ryan paused. “No. Which room is my brother in?”
“Door three.”
“Aw fuck. I hate going in there,” Ryan muttered. “Do I need a pass code?”
The bouncer shrugged. “He said you’d know it if you came lookin’.”
Bradley opened his mouth to ask about the cryptic message, but Ryan squeezed his hand. “All right. I know what he’s talking about.” He dragged Bradley forward, and then they were ensconced in a long black hallway with pale-yellow sconces along the wall in regular intervals that gave an intimate candlelit feel to the space. It seemed like Bradley had stepped from the club with its edgy sexy feel into a world that was pure sex.
The red numbers on the outside of the rooms counted down from ten. They paused outside room three. It seemed the first three rooms had key pads on them. “Um, forewarning, the room he’s in is a bit intense. My brother plays hard, and if he’s in room three, then he’s playing about as hard as it gets,” Ryan said, keying in an eight-digit code.
“Okay. I’m prepared,” Bradley murmured, steeling himself for whatever was on the other side of the door. It couldn’t be that bad. Surely. The lock disengaged, and a green light came on. Ryan twisted the knob and pulled the door open. His broad shoulders obscured Bradley’s vision almost entirely for a brief instant before he stepped fully in the room. When Ryan moved, he wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him.
Room three was a room that looked like little more than a locker room shower. Carpet ran about five feet into the room, and the rest was tiled to the ceiling. Three massive shower heads rained water down in a steady wash over a series of chains that hung between. Attached to those massive chains was a very naked man who was soaked and crisscrossed with angry red welts. A metal cage was clamped tightly around the man’s swollen cock, and a variety of clamps ran the length of his chest from his nipples to his groin in a V-pattern. The submissive’s mouth was plugged with a thick rubber phallus that looked like it stretched his mouth almost unbearably wide. He raised his eyes, and their gazes met. Instead of the pain that Bradley expected to see, there was raw, unadulterated lust in those crystalline depths.
Jesus, is this what Ryan wants from me? He swallowed and felt his body stir in reluctant interest. He wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to be that vulnerable in front of anyone else. Ryan looked over his shoulder at him and let out a low growl that wrapped around Bradley’s heart and tugged. “What?”
Ryan shook his head and his fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t look so interested, boy. It’s never going to happen.” Was he jealous? He sure sounded like it. Should he make a suggestion? Explain? Nah. It would just make him look guilty.
“I’m only interested in you, Ryan,” Bradley promised, dragging his eyes away from the image in front of him to the man beside him. Ryan frowned but didn’t comment. Bradley opened his mouth to say something else but a harsh “crack” followed by a low moan of pain had him turning his head back toward the man in chains.
Ryan growled again. “Show off.” In a louder voice he called out. “Regan! Get your ass over here.”
A long-suffering sigh sounded over the downpour of water. “You’re ruining my scene, Ry.” Ryan’s twin brother, Regan, stepped around the showers with a long, heavy leather flogger in hand. He wore only a pair of black board shorts and nothing else.
“We have a pack problem,” Ryan said.
“And what problem is this?” Regan asked, all business now. He glanced over his shoulder at the man in chains. “Relax for a moment, boy. Think about what you’d like next while I talk. If you’re good, you’ll get a reward when I’m done.” The “boy” nodded and let his body sag in the chains. Regan turned his attention back to their conversation. “Well?”
Ryan grabbed Bradley’s arm and dragged him forward. “Because Mr. Vanilla decided to get an available mark inked on his skin to get in here. He’s non-sanctioned.”
Bradley bristled. “I’m not vanilla. I just haven’t been trained, but I want to learn.”
“Oh shit,” Regan muttered, eyeing his tattoo. “Well he needs to be sanctioned immediately. Does he know about…” He gave Ryan a meaningful look.
Ryan opened his mouth and spoke at the same time Bradley spoke. “No.”
“Yes.”
Regan frowned. “So which is it? Yes or no?”
“I know about werewolves. I saw Ryan shift,” Bradley said, pointing a finger at the man who he was pretty sure was his future boyfriend.
“You did what?” Ryan snapped, glaring at him. “You’ve been following me around?”
Bradley bit his tongue. Shit. Now I sound like a freak. “It’s not as weird as it sounds. I was going to wait to approach this, but, um, you’re my mate. I’m pretty sure of it.”
Both men’s jaws dropped and identical expressions of incredulity crossed their faces. “You’re out of your damn mind, human,” Ryan spat. “Do you not understand anything? Wolves decide who their mates are, not the other way around!”
“I know that. I’ve read enough books on the subject to discern that much at least,” Bradley said, offended that Ryan was talking to him like he was an idiot.
Ryan growled. “You and your damn books are going to be the death of me. Dammit, Bradley, I told you when you asked the first time that it was never going to happen. This is the most insane thing I have ever heard.”
“Whoa! Would you stop screaming, Ryan? Jesus,” Regan interrupted, looking back and forth between the two of them with a puzzled expression on his face. “Bottom line, he knows about wolves. He has to be sanctioned.”
Ryan stomped his foot. “No! He can’t be involved in the pack. You’re coming with me to the shop, and we’re covering up the available tattoo. Right now, bro. I mean it.”
Regan’s eyebrows shot heavenward. “Now, huh? You need to take him to the office and register him and give him a rundown of the rules. There shouldn’t be a reason in the world you should need me, even if you had to do a cover-up and hold him until the Alpha got there.”
“Bro, I need you,” Ryan said, shooting Regan a furious look. If Bradley had a weaker ego, he would’ve taken Ryan’s constant attempts of escape as a blow.
“Is he your mate, Ryan?” Regan asked.
Ryan hesitated, and Bradley’s heart soared. “No,” he said finally. Bradley wanted to do a happy dance. That was an awfully tentative “no.”
Regan slapped him on the arm with his free hand. “Good. Then you should have no problem controlling yourself in a private setting. Now, excuse me, Ryan. Introduce me to your new friend tomorrow.”
Bradley knew a dismissal when he heard one. Ryan stared at his brother with horror written all over his face. Okay. I’m not that bad. Annoyance flickered. It really wasn’t fair of Ryan to treat Bradley like a damn plague.
“Let’s go,” Ryan snapped, putting a gorilla grip on Bradley’s fingers once again. Regan turned his attention back to the man in chains and let his flogger fly. It caught on his vulnerable sac, and the man cried out in a mixture of agony and ecstasy. Bradley felt his own balls tighten in sympathy. Would he like that if Ryan did that to him? Ryan growled. “I told you to stop looking so interested!” A sharp tug on his wrist and they were moving again. The door was jerked open, and Ryan pulled him back into the hallway.
It hit him. Alone. We’re going to go somewhere alone. He had his in. His tattoo had worked. He was a part of Ryan’s world. His heart began to pound. Yes!
Chapter Two
He might as well have painted S.C.R.E.W.E.D. in bold letters on his forehead. His and brother’s mental conversation echoed through his head.
“You like him,” Regan had said.
“Do not,” Ryan had replied.
“Do so. If it means nothing, it’ll mean nothing. Have fun. He’s cute.”
Ryan had m
ade a sound of distress. “Regan, I freaking need you.”
“You need to stop cock blocking yourself. I’ve seen the way you look at him when he comes to Howlers. Go. Deal. With. Your. Own. Mess.”
“Are you mad at me?” Bradley asked as Ryan dragged him back through the club to the bar so he could get his coat.
“No,” Ryan shouted over the heavy bass of the techno music. The club was finally in full swing. It was packed to capacity, and the dance floor was a mass of gyrating bodies. The bar area was full, and the registry area for the private rooms was already booking up for the night. The thirty-minute booking schedule was displayed on a monitor on the wall beside the digital registry.
He pulled Bradley up so that he was blocked between Ryan and the bar. He did not want another Dominant to get a gander at Bradley’s tattoo and cause Ryan to get into a brawl. The Alpha wouldn’t be pleased. He motioned for Tanner, the regular bartender, to grab his coat, and the dark-haired giant winked and gave him a thumbs-up as he indicated the man he was pressing against the bar. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What was it with people trying to push him and Bradley together tonight? The universe was conspiring against him. Mine, his wolf rumbled. Shut up!
Tanner returned to the side of the bar Ryan was on and handed him over his leather biker’s jacket. He hesitated and looked over at Bradley. If the human hadn’t driven or brought a jacket, he was screwed on Ryan’s bike. His red Daytona 675 was great to ride during the summer months, but during the cold winter months, it could be hell.
“How about you, cutey? You have a jacket stashed back here?” Tanner asked the human, leaning forward so that they could hear one another over the heavy pulse of the rest of the club. Ryan didn’t want to smash the other man’s face against the hard surface of the bar top, but he was tempting him with the flirtatious way he kept smiling at the human.
Bradley had the gall to smile softly and duck his head before he answered. “I took a cab. No jacket.”
“Too bad you’re going to be on this big lug’s bike. You’d be more comfortable in my Mustang. Whatcha say, Ryan?” Tanner’s eyes went to his. “Let me take the new boy off your hands for the night?”
Ryan snorted. “Watch it, Tanner. He’s off-limits. Spread the word.”
Tanner frowned. “His ink says ‘available.’”
“Don’t worry about it, friend. I’m fixing it in just a minute.”
The bartender’s eyes widened almost comically. “He’s your mate? My bad, Ryan. Seriously. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“He’s not—Why does everyone keep—Oh for Christ’s sake. Just spread the word. The new boy, Bradley, is off-limits,” Ryan managed to stammer.
“Will do, beta,” Tanner said, tilting his head to the side to acknowledge Ryan’s Dominance.
Ryan took one look at Bradley’s naked chest and draped his leather jacket over his shoulders. Even in a T-shirt and jeans, Ryan had more protection against the freezing temperatures than Bradley did. The boy looked up in surprise but just smiled his thanks and hugged the jacket closer to him. The gesture did weird things to Ryan’s chest, made it all tight and shit.
They finally made it to the other side of the club, and Ryan held open the door to let the human out into the parking lot. “Where’s your motorcycle?” Bradley asked as they got away from the entrance.
Ryan gestured to the left side of the lot. “Not far. You warm enough?”
“Yeah.” There was Bradley’s secret smile again. “Your jacket smells like you.”
Jesus. The boy knew how to tempt a wolf saying shit like that. Ryan closed his eyes and counted to three. “You are trouble, you know that?”
“I might’ve been told that a time or two,” Bradley admitted. He looked and smelled nervous all of a sudden. “You know, you don’t have to do this. I know I kind of went overboard with this, but I think if you considered me, you’d come to the same kind of conclusion that I did.” His babbling was adorable. Whoa. Where did that come from?
“I need to get you to the shop and get your ink fixed. I have to explain things as well. Let’s not discuss anything until then.” He hoped that Bradley would let it drop, and, thankfully, he did.
“I always wanted to ride your motorcycle,” Bradley said, climbing astride his bike like he’d done it a thousand times. “It’s why I bought mine.”
“You have a bike?”
“Yeah. It’s a Kawasaki Ninja 14R series.” He leaned forward on the bike, gripping the handles and pushing his pelvis into the seat. Ryan went rock hard, and before he knew it his hands were gripping Bradley’s perky bubble butt. The human groaned and pushed his hips back into his hands. Ryan kneaded Bradley’s leather-encased buttocks. He could see himself peeling the leathers off Bradley’s lean hips, spreading Bradley’s beautiful cheeks, and fucking him full of his cum.
“You really like motorbikes,” Bradley purred, pushing his ass into Ryan’s eager hands. “That feels good.”
Ryan growled. Mine. He swung his leg over the back of the bike so that the ridge of his jean-clad dick rocked against Bradley’s pert backside. “You are built to be fucked, Bradley.”
“Then why don’t you?” Bradley asked, his voice a low murmur of sound.
Ryan could see his game a mile away, and the part of him that was all Dominant wanted to play along. “Why don’t I what?”
“Why don’t you fuck me? I’ve never once told you I didn’t want it,” Bradley murmured.
“You’re too clean to fuck, boy,” Ryan said, leaning forward in a mirror image of Bradley’s position. “But I can be tempted.” He allowed himself one last grind before he cranked the engine.
“I want to be a submissive, Ryan. I want to be your submissive,” Bradley said. His clear words seemed more effective than any lustful admission.
Ryan kissed the back of Bradley’s neck in the spot he would mark if given half a chance and lifted the kickstand. “You’re too clean for my dirty hands,” he promised against his skin. The human shuddered, and lust perfumed the air.
“Aren’t you going to put on a helmet?” Bradley asked.
Ryan laughed. “You’re living on the wild side now, Bradley. I didn’t bring a helmet with me.”
By the time they pulled into Howler’s empty parking lot, Ryan was pretty sure that he was a living, breathing mansicle. His skin felt brittle and wind worn. His hands fumbled in his jean pocket for the shop keys, and he prayed that Regan had remembered to turn the temperature up to sixty-five before they’d closed up for the night. Mustang had done all that previously, but ever since he’d gotten mated to Grayson, he’d been leaving the shop a little early and leaving it to Ryan and Regan to close up.
“Thank you for letting me use your jacket,” Bradley said, shrugging it off as Ryan struggled with the jangling keys. “You might want to put it on now though. It was cold on the highway.” Cold was an understatement. The lust that had sparked at the beginning of their trip was quickly chilled by the blast of cold air on Ryan’s exposed skin. Talk about a cold shower.
Ryan took his jacket back and put it on. It was still warm from Bradley’s body heat. He finally managed to insert the correct key in the lock and stepped into the shop. Bliss. The temperature had been turned up to a reasonable degree. The alarm on the wall beside the door beeped in warning, and Ryan wasted no time in using the deactivation code on the pad. It wasn’t incredibly high-tech, but it was sufficient for their needs.
“Have a seat, Bradley,” Ryan said, motioning to the front desk and chair where they did all the reception stuff. He grabbed a wheeling stool for himself because it was what he was most comfortable on. The paperwork for the admission into pack life was in the filing cabinet, but they’d get to signing his life away in a minute. “You are way more involved in this than you think you are.”
“Well, why don’t you explain it to me?” Bradley asked, sitting down in the desk chair and tilting his back so that he looked like some kind of debauched angel sitting on a throne. The image did wond
erful things for Ryan’s frozen libido.
“First off, knowing about the pack means that you are now involved in it. As a human who knows about our kind you will have to be educated in the etiquette and laws regarding the pack. They have classes every Tuesday and Thursday night at the community center that you’ll have to attend until you have seven sessions under your belt. They teach everything from D/s to intricate international law. I’ve been told it’s pretty riveting stuff.” Ryan felt himself falling into the familiar role of lecturer. He’d given this speech to availables for years. “The big things you need to know off the bat are as follows. One, don’t tell anyone and I do mean anyone about what we are. If you do, you’re in violation of pack law and as such can be killed by any wolf on sight via the Alpha’s orders. Two, you’ll have to get a tat on you that designates your role for the pack. You’ve marked yourself as an available, but I think you should read the pamphlet”—he rolled over and grabbed one from under the desk before handing it to Bradley—“and then make a decision on which tat to keep. The ink on your skin will determine how other shifters in the pack treat you.”
“Is that the preferred term?” Bradley interrupted. “Shifters?”
Ryan shrugged. “Turned wolves are weres. Born wolves are shifters. Easy to remember. Most of the pack are shifters.” He opened his mouth to continue only to have Bradley interrupt him again.
“So which are you? Shifter or were?”
Ryan sighed. This was going to take forever if the boy kept getting hung up on details. “Shifter. I was born this way, baby.” His Lady Gaga reference went unnoticed as Bradley became engrossed in the pamphlet he’d handed him. Ryan continued. “Last but not least, you have to report to the Alpha, same as everyone else. That means, one night out of the month the Alpha will host an event at his place and you are expected to attend. That’s the only time when humans are really allowed access to the Alpha, so take advantage of the fact and let him know any questions or concerns you may have. On the back of the pamphlet are some numbers that you might as well go ahead and program into your cell.”