by JC Holly
Chapter Three
Micky left Hudson’s place an hour later and headed straight home, smiling like an idiot the whole way. He’d done it! He’d turned a disappointment of a day into a friggin’ date with the man of his dreams! Now he just had to make sure he didn’t fuck it up.
He pushed that thought from his mind. If he started along that path, he’d have himself nervous as hell by the time the date came around, and that would not do. Not with this man.
While he’d been tuning the laptop, Hudson and he had exchanged small talk covering a number of subjects. It was all pretty mundane stuff, but he helped Micky get a little more of a handle on the man that up until recently he’d known almost nothing about.
Hudson was an old soul, that was certain. When Micky brought up some local news about a couple of muggings, the man’s response had been, “People these days are allowed to get away with far too much.” It had made him sound like a sixty-year-old man, and Micky hadn’t been able to help grinning. Hudson explained it away saying he’d spent a lot of time with his dad before he passed, but it was pretty clear he held the same beliefs.
Also, despite his build and sometimes imposing manner, Hudson was incredibly laid back. When Micky mentioned it, Hudson grinned, saying that he had his moments, still, but knew when to blow off steam and when not to. Micky guessed time in a gym, but apparently Hudson preferred time outdoors and hard work at a cabin he owned in the middle of the woods. An image of the man shirtless while chopping logs did things that made Micky glad he was sat in his car and not on the bus.
The man clearly knew his way around a tussle, though. There were faint scars on his arms, Micky had noticed, and they looked like either knife wounds or possibly deep scratches. Maybe he fights bears on the weekend. He snorted at the thought.
He had seen him in a fight once, he suddenly remembered. Months ago, when Micky and his friends were leaving the club, the bouncer was having a hard time with a couple of assholes outside, and instead of calling for the other bouncer who was inside, he called for Hudson. Micky remembered being surprised at the time, but he’d held back to watch. Hudson had come out of the bar like an entirely different person, his calm manner discarded like a jacket as he squared up to the two men.
One had pulled a knife, or maybe it was a gun, and Hudson hadn’t even flinched. He explained to the two men that they could leave standing up or on stretchers, and one lunged at him. It was the last move the guy made for a while, that was for sure. Hudson had moved just enough for the punch to miss, then sank his fist into the attacker’s gut hard enough to lift the man from the floor. He sank like a stone and his friend fled. As soon as the fight was finished, Hudson’s calm flowed back over him and he smiled to the bouncer as he walked back inside.
Micky pondered the memory as he pulled into his driveway and headed to his lounge. Hudson had moved like a professional boxer, but he hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort during their conversation that day, even when the perfect moment to do so came up. Perhaps he wasn’t proud of it?
“Heeey!”
Micky glanced up to see Laura still sat on the sofa. “Still here, then?”
“You think I’d miss your return?” She slapped the cushion beside her. “Park it and spill.”
“Spill about what?”
“You know full well what!” She jabbed him in the ribs as he sat. “Hudson! You may not have got in his pants, but you got inside his house. What’s he like?”
He shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. “Oh, you know. Nice guy, very chilled out, great place. And who said I’m not getting in his pants?”
Her jaw dropped for the second time that day. “What?”
He let his grin out. “Okay, so maybe not that, but we are going out to a movie tomorrow night. After that, who knows?”
Laura bounced out of her seat and grabbed her phone from her pocket. “I have to call Rhys.”
Micky laughed. “Remind him that he owes me fifty dollars. That’ll pay for the movie.”
* * * *
Hudson put a call into the bar and told them he couldn’t make it in for his shift that night. When he’d woken that morning, he’d intended to work his shift as usual, but as soon as he’d made the date with Micky, the anxiety had begun to set in. He needed to work it off, which meant a trip out to the cabin.
As soon as he’d hung up, he was straight up the stairs to change into his favorite set of cargos and a simple dark T-shirt, then he was out the back door and headed down to the fence at the end of his garden that separated him from the woods beyond. Not pausing to open the gate, he instead vaulted over it and kept walking.
The woods were the reason he’d bought the house all those years ago, and while the area had steadily become more built up over the decades, the woods were protected and had only become more beautiful.
A narrow path led through the trees, winding along for miles before it reached anything resembling civilization again. Hudson followed the path for a while, his hand out to brush against the trunks of the trees as he passed, and his senses on full alert. He had no real predators—the act was only so that he could absorb more nature.
As he breathed in, the woods came alive to him. He could hear the scurrying of small creatures darting away from him in the undergrowth, see the birds in the trees, and smell the trails left by animals earlier in the day.
He also smelled another shifter, but he paid it no heed. There were two packs operating in the city, and while they had no real love for each other, they were courteous to him or avoided him entirely. In the beginning, when they’d realized he was in the area and learned of his age and power, both packs had tried to recruit him. Both had failed, but neither bore him ill will because of it, and he frequently saw members in the bar and was always friendly. While he had no need for a pack, there was no point in burning bridges.
After a mile or so of walking, Hudson reached a fork in the path. To the left lay the main route, which snaked around the area and eventually ended near the parking lot of a furniture store. To the right, the path seemed to travel a short distance then end at a wide but slow river. In fact it continued on, but the way was hard to spot until you were on top of it. Hudson took another lungful of fresh air and headed right, then jumped the river.
It was a good half hour before his cabin came into sight, but it was a welcome sight indeed. The place was incredibly simple—only three rooms, including the small bathroom—and that was how Hudson liked it. He’d built it with peace and quiet in mind, which is why the place had no electricity, no phone, and certainly no internet. It was his oasis in a world of technology.
He couldn’t help but sigh happily as he unlocked the front door and let himself in. Just setting foot inside calmed him. For miles around, there was nothing but trees and wildlife. In the time since he’d built the cabin, he’d not seen one unwelcome guest.
He closed the door behind him and crossed the small but cozy room to the woodstove in the corner and began laying a little kindling in the base, then adding a few logs from the box beside. He’d built enough of a stockpile that he didn’t need to chop any more that day, which meant he could spend more time relaxing instead. Once the fire was built, he closed the stove’s metal door and began to strip off his clothes.
It hadn’t been too long since his last shift, only a few days, but already he could feel the urge building. In some shifters, the urge lessened over the years, but for Hudson it was quite the opposite. If he went more than a week without at least a few hours in his wolf form, he became as irritable as someone giving up booze or cigarettes.
Naked, he dropped to all fours and let the change happen. It was a simple thing, really. The body wanted to change, so it was no more complex than flipping a switch. He just had to let go of one form and the other was ready and waiting to take hold.
The process was agonizing to newer shifters, but Hudson was long used to it. Pain surged along deadened nerve endings, shifting bones, muscle, and organs into their wolf counterparts, and H
udson spent the time deciding whether to hunt then or cook something when he shifted back later. Before he knew it, the change was over and he was left lightly panting on four legs.
He shook his head then sneezed as he got used to his even more acute senses, then sat on his haunches and let out a loud howl. “I’m coming,” he was calling to the animals nearby. “Hide or be ready to run.”
Another howl came from somewhere in the distance, but it was only a greeting of sorts. He didn’t recognize the “voice,” but it was definitely another shifter. It was like hearing someone speak French with an American accent. The words were right, but you could still tell they weren’t from France.
He padded into the back room of the cabin and nudged against a patch of the wooden wall. It shifted, moving on hinges to allow Hudson to exit the building, then snapped shut, stopping anything from using the hatch to get in.
The scents of the day, no longer muted by walls, filled his lupine lungs, and he made a quick circuit of the cabin to make sure nothing had been marking its territory on his territory. The only smells were from smaller animals, so he headed out into the trees, starting slow, then building in speed as his legs quickly warmed up.
Before long he was bounding along between the trees and bushes, chasing after mice, squirrels, even shadows. He let his mind wander and his instincts took over almost entirely, his legs working on autopilot.
As he ran, he thought about his upcoming date. It would be his first in years, and while he wasn’t worried about screwing it up, he was worried about what would come later if everything went well. There were some revelations that were hard to swallow, like an addiction to drugs or a sordid past. “I’m a centuries-old werewolf,” made them look like nothing.
He was getting way ahead of himself, though, he decided. He hadn’t even been on the first date, and he was already thinking about something that would come way down the line. Let’s meet, eat, and fuck first. The last part was pretty damn appealing, he had to admit. It had been a long time since he’d done that, too, but he was pretty damn certain it was one of his favorite parts.
As long as Micky could handle him, anyway. There were several times that the wolf came out, and one of the most prominent was during sex.
Chapter Four
Before Micky knew it, the night came and went, Laura had finally left, and it was the day of his date with Hudson.
He glared at his hair in the bathroom mirror, then once again tried to flatten the crown. It refused to stay put, regardless of how much he swore, so he gave up and turned his attention to the large quantity of shaving foam he’d coated his face and neck in. There wasn’t much stubble at all, but his dark hair meant the tiniest amount stood out a mile on his pale skin.
As he shaved himself back to baby-smooth, he wondered what Hudson was doing at that moment. He doubted it took much for him to prepare for a date. The guy was a god no matter what he wore. He could arrive at the theater in a pair of dungarees and a straw hat and Micky would still drop his pants for the guy.
He shifted in front of the mirror as his cock started to harden in his slightly-too-tight pants. If it happened in the theater, it’d be pretty damn difficult to hide. Then again, maybe that would be a good thing, he thought with a smirk. Let Hudson see what kind of effect he had, and then drag him into a bathroom stall.
“Okay, that’s really not helping,” he muttered as he finished scraping the razor over the few remaining patches of foam. “I’ll be exploding out of my pants at this rate.”
As much as he wanted to sleep with Hudson, and he really did, he doubted that the date would turn into that. Hudson didn’t seem the ‘first date fuck’ kind of guy. He was so old-fashioned in some ways, and Micky figured that dating would be another way. Then again, he could be wrong…
Finished in the bathroom, Micky headed downstairs to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and checked the clock on the wall. He had ten minutes to get to the theater. With a curse he dashed out of the front door, jumped back inside to grab his keys, then into his car and pulled out of the driveway, narrowly missing a hydrant.
“Geez,” he said to the rearview mirror. “I shouldn’t be this friggin’ nervous.”
His reflection had nothing to add, other than copying what he was saying, so he moved his gaze back to the road and concentrated on not crashing into anything on the short drive.
Hudson was waiting just outside the theater’s entrance, and smiled warmly as Micky approached.
“Hey,” Hudson said. “You look great.”
Micky smiled in return and leaned in to kiss the man on the cheek. It wasn’t something he normally did on first dates, but the man looked so damn delicious, he couldn’t resist. Cargo pants, a loose fitting shirt, and a pair of comfy boots. He looked every inch the rugged working man. As Micky pulled from the quick kiss, he noted that Hudson smelled of burned wood, too.
“Been at your cabin?” Micky asked as they walked into the theater.
Hudson nodded. “I spent the night up there. Very peaceful.”
“Maybe I’ll see it someday.”
“Maybe.” Hudson winked. “So, what are we watching?”
Micky frowned. “Damn, we forgot that part, didn’t we?”
“Yup. What are you into?”
Strong men with big cocks. He felt himself start to color and turned from his date to glance at the posters. “Well, I like action, comedy, thrillers, that sort of thing. You?”
“I love some action.”
His expression proved that the wording wasn’t accidental, and Micky couldn’t help but let his eyes stray down to the man’s crotch. While the pants were loose, he could still tell that the man was packing something serious downstairs. Maybe Micky would be getting lucky that night after all.
“Uh, how about this one?” Micky pointed at a poster for the latest blockbuster explode-a-thon.
“Perfect. I’ll get the tickets.”
“I’ll grab the drinks and popcorn. How do you like it?”
“However it comes,” Hudson said as he walked to one of the ticket sellers. “Be right back.”
Micky watched him walk away, then forced himself to head to the concessions stand instead of just gawking at the man. How the hell did he manage to score a date with Hudson Stark? It made no sense.
Five minutes later, they were both sat at the back of the theater, watching the trailers for upcoming movies. Neither had any interest in what was being shown, so they exchanged a little small talk instead. A guy in front turned at one point to shush them, but on seeing the size of Hudson he quickly turned back again and slid down in his seat a little. Micky still felt a little bad, so he lowered his voice.
“So, how long have you been a bartender?”
“Three years, give or take a month or two. It was only going to be a temporary thing, but I liked the work and getting to know people, so I stayed.”
Micky nodded. “I’ve worked with the public before, but it’s a little too social for me.”
“I’m not that social either, to be honest,” Hudson said. “It’s why I took the job. To force myself to be a little more outgoing. You don’t seem introverted to me, though.”
Micky shrugged as he sipped at his bucket of Coke. “I think it’s more a dislike of idiots than a dislike of people.”
Hudson chuckled. “Okay, that I can understand. Some of the customers at the bar…” He shook his head. “I swear, some of them shouldn’t be allowed out unsupervised.”
“I have friends like that. You saw one of them the other night, in fact. Rhys.”
Hudson nodded. “He comes in a lot. Mostly seems to stare at me.”
“Gotta admit, I’m a little guilty of that.”
He smiled. “Oh, I know.”
Their conversation was cut short by the blare of an explosion as the movie started. Hudson seemed to wince at the sound, but it could have been Micky’s imagination.
The movie sucked. Micky had suspected it might as soon as he’d seen the poster, but h
e was not prepared for the amount of awfulness on the screen before him. Even the actors looked embarrassed to be in it. After ten minutes the theater seemed to become more restless, as the viewers started considering leaving or began to strike up hushed conversations with friends.
Micky turned to Hudson to ask if he was enjoying himself, and maybe suggest they try another movie, when Hudson beat him to it.
“Screw this,” the man said. “Let’s go get a burger or something.”
Micky grinned and stood. “I’m so glad you said that.”
They left the theater with a few other people, then headed straight out of the building. Micky stopped by the entrance and gestured to the parking lot.
“Your car or mine?”
“I walked, so it’ll be yours.”
“Are you sure? You’ll be entirely at my mercy, then.”
“Really?” Hudson raised an eyebrow. “That’d be hard work on your part.”
Micky regarded the man’s thick arms and didn’t doubt it. “Maybe, but it’d be fun trying.”
Hudson laughed. “Tell you what, if you buy the burgers I might just let you try.”
* * * *
Despite the terrible movie, Hudson had to admit that the date was going well. He’d even managed to flirt with the guy without making a complete fool of himself. If he was frank, he hadn’t really intended to at first, but as soon as Micky had come out of the parking lot in those figure-hugging pants Hudson’s animal side starting straining at its leash, and he’d gone from hoping to have a good time, to hoping he’d get to sink his cock into the man’s round ass.
The fact that they were now sat next to each other in Micky’s car didn’t really help that. Neither did his shifter’s senses, which were currently telling him that Micky was horny as hell.
“So, what are you in the mood for?”
Hudson glanced up at Micky and realized that they were nearing a drive-thru. “Oh, food.”
“Yeah.” Micky arched his eyebrows. “Why? What were you thinking of?”