by Marcy Jacks
DeWitt’s Pack 8
Mason Returns to His Mate
Mason DeWitt is on his way to see his brother after ten years of exile, but after stopping in at the local pawn shop to get some gas money, he runs into the one person he hoped not to see. His mate.
Derek McTavish has never forgotten Mason, even after ten years, despite the fact that they only had a one-night stand —or four—together, and when he sees Mason again, he needs to act before the man leaves him again.
But Mason cannot forget that night when his wolf attempted to claim Derek. He believes it was sexual assault, and Derek believes otherwise, but will they reconcile their differences before a new group of hunters arrives to start a new war between wolf and man? Especially after Derek kills a hunter in self-defense, and now they want his head as much as Mason's.
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal,
Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 36,574 words
MASON RETURNS TO HIS
MATE
DeWitt’s Pack 8
Marcy Jacks
EVERLASTING CLASSIC
MANLOVE
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove
MASON RETURNS TO HIS MATE Copyright © 2012 by Marcy Jacks
E-book ISBN: 978- 1-62241-728-5
First E-book Publication: December 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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MASON RETURNS TO HIS
MATE
DeWitt’s Pack 8
MARCY JACKS
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Mason DeWitt sighed as he put his junky Honda pickup in park. He propped his elbow on the steering wheel and shoved his fist into his eye, rubbing away the tiredness he felt.
He couldn’t fucking believe he was back in this town. James was going to have kittens when his younger brother showed up, no phone call, no warning, not so much as a letter or text from the last decade.
It had been a long-ass drive, coming all the way down from Northern Ontario, and getting through the border had been a pain in the ass, but he was finally back.
For whatever reason, Mason had woken up one day and felt more homesick than he’d ever felt in his life. It was pathetic, like he was a kid away at camp, but something inside of him had just snapped.
He wanted to go back to his pack, even if it was only to say he was sorry for the way he’d acted before they officially threw his ass
out.
There was one more person Mason thought he should say he was sorry to, but Derek was a human, and after what Mason had done to him, he figured it was best if he left the guy alone instead of stirring up his shit just because Mason was having a couple of regrets.
8 Marcy Jacks
He pulled the gold Rolex out of his pocket and stared at the thing. Derek had given him this, once upon a time. The kid had stupidly bought it for a man he’d known less than a week, squandering a lot of the savings he needed to survive, and after Mason had left, he’d clung to the thing like it was a teddy bear.
If Mason was finally going to let the other man go, he needed to stop holding on to the little things that reminded him of the guy.
That, and he kind of needed the money for gas and food.
That was why he’d parked in front of The Old Highway Pawnshop. He couldn’t believe this place was still in business after all these years. It actually caused a nostalgic twitch on the inside of his chest.
The pleasant feeling was replaced with dread when he was
reminded of what he was about to do.
Stroking his thumb over the glass face of the watch, Mason got out of his truck. The door creaked when he opened it, and rust was eating away at the edges of the vehicle.
Damn.
With nothing he could do about it, he took off his worn leather jacket and slung it over his shoulder and walked to the front door or the shop. He was pretty sure that the sign in the window that shouted Come In! We’re Open! was even the same one that had been used ten years previously.
He opened the door, the bell chiming as he entered, and he was still stroking the face of the watch as he approached the empty
counter.
* * * *
Derek heard the bell at the front door chime, and he hurriedly put the box of old game controllers he’d been searching through back on the shelf. “Be out in a minute!” he called, writing down the number of items in the box and their worth, according to the eBay page on his
Mason Returns to His Mate 9
iPhone, and then taped it to the box before heading to the front of the
store.
There was a single man standing in the shop, leather jacket slung over his shoulder, looking up at the thirty-two-inch flat screen on the wall that had the week’s weather and a soccer game playing, on mute, of course.
Derek had never been
a football or hockey type of guy. He loved
soccer.
“Sorry, that one’s not for sale,” Derek said, turning away from the screen before he got pulled into the game. “I have others if you’re interested.”
“No.” The man turned. “I’m―”
He stopped before he could say anything his. His face drained of
color when he looked at Derek.
It took Derek about a split second to realize who was standing in front of him, too, and when it clicked, he was sure he was just as pale as Mason.
He couldn’t help the hopeful smile that came next. “Mason?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“It is you. Holy God, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“You have,” Mason said.
Derek’s face went from cold to hot in less than a second. Right, he knew what Mason was referring to. The last time they’d seen each other, they were both about the same age. Derek was twenty, and Mason had just turned twenty-one.
He wouldn’t have known it to look at the other man. Mason had a
build that bodybuilders and personal trainers spent hours in the gym,
or hundreds of thousands of dollars, to get.
Derek had looked exactly as any geeky twenty-year-old should.
He’d been scrawny.
That had always made his memories of their time together all the better. The thought that a built guy like Mason would ever look twice at a stick figure like Derek had always been something nice to think
10 Marcy Jacks
about whenever he remembered the other man.
Mason smiled hesitantly and stepped forward. Only one step before he stopped. “What happened to you?”
“Late growth spurt, I guess,” Derek replied. “Work out three or four times a week though, for about an hour, and I don’t drink any protein shakes, so I’m pretty sure it was a growth spurt.”
Mason nodded, his eyes still glued to Derek’s body.
Derek liked the way he was being looked at. It was something he’d not quite gotten used to, and it was always flattering, considering he was the kid that got shoved into lockers in high school.
Now, although still smaller than Mason, he had the stomach and shoulders of a GQ model. He even had something of a beard growing out if he didn’t shave in the morning, which was a look he enjoyed, so he tended to skip shaving every two or three days.
He knew the orange T-shirt he wore was stretching over his abdomen, and he couldn’t help but be pleased as Mason stared.
“When did you get back into town?”
Had Mason come for him?
Mason blinked and seemed to come out of the trance that Derek’s
body had put him in. He shoved something into the pocket of his faded jeans and cleared his throat.
“Just now. On my way to see my brother.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Derek said, doing his best to hide his disappointment. “How is everyone doing?”
His choice of wording was done on purpose. He dared not ask how the pack was doing. No, he remembered how Mason didn’t much like talking openly about what he and his family all were.
Though the pack was situated just outside of Brampton, Derek didn’t keep in contact with any of them. Not even Mason’s older brother.
Oh, he saw them around once in a while whenever they did their odd jobs to bring in money, but they avoided him and he avoided them. He pretended not to know werewolves existed, and they
Mason Returns to His Mate 11
pretended he didn’t know. It was better that way.
Sometimes he thought he was the only man in Brampton to figure it out. Everyone in town had their own superstition with wolves because they were always in the area and always seemed to be howling at night, but Derek had been especially interested in them. He’d been a geek, really.
He’d always known about the group of people who lived just outside of town, but most people thought it was just another group of houses. They avoided those houses and those people because of all the injuries and the occasional death that supposedly happened there.
He had been an incredibly curious geek.
He’d seen Mason for the first time, in an unguarded moment, in the woods just outside the property where the other houses and cottages were. Derek had thought him to be the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life.
He hadn’t meant to spy on them. He’d honestly just taken the day to go hiking. Then he’d watched the man shift, and he still thought he was beautiful.
Mason had sniffed him out, and after a brief chase, they’d stopped and spoken.
Talking with a real werewolf, who was naked, was the most amazing thing Derek had ever done in his short life. Maybe it was his obvious attraction to the other man that drew Mason to him in return.
Somehow they’d come together, and Mason had sworn him to secrecy from that day on.
Even after Mason had left town, Derek had kept his promise. Really, who was he going to tell?
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Mason said.
What? “You haven’t kept in touch?”
Mason’s face turned scarlet.
Shit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean―”
“No, no. Not your fault. I haven’t been keeping touch. Not after ”…
12 Marcy Jacks
Mason trailed off, and Derek didn’t push him. He did bite down on his bottom lip, though.
He had a fairly good idea of what it was that made Mason run away from his pack, and Derek was certain it had something to do with the fact that they’d been fucking.
Why the hell not? Derek’s family had thrown him out after he refused to go to one of those pray-the-gay-away camps. After the sudden way Mason came to him and then left, it only made sense to Derek that he was banished from his pack for having a relationship with another man.
He was still having trouble deciding if the fact that he was also human had something to do with it, too.
Was Mason going back to try and get back into their good graces? Why would he even want to go back if they tossed him out?
Mason smiled at him and took a step back, his heavy boot making the floorboards groan. “It was good to see you again, Derek.”
Panic seized Derek like a fist squeezing his heart and lungs, and for a second he struggled to breathe.
Mason opened his mouth. What he was going to say, Derek didn’t know, because he shut it again and turned around.
Derek hurried to the glass door and pushed it shut just as Mason tried to open it.
Mason looked at him quizzically.
Without taking his eyes away from the other man―his pale-blue eyes were more gorgeous than Derek remembered, and when had he shaved his head?―he flipped the lock and turned the “Open” sign to read “Closed” to any customers who might try coming in.
It was one thirty on a weekday, so Derek was pretty sure they had some time.
“What are you doing?” Mason asked.
Derek recalled the way the other man was always able to smell when Derek wanted him. Judging by how Mason’s nostrils were flaring now, he had no doubt in his mind that Mason knew what he
Mason Returns to His Mate 13
was up to.
He took Mason by the hand and pulled him away from the door. “Stay a while,” he said.
Mason didn’t protest as Derek led him into the back storage area. Thank God he’d just cleaned up in here yesterday. There was no dust or oil on the shelves when he pushed Mason up against them, grabbed him by the chin, and kissed the man.
By the way Mason’s body went tight, it was safe for Derek to assume that he’d just shocked the hell out of him. When his hands slid around Derek’s waist, coming to a stop just above the swell of his ass as Mason kissed him back, he’d guess that it wasn’t an unwelcome shock.
He’d missed Mason so much. He just couldn’t let him leave.
* * * *
Mason didn’t know what he’d done right lately to have deserved this.
After what he did to the other man all those years ago, he would’ve thought that Derek would never want to be in the same room with Mason ever again, let alone touch him.
Despite that, Derek had smiled at him, made polite conversation, and was now pressing his hips against Mason’s. His cock was hard beneath those nearly too-tight jeans he was wearing, and Derek’s fingers were undoing the belt and fly of Mason’s own worn-out jeans.
Whatever it was that put Derek in such a good mood, Mason didn’t care, and he didn’t protest when Derek pulled down Mason’s jeans and boxers, grabbed hold of his cock in his cool hand, and then fell to his knees.
One hand grabbed Derek by the shoulder, and the other held him by the back of the head, gripping him by the hair, when Derek opened his mouth and put his lips around Mason’s throbbing prick.
He hissed in a breath. “Oh God.”
If Derek was just doing this to be cruel, so that he could get
14 Marcy Jacks
Mason off and tell him to get the hell out, then Mason would consider it well worth it just to have those pink lips moving up and down the base of his cock again. He was a bastard for letting this happen, and he didn’t care.
Derek was as good as he remembered. Better, even. He didn’t
want to even think about what that actually meant, but it was there, and he was loving the hell out of it.
When the other man hummed slightly around Mason’s dick, the vibrations of his mouth shooting stars of pleasure behind his eyes, he had to reassess that.
No, he was better than Mason remembered.
Mason pumped his hips, unable to contain himself as he looked down at Derek. The other man brought his hand up to stroke and rub at the base of Mason’s cock, the place where Derek’s mouth couldn’t reach, and Mason nearly lost it.
Two more quick thrusts, and he did lose it. He didn’t even get the chance to warn Derek that he was coming.
His legs buckled as he moaned, shooting his release down Derek’s throat.