by Maz Maddox
Cash blinked but wisely just said, “Yes, ma’am.”
Antonio hid his laugh behind a cough and scurried off to bathe.
Cash wasn’t a man who had ever been gobsmacked, but there was a first time for everything.
After scrubbing clean from laying the traps, he returned home to find his clothing had been washed and some salve left on the table for him. The cool minty tingle of the medicine soothed his wound like angel kisses. The burn from the silver ebbed, and the redness around the skin vanished.
The mouthwatering smell of fresh tortillas and spiced meats caused his stomach to roar. Cash had no delusions that if he tried to go sit like he did at breakfast, he was setting himself up for more bullshit. Yet when he tried to settle in for the night and wait for food to be brought for him, he promptly was told by Rosa that if he didn’t hurry his ass to the dinner table, that he wouldn’t eat.
Not everyone was happy he was there, but he wasn’t openly snubbed or bitterly ignored when he sat down. Luis even brought him an ale and sat beside him.
Truly gobsmacked.
By the end of dinner, Cash was drawn into conversations by people he’d never spoken more than three words to. It was a little stiff, awkward at times, but it was there. A slow warmth was starting to heat what had been cold and lifeless for three years. It felt good; like maybe he could find a home there with them.
There was a slow tide rolling over Cash’s pack. It happened so gradually and quietly that he nearly missed it. It was like Antonio was the lighthouse in the storm that brought the pack back home.
Watching Antonio laugh and interact between his packs was impressive. It wasn’t a mystery why people were drawn to his bright smile and warm voice. Cash caught himself leaning in to hear him speak on more than one occasion. After a time, Antonio even tossed his smirk in his direction every so often. It caused a rather embarrassing amount of flutters in his stomach.
Even though the chorus of laughter coming from the table was wonderful, Cash was ready to slip off to finish out his night with some whiskey and his thoughts. He excused himself, gaining some friendly “good nights” as he did.
“Cash,” Antonio’s voice caught him before he could make it all the way home. Cash turned and nodded a greeting.
“Antonio.”
“I just wanted to say thank you for helping get the traps set up today,” the young man said, shoving his hands into his pockets. A dark strand of his hair blew into his face, and he raked it back with his free hand. Stubble was starting to form around his jaw, and Cash became a little fixated on it.
“You drink?” Cash asked, his mouth acting on its own.
“Some.”
“C’mon.” Cash jerked his head toward the house and led the way, pushing the door open and making his way to the kitchen. Antonio followed him inside, shutting the door behind him.
“You didn’t change much,” he said as he glanced around. It hadn’t dawned on Cash that the house he’d been occupying for three years was once Antonio’s. Cash paused as he grabbed two glasses and cleared his throat.
“If you don’t want to stay…”
“It’s fine.” Antonio shook his head and gave him a half smirk. The expression was dancing the line of polite and sorrowful. “What are we drinking?”
“Whiskey.”
Antonio moved to peer at the bottle Cash was holding, then held up a finger to wait. Cash watched perplexed as Antonio opened a cupboard that had been filled with dishware he rarely used and reached up into the wooden fixture. A little bit of Antonio’s tongue poked out through his lips as he shuffled things around, drawing all of Cash’s attention to the little slip of pink.
After some noise and shuffle, Antonio’s full dimple smile appeared as he found the stashed bottle of Minotaur moonshine.
“Well, well. What’s this now?” Cash teased, taking the bottle after Antonio offered it. Popping the cork loose, the smell of well-aged, knock-you-on-your-ass liquor slapped him in the nose. Cash coughed and couldn’t help the laugh.
“Luis and I hid it after we found it in my uncle’s stash. I’ve only had a sip.”
“This is some powerful moonshine.”
“You not up for it?” Antonio cocked a grin.
Cash snorted, poured them each a glass, and passed Antonio his drink as he raised his own.
“Cheers.”
“Salute.” Antonio tapped their glasses together, eying him curiously as Cash tapped his glass to the counter before taking the swallow of the Minotaur moonshine.
Damn if that name was accurate.
The punch was instant, like a Minotaur kick to the chest that lit your belly on fire. Cash let out a hoot and a cough while Antonio inhaled through his teeth in a long hiss.
“Gods in heaven,” the younger man wheezed. “That’s good.”
Cash let out a bark of laughter. “You’re full of shit.”
Despite looking like he had been slapped in the mouth by the devil, the former alpha passed his glass over for more.
“Feeling bold, kid?” Cash gave him another splash.
“Why not?” Antonio grinned as Cash poured himself another shot and held up his glass. “Why do you tap the glass before the shot?”
“It’s to pay respect to the bartender.”
“You’re the bartender.”
Cash gave him a wink. “Cheers.”
“Oh, ok. It’s like that, is it?” Antonio let out a little scoff, grinning all the while. “All right, then. Salute.” They clinked glasses, and Antonio tapped it to the table before downing the second shot.
This time the cocky buck coughed like someone had kicked him. Cash hid his grimace a little better the second go-around.
“One more?” Antonio’s face was caught between a wince and a grin, and Cash let loose a laugh.
“You know, you ain’t gotta prove your belly is iron to me. I could go without a hangover.”
“One more. Then we’ll call it a night.”
The flush of his skin from the alcohol made Antonio’s scent almost have a physical form. Cash tried not to breathe in too deep as he recovered from the drink, but the deep woodsy smell of summer forest and cinnamon was intoxicating. A thrum of desire was starting to sing, and Cash knew he needed to put some distance between him and the younger man.
Cash couldn’t argue with him when he was grinning like that, however. “Sure. One more.”
Chapter Seven
“He thinks he can control the goat...with his mind?” Cash’s words were drawn out to emphasize the insanity of the statement. Antonio was feeling a very warm, happy tingle all over from their drinks and grinned so much his cheeks hurt.
“Hand to the gods.”
“What in the hell could you even do with something like that?”
“I try not to make sense of Luis. It tends to give me migraines.”
Cash snickered, the rumbling of his laugh rolling through his chest. The moonshine had made Antonio way more comfortable with appreciating Cash’s finer features. There was no logical reason why he should even be attracted to the man who had shot a hole through his goddamn shoulder. That was the thing with attraction though. It rarely played by any sensible rules.
There was a way Cash lit his cigarettes that had Antonio warming more than he could blame on the alcohol. The casual roll of his shoulders when he moved the match toward his tobacco made his muscles flex just right. Sweet smoke tangled the deep musk radiating from Cash’s warm skin, and Antonio hated how much he liked it.
If only he could blame this horrifically inappropriate attraction on being drunk. Even though the moonshine kicked his sex drive into gear, it definitely didn’t cloud his mind. He was fully aware of every blissful thing he’d love to do with the giant bastard.
As if the past couldn’t let him daydream in peace, his shoulder pinched as he reached for his glass. With a wince, he switched arms and grabbed his glass with the other.
“It still hurts?” Cash didn’t make eye contact as he spoke, pulling
a long drag from his cigarette. Antonio shrugged a little with his good shoulder.
“Only sometimes.”
Smoke billowed from Cash’s nose like he was a sleepy dragon, and there was a flash of gray eyes as he glanced up. “Can I see it?”
“My scar?”
Cash nodded, his gaze traveling up Antonio’s arm to rest at the sight in question. Apprehension plucked at Antonio’s nerves at the request, but the moonshine helped dull the prick at his pride.
Cash didn’t sound like a man who wanted to see his handiwork. He sounded damn close to mournful.
Antonio unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, not bothering with just trying to expose one shoulder. It was much easier to just get the bothersome thing off his torso than argue with it. Scar tissue marred the skin where the bullet had gone straight through. It was lighter in color than the rest of him, ugly and bumpy from the quick stitch work and trauma.
Cash stubbed out his cigarette in the small tin ashtray on the table before closing the gap between them. Antonio wisely held his breath to keep from inhaling Cash’s scent full force as the man stood mere inches away, but the heat of his skin was practically lighting him on fire.
“Can I ask you something?” Antonio managed, turning his head slightly to try and sneak more air.
“Sure.”
“Why did you challenge me to a gunfight instead of fighting me as a wolf?”
There was a pause, and Cash’s brows furrowed just slightly. “I didn’t want to kill you.”
A stab of anger rippled through Antonio at the jab to his wolf strength, but it disappeared like a breath of smoke. As much as it tore at his pride, Cash was correct. If they would have fought as wolves, Cash would have torn him to pieces.
“You just wanted to run me off.”
Cash didn’t answer, only reached out and touched the scar with careful fingertips. The touch didn’t hurt, but it felt sensitive and vulnerable and caused Antonio’s breath to catch. He’d never allowed anyone to touch his scar, mainly because it was tender and ached most of the time it was there, but now blunt fingertips were tracing the stitch marks. Not just any fingers, but the warm, calloused hand of the man who had caused it.
When Cash ran his fingers ran over the dip in his flesh where the bullet had permanently dented his muscle, Antonio shivered almost violently. The sensation was starting to become too much, and Antonio meant to move away.
“I’m sorry,” Cash whispered.
Antonio jerked his head up. Cash’s gray eyes met his, filled with a rolling storm of pain, determination, and guilt.
“I’m sorry I caused you pain. I’m sorry I took your pack away. But I ain’t sorry I looked after them. I’d do it again. Don’t mistake that. But I’m still damn sorry for this.”
Antonio let out the breath he was holding from the confession. Nothing in the man’s eyes hinted at anything but the truth, and it hurt as much as it gripped at his heart. A blast of Cash’s scent filled his lungs, dizzying him to the point of needing to shut his eyes. Cash caught his good shoulder with one, big hand, and Antonio let out a low growl.
Drinking in the scent of his rival, feeling his hands on his skin, Antonio wasn’t able to hold back the alpha of his nature.
And he didn’t want to.
The air around them shifted almost immediately. One moment he was baring his soul, hoping for a slice of redemption, and the next Antonio was growling. It was pitched deep, rumbling, like a wolf guarding its dinner. It wasn’t like a normal threat from a loner but something deeply powerful and raw.
Cash pulled his hands away, not wanting a fight and unsure what the hell he’d done wrong. Antonio’s eyes flew open, yellow and sharp, pupils blown wide in primal fire. Cash made to speak, to talk him down, but the man’s fists were tangled in Cash’s shirt in a flash.
With his size, Cash had never been manhandled in his life. He’d made the mistake of underestimating how powerful Antonio had become, even with the beautifully sculpted muscle wrapped over his lithe frame. With seemingly little effort, Antonio forced Cash backward until his ass nearly upended the table. Cash scrambled to find balance while keeping the furniture from crashing to the ground.
Antonio jerked him forward and crashed their lips together. Cash grunted in alarm, but his mouth took over before his brain could properly catch up. Lips caught and breaths clashed together, and Cash was overwhelmed with the rich smells of cinnamon and earth.
Another low growl rumbled against his lips as Antonio tested the seam with his tongue. Cash opened for him in response, melting at the strong muscle that demanded to taste him. It was Cash’s turn to let a growl slip free as he tangled his fingers into Antonio’s dark curls, holding him in place as they fed off each other. The sweet bite of moonshine mixed into their kisses, and Cash was drunk on how he tasted.
Nothing about this situation was ideal, and Cash was aware there should have been a part of him screaming for rationality. Each time something in his mind tried to summon a sign of protest, Antonio would lap or suck or bite just right. The moment Cash’s bottom lip was sucked into the young man’s mouth and teased between sharp teeth, Cash’s control failed him.
Cash slipped his hands free of Antonio’s curls to fill them with the younger man’s perfect ass, lifting him off his feet. Antonio wrapped his long legs around his waist and squeezed, rutting a hard ridge against Cash’s stomach. The poor table caught Cash’s weight as he leaned back against it, daring to lick a line up Antonio’s vulnerable neck. A warning growl told Cash to mind his teeth, but he bit down just gently enough to tease and not threaten. The rewarding shiver and jerk of Antonio’s hips spoke volumes of his desires.
“I want you,” he confessed, raspy and commanding. Antonio's eyes had melted from yellow to a honey brown, the rich color a mixture of control and chaos. The way his pupils flexed and his nostrils flared, Cash knew his own must be a storm of gray and amber.
“Get on the bed,” Antonio ordered with a slight snarl, climbing down to shove Cash toward the room in question. “Strip and be ready for me.”
Cash allowed himself to grin wide as he backed away. “Who said you’re in charge here, kid?”
Antonio growled, his eyes flashing promises Cash sure as hell hoped he would keep. Cash did as he ordered, but did so in a leisurely fashion as not to let the power go to the handsome man’s head. Stripping down, Cash crawled onto the bed and propped himself up against the headboard, stroking himself slowly to give Antonio a nice show.
When Antonio appeared at the doorway with a bottle in his hand, his jaw ticked in a way that displayed how well Cash’s show was working. Antonio took his time drinking in the sight before finally making his way onto the mattress and setting the bottle on the nightstand. While Antonio’s torso was bare, his pants still covered his lower half as he grabbed Cash’s hips and jerked him forward. Cash chuckled as he was pulled down the bed, lying flat on his back as Antonio crawled over him.
The sensation of fabric over Cash’s bare skin made him arch against it, craving the friction. Antonio being a sadistic bastard, pulled his hips away to deny him what he sought after but rewarded him with another delicious attack of kisses. Cash hissed as Antonio nipped at his lip, biting his chin, chest, and bicep before working his way lower. Each kiss had a sting of teeth, just enough to make Cash shudder and wiggle under his assault.
“No teeth near the good stuff.” Cash eyed him as Antonio glared defiantly before sinking his teeth into the juncture of his leg and hip. A bolt of liquid hot pleasure mixed with the stinging pain made Cash let loose an aching moan.
Antonio grinned in a way that looked dangerously close to smug.
“Fucker--” Cash choked on his words as Antonio swallowed his straining cock down to the root. Another croak ripped from Cash’s throat as Antonio pulled back slowly, releasing him with an audible pop.
“You’re not in control here,” Antonio informed him, hot breath crashing against Cash’s skin.
“Like hell, I’m not--Sweet G
ods above,” Cash let out in a rush as Antonio repeated his action, running his blunt nails across Cash’s hips before holding him in place. The evil bastard was a machine of pleasure, and his mouth was the portal to hell. Cash started to pant and pray like his damn soul was forsaken with the way Antonio was drowning him in ecstasy.
When Cash tried to grip Antonio’s hair, his wrist was pinned down to the mattress, and yellow eyes flashed from below. Antonio licked a line from his balls to the bed, pausing just under his slit to growl.
Cash nearly came from the sensation.
Antonio was up in a flash, his pants kicked away in a frenzy before he straddled Cash’s lap. He was the picture of desire: dark skin flushed in heat, curls wild, and eyes dancing with lust. Antonio made a show of pouring cooking oil onto their cocks before leaning his hips forward to glide them together. Since the arrogant bastard liked to think he was the alpha in bed, Cash wrapped one hand around each of their oiled cocks and stroked them slowly.
Antonio tried to keep his bossy sneer, but he melted into a whimper as Cash twisted his fist around their heads.
“No growling?” Cash teased, nearly swallowing his tongue as Antonio moved his hips with his motion. The flex of his abs as he rolled on top of him almost made him roll his eyes into the back of his head. Antonio pulled Cash’s hand away and pressed it down into the bed as he moved his hips forward, sliding Cash’s cock against the crease of Antonio’s ass.
He leaned down and licked the shell of Cash’s ear. “I want you to fuck me.”
Chapter Eight
Antonio was so ready to feel Cash inside him he was on the verge of bursting. Cash’s eyes were such a blend of yellow and gray it was like watching lightning dance across a roaring storm cloud. His big, broad chest was heaving, and Antonio found it almost hypnotizing to run his fingers through the soft hair that lined it. Brown hair feathered out against the mattress, giving him an almost angelic look as he gazed up at Antonio.