by Lisa Oliver
To his surprise, Cari’s cock tried to make a valiant recovery, surrounded as he was by his mate’s scent full of lust and possession. Bracing his arms on the edge of the tub, Cari’s body shook as Quaid pummeled him. Slapping skin and Quaid’s grunts filled the air, Cari was sure he’d have bruises on his hips when Quaid was finished. But his heart didn’t care.
This was Quaid at his animal-best. Punishing, possessive, driving his claim into Cari’s willing body. When Quaid issued the coup-d’etat, in the form of teeth in his mating mark, Cari’s body responded a second time, a limp amount of spunk trickling down the tub in front of him. Thick seed filled his hole. Cari’s arms gave out and it was only Quaid’s quick arm around his middle that stopped him from cracking his head on the tub.
“Sit.” Quaid sounded as wrecked as he felt. But the big man had enough strength left to turn them both around, and sit down, which was how Cari found himself, still impaled, straddling Quaid’s thighs, the big man breathing heavily down his neck. Any thought of lists completely fled Cari’s mind. Which, he acknowledged as he leaned back on his mate and wiped the sweat from his face, was probably a good thing. His phone would be wrecked in a tub.
Chapter Nineteen
Quaid was preparing lunch two days later when he felt his phone vibrate in his short’s pocket. Glancing over to the living room, he saw Cari was tapping into his phone, a cute little frown on his face. He’d had a conversation with Cari about the man’s obsession with lists, and found out it helped his mate to keep his thoughts in order. Apart from suggesting Cari make a list of questions he might ask perhaps Christian or Dolph about their current situation, Quaid left him to it. He was too busy reading up on every study ever done on white hedgehogs.
Ducking out the back door, Quaid sauntered over to the swimming pool as he answered the call. “Yes, boss.”
“Quaid, how would you and Cari like to join Dolph and I for dinner tonight? We’ve got some things to discuss with you about your situation. It’ll be a black tie affair.”
Quaid immediately stiffened at the words “black tie” – a code word he’d used on countless jobs. Forcing a relaxed tone, he asked, “Is it just going to be us, boss, or are there other guests included?”
“We don’t have many guests staying at the resort at the moment, but a couple of members of the shifter council will be at dinner. Can I tell them we’ll expect you at eight? There’s no need to get Cari to drag out his tuxedo, just a black tie will do.”
Tuxedo. Shit. “Sure, boss. Sounds good.” Quaid’s eyes swept the exterior of the house looking for anything out of place. “Did you need us to bring wine or a dessert, or anything?”
“There’s a delightful bottle of red in your wine cellar. It’s called Flight, Screaming Eagle out of Napa Valley. Bring it along when you come, would you and don’t drop it, it’s worth a small fortune.”
“I know the brand. Thanks.” Quaid disconnected the call and hurried back into the house. Ignoring the lunch items laid out on the kitchen counter, he strode through to the back of the pantry, pulling on a small lever that led to an underground wine cellar.
There was a light switch, but Quaid didn’t need to flick it on to see. The steps were stone, carved out of the rock the house stood on, the air cooler than the outside temperature by ten degrees. The wine cellar itself was a large cavern with floor to ceiling wine racks. Ignoring the wine barrels set out for tasting in the middle of the room, Quaid went over to the Merlot section, his eyes scanning the racks for the bottle he was looking for.
When Quaid first went to work for Christian and Dolph, he’d been amazed to find wine appreciation was part of his initial training. When he complained to Christian, explaining that it was his job to protect clients when they were drinking, instead of imbibing it himself, Christian and Dolph laid out their code and how certain messages could be gotten across through simple conversations about food and wine.
“Black Tie.” Christian was warning him he couldn’t talk freely, but was in no danger himself. If it’d been “Bow Tie,” which meant Christian was being held against his will, Quaid’s actions would be different.
“Tuxedo” was the company’s universal code for “get out.” Everyone who knew Christian and Dolph well were well aware they’d never wear a tuxedo unless they had a gun to their heads. The power couple attended celebrations, events and parties held by the richest and most powerful people in the world, but the most dressed up they’d ever be was in a three piece suit – custom made Armani for Christian, and Hugo Boss for Dolph.
The wine classification was more complicated, but Quaid knew a Merlot would point him to the means to make their escape. Sure enough, pulling out the bottle Christian described, Quaid felt in the space behind it. He found a small black bag containing a phone and car keys. Powering up the phone, Quaid noticed it was fully charged which meant it hadn’t been there long. He quickly opened the Message app and read the single message left from a private number.
Two clicks north west. Follow road. Code 2497. Steakhouse. 2am.
Quaid looked at his watch, it was just after one in the afternoon. They had twelve hours to kill before the planned meet up, but Quaid couldn’t risk hanging around the estate. Just because Christian said the council were coming for dinner at eight, didn’t mean they weren’t already on the Fort’s grounds.
“Are we having wine with lunch?” Quaid looked up to see Cari hovering by the door way. “I should probably tell you, it’d be wasted on me. I puke something fierce if I drink any alcohol as Lucy found out the first time she tried to make me drink beer.”
“We have to go out.” Quaid quickly put the bottle back in its place, pocketing the phone and keys. The two days of seclusion had worked wonders on Cari. His face was more relaxed, he laughed more and their love making had been off the charts good. Sure, the little guy still liked making his lists and sometimes asked Quaid the strangest of questions like which way did he prefer to hang the toilet roll on the hanger, but Quaid was learning there was nothing wrong with Cari’s quirk – the man just retained things better when they were in list form.
It was Cari’s relaxed carefree expression that sent his guts churning. He was going to have to be the asshole responsible for removing it. “Christian sent a message. Our safety’s been compromised. Pack your bags. We’ve got to go. Now.”
To his credit, Cari didn’t argue, he didn’t say a word as he turned and went back up the stairs. But his slumped shoulders, and the look of fear Quaid saw before Cari turned away was enough to make him feel like shit, even when none of what was happening was his, or Cari’s fault for that matter. Christian mentioned the shifter council. That was a worry. If they decided his sweet mate was a danger to the shifter population, then neither he nor Cari would be seen alive again.
Glancing around to make sure nothing was out of place, Quaid followed his mate up the stairs.
/~/~/~/~/
Picking up his phone from the couch where he’d left it, Cari glanced at the list he’d been compiling. “Places where we could live in safety.” The Fort was the only item on the list. Quaid might be thinking Cari wasn’t aware of the danger they were in, but Cari had been thinking about it and more importantly, what could be done about it. Because they were fated mates, Quaid would die without him, otherwise Cari would have fled as soon as he’d heard what Christian and Dolph told them the day they met. But if they were having to face the consequences of Cari’s genetics together, Cari wanted his mate safe.
Hitting the delete button on the Fort entry, Cari accessed another list, aptly named “Things to ask my mate,” and typed angrily, “How long will it be until we are safe?” Hearing Quaid’s footsteps coming through the kitchen, he went into the bedroom and pulled out the long bag Quaid had originally packed for him. Grabbing his neatly folded clothes from the two drawers in the dresser, Cari thought of the irony of his situation. Here he was, a man with almost two billion dollars in the bank, and his life possessions fit in one bag.
Mov
ing quickly to the bathroom, Cari gathered up the few toiletries he had, casting a fond glance at the large tub. Out of all the things in the house, he was going to miss that the most. Blinking hard to stop his tears, because he refused to cry, Cari went back into the bedroom and finished his packing. The closing zipper noise sounded like a death knell to Cari – the death knell on his relaxation and safety. He hoisted the bag onto his shoulder.
“It’s going to be all right,” Quaid said calmly, but Cari noticed he’d changed out of his shorts, and was wearing the black pants and black shirt he’d been wearing when they met. “I need you to follow me, stay as quiet as you can, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”
Cari didn’t say anything, just nodded. As he followed Quaid out of the house, he was surprised to see Quaid ignored the car parked out front, and instead set out across the swimming pool area towards the trees that ringed the property. Gods, I hope he doesn’t plan on taking me camping, Cari thought with a shudder. His shifted form was happy among falling leaves and forest debris, but he preferred something softer to sleep on, like the massive bed back in the house they were renting.
Renting. “Oh, my gods, the bill,” Cari whispered, coming to a stop, although he looked around to make sure he wasn’t overheard. “You said this house was expensive, and we haven’t paid for it yet.”
Quaid’s shoulders tensed and when he turned, he had that expression Cari was starting to call, “mate has said something silly again.” Sure enough, Quaid’s tone, when he spoke, was calm but laced with impatience. “The first rule of being on the run, is focus on where you need to go, not where you’ve been.”
“But….” Cari had never had an unpaid bill in his life. His utility accounts were always in credit. He never took something he hadn’t paid for. It just wasn’t in him.
Quaid held up his hand. “Second rule of being on the run, is listen to me and don’t argue. If you’re that worried about the damn bill, then speak to Christian about it later, but for now, follow me and absolutely no talking until I say it’s okay.”
That’s one way of winning an argument, Cari thought, following Quaid’s rapidly moving back. Forbidding me to speak is the only way you’d get the last word, mister. He stuck his tongue out, knowing Quaid couldn’t see him, and then felt childish. His mate was trying to keep him safe and the least Cari could do was follow along like a good little lamb. It’s a shame I wasn’t a lamb, at least then people would expect my shifted form to be white.
Chapter Twenty
Quaid was starting to get a little worried about his mate. He knew he’d been harsh, cutting Cari off when they were leaving the resort grounds, but his lion was on high alert and he needed to keep his wits about him, making sure they weren’t followed. One of the bullet-proof town cars Quaid had used in the past to passenger client’s around was waiting, just where the message said it would be and after following the road, the code let them out of one of the back gates to the resort.
The steakhouse, another code word for one of Christian’s many safe houses, was an hour’s drive away. Cari hadn’t let Quaid help him with his seat belt when he got in the car, he hadn’t said a word during the drive. The steak and cheese toastie Quaid bought him from the drive thru, paying cash so it couldn’t be traced, had sat on Cari’s lap until they reached the safe house, when it was put on the kitchen counter and ignored. In fact, the only thing Cari had done, apart from follow orders, was act like a statue. Something he was very good at, Quaid noticed.
“You might want to get some rest,” Quaid said, some six frustratingly long hours later. He and Cari were sitting on a lumpy couch watching television after having a meal Cari wouldn’t eat. He refused Quaid’s overtures for a cuddle and stared blankly at the screen the whole time. He wasn’t even busy typing out new lists. “Our call or meeting with Christian is at two in the morning. It might be an idea to get some sleep before then.”
A nod was the only indication Cari heard. But his mate stood up, walked over to the kitchen bench. Quaid heard the tap running and assumed Cari was having a drink of water. Moments later, Quaid heard the bedroom door close.
“Shit,” Quaid hissed, leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. He knew it was scary for any innocent to have to up-stakes at a moment’s notice and go on the run. Quaid was worried enough for both of them, and he was used to being constantly on the move. But Cari was a homebody, who enjoyed a routine life and knowing what was going to happen from one hour to the next. Quaid noticed how Cari preferred all his meals at the same time of day, he showered in the morning at seven thirty as though he was still going to work, he even crapped regularly. Over the past few days, Quaid had tried to distract him from his routine, just as a joke, and unless he was balls deep in Cari’s ass at the time, Cari did not appreciate it. In fact, he got right prickly about it.
Quaid mentally grinned at his little pun. It was only just after eight. He could go into the bedroom, pour on a bit of his lion’s charm, maybe encourage Cari to learn about giving blow jobs, and they could still get enough rest before Christian and Dolph turned up. His dick thought it was a good idea.
Safety first. Quaid checked all the doors, locks and alarms were working as they should be. The steakhouse used to be a roadside restaurant, until the traffic from the highway it was on was diverted with an expressway some ten miles east. Christian had bought the building and the surrounding land, converting the restaurant into a single story dwelling with plenty of storage for weapons and communications. There were two bunk rooms and two master bedrooms, all fully equipped with everything needed for a long stay. During his past stays, Quaid had dossed down in the bunk rooms, but tonight he was looking forward to cuddling up in bed with his mate.
Confident, everything was as secure as it could be, Quaid set the alarm on his watch for one thirty. Stripping off, he had a quick shower, making sure to pay extra attention to his cock and balls. A scant towel dry and he was done, his cock bouncing ahead of him as he went into the bedroom. Cari had closed the curtains, but Quaid could still make out a small form on the bed. A curled up prickly form.
Well, damn, Quaid thought, looking down at his eager appendage. You’re shit out of luck tonight. Grabbing a pair of sleep pants out of his bag, Quaid resigned himself to even more frustration as he climbed onto the bed.
/~/~/~/~/
An annoying beep, beep, beep, woke Cari from his restless slumber. He was still in his prickles, a surprise given his mate’s scent saturated his nostrils. Opening his eyes, he found out why. His hedgehog decided sleeping with his nostrils pressed up against Quaid’s arm pit was a good idea? Cari scrambled away as Quaid stretched and stirred, hitting a button on his watch.
“Time to get up,” Quaid yawned, rolling over to face him. “The boss-man will be calling or visiting shortly. You’re going to need to be shifted for that.” Cari didn’t want to shiver when Quaid ran a cautious finger down his prickles, but he couldn’t help himself. What he wanted was to climb off the bed and disappear down the nearest hole, but he couldn’t do that either. It seemed his life was now full of him having no choices, and Cari blamed winning the lottery for that.
If he hadn’t won the lottery, the wolves wouldn’t be interested in him.
If he hadn’t won the lottery, he wouldn’t have needed protection and been introduced to Quaid.
If he hadn’t won the lottery… Yeah, Cari knew he was deluding himself. Quaid was the best thing that ever happened in his crazy life, and the wolves had already been interested in him. He’d just been too naïve to notice it. Mentally sighing, Cari shook his head. It was time to make amends to the one person who did matter. He knew he’d been unfair. Pushing his hedgehog back into the recesses of his mind, Cari let his human half emerge.
“I’m sorry,” he said, curling his hands in his lap, resisting the temptation to stroke Quaid’s muscles. “I’m not handling this very well. I’ve been trying to think of a situation where we might be safe, I thought the house we were at was supposed to
be, and now that’s been taken away. I’m a danger to you, I’m a danger to everybody. I just don’t know what to think anymore. If it wouldn’t kill you too, I think I’d just run off in my shifted form and let someone turn me into road kill.”
That might have been truthful, but it was the wrong thing to say, yet again. Cari was hauled into Quaid’s arms, rolled over and found himself flat on his back with Quaid’s lion peering through his mate’s eyes. “Don’t you ever let me hear you talk that way about yourself again.” The lion added a depth to Quaid’s growl. “You’re not a danger to others, and you sure as hell aren’t a danger to me. Where’s that fighting spirit of yours?”
“I think I left it back in the tub at that house I haven’t paid for yet.” Cari scrunched up his eyes. He did not want to cry. “I’ve never not paid a bill before.”
“Oh fuck, sweetie.” Quaid covered his cheeks in kisses. “I didn’t realize that was such a big deal for you, but I promise you, Christian and Dolph were only joking about paying the bill. I work for them. We’re friends. They’re helping us. They were never going to charge us for staying in their house. Honestly.”
“Do you mean it?” Cari searched his mate’s face for any deceit. Of course, he didn’t find any. He could tell Quaid thought it was a bit weird, him worrying about paying an accommodation bill when they were on the run for their lives, but that was just the type of guy Cari was. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Mates are always honest with each other. Besides, we can probably go back there once this council business is taken care of.”
“Council? What council? You never told me we were running from the council. My gods, that makes us fugitives, rogues. There’s never been a rogue hedgehog before. Their enforcers will catch us and put us in dungeons. We’ll be lucky if we get conjugal visits once a week.” Cari felt himself start to hyperventilate, but he couldn’t stop. “Oh, no, then the guards will watch us while we’re having sex and laugh about my puny body and there’ll be nothing you can do about it because they’ll beat you if you attack them and we won’t have time to cuddle, or…oomph.”