Grave Peril

by Lynn Hagen

  Richie’s stomach took that moment to rumble. He pressed a hand against it, willing it to shut up.

  Cannon moved even closer, which made Richie’s breath tremble. “We need to take care of that.”

  “Of what?” Richie’s hard-on? Because it was raging in his shorts and there was no way to hide how Cannon affected him. Or was he talking about Richie’s grumbling belly? It was hard to say, but from the way Cannon’s eyes flared, Richie was guessing it was his erection.

  At least he hoped so.

  “You make it real hard to keep my hands to myself.” Cannon drew his thick, calloused hand over his face. “How am I supposed to walk away from that?”

  He pointed right at Richie’s tented shorts.

  “You don’t?” Richie had no clue what he was saying, but damn if he didn’t want Cannon in the worst way. The guy towered over him, a goliath, a sexy, dark warrior who Richie wanted a piece of.

  They had chemistry between them. People who’d just met fooled around all the time. Why couldn’t Richie have some fun while Cannon was in town? A fling to remember?

  Cannon’s eyes darkened, watching Richie with intensity as he slid his hand down Richie’s chest. God, Richie was going to melt on the spot. Cannon’s hand felt wonderful and right, and Richie was seconds away from shoving his shorts down his legs.

  But he didn’t have to. Cannon’s fingers slid past Richie’s waistband and curled around his straining cock. Richie sucked in a breath and trembled. Cannon swung Richie around, back to chest, and encouraged Richie to lean into him.

  His large fist pumped Richie’s shaft, using the pre-cum leaking from the slit to lube his hand. Richie groaned, stretching up on his toes, panting as Cannon used his other arm to hold Richie to him.

  This was what he needed, what he wanted. He couldn’t stop himself from grinding against Cannon’s hard body, wishing the guy was fucking him instead. His hole pulsed as Richie began to whimper. His orgasm was already cresting, and they’d been at it for only five damn minutes. He didn’t want this to end so soon.

  Richie flung himself away and twisted around, dropping to his knees, while praying Cannon didn’t think him a complete slut. Did he really care? It wasn’t as though Cannon was sticking around. Why not please them both?

  He looked up at Cannon, who stared intently down at him as Richie fished the guy’s cock out of his jeans. Fuck, Cannon was hung. Richie bit his bottom lip wondering if he could take all of Cannon’s length.

  Cannon brushed his fingers under Richie’s chin. “Don’t make me beg.”

  Although he would’ve loved hearing a guy this huge beg to have his dick sucked, Richie was too wound up. He leaned forward and parted his lips, tasting Cannon for the first time. Musk exploded across his tongue as he took the guy as far as he could without choking.

  “Oh, shit,” Cannon groaned. “Don’t stop, baby.”

  Richie didn’t plan on it. He used the flat of his tongue to trace the length, groaning as the head of Cannon’s cock tapped the back of his throat. Cannon grabbed Richie’s head, placing his hands on both sides, and started thrusting in short bursts.

  Richie gagged but was determined to bring this stud off. He played with heavy weight of Cannon’s balls, tugging at them, slurping and sucking and so damn horny that he just might orgasm from sucking Cannon off.

  “Right there,” Cannon said with a clenched jaw. “Right there, sweetheart.”

  Richie doubled his efforts and was rewarded when Cannon threw his head back and shouted, his cum spurting down Richie’s throat.

  Before he could take it all, Cannon pulled Richie to his feet, made Richie press his hands against the wall, and finished jerking him off. Richie rose to his toes, crying out as Cannon’s fist strangled his cock.

  A few more pumps and Richie was jerking with his climax, hissing and mewling as Cannon milked every last drop from him. In that moment Richie realized that once would never be enough with Cannon.

  Hell, ten times might not be enough. Too bad they hadn’t gone further. He would’ve loved to feel Cannon pounding his dick inside Richie’s ass.

  Richie was already thinking about their next encounter. He was picturing it in his mind. The bed was right there. All Richie had to do was walk over to it and fling himself on it, offering himself to the stud.

  Instead, Cannon stuffed his soft cock into his pants, kissed Richie’s cheek, and walked out. Richie sighed. What the hell was he getting himself into?

  Fun.

  Pure, fantastic fun.

  And maybe afterward Braydon wouldn’t kill him for having sex with the enemy.

  Chapter Four

  As soon as Cannon left Richie’s room, his cell phone rang. He saw it was Cooper calling him and prayed it was good news. “You catch Jimmy?”

  That would be a relief and take a load off Cannon’s mind. The last thing he wanted to do on his vacation was look over his shoulder. He wanted to spend every free minute with Richie, not wonder if a scope was aimed at him.

  It had taken every ounce of willpower to walk out of Richie’s room after what they’d just shared, but Cannon didn’t want to crowd his mate. He wanted to give Richie time to not only shower but absorb what they’d just done.

  “Sorry, Cannon,” Cooper said. “Wish that was why I was calling you. Intel puts Jimmy Koehler in a town called Temptation. I’ve got men heading that way to try and intercept and arrest him.”

  Cannon recalled passing that town on his way here. It was about fifty miles away. This wasn’t a coincidence. Jimmy was heading right for him.

  The best thing, the smartest thing, that Cannon could do was leave town. But if Jimmy knew about Maple Grove, that meant he’d somehow talked with Davila. And if he’d talked with his boss, that meant Jimmy knew about Braydon and Arturo.

  What if Jimmy had a bone of contention with not only Cannon but the other two, as well?

  “Tell me you’re safe,” Cooper said, interrupting Cannon’s thoughts.

  “I am.” Cannon looked around. If he knew Jimmy, and he did, the bastard wouldn’t be coming alone. He’d have some of Davila’s men with him. “I gotta go.”

  Cannon hung up and headed into the motel office. After he paid for an additional week for Richie, he drove to town to the diner. Cannon ran his hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his problem sinking into him.

  It wasn’t just him anymore. If it were, he’d give Arturo a warning and blow town. Maybe let Jimmy see him so he would give chase and leave Maple Grove alone.

  But the problem wasn’t that simple. Not when that meant leaving Richie behind. That was exactly what Cannon should do, but his panther wasn’t having it. It snarled at the idea of leaving Richie to live his life, to be with another man, and the thought brought murderous jealousy to Cannon’s heart.

  “You okay?”

  Cannon looked up and smiled at the waiter behind the counter. “Just trying to deal with this heat.”

  The guy’s nametag read Kenny.

  Kenny had dark hair and pretty blue eyes, and an easy-going smile. “I know how you feel. My boyfriend works out in this weather, and he’s been miserable since the heatwave started. Are you dining in?”

  “No.” Cannon reached for a menu that was sitting on the counter. “I’ll be ordering to go.”

  “Let me know when you’re ready.” Kenny walked away as Cannon took a seat and looked over the menu, but his mind wasn’t on food. It bounced between his problem with Jimmy and thoughts of Richie. He still couldn’t believe he’d been in town months ago and hadn’t known his mate was here.

  Maybe that was why he wanted to return, some sixth sense that led him back to Maple Grove. Whatever the reason, Cannon was grateful he’d come back.

  Now all he had to do was take care of the crooked cop that was after him. That was easier said than done. What if Jimmy went to the local sheriff and spun some story about Cannon being a wanted man?

  Cannon needed to talk to the sheriff and let him know what was going on. He held hi
s hand up, and Kenny came back down the counter toward him. He gave Kenny his order.

  “But take your time. I need to run an errand before I return for my food.”

  “Not a problem,” Kenny said. “Just call ahead and let me know when you’re coming back so your food doesn’t sit around and get cold.”

  With a nod, Cannon left the dinner and headed right for the police station. He knew Deputy Malik Burrows. They’d crossed paths when Cannon had been at Arturo’s house and gotten the thumb drive. He hadn’t met the sheriff, because Cannon had taken off as soon as he’d gone downstairs.

  Now was as good a time as any for introductions, because Cannon would need all the help he could get to take down Jimmy and whoever he had with him.

  * * * *

  “I fucking hate dirty cops.” Grayson sighed as he sat back in his chair, frustrated that the chaos with Davila wasn’t over. He recalled how Davila had gone after Arturo and Braydon, how it had nearly cost them their lives.

  He’d also kept a close eye on the trial as it had unfolded on the television, had heard the news report of how James Koehler had escaped. He just never thought that bullshit would come back to Maple Grove.

  “Temptation isn’t that far from us,” he said to Detective Cannon Treynor. “Your case was tried in Chicago, so if he’s out this way, we can only assume he knows you’re here.”

  Grayson had already been informed by Burrows that Cannon was a panther shifter. Cannon had also told Burrows that his mate was in town and that he wasn’t leaving Richie Irving behind.

  Grayson knew that name. He’d never gone to Pump, but he knew Cosmo. Hell, everyone in town did. Richie was sweet, flirtatious, and helped out a lot in the community. Grayson didn’t want to see anything happen to the guy.

  “I’ll have a deputy keep an eye on the motel,” Grayson said. “I don’t want things getting too far like they did the last time.”

  Not that Grayson blamed Burrows for what had happened. Davila and his men had just gotten the jump, and it had almost ended disastrously.

  And before that, one of the residents, Fisher Allan, had been running from an abusive ex who had nearly killed Fisher’s mate.

  Grayson was sick and tired of all the drama, all the bad guys coming to town. But that was his job, to stop them, and he was damn determined to stop James Koehler and whomever he had with him.

  “I appreciate your help,” Cannon said. “If you don’t mind me asking, Richie doesn’t know we’re mates yet, or about my world. If you could keep that to yourselves until I’ve had a chance to tell him…”

  Grayson nodded. “My lips are sealed.”

  “He doesn’t know about the trouble on my heels, either.”

  Grayson sat forward. “Then I suggest you tell him. The better informed he is, the safer he’ll be.”

  Sometimes Grayson wished the whole world knew about nonhumans. That would make things easier for those who had to tell a human they were mates. Then again, he knew why they kept their existence secret.

  Not everyone would be understanding, and more than likely shit would hit the fan, nonhumans hunted and locked away, experimented on, and whatever tragedy would come out of that debacle.

  One thing was for sure. He would make sure James Koehler didn’t get anywhere near Cannon and Richie.

  * * * *

  Richie woke to someone knocking on his door. It took a second for him to remember he wasn’t at home, but he still felt his heart race when he thought it could be Braydon on the other side.

  He wasn’t sure why he was so afraid of his brother’s anger. Richie normally could smooth things over with Braydon. He was sure he could calm him down if it was Braydon at his door.

  Just to be sure, Richie looked through the crack in the curtains and saw Cannon standing there, a few bags in his hand. Richie must’ve dozed off after his shower. He checked himself in the mirror and groaned. He’d fallen asleep with wet hair, and now it was sticking up everywhere.

  There was nothing he could do about that. Not when Cannon was waiting for him to open the door. Richie prayed it was food in those bags. He was starving.

  After swinging the door open, Richie made a beeline for the bathroom to wet his hair and hopefully make it cooperate.

  “Love the new look,” Cannon said. “It suits you.”

  Richie flipped him the bird before stepping into the bathroom. When he came back out, his hair was halfway decent.

  “Aw.” Cannon grinned while unloading containers onto the table. “I liked the spiked hair.”

  Was Cannon serious or just teasing? Richie wasn’t sure, so he ignored the comment. “That smells wonderful.”

  “Are you talking about me or the food?” Cannon winked as he set the bags on the bed where Richie’s clothes were strewn about. He’d torn the plastic bags open—because he’d stupidly tied the handles into knots—and now his things were everywhere.

  Richie stepped over the shredded bags on the floor to get to the food. “I’m talking about the food, handsome.”

  Richie had told himself not to flirt with Cannon, though flirting was in his nature. He was trying to be on Braydon’s side, to be a supportive brother, but damn it, Cannon was hot, and Richie still wanted a fling with him.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, digging the containers out. Cannon simply watched, his hands on his hips. Richie felt his stare as he popped open one of the containers and smiled.

  “Fried chicken. It smells so good. Did you know the owner of the diner makes everything from scratch?”

  Richie took a bite and moaned as his eyes rolled back. He was putting on a show for Cannon, but the food really was that good. He slid his tongue over his bottom lip.

  “You just gonna stand there or dig in?”

  Something outside the door thumped. Cannon swung around, grabbing for the gun Richie hadn’t seen holstered at his side. How had he missed that bulk? Now that Richie knew it was there, the holster was all he saw.

  Cannon moved to the window and peeked through the curtains. Richie sat there watching, unsure if he should simply be curious or worried. He relaxed when Cannon’s shoulders slumped and he tucked his gun away.

  “Just someone going into their trunk,” Cannon murmured more to himself than to Richie.

  “Are you always this jumpy?” Richie took another bite of his chicken and shoved a fry into his mouth, chewing as he waited for Cannon to join him.

  Richie watched Cannon’s facial expression, the way he moved, the hard glint in his dark eyes. Something was definitely off. Cannon seemed a bit on edge. He drew a hand through his Mohawk and sighed.

  “Habit from the job.” Cannon’s jaw was too damn tight, and he hadn’t acted this way earlier. Something had happened from the time he’d left the room until he’d returned moments ago.

  Richie’s last boyfriend had been a complete train wreck, not that he looked at Cannon as a boyfriend. The point was he didn’t need nor want any more drama in his life. Not the dangerous kind.

  Richie had dated Banner for a month before he’d found out about his boyfriend’s drug problem. He’d also discovered that Banner had been stealing from him. Little things he could steal for his habit.

  Banner had even gone so far as to owe an outrageous amount to his dealer and had begged Richie for the money. Richie should’ve seen the red flags. Banner still lived at home with his mom, had no job, no car, no prospects in life other than his next fix.

  But he’d hidden all of that when they’d first started dating. His excuses had been his mom was living with him—not the other way around—his car was in the shop, he worked from home…

  Lies, lies, all lies.

  It had been Ash, Richie’s coworker, who’d told him who Banner truly was. A good for nothing leech that would drain Richie dry if he didn’t get out of the relationship.

  And now Cannon seemed to be hiding something. Richie doubted it was a drug problem, but he hated secrets. “I appreciate the lunch, but I do need my beauty sleep before my shift tonight.�
�

  “Wow.” Cannon sat on the bed next to Richie. “I’ve never been dismissed so blatantly. Was it something I said?”

  The question was teasing, and Richie was starting to feel as if Cannon used humor as a shield.

  “No, but if I don’t get any rest, I won’t be for shit tonight.” Richie closed his container and set it on the dresser. “And thanks for paying for my room. I’ll make sure you get your money back before you leave town.”

  Richie planned on finishing his lunch but not until Cannon was gone. The guy was a distraction Richie didn’t need. He was also trouble. Richie felt that in his gut.

  “I guess I’ll take my food and go.” Cannon got up and grabbed his container, and Richie felt like a jerk, but he was done with men who had too much baggage. It was just some kind of sixth sense, but Cannon was trouble with a capital T.

  And no fling, no matter how badly Richie wanted it, was worth it. Even if the guy was drop-dead gorgeous and gave Richie a sweet tooth. Nope. He was finished with complicated men.

  * * * *

  Cannon cursed as he walked back to his room. He’d planned on telling Richie about everything once they were done eating, but his mate had given him the boot all because Cannon was twitchy as fuck right now.

  He pulled out his cell phone when it rang. Cannon didn’t recognize the phone number. “Hello?”

  “It’s Deputy Malik Burrows. You got a minute?”

  “Yeah.” Cannon closed his motel room door. “What’s up?”

  He’d left his phone number with the sheriff just in case any of them needed to get in contact with him. It wouldn’t do any good to have the cops helping him but no way to call him.

  “We found an abandoned car close to Falls Bend. It’s the next town over from us. We think Koehler is stealing cars and ditching them as he makes his way here.”

  That wasn’t Jimmy’s style. He’d have one of his men rent a car and drive the distance. The guy was good at keeping himself out of the limelight. That was how he’d fooled everyone for years about working for Davila. Low profile.