Howling on Hold

by E. J. Russell

  Tanner’s laugh died on a gasp when Chase stroked along his rib cage to rest on his hip. “I want to kiss you too.” Then Tanner pushed Chase’s shoulder, rocking him onto his back. “But not just on the lips.”

  Tanner nuzzled Chase’s neck, but when Chase felt a hint of teeth, he put his hand on Tanner’s chest. “No biting. And we’ll need the condoms. We can’t claim one another.” Chase pulled back until he could see Tanner’s eyes. “No mating bite, and no internal exchange of fluids other than spit.”

  “I know the rules, Chase. I’m not totally green.”

  Chase raised his eyebrows. “So when you said you didn’t know what to do on the bed . . .”

  “I might have been exaggerating.” Tanner’s smile faded into uncertainty. “But not much. I don’t have a lot of experience. Or any, for that matter.” He peered at Chase uncertainly from under a wayward lock of hair. “Not like you.”

  “Me? I don’t have much more. Some. I mean, I’m not a virgin.”

  “Have you, you know, done that?”

  “You mean fucking?” Tanner nodded. “Yeah. But not often.”

  “Did you, um, pitch or catch?”

  “A little of both. They both have their good points.”

  Tanner’s gaze dropped to Chase’s shoulder. “Males or females?”

  “A little of both.” Chase tangled his fingers with Tanner’s. “A very little when it came to women. There aren’t that many were females, for one thing, and most of them are too smart to waste their time with juniors. They’ve got better things to do.” Chase grinned. “The alpha males might think they run the compounds, but they’re sadly mistaken.”

  “I wouldn’t know. Since my mom died, our pack doesn’t have any females.”

  “Really? None at all?”

  “Including me, our pack only has eight people. All males. I think my uncle has been negotiating with one of the Idaho packs for a mating alliance. For me. For when I go back. But I don’t want it.”

  “Wait a minute.” Chase pushed up on his elbow, the better to see Tanner’s face. “Is that why you ran? Because you don’t want to mate some stranger for the good of the pack?”

  A muscle ticked in Tanner’s jaw, but he met Chase’s gaze, fire burning in the depths of his eyes. “I thought you said we didn’t have to think about the future.”

  With more strength than Chase would have credited, given Tanner’s thinness, he pulled Chase on top of him, spreading his legs to cradle Chase between them.

  Moon and stars. Chase’s brain stuttered, derailing any thought except that Tanner was underneath him, skin touching skin from chest to toes, their cocks aligned and throbbing. The future can go fuck itself.

  Chase dove down for a kiss—no teeth, but plenty of tongue, and Tanner didn’t shy away from it, moaning into Chase’s mouth as they learned the way of each other, the taste of each other. Chase’s hips flexed involuntarily, and a moment later they were both frotting desperately, until Tanner tore his mouth away from Chase’s, threw his head back, and inhaled on a gasp.

  The line of his throat. The beat of his pulse just there. Chase’s teeth ached with the need to bite, to claim, to join. His heart threatened to escape, too full, too light for his chest to contain it. Tanner’s right. It should be our choice. Our hearts, not politics, not destiny. He buried his head in the curve of Tanner’s shoulder, his growl rumbling in his chest. His teeth grazed Tanner’s neck, and although he resisted breaking the skin, Tanner cried out as if he had.

  Chase felt Tanner’s cock pulse, felt the spread of warmth between them, smelled the tantalizing earthy scent of Tanner’s jizz. Two more thrusts into the slippery heat and Chase was coming too. He muffled his howl in another kiss, Tanner’s hands scrabbling on his shoulders to hold him tight.

  As Chase came down from the high, as their kisses scaled from frantic to tender, he was certain of one thing: He’s mine. Tanner’s mine.

  “Are you okay?”

  Chase’s voice was concerned, but Tanner couldn’t form words yet. He was probably gaping like a carp shifter—assuming there were such things. So instead, he nodded. But then Chase pushed up onto his hands and knees, cool air wafting between them and making Tanner shiver. He’s leaving? Tanner tried to grip his shoulders and pull him back.

  Chase chuckled. “I’m getting something to clean us up. I’ll be right back.” He scooted off the bed and padded out the door. A moment later, Tanner heard water running in the bathroom down the hall.

  I just had sex with Chase. Tanner glanced down at his body, wincing at his way-too-prominent ribs. He swirled a tentative finger in the mess on his belly. What part of that was him and what part was Chase? He shot a guilty glance at the door. Do I dare? Sharing body fluids was a mating ritual, but how much of it was physical and how much was spiritual? If I taste this, taste us, I might be spoiled for anyone but Chase forever.

  He laughed weakly. Right. Like that ship hasn’t already rounded Cape Horn. Screw it.

  He touched his finger to his tongue. This is what we taste like together. Tanner closed his eyes, trying to commit that taste to memory—a little salty, a little bitter. He stifled a giggle when he remembered Dr. MacLeod’s lectures on flavors. No umami here.

  “What’s so funny?” The mattress dipped under Chase’s weight.

  Tanner opened his eyes. “Oh nothing. I was wondering how Dr. MacLeod would react if we asked him to analyze the tastes in semen.”

  Chase snorted and began running a warm, damp cloth over Tanner’s chest, belly, and groin. Oh hello. Tanner’s dick liked that a lot. “Maybe we should suggest it. Strictly for science of course.”

  Tanner’s smile stuttered. I probably won’t have a chance to ask. After his vanishing act, how likely was it that he’d be allowed to return to the Doghouse, even if he technically had another three months in his Howling?

  “Hey.” Chase folded the cloth and set it carefully on a towel he’d also brought with him. “Where’d your smile go?”

  Tanner shook his head and forced a smile. “It’s nothing.”

  “Tanner.” Chase sat cross-legged on the bed and took Tanner’s hand, stroking the palm with gentle fingers. “Don’t try to bullshit me.”

  “Is that the RA talking?”

  A look of distaste flickered over Chase’s face. “Hells, no. You’re of age. We’re I-don’t-know-how-many miles from the Doghouse. This is just me, Chase, the guy you’ve had some pretty awesome sex with—and who’s hoping for some more in the very near future.” He smirked, glancing at Tanner’s rapidly expanding dick. “Looks like you wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

  Tanner gasped a laugh when Chase ran his finger across Tanner’s hip bone. “N-no. Definitely not.” He rested his hand on Chase’s knee. I can do this. I can touch him. Anywhere. I’m allowed. At least for now. “I was thinking that I’ll probably have some consequences to face once Mal comes to fetch me.”

  Chase winced. “Shit. I forgot to tell you. I called your uncle.”

  Tanner’s dick wilted as if he’d gotten doused with cold water. “You called Uncle Patrick? Now?” Tanner scrambled upright. “Why?”

  Chase gripped Tanner’s shoulders. “Of course I didn’t call him now. But the morning I got back from suspension, when I found out you hadn’t been back to the house, I called to see if you’d returned to the compound.”

  Tanner tried to slow his panicked breath. “But you didn’t tell him I was missing, right?”

  Chase grimaced. “No. Furthermore, he didn’t inquire as to your whereabouts. But he said as soon as the roads clear after the latest snow squall, they’ll be moving you home. So even though there hasn’t been an outcry, Wallowa weres will probably show up to help you pack about the time we get back.”

  Tanner drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. “I don’t want to go back.”

  Chase scooted around until he was sitting next to Tanner and wrapped his arms around him. “I know.”

  “But that’s not the only reason I ran away.
” Cuddled against Chase’s shoulder, his head nestled against Chase’s neck so he didn’t have to meet Chase’s eyes and see dawning skepticism, Tanner said, “I think my cousin is trying to hurt me.”

  Under Tanner’s cheek, Chase tensed. “Hurt you? How?”

  Tanner’s heart sank. He’d been met with disbelief from his parents when they were still living, his mother distracted with pack finances, his father sorting out problems at the mill. Maybe it hadn’t been disbelief so much as absentmindedness or “One more thing to deal with.” Uncle Patrick had believed him and disciplined Finn, but that had somehow made it worse. It had turned Tanner into a bleater—a sheep, not a wolf. Someone who couldn’t fight his own battles. But to see that expression on Chase’s face too? Tanner couldn’t handle it. He started to pull away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll just—” Tanner swallowed against the cry that battered against his throat. “Do you want some stew? I can heat it up.”

  “Tanner—”

  “Some biscuits? We didn’t have any before and they looked good. Maybe—”

  “Tanner.” Chase lunged across the bed and caught Tanner’s hand before he could escape. “Don’t.” He rolled to his knees, bracketing Tanner’s hips, and pulled Tanner against his chest. “I know,” he murmured, his breath stirring the hair over Tanner’s ear. “I know your cousin used to bully you.”

  Tanner tensed. “You do? But—”

  “Hector mentioned it.”

  Tanner clenched his eyes shut. The Umatilla pack occasionally ran with the Wallowa, and while the adults were ranging the woods, the pups and juniors remained in the compound. Hector probably witnessed some of Finn’s early dirty tricks, although he’d gotten awfully adept at hiding them as they’d gotten older.

  “I learned to deal with it.”

  “You shouldn’t have had to learn to deal with it. He shouldn’t have done it in the first place, and the target is never at fault in bullying situations. Victim-shaming is reprehensible.”

  “My uncle never did that. He always took my side. But everyone else?” Tanner shrugged in Chase’s embrace. “That’s not how an alpha is supposed to behave. Not even a junior. Not even a pup.”

  “That’s bullshit. But let’s set that aside for now.” Chase scooted over and patted the mattress. “Sit with me. Tell me why you think he’s trying to hurt you now. Isn’t he still at the compound in Imnaha?”

  Tanner crawled over to sit against the headboard next to Chase. He left some space between them, but Chase closed it, slinging one arm across Tanner’s shoulders and pulling the bedclothes over both their laps with the other. Tanner closed his eyes, taking a moment to enjoy the heat of Chase’s hip against his, the roughness of his leg hair where it rubbed Tanner’s thigh.

  “After I left the Bullpen that night, I was crossing Broadway when this black sedan pulled away from the curb without its headlights and nearly hit me while I was in the crosswalk.”

  “Remus’s blood,” Chase muttered.

  “I thought it was only an accident. It was night. I was wearing black. They didn’t have their lights on.”

  “Broadway isn’t exactly unilluminated, even at night. There are streetlights. Traffic lights. Especially in the crosswalks.”

  “It shook me a bit, but I didn’t think any more about it. Then when I was walking up Jefferson, a black sedan drove by really slowly. I thought I recognized it by a dent on the trunk, so I went closer. The driver was one of the pack enforcers. Finn was in the passenger seat. He saw me. He stared right at me. So I ran.”

  “Do you think that car was the one that nearly hit you?”

  “I don’t know. It might have been. But I’m probably imagining things, right?” Tanner sat forward so he could peer into Chase’s face, to see the reassurance that had to be coming. “They were probably there to pick me up and take me ho—” No, not home. The compound wasn’t home and never had been. “Back to the compound.”

  Chase’s expression was solemn, maybe even a little grim. “But you didn’t think that, did you?”

  Tanner gazed down at his fingers, worrying the edge of the comforter. “That had to be it. I overreacted. I didn’t want to go back, so I used it as an excuse.”

  “Tanner.” This time Chase’s tone was so tender Tanner wanted to whine like Jordan in Frisbee withdrawal. “Part of being an adult were is learning to trust your instincts. You thought you were in danger. Whatever other reasons played into it are irrelevant. But here’s the thing.” Chase tipped Tanner’s chin up with one finger. “If Finn was there to pick you up, why didn’t he raise an outcry when he couldn’t find you? Why did your uncle still think you were at the Doghouse? Tomorrow, if Mal doesn’t come back, I think we should contact him and tell him about this. It could be important.”

  Tanner nodded. “Sorry for spoiling the mood.”

  Chase kissed Tanner’s cheek, behind his ear, the curve of his shoulder. “That’s the great thing about being newly adult weres. The mood can change in a heartbeat.”

  Considering the way Tanner’s heart was attempting to stage a daring escape from his rib cage, Chase probably had a point. And when Chase’s hand trailed over the comforter to rest on Tanner’s chest, Tanner’s dick did its level best to punch through multiple layers of cotton and goose down.

  Tanner kicked off the bedclothes. Chase’s dick looked as raring to go as Tanner’s, so Tanner scrambled to his knees, then straddled Chase’s lap. Chase’s breathy laugh made Tanner pause. “Is this okay? Should I have asked first?”

  “For now, unless I say no, everything is okay.” Chase bracketed Tanner’s face with his hands. “Can I assume that goes for you too?” Tanner nodded. “If you change your mind at any time at all, say so and we’ll stop. No harm, no foul.” He smiled crookedly. “Blue balls notwithstanding.”

  “Okay, then. In that case . . .” Tanner eased forward, breath catching in his throat when his dick was trapped next to Chase’s between their bellies. “I know it’s stupid—”

  “Nothing’s stupid.”

  Tanner kissed Chase’s palm. “This might be. But it’s almost like the orgasm doesn’t even matter. It’s everything else—the kisses, the touches, the closeness—that matters. Coming is almost like an afterthought—and I almost don’t want it to happen because then it will be over.” He ran his hands over Chase’s chest, the golden pelt soft and springy under Tanner’s fingers. “Why is it such a big deal? Why is everyone always in such a hurry to get there?”

  Chase’s laugh was still breathless. “Maybe because our prehistoric ancestors had to worry about predators sneaking up on them while they were doing their best to increase the size of the pack. Maybe we’re hardwired for instant gratification. But I’ve got to say . . .” He trailed his fingers across Tanner’s back with a hint of nails. “I wouldn’t mind if this went on forever.”

  The windows were gray with predawn light when Tanner awoke, Chase spooned behind him, one leg and arm slung across him. Although he never wanted to move again, the tremors in his hands and the prickles under his skin were a warning. Time for another dose of the withdrawal potion.

  Moving slower than a sloth shifter, he eased out from under Chase’s embrace. Chase growled in his sleep, pawing the mattress where Tanner had lain. Even in the dim light, Chase was beautiful. Blond hair tousled, long lashes fanned against his cheekbones—and a hickey red against the pale skin of his throat.

  I should feel remorse or embarrassment about that, shouldn’t I? He checked his emotional temperature. Nope. Not a speck. Instead, he wanted to puff his chest out and strut like any other alpha-potential asshole who couldn’t wait to share his exploits and play sexual one-upmanship with his cronies.

  He settled for pressing a kiss on Chase’s forehead before trotting out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. He grabbed a vial of the potion and downed it while standing naked at the counter.

  Then a sound from outside made him nearly drop the little bottle. Shoot. Mal could show
up at any time. Ted could come home. Ted might already be home. Tanner had slept so soundly he probably wouldn’t have noticed a herd of elephant shifters stampeding up the stairs.

  He scrabbled in the Stuff ’n’ Things bags for his second set of clothes. He paused, his briefs in his hand, staring with longing at the darkened bathroom. But as much as a shower was tempting, especially in the spa-like bathroom that was so incongruous in a mountain cabin, he didn’t want to wake Chase with the noise. Time enough for that later. He stepped into his briefs, smirking as he snapped the waistband in place. Besides, if I’m lucky, we’ll just get messy again.

  He finished dressing, then filled a bear-sized mug with water, grabbed three leftover biscuits, and crept across the cabin onto the porch in his stockinged feet.

  The morning was still, nothing so much as a whisper of a breeze to stir the trees or ruffle the lake waters. The sky was just pinking behind the hills, the lake reflecting it so it looked like the dawn was breaking above and below. Tanner settled on the top step, setting his glass beside him, and munched on a biscuit, letting contentment wash over him.

  He oughtn’t to feel at peace. Yes, he’d gotten what he’d wanted for so long—intimacy with Chase—but they’d both acknowledged that it couldn’t last, not with their respective pack responsibilities looming over their heads. Maybe “peace” is the wrong word. Tanner picked up the second biscuit. Maybe it’s more like . . . fatalism.

  The best thing in his life was behind him, yes, but so many people didn’t have even one perfect day to remember, to sustain them through years of duty and loneliness. I should be grateful.

  An inquisitive squirrel—who had to be pretty fricking ballsy to come this close to a bear’s den, not to mention one with an added two-wolf bonus—scampered to the edge of the porch and rose to its haunches, studying Tanner with unblinking eyes. Tanner stared down at the crumbled mess he’d made of the second biscuit and sighed. He tossed the crumbs to the squirrel, who snatched the biggest one and nibbled it while keeping a wary eye on Tanner.