Wolf in Gucci Loafers (Tales of the Harker Pack Book 2)

by Tara Lain

  He grabbed Bruce’s face in his hand and closed his mouth over the man’s slim lips. Bruce tasted like cranberry, alcohol, and some kind of breath mint. Good that he wanted to hurry. How long until Lindsey could bury his cock? He pushed his tongue in farther and did a strong fucking motion with it.

  Bruce yanked his head back, gazed into Lindsey’s eyes, and gave out a long, slow moan. “Let’s fuck.”

  “Good by me. The bed’s right there.” He pointed to the other side of the huge room, where his king-size sat in an alcove that could be closed or open. Now it was open, with white sheets glistening and the bedspread folded on a bench at the foot.

  Bruce jumped up with his erection tenting his suit trousers. He sprang across the floor, tossing his suit coat on a chair as he went. Lindsey did appreciate enthusiasm.

  The guy had his shoes, shirt, and pants off by the time Lindsey got to the bed. Not a bad body at all. He smiled. “Crew?”

  “Yeah. Can you tell?”

  “Very nice shoulders and back.”

  Bruce preened a little. “Thank you.”

  Lindsey removed his jacket, slowly untied his ascot and dropped it with a flourish on the chair, then unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. Drool, human.

  “Wow. Polo sure agrees with you. How the hell did you get that six-pack?”

  “Karate.”

  His eyes widened. “I guess I better be careful.”

  “Never fear, darling.” He made short work of his socks and shoes, unfastened his belt and pulled down the zipper on his trousers, then dropped them to the floor. With one thumb, he hooked his lavender boxer briefs and pulled them just enough for Bruce to see the tip of his cock. “I only attack upon request.”

  Werewolves had big cocks. Fact of life. No matter how slim Lindsey stayed, his cock occupied more room than his size suggested. A lot more.

  Bruce’s eyes had made it to saucer proportions. “Jesus.”

  Lindsey nodded. “Yes, and I hate to tell you dear, but I like to top.”

  Bruce swallowed hard. “That’s okay. I’m a bit of a size queen. If you’ve got lots of lube, that is?”

  Lindsey waggled his cock as he stepped out of the pants and briefs pooled around his feet. He walked to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and removed a bottle of lube. “Large economy size.”

  It took some fingerfucking to get Bruce ready, but finally Lindsey had the man on all fours and his cock poised. The condom was just for show, but show it was. Extra large. “You ready?”

  “Hell yes.”

  Lindsey pushed.

  “Ow.”

  “Breathe out, darling.”

  Bruce did, and the big cock slipped past the ring of muscle. Okay, it felt good. Good enough to make him come. Not good enough to make him freak.

  “Oh man, baby, that is so good. Wow, you are huge. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

  Lindsey did, pumping like crazy. It didn’t matter where his cock was. It felt good. Not like it would if he was inside that guy from the parking lot. Holy God, what would that be like? Hot, boiling. That guy would bite and spit if Lindsey tried to shove his cock in him. Yeah, he’d have to hold him down and fuck his brains out before he gave in. Lindsey’s chest rumbled and his hips hammered and hammered.

  Bruce pushed back but looked over his shoulder at Lindsey. “What did you say?”

  Damn, take a deep breath. “Nothing. I just hum when I’m happy.”

  He laughed. “Sounded like a growl, you sexy beast. Fuck me, Lindsey. Fuck me!”

  Lindsey pounded like a jackhammer, reached around to crank the man’s cock, and forced himself not to think of gorgeous animals in black leather and tight denim.

  Chapter Two

  Lindsey pulled in to the dirt lot at the Way Station. It was early—for a werewolf, anyway. He didn’t need a lot of sleep, partly due to his wolfy genes and mostly due to his type A drive to try every damned thing there was. The orgasm had been good—satisfactory—and he sent Bruce off with a kiss and pat on his butt. Then he’d changed the sheets and tried to sleep. No luck. Mysterious eyes surrounded by curly hair kept creeping into his mind. Distraction required. He’d pulled on some jeans and a sweater and headed for the unofficial werewolf bar. Maybe he’d catch Cole.

  He hopped out of the Tesla. On the porch, he pushed open the big wooden door and got hit by wolf smell. Though humans came here too, this bar at this hour meant werewolves.

  He glanced around the big, crowded room. A couple of Harker pack members waved. He’d join them if—

  He smiled. The giant alphanta werewolf leaned back in his chair on two legs, facing away from Lindsey. Lindsey threaded through the tables, slapping high fives with a few friends. High fives were so not his style, but the wolves seemed to like them. He tiptoed up behind Cole. The alphanta could hear bubbles bursting in a pond a mile away and smell a wolf in the next state, but he’d humor Lindsey. Linds slipped his arms around Cole’s neck and hugged him.

  “Hey, buddy.” Cole stood, lifting Lindsey on his back, twisted him around to the front, and gave him an embrace. Every werewolf in the club knew both Cole and Lindsey were gay, but they pretty much ignored it. Cole put him back on his feet and indicated a chair.

  Lindsey sat and nodded to Alf Cotswale and Jim Joyner, Cole’s right and left hands in the pack. “Hey, guys.” He glanced around. “Where’s my favorite kitty cat?”

  “Touring.” Cole made a face.

  “How can you bear to share him with his adoring fans?”

  “Fortunately, I know just how reclusive he is. That panther interacts with no one. They just drool over him on stage.”

  Lindsey laughed. “But his drooling fans have no idea just how exotic that exotic dancer is.”

  Cole nodded. “So true. Your date didn’t go late. Did it go well?”

  “Well enough.” He grinned. The waitress came over, and he ordered white wine. Even with his metabolism, too many martinis were contraindicated. He had a big political fundraiser tomorrow.

  When she left, Cole cocked an eyebrow at him. “So your mom set this date up. Is he the crème de la crème of Connecticut society?”

  Lindsey shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Did you like him?”

  “A tad tame for my taste, but the short evening ended satisfactorily.”

  “You devil. You come off like an English drawing room play, but you are so not.”

  He nodded. He wouldn’t elaborate on how true that was. He trusted his friend implicitly, but Cole was alphanta werewolf, and probably the next alpha. Cole was all about pack. “Uh, on a different subject, have you heard anything about the kidnappings from the rich families?”

  Cole frowned. “Yeah. Nasty business.”

  The waitress brought his wine, and he smiled and handed her a twenty. “Keep the change, darling.” She beamed and walked away.

  Cole looked at Lindsey. “I wish we could help, but you know the rules. We’d show up and somebody would blow our cover to the humans. It would have to be deemed a pack problem before we could get involved.”

  “Yes, I figured that. But if you happen to hear anything, will you let me know? These people are friends of my family.”

  “Of course. I hear there’s both police and FBI on it, which is even more reason for us to stay away.”

  Police and FBI? Hmm. He pictured the men in the parking lot. The two suits had FBI written all over them. The other one? He could handcuff Lindsey anytime. That crooked smile he’d flashed at Lindsey glowed in his mind. Yes, like a red warning light.

  “Lindsey?”

  He glanced up at Cole. “Oh, sorry. Just thinking.”

  “Of something pleasant, if that grin was any indication. That date must have been better than you said.”

  Only in his mind.

  Lindsey nodded at the maître d’, aka bouncer, who guarded the door for the political fundraiser at the Laurel Club in Hartford. The man knew him, so no slowdown. Good. He was running late. Howard Carter, the lieutenant governor, stood inside th
e door talking to a gaggle of political types. He thrust a hand at Lindsey. “Good to see you, Vanessen.”

  “Howard. You know I’d never miss an event of Dave’s.” Lindsey owed the governor big time for saving the Harker and Marketo packs in the war with Eliazer and his goons. Of course, all the governor knew was he had intervened to save some of Connecticut’s prominent families. The wolfy connection was invisible.

  Howard smiled. “We appreciate it.”

  Lindsey nodded with a small smile. “As long as the party continues to represent the interests of the people of Connecticut—all of the people—I’ll be behind you.” Might as well make a few platform points while he was at it.

  Howard smiled with lots of teeth but swallowed hard. His personal leanings fell pretty far right of his colleague, Dave Mendes, so he needed some reminders of where his bread was buttered.

  Lindsey continued into the room. Dave Mendes was already on the platform. The tall, handsome, black-haired guy always had an easy way about him that got votes. But the man’s expression looked anything but easy. Hell, the crease between his eyebrows rivaled the San Andreas Fault. What’s wrong? Lindsey started toward him, but the state party chairperson, Annette Ostreo, walked to the microphone. “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you so much for coming.”

  Annette launched into some blah blah blah about the greatness of the state and how the party was committed to its greatness. Dave just looked weird. Lindsey stared at him until he glanced up. Linds gave him a cock of the head as if to say “What’s up?” The man’s expression went beyond pained.

  Finally, Annette called the governor to the mike. He stepped up and smiled, but anyone who knew him had to see he wasn’t himself. “I have so many friends in this room, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me. From time to time, we get reminded of what’s really important in life. Your friendship is important. I know my colleagues are going to wring your wallets for money today, but I want you to know that it’s your goodwill and kindness that mean the most.” Holy crap, there wasn’t going to be a dry eye in the house.

  “I’d like to outline briefly the plans we have for that money, and then you can decide how deep you want to dig to support them.” He pulled up a paper chart and started writing on it. Funny and folksy in this day of technology. “We need to reach people about education. Here’s what we plan to do—”

  A phone rang. Everyone looked annoyed. Who forgot to turn off the cell? Dave’s face froze. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the ringing phone. “I’m so terribly sorry. There’s a family emergency and I have to leave.” The phone kept ringing. “I’ll put you in Annette and Howard’s capable hands. Please know I would not do this if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.” He clicked the phone and put it to his ear as he hurried off the dais.

  What the hell? Very bad feeling about this. As Dave walked past Lindsey, he gave a slight nod of his head and screwed his eyes toward the door. Okay, follow discreetly.

  Everybody buzzed as the governor left the room, but Annette called them back to order, the waiters stepped up their delivery of drinks, and people’s attention returned to the money- grubbing at hand.

  As soon as attention diverted, Lindsey slipped quietly from the room, then hurried to the parking lot. Dave was just climbing into the limo. “Dave.” He ran up beside the big vehicle. “How can I help?”

  The governor stared at him for a moment. “I’m not sure. You’re good at making things happen, Lindsey, and my wife has fallen apart and I’m practically with her. I could sure use your calm decision-making.”

  Lindsey nodded. “Who’s been kidnapped, Dave?”

  Tears filled his eyes. “My daughter.”

  “Oh holy God, not Carla.”

  He nodded.

  “Shall I follow you home? Is the FBI there?”

  “Yes. They’ve received the ransom notice. Now we need—” Tears dripped and he shook his head.

  Proof of life. “I understand. I’ll be at your house in a few minutes.”

  “You’re sure you can get away?”

  “Of course. Nothing’s more important.”

  “You’re a good friend.”

  Lindsey squeezed his arm and took off running toward the Tesla.

  On his way, he called the office and explained the emergency. Damn, this was the third kidnapping, and so far the authorities hadn’t done squat. These were his friends, and he had to do something. His one big advantage was that people underestimated him. Of course, he was also a wolf, but sadly not much of one. His human blood dampened his wolfy powers a lot. His sense of smell was decent, but he couldn’t shift except on the full moon, and pack law prohibited his revealing himself. He needed to be a stronger human than he was a wolf. Fortunately, that he could manage.

  When he pulled up in front of the governor’s mansion, a lot of plain, government-issue sedans announced that the FBI was in the house. A few feet from the gray nondescripts sat a Kawasaki Ninja. Holy crap, those suckers could do over 175 mph. Somebody wanted to get ahead of the pack. Lindsey shivered. He had a pretty good idea who the somebody was. He didn’t need the distraction—but he wanted it.

  He rang the bell, and the governor’s assistant opened the door. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Vanessen. They’re in the dining room.”

  Lindsey hurried through the entry, past the gracious living room to the expansive dining room. Whoa. Technology central. The police and FBI had computers and listening devices installed all over the huge dining table. People in suits spoke softly and rushed around the space.

  Dave sat in a chair in the corner. God, he’d aged a decade in a few days. He looked up, saw Lindsey, and his face brightened a little. “Lindsey.”

  Lindsey rounded the table to Dave’s side. He pulled a footstool over and sat beside the governor. “How can I help?”

  “Just be here, dear friend. I’m not making the best decisions, and I need a cooler head.”

  “How’s Cathy doing?”

  Dave shook his head. “She’s in her bedroom. Bless her; she can handle anything except a threat to her children.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re not going to let anything happen to Carla.”

  He smelled the arrival of the man before he heard the voice. The smell said sex, power, and danger. The voice? Controlled threat. “And how exactly do you plan to keep that promise?”

  Lindsey’s whole body convulsed with longing. Keep it together. Dave looked up. Lindsey checked the governor’s expression before turning: wariness but general trust.

  Lindsey swiveled around on his seat. Holy God. Like being bathed in lava. Seeing this man yards away in dim light had been one thing, but this was total immersion. For one second, he caught his breath and then stood slowly.

  Almost eye to eye, which made the man about six two. He outweighed Lindsey by twenty or thirty pounds, all in the right places. Biceps strained the blue blazer he wore like a costume more than clothing. Oh God, Lindsey wanted to look down and get the full picture of those powerful thighs, but impressing rather than admiring was on tap. “I believe we can promise that because the kidnapper’s MO has been the safe return of the victims when the ransom is paid. It’s unlikely that these people are thugs. Kidnapping is a very difficult criminality. Both snatching the victims and collecting the ransom are fraught with complexity. That these people have done it three times implies they are both greedy and confident. They don’t want to discourage future families from paying ransoms by hurting one of their victims.” Did he dare? He extended his hand. “By the way, darling, I’m Lindsey Vanessen.”

  The guy cocked half a smile, kind of like the one he’d delivered in the parking lot the previous night. Lindsey still hadn’t recovered from that one. The second might be lethal.

  The man took Lindsey’s hand. His was hard, callused, hot as hell. “Did you work all that out in your pretty little head?”

  The governor stood beside Lindsey. “Seth, you’d better be cautious, my man. Lindsey is a third-degree black belt in karate and
an expert fencer. He’s a bit more dangerous than he looks.”

  The man called Seth cocked an eyebrow. “I’d say he looks very dangerous.”

  What the hell did he mean by that?

  Dave chuckled a little, which was a good sound. “Lindsey Vanessen, this is Seth Zakowsky, one of Connecticut’s finest and a specialist in kidnapping. He’s assisting the FBI since he’s a local expert. Seth, Lindsey is a close friend, and he’s agreed to help me through this. I trust him implicitly and hope you will too.”

  “I’ll try.” Seth Zakowsky looked like his name. Strong cheekbones, cleft chin, arched brows darker than his every-color brown-and-blond hair.

  Lindsey raised an eyebrow. “So, can you tell me where we are in the process? With the kidnappers, I mean?”

  Seth looked at Dave, who nodded. “The ransom demand is three million. They asked for it to be transferred electronically to a bank account in the Caymans. The FBI is trying to crack it now.”

  Lindsey shook his head. “Hard to do. The Cayman banks are tough.”

  Seth nodded.

  Dave gripped his hands together. “That much money is hard. I’m getting it together. They must assume I’m wealthy.”

  Lindsey covered Dave’s hands with his own. “You are wealthy. In friends. I’ll have the money transferred wherever you say in half an hour.”

  Seth snorted. “Shit.”

  Lindsey glanced up.

  “Sorry. That was rude. I didn’t quite remember what Vanessen meant.”

  Dave frowned. He was trying so hard to hold back tears. “I can’t let you do that, Lindsey. Your family does so much for the state, but this is personal.”

  “Your personal help has meant more than I can say to me and my friends. We’ll be honored to help Carla.”

  “Oh God, thank you so much.”

  “Let me arrange it.” Lindsey pulled out his phone and walked to the other side of the room, away from the crowd and away from that divine smell. First he called his grandfather.

  “Of course we’ll help, Lindsey. I’ll call Arthur, and you can give him specific wiring instructions.”