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

by Tara Lain

  “Aw, shut up. I’m gonna watch TV. You stay with the pervert. He makes my skin crawl.”

  “You watchin’ that new cop show?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want to see it too.”

  “I’ll record it.”

  “Aw, shit, I’ll never get to see it.”

  “I’ll call you if anything good happens.”

  Footsteps. The chair scraped. A sigh. The sound of cards flipping on the table. Solitaire, probably. Maybe the guard would fall asleep. Damn, something needed to happen. He had no desire to pay these criminals millions of dollars of his family money. Most of all, he wanted to stop them from hurting anyone else. Like Bruce. Where the hell was Bruce?

  Flip. Flip.

  He needed a strategy. “Hey, would you take me to the bathroom, please?”

  “Shit.” The guy grumbled, but the chair squeaked and footsteps sounded across the floor. This guy was a little easier on the plastic rope—damn, had they used Bruce’s rope to tie Lindsey? Deep Voice yanked his hands free, snapped on handcuffs, and pulled Lindsey from the chair. “This way.”

  The guy held him upright as he took tiny steps across the floor. Finally the guard pushed him onto a toilet seat. He could feel the hole under his butt. Lindsey held out his handcuffed arms. “How the hell am I supposed to use the facilities with these?”

  “Can’t take them off while you’re in here. Not allowed.”

  Damn. So much for that plan. “All right. Pull down my jeans and leave me in peace.”

  “No way. I’ll pull ’em down, but I’m not leaving you anyplace. I’d be a dead man.”

  “You really expect me to pee with you watching?”

  “You’re going to have to.”

  Strike two. He managed to wiggle out of his jeans with the help of the thug. He sat and shoved his cock into the bowl to pee.

  The thug coughed. “Jesus, man, you’re hung like a horse.”

  “Yes. And your point?” He mustered up enough pee to be convincing and jiggled with both hands.

  “Doesn’t that hurt in some guy’s ass? Jesus.”

  “I’ve had no complaints.” He stood and pulled up the briefs with a lot of dancing and tugging. Deep Voice had to help him with the jeans, but finally he stuck his hands under some cold water the thug turned on, then shuffled back to his chair.

  “I’m not like Arni—I mean, the other guy. I fucked a woman in the ass once and I liked it. Can’t imagine it being a hairy ass, but what the hell. A good fuck is a good fuck, right?”

  “I suppose so.”

  The voice came from the other room like a message from the gods. “Hey, asshole, come quick. You gotta see this broad.”

  Lindsey caught his breath and tried not to shake with anticipation.

  “Coming.” Deep Voice tied him tight but fast; then his footsteps sounded rapidly across the floor.

  Stay gone. Stay gone.

  He only had a second. Concentrate. Lindsey took a deep breath and focused on the power that flowed from the moon. Like always, the tingling started in his extremities. Stay calm. If he was overanxious, shifting hurt like blazes, literally. The tingling turned to a deep inner vibration and he surrendered… to… wolfiness.

  Ow. Ow. Fire. Burn. Rip. Urrrrrrr. Paws. Fur. Smell men. Bite.

  Big paws stepped from the bindings.

  Urrr. Shake, shake. The bag flew free.

  See. Bite. Eat. No, hurry.

  The golden wolf shook his head. His fur wavered, trembled, and reformed as a man. Ow, ow, fire, fur, human, free. I’m free.

  Lindsey leaped to his feet, feeling very human. He’d managed to shift without anyone seeing him or the wolf. Good.

  He glanced around. It was a warehouse, but he had no idea where. The sound of the television echoed from the other room. Those assholes were not getting off with a slap on their wrists, but he didn’t need his wolf to take them out. His clothes lay in a pile of tattered denim and silk. The shirt was gone. Maybe he could use the jeans, but he’d have to hold them up. He was better off naked anyway. More spectacular. More surprise. Stealthily, he padded across the big warehouse room toward the television noise. Both men were certainly armed, but they wouldn’t have guns at the ready, and they wouldn’t have wolf-killing bullets. Still, any bullet could kill a werewolf if it hit a vital area. He glanced around and spied a long, thin piece of metal rebar, like that used in construction. Hmm. Good. He stalked quietly down the short hall, carrying his impromptu weapon. A little shock should do the job.

  Laughter came from the room. “Man, look at those gazongas. Those are real. Look at ’em move. I love some bouncy ones.”

  Lindsey took a quick peek around the corner. The TV was on the left wall of a small room. High Voice sat opposite it with his side to the door. Deep Voice had his back to the entrance, the idiot.

  Lindsey took a deep breath and leaped into the doorway. “How about these bouncy ones?” He held out his dick and balls in one hand as he stepped into the room, then lunged forward at High Voice with his rebar. “En garde.”

  High Voice leaped to his feet. “What the fuck?”

  Lindsey parried and thrust with his pseudorapier, then hit High Voice full in the chest with its blunt end and shoved his weight behind it. “Owww.” The sound of wind escaping and a searing crack of bone suggested the thug’s ribs were broken. Good.

  Lindsey whirled, delivered a high punch to Deep Voice’s chin, and the guy fell backward. Lindsey leaped, landed astride the man’s hips, and grabbed his gun. With a quick turn, he pointed it directly at High Voice, who was just reaching for his back holster. Lindsey grinned and set the end of the rebar on the man’s crotch, pressing just a little. “I’d forget about being a hero if I were you. A jail sentence is far superior to death, darling, and never for a moment doubt that I’ll kill you with very little provocation. Of course, we could do a bit of damage first.” He pressed a little harder.

  High Voice scrambled backward and shook his head. “Shit, who are you, man?”

  “Someone your employers will ultimately be very sad they messed with. Sit on this chair.” The smaller of the two men, High Voice hadn’t given up. His eyes shifted as he walked to the straight-backed chair, clutching his chest.

  Deep Voice was regaining consciousness. Lindsey stepped over him to a little metal desk. Staring at High Voice, he opened the drawer. Nothing. One more drawer.

  High Voice leaped up and dove toward Lindsey. One shot, straight into the upper thigh, stopped him. The guy crumpled and fell to the floor. Lindsey pointed the gun at Deep Voice. “Would you be kind enough to get me some packing tape from this desk?”

  “Uh, I don’t know if we have any.” His eyes shifted back and forth between the gun and Lindsey’s dick.

  “Look.”

  The guy scrambled to the desk. Meanwhile, High Voice lay writhing on the floor, clutching his thigh. Those wounds had to hurt really badly, but he’d heal.

  “Uh, is this it?” Deep Voice held up a roll of plastic tape.

  “Yes. Get scissors and wrap your friend’s hands and legs tightly together with the tape. Tight, you understand?”

  The man did as he was told, wrapping High Voice where he lay on the floor. Lindsey pointed at the chair, and Deep Voice sat in it. Lindsey bound him tightly. Finally, he stuck his hand in High Voice’s pocket and extracted the cell phone. First, he dialed Cole. It rang twice.

  “Who’s this?” The soft voice sounded suspicious.

  “Me, darling. I’m in a warehouse. I’m not sure where, but I’m safe and have overcome the bad guys. I’m calling the cops now. I just didn’t want you to think I’d let the, uh, cat out of the bag, so to speak.”

  “Shit, Linds! I don’t care about cats, I care about you. Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I have to call Seth. Love you all. Bye-bye.”

  He hung up the phone. Call Seth. Yes, he had to do that for one highly practical reason: he didn’t know the number of anyone else on the case. And for one highly impractic
al reason: if he didn’t hear the man’s voice soon, find out if he was still angry, he’d die. Just that simple. He’d spent an afternoon with Milquetoast and it got him kidnapped. Now, all he wanted was Seth. Yes, it was impossible, but those were the facts.

  “Zakowsky.” The tone said who the fuck is this?

  He breathed deeply. “Hello, darling.”

  “Shit, Lindsey, where are you? Are you all right?”

  Oh good, he didn’t sound mad. Just concerned. “Yes. I’m afraid I took matters into my own hands again. I’m not quite sure where I am, however, so please trace the call.”

  “We’re doing it. Oh baby, are you really okay?”

  “Perfectly.” He liked the sound of “baby.”

  “Okay, we’ve got the address. We’ll be there in a minute. What happened to the kidnappers?” His breathing changed. Probably walking.

  “I’ve got two of them tied up. If any others arrive, I have a gun, so don’t worry. I’m quite a good shot.’

  “Jesus, you blow my mind.”

  Lindsey smiled.

  Seth’s pace seemed to have picked up. He was breathing hard. He chuckled. “Of course, there are other parts of me I would rather have you blow.”

  Lindsey’s smile spread all over his face. “So you forgive me?”

  Silence. “I’m truly sorry, Lindsey. I didn’t mean the shit I said. Old habits and ways of thinking die hard.”

  Lindsey sniffed and wiped a hand across his eyes. High Voice sneered at him. Asshole. Lindsey kicked him in the leg.

  “Oww. Shit, that hurt.”

  Seth voice got that cop edge. “What was that?”

  Lindsey glared down at High Voice. “Nothing to worry about. You can tell me about your die-hard thinking later.”

  “We’ll discuss it.”

  He grinned and pulled on his balls. “Oh no, darling. I never talk with my mouth full.”

  Seth laughed and Lindsey froze. What the hell was he thinking? Sex with a human on the full moon? He’d be lucky not to bite his balls off.

  “Excuse me.” Shit, they were slow. Seth pushed past the Feebs and ran down the long narrow hall of the warehouse. The hall ended in an open door. He burst through and stopped. One of the FBI dudes ran into his back. The FBI guy named Partridge stood facing the assemblage in the room.

  What a fucking sight. Propped against the wall were two men trussed up with packing tape, one attached to a metal chair. One had a strip of cloth around his thigh. In the middle of the big open room, on a wooden chair, sat one of the older men Seth had seen back at the station. Big, handsome, and distinguished. Around him on the floor was clustered the same group of formidable guys who had confronted Seth. How the fuck did they get there?

  At the center of the floor-sitters were the biggest dude with the silvery hair and his too-beautiful companion. The big guy had taken off his glasses and those eyes were eerie, man, eerie. But all that other shit was wallpaper. Between them sat the most beautiful sight of all. Lindsey smiled up at him, his golden hair falling almost to his bare shoulders, and that lightly muscled, perfect, hairless chest shone in the overhead lights. Some jeans that looked like they’d been attacked with scissors and were now held together with tape barely covered his lower half.

  Partridge had his hands on his hips. “How did you get here before us?”

  The big man tapped his face. “I followed my nose.”

  “Mr. Vanessen, are you okay?”

  Lindsey stood up. In that position, the jeans proved inadequate, and only a half inch of cloth covered the bulge of his cock, while the top of his leg lay naked. “I am, as you see.” He spread his arms wide.

  Seth stared. He was having a heart attack. No way the organ could beat that fast and survive. He glanced at the police and FBI agents around him, then over at the cluster of Lindsey’s strange friends. This was one of those fucking moments. A choice. A big one for him. Everything he’d ever thought he wanted versus Lindsey.

  Shit.

  As in who gave one?

  He pushed past Partridge. “Excuse me.” He cleared the space between them at a trot and scooped Lindsey up into a hug. “I was so worried, I thought I’d die or kill somebody else.”

  Lindsey’s wide blue eyes gazed into his. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

  Behind him, Rickson’s voice announced, “Oh by the way, in case you didn’t know, Seth Zakowsky is gay.”

  The guys laughed, and Seth didn’t care. Some of them probably thought it was great, and some probably didn’t. He didn’t care about that either. He’d never met a guy in his life who did it for him like Lindsey Vanessen, so damned if he’d blow it again.

  Partridge stepped up beside Seth. “Uh, excuse me, Mr. Vanessen, but we need to take your statement while it’s still fresh in your mind.”

  Lindsey glanced his way, then back at Seth. “Certainly. I’d like Lieutenant Zakowsky to be present also, please.”

  Partridge nodded. “Uh, certainly.”

  Lindsey tugged at the ripped denim to get it to cover more of his parts. Partridge looked at the torn jeans. “May I ask what happened to your clothes?”

  Lindsey looked down. “Have you seen Daniel Craig in Casino Royale?”

  “Yes! Dear God.”

  Seth caught his breath. That scene of Bond, naked in the chair, getting his balls beaten, made any guy squirm.

  Lindsey grinned. “Well, like that but without the torture.”

  He gave Lindsey a light sock to the jaw. “Had us going.”

  The blue eyes dazzled. “Sorry. Where do you want to do the questioning?”

  Seth dropped his hands from Lindsey’s shoulders. “Since you’ve had such a hard day, I’d think we could do it at your home. Partridge?”

  “Yeah, I think we can do that.”

  Lindsey smiled. “That would be much appreciated. My mother is frantic, and I’d like to get a few more clothes.”

  Seth leaned in and whispered, “Not on my account.”

  Partridge snickered. “I heard that. Will you drive with me, Mr. Vanessen, since Seth’s choice of vehicle is a bit primitive?”

  “Ah, not at all. I’m sure his conveyance will suit me perfectly.”

  “Then we’ll meet you at your home.”

  Lindsey crossed back to his friends, who were still standing in a huddle like they might have to attack the police at any time. He gave the big guy and the beauty queen a hug and shook hands with some of the others, then came back to Seth.

  “Who are those guys?”

  Lindsey glanced back. “Very good friends.”

  “They came to the station and essentially told me they’d take me out if I didn’t tell them everything I knew about your kidnapping.”

  “As you can imagine, darling, they could easily make good on any threat, but they are quite civilized.”

  Seth glanced at the mountain of big men. “Good thing.”

  He led Lindsey down the long hall and out to the overgrown parking lot, where he’d abandoned more than parked his bike. He pulled the helmet from the handlebars. “Here, put this on. I’m not taking any more chances with you.”

  Lindsey pulled the helmet on over his fair hair. “Not much of a fashion statement, I fear.”

  Seth touched his face above the chin strap. “I’m so sorry for—everything.”

  Those blue eyes gazed into his. “Not everything, I hope. So much has been very good.”

  “And some has been crappy.”

  “You’ll get no disagreement from me.”

  Seth shook his head. “I guess I grew up with this anti-rich-person bias. I think if some poor guy from my neighborhood did the stuff you’ve done—Granny and everything—I’d have thought he was cool and brave. But because you’re rich and powerful, I took it as an accusation that I wasn’t doing my job.”

  “Far from it. I think you’re amazing. But you know as well as I do that the system can be clunky and awkward sometimes.”

  Seth grinned. “You mean because the police hav
e to follow the law?”

  “Precisely.” Lindsey laughed back.

  “We can discuss the pros and cons of law enforcement another time. I just want you to know that I think you’re even more amazing.” He stopped and took a breath. Was he going to say this? Hell yeah. “I’d like to be in your life, if you’ll have me.”

  Lindsey paused and so did Seth’s heart. Then he smiled, but it looked a little sad. “I’d like that.”

  He shouldn’t say it, but—“More than you want to be with that Bruce character?”

  Lindsey cocked his head. “A little jealous, are we?”

  “Viciously.”

  “He said the same thing about you.”

  “Damn. Maybe I can finish the kidnappers’ job.”

  Lindsey touched his arm. “No need. He’s no threat to you at all.”

  Seth glanced at the pretty hand on his arm, then followed it up to the bare shoulders. “Here, take my jacket so you don’t freeze on the bike.”

  “I tend to stay warm, but I’ll take it gladly.” He slipped his arms into the sleeves, and though Lindsey was as tall as Seth, the jacket swam on his slender frame. He hugged himself. “It smells like you.”

  Seth leaned in and captured those full lips with his. The kiss was gentle but ripe with promise. He pulled back. “Wish I could do more.”

  “Oh, you can. Just give it a little time.”

  Shit, that sounded so good. He crawled on the bike, and Lindsey got on behind him. As he started up, he realized this broken-down parking lot could have been heaven with Lindsey’s arms wrapped tightly around him. He really had it bad.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lindsey walked down the wide staircase in fresh jeans and a soft sweater. Energy buzzed under his skin. Shifting did that to him. Going out for a big run right now would be good, but a little tough to explain to the FBI. He sighed. Even tougher to explain to Seth.

  He stopped. What the hell was he doing? He could have just kept the separation with Seth and it would all be done. He wouldn’t have to figure out how to break it off or, even more impossible, tell Seth what he was. But when he’d heard his voice on the phone and Seth apologized, then came running into the warehouse like Captain America, Lindsey’s heart melted. He didn’t want to break it off. He wanted Seth more than anything he’d dared to want in his life. God, he shook just thinking about it. But the “I am a werewolf” conversation stuck in his throat and choked him. He’d have to settle for the moments he could get before it came to that.