Learning Curve

by Jools Louise

  “Dinner,” Slade replied, just as the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” he said, more seriously. “We don’t know who’s about at this time of night.”

  Shark glanced at the wall clock and saw it was after ten. They hadn’t returned to the restaurant after Pace had finished questioning them about Crash and the flowers. They had put the closed sign up and headed home, waiting for news about their friends. They were pretty hungry, though, having been too worried to eat before. He and Oliver watched Slade attend to the food delivery and inhaled the scents of Indian cuisine as Slade took care of the payment and tip, then shut the door again, and began laying out steaming containers of curry, rice, poppadoms, bhajis, and all kinds of delicious food.

  “Hmmm, that smells wonderful,” Oliver said, smiling. “We’re both starving. We forgot to eat earlier, when we found out Mystery had gone missing.”

  “He’s over at the guest house,” Slade advised, looking grim. “Right now, that’s the safest place. He’s still unconscious, and Chill is in a bad way. Bone was unharmed physically, apart from a few bruises, but he’s had a nasty shock. He had to watch everything that Crash did to his friends. They need to rest tonight. We’ll head over there in the morning. I’ll stay here for tonight, if that’s okay.” He glanced over at Shark’s outraged gasp. “On the couch, stud,” he said, rolling his eyes. “My goodness, Shark, you really are too arrogant, thinking that I may be so eager to get into bed with you. I’m not crass, you know.” He plated up and then grinned. “I’ll make sure nothing goes bump in the night, sweetie.”

  Shark looked away, repressing a laugh. “Why don’t we eat?” He sighed, shaking his head when Oliver giggled again. He pecked his lover’s lips softly, watching Slade’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Slade’s dark blue eyes turned molten with lust, and Shark deepened the kiss, hearing Oliver moan softly, his mouth opening as he accepted Shark’s foraging tongue. Shark tugged his mate closer, enfolding the slim shifter in his arms, losing himself in his lover’s taste. Oliver was pliant and responsive as hell, cupping Shark’s ass firmly, kneading his butt urgently.

  “Don’t stop,” Oliver begged, grinding their cocks together.

  Shark moaned, closing his eyes and nipping at Oliver’s lips, and then licking at the tiny wound. He sucked the plump mound and peppered kisses down Oliver’s throat, mouthing the man’s Adam’s apple erotically, feeling the hum of rapid breaths escaping his lover’s airwave.

  “You taste so good,” Shark murmured. “I could eat you up.”

  “Don’t let me stop you,” Slade said hoarsely.

  Shark jerked in surprise, staring across at the bigger shifter, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, cock in fist, pumping his dick as he viewed the wolverines’ antics.

  Shark eased away from Oliver, who moaned in protest, his dark eyes fixing on Shark and then flickering to where Slade was jacking off.

  “Do we really have to wait?” Oliver whined, not even trying to whisper.

  Slade grinned at him, locking eyes with the smaller shifter, pumping faster. “Darlin’, if you want a taste, I don’t mind sharin’ some cream,” he drawled. Oliver took a step closer, but Shark tugged him back.

  “We’re not easy, remember?” he reminded his lover.

  “I am,” Oliver replied, licking his lips, still watching Slade’s erotic show. “Just one taste. He’s gorgeous. Look at that ripe, juicy dick.”

  “Gonna come,” Slade warned, arching his back, eyes closing, and then he groaned, his hips jerking erratically as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum onto the kitchen floor. He groaned again, his face flushed and his eyes opening, revealing his sated pleasure.

  Oliver tugged free of Shark’s grasp and moved closer, falling to his knees as though in a trance. Shark’s dick surged as he watched Oliver lick Slade’s fingers clean and then begin lapping at the succulent slab of meat that Slade still held. Slade locked onto Shark, their eyes meeting in a clash of wills, before Shark wrenched his gaze away and returned to stare at his lover. What would it be like, to have Oliver impaled both ends, Slade fucking his mouth, with Shark fucking his gorgeous ass? Shark almost came just thinking about the erotic fantasy tumbling through his brain.

  “We can’t be hurt again,” he said suddenly, meeting Slade’s gaze again. He saw the comment hit home, saw the flinch of awareness. “Crash almost destroyed us. We know you’re our mate. We can sense the vibes. We’re not completely stupid.” He shrugged, looking away. “We trusted Crash, and he nearly killed us. Now he’s back, attacking our friends. I don’t want anyone else hurt. Poor Mystery must have gone through hell before he escaped the first time, and what’s just happened will leave even more scars.”

  “Baby, hurting you is the last thing I want,” Slade told him, groaning as Oliver popped off his cock. Shark gave a low whimper, seeing Oliver’s swollen lips, the lust evident in his eyes. “I just want to love you.” Slade looked at them with a sincerity that couldn’t be faked, completely serious now. “I’ve been searching my whole life for someone I could care for, for someone to love me back. I know you’re scared. Please know that I’m nothing like Crash. I’d give my life for either of you.”

  “We’re afraid that if we don’t do something you want, you’ll get violent,” Oliver said softly, almost apologetically. “Our family has spent years trying to control us, but we won’t be controlled. We love it here in Sage. It’s our home. We don’t want that spoiled, by anyone.”

  Shark saw the pleading in Oliver’s eyes and nodded slowly. “We have lots of baggage,” he warned Slade. “You’ve been coming into our restaurant since we opened, practically. We know you used to ride with Kaden, who’s a sweetheart, but you were still part of a biker crew. VP, wasn’t it? Those types of guys aren’t weaklings. Or particularly amenable.”

  “I rode with Crash, too,” Slade said starkly, shoving his cock back into his jeans. “You’re right—a biker gang isn’t made up of weaklings. We’re not into wanton violence for the sake of it, either. All of us had jobs and trades. Kaden trained as a hairdresser. I’m an engineer by trade. I love electronics, which is why I opened that shop in the mall.” He stroked Oliver’s cheek gently, smiling down at the little shifter. “Crash was different, though. He never played with a full deck, if you know what I mean. He was always looking for trouble. He was kicked out of the gang for nearly killing one of our crew. The guy’s a paraplegic now and can’t walk. Crash beat him up because Luther ‘looked at him funny’.”

  “That’s horrible,” Oliver said in shock, getting up.

  Slade slid an arm around his waist, tugging him closer, and then kissed him lightly on the mouth. Oliver moaned softly, on tiptoes, leaning into the kiss.

  Shark watched wistfully, seeing the wonder on Slade’s handsome face, the glitter of warmth and affection in the man’s blue gaze. He had the feeling that Slade was smitten, as they both were with him.

  “What happened to Luther?” Shark wanted to know.

  “He’s living in the Florida Keys, now,” he said. “Got himself a bar, and a mate, and spends his days living the good life down there.” Slade grinned. “He’s done really well for himself, actually.” Then he frowned a little. “It’ll never make up for his injuries.”

  “Where is Crash?” Shark asked.

  “Incarcerated,” Slade replied bluntly. “Two bear shifters are guarding him. Sheriff Pace thinks Crash’s connected to Ghost and Morag, Fly’s aunt.”

  “Two bear shifters?” Shark asked, frowning. “I don’t think that’ll be enough. Crash has a nasty habit of escaping custody.”

  “Have you met Louis and Doyle?” Slade asked, eyes wide. “Those two shouldn’t have too much of a problem.”

  “Louis and Doyle?” Oliver giggled. “They’re not wired right. When we were in the mine, in Colorado, they used to cheer us all up, telling fairy tales.”

  “This is Crash we’re talking about,” Shark interjected dourly. “I love the bears, but Crash is just a shade crazier.”

&n
bsp; “Yeah, but Crash hurt us, and we’re Louis and Doyle’s friends They’re fierce when they’re in protective mode,” Oliver explained, cuddling against Slade and nuzzling his face into the bigger man’s chest. “Those two hate bullies. They once told me that they’d been picked on when they were children. When they got bigger, they used to make a point of teaching bullies a lesson. They’re teaching self-defense at the gym these days, for the kids.”

  Shark moved closer still, feeling a little left out as Oliver and Slade bonded. He didn’t want his fears about Crash to ruin something with Slade. He eyed the big man nervously. “We should check with the jail, to make sure everything’s okay.”

  Slade looked at him, then reached for his phone and sent a quick text. A moment later, a reply pinged back. Slade stared at the screen for several seconds, his expression inscrutable.

  “What is it?” Shark asked, not liking Slade’s blank demeanor.

  “Crash got out,” Slade said slowly, blinking. “Someone took out both bears.”

  “They’re dead?” Oliver cried, looking devastated.

  “No, love, not dead. They were shot and badly injured, but Pace says they’ll live.” He looked at both wolverines. “They know where you work, guys. Joking aside, if Crash is on the rampage again, he’s going to come after you. I need to stay here, on guard duty. That guy isn’t going to stay down, is he?”

  Oliver was shaking like a leaf, and Shark went to him, wrapping his arms around the pair of them, feeling sick. Crash on a vengeance kick was terrifying. The man was bad enough on a good day. Let alone when he had a vendetta.

  “We should leave town,” he murmured, almost to himself. “We should get away, so he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

  “Little dude, you’re too late,” Slade replied quietly, cupping his cheek gently. “I know Crash, as well. Now we know he has someone helping him, someone who’s armed and deadly. I don’t think those bears were meant to die, or they’d have a lot more holes in. Whoever shot them is no one to mess with.”

  “We’re sitting ducks if we stay here,” Shark retorted shakily, leaning into Slade’s warm touch.

  “No, love, we’re a force to be reckoned with,” Slade said, smiling a little. “Crash has one speed. That’s his weakness. He goes in full throttle at everything. He’s had a belly full of ketamine today, and he’s running on empty, since he apparently spent all night hurting your friends. By the time he gets here, if he does come here tonight, we’ll be ready for him. Three against one are pretty good odds, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, but we’re half his size,” Oliver protested, his gorgeous eyes huge with worry.

  “Darlin’, you’re wolverines, aren’t you? Famed for taking on opponents twice your size? Crash ain’t that bad—he just makes you think you’re weak. His skill is in psyching his opponents out.”

  “He’s pretty good at that,” Shark said dryly.

  “Yes, he is,” Slade agreed. “If all else fails, shift and go for the jugular. The bastard won’t recover from having his throat ripped out,” he added succinctly.

  Shark wasn’t convinced that they’d be strong enough to do any of that, but gritted his teeth, inhaling the delicious scent of Slade’s aftershave and something earthier, that was all Slade.

  “Well, I’m glad that’s sorted,” Slade said briskly. “Who’s for curry?”

  Oliver let out a startled giggle and hugged both men. “I’m still starving,” he admitted. “Since we’re probably all going to be up most of the night, how about we watch a movie or something, while we eat?”

  Slade kissed him on the nose. “Not a chick flick,” he said, wincing. “Please.”

  As he turned back to the counter again, releasing Oliver and Shark to put plates in the microwave to reheat, Shark winked at Oliver. “Bridget Jones’s Diary,” he mouthed to Oliver, who grinned widely, nodding.

  “No, we’ll put on a thoughtful, well-written comedy, instead,” Shark drawled, tongue in cheek. Slade shot him a suspicious look.

  “Hmmm,” he replied doubtfully. “Comedy, huh?”

  “Oh yes, I’m sure you’ll love it.” Shark turned to get the DVD, grinning.

  Chapter Four

  Present day

  Slade stared out of the window, keeping out of sight of whoever might be watching the apartment. His thoughts were as gloomy as the weather that pounded against the windowpane. Crash on the loose was scary to contemplate, and it had been a few days since he’d escaped custody. The guy wasn’t someone easily controlled, and Slade didn’t think it would be long before he attacked whoever was aiding and abetting him. Crash didn’t like owing favors. He was a loose cannon and always did things on his own terms. Once that accomplice began to tighten the leash, Crash would attack the hand feeding him.

  “Are you okay?” Oliver asked, sliding his hand through Slade’s, his face in shadows as he stared up at Slade. Slade hadn’t heard him come over and tensed at the first words, relaxing as he looked down at the little shifter.

  Slade sighed wearily, rubbing his bald head. “It’s pretty quiet after all the drama this week,” he said. “I’m sorry this isn’t over yet. I know you and Shark want to get back to work. I couldn’t risk you being caught out if Crash decided to come after you. Pace said this was the safest place.”

  “You’re losing business, too, guarding us,” Oliver said softly. “How long do you think we can continue like this? Crash can’t continue to dictate how we live. We’re going to head over to the restaurant in a couple of hours and get set up for a new workday.” He placed a finger over Slade’s lips. “No arguments. Noah, Drew, and Cullen are going to be there, too. We won’t be all alone.”

  Slade frowned, seeing the determination in the younger man’s eyes. “I’ve spent a long time searching for something to hold onto, without even knowing I was looking,” he said finally. “I’d be real disappointed if something bad happened to you or Shark.”

  “Something bad already happened,” Shark said, coming out of the bedroom, dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms and nothing else. “We survived. Oliver’s right. We can’t live in fear like this, frightened to leave our own apartment. If Crash, or Ghost, or whoever else is out there, we’ll have to deal with them. Mystery is still fighting for his life, and Chill has permanent scarring after what those bastards did to him. Humdrum is in a state of constant terror, blaming himself for not helping them. What could he do against the likes of Crash? We won’t be cowed. We’re business owners, and wolverine shifters, not timid mice.”

  Slade smiled a little as he listened to the fear behind the convincing words. Both men were scared, rightly so, but their courage was inspiring. “I need to work, too,” he said, nodding. “I have a couple of ideas for extra security for both of you. Something that should give anyone who might come after you a considerable amount of pain.”

  “What is it?” Oliver asked curiously.

  Slade tapped the side of his nose. “I’ll bring it over to you, once I’ve made some adjustments,” he said, grinning.

  “Spoilsport,” Oliver muttered, pouting.

  Slade caught Shark’s muffled snort and sent a grin his way, as well. “Our littlest shifter is being a brat,” he said mildly.

  Shark laughed at that and nodded. “Always,” he said, both of them ignoring Oliver’s yelp of protest. “I love him, though.”

  “Have you seen anything?” Shark asked, coming to stand closely beside Slade, almost touching, his body heat seeping through Slade, soothing him.

  Slade was delighted, since after a week of lying low, with no sign of anyone trying to get to the wolverines, Shark and Oliver were relaxing around him. Enough that they touched him, light caresses or hand-holding, without even thinking about it. Slade felt ecstatic. He never wanted to think that they might be scared of him. He would never hurt them…at least not in a bad way. Oliver was the perfect submissive, and Slade had jacked off to visions of the little wolverine shifter, on his knees and with a collar around his neck, submitting to Slade and
Shark’s commands. Slade was nervous, though, because of what Crash had subjected them both to. He didn’t want to do or say anything to trigger any bad memories.

  “I can’t help but think that they’re planning something big,” Slade said, almost to himself, looking at the rain lashing down. “I can’t help but think that Louis and Doyle were just the beginning.” He dared to stroke a hand down Shark’s back, feeling the muscles tense and then relax under his touch. He felt Shark’s look, felt the shudder when he squeezed the wolverine’s hip gently and then stroked a finger gently along the curve of the shifter’s spine.

  “You mean them being shot?” Oliver asked, squeezing Slade’s hand.

  Slade nodded grimly. “Yeah. It’s a little too convenient that they weren’t killed. Clearly, whoever released Crash had a reason and was close enough to have taken the bears out permanently. Their wounds were aimed to drop them, but not be fatal. Either the shooter is highly skilled or made a huge mistake. I doubt they made a mistake.”

  “I hate the waiting,” Shark said quietly, staring up at Slade. He moved in closer, nostrils flaring, mouth parted slightly.

  Slade looked back, leaning in a little until their lips were almost touching. “Sometimes waiting can be a good thing,” he murmured. “The tension adds to the excitement.”

  Shark let out a shaky breath. “You’re not like Crash,” he stated, almost wonderingly.

  “No,” Slade retorted. “I didn’t grow up thinking myself entitled to anyone who took my fancy. I haven’t gone through life enjoying causing pain.” He licked at Shark’s delectable mouth, tasting him avidly. “I’ve made mistakes as a youngster, knowing no better, and I hurt people because I was stupid. But I’m light years away from what Crash is.”

  Shark closed the gap and kissed Slade softly, the kiss quickly deepening as their hunger ignited. Slade moaned, savoring the spiciness of Shark’s mouth, the wet glide as their tongues collided, the clash of teeth as the caress grew more desperate. He heard Oliver let out a gasp, smelled the pungent scent of arousal, and ground against Shark’s trembling frame, lifting him up so his legs wrapped tightly around Slade’s waist. Rocking the man against him, he angled his head, changing the tempo again as he gentled his kiss. He sucked at the succulent length of Shark’s tongue, reaching into Shark’s pj’s and finding bare, moist skin as he guided his finger down the man’s crease. Shark let out a low groan, shuddering with need, keening when Slade gently brushed against the tiny rosebud.