by Arden, Susan
“You’ve remarkable lines. Strong lines,” Santo pronounced. “Lickable lines.” Santo squeezed his hand before he let go.
Tristen towered over them, a regular sex-in-a-suit GQ model gone badass. Santo stood up, putting three or four inches above his partner’s six-foot-one powerful stature.
“Tristen, this is Santo Camio. Santo, here’s Tristen Morrison, as promised.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Santo.”
“I’ve heard nothing but glowing praise of you.” Santo tunneled fingers through his thick blue-black hair.
“Fin speaks. I’m floored.” Tristen held out his hand and Fin held his breath. They shook and Tristen’s eyes widened, not overtly but enough for Fin to perceive his partner now had a better understanding of the meaning special. Tristen turned to face him, lifting a brow—shorthand for WTF.
Santo sandwiched Tristen’s hand between his palms. “He speaks of nothing but you.” His warm Mediterranean laughter floated within the small room like a balmy summer breeze.
Fin’s heartbeat sped up, and he reached for his wine glass rather than gawk at the striking and polar men sizing each other up in front of him. A testosterone pissing match was about to erupt.
“It’s been a long day.” Tristen didn’t miss a beat and lifted the glass out of his hand and took a long sip, his smoldering stare raking Fin’s desire over the coals. This was all part of Tris’s wolf predator stance, one Fin hadn’t seen in a long time, and it was a turn-on.
Fin’s mouth watered at the thought of Tristen’s commanding nature. “The wine is perfect. A combination of dry and sweet. Earthy with bite.” Fin’s voice came out hoarse. He picked up the bottle and poured a glass for Tristen, wondering how to broach the subject of Santo and his unique talents.
From the looks of things, Santo was ready to lick Tristen. He’d been in for a fucking hot tasty treat. No argument. Fin observed the way Santo’s eyes traced a path across his wolf lover. Tristen was a work of shredded wonder with his light amber eyes and his near platinum hair. His features were golden from the top of his head down the expanse of honey-kissed skin that swathed his rock-hard body. The man’s physique made men, women, shifters, basically everyone stop and stare.
And now Santo could be added to that ever-growing list. Something in Fin’s chest pinched at the thought of Tristen enjoying Santo’s adoration. He quickly dismissed the thought. This wasn’t going to end up being all about Tris. Tonight, it was about his needs and wants. And that included showing Tristen he wasn’t some fragile vet who needed to be handled with kid gloves.
“Shall we?” Tristen’s glowing eyes shifted up and down as he stood back, waiting until Santo was seated, then he slanted his gaze back to Fin momentarily.
Fin leaned back. “Why don’t you two take a load off? We’re here to relax and eat.”
“Agreed. May I?” Tristen motioned to him. Fin nodded, before scooting over in the booth.
Tristen’s wolf enforcer nature flared. His eyes were slightly flattened, a sign he registered stimuli in the environment. And from what was going down with Santo, hell, Tris had to be experiencing a shitload of sensations. The tiny lines around his lover’s eyes tightened a hair. His nostrils flared.
Definitely, he was employing his lupine senses, and the telltale sign was the sipping of air through his parted lips. Tristen was sniffing out clues to what stood before him. Hell. There was no easy way around this.
“So you had a long day. Sorry to hear.” Fin sucked in a breath as he slid the glass in front of his partner.
“Seems things have yet to settle.” Tris pressed his lips into a tightly drawn line.
“Astute as ever,” Fin muttered, “Oh and by the way, he’s a fucking vampire. Or was. Fill him in, Santo.”
Santo’s porcelain skin quivered as though with anticipation. His full red lips curved, and the platinum caps said more than words could convey. “It is true. I’m a full-blooded creature of the night.” He used a mock-Transylvanian lisp. “I want to suck your…not blood. Something more decadent. And he can watch.” Santo cocked his head in Fin’s direction. His melodious laugh only made him more insidious.
In an instant Santo had gone from “Hello, I’m your worst nightmare” to “Let’s blow this joint and have a threesome.”
“Way to go, Santo. Nothing like jumping right in. So much for subtle.” Fin tapped his fingers on the table, looking from Tris to Santo.
“Don’t get ruffled. I’m not biting your friend.”
Heat rippled off Tristen’s body as he settled back against the cushions. He angled his blond brow at Fin, followed by a steel grip on his leg. Tristen turned to face their guest. “I know there’s more to that story you’re handing out. I get you’re wearing caps. Your choice?”
Santo stared back across the table. “Totally.”
For a second, Tristen swirled the wine in his glass. “You’ve limited yourself for whatever reason. Am I supposed to ask? I lost my fear of your kind overseas. You’re still a species spinning through time on the hunt for food, shelter, the tick of the clock.”
Fin shook his head. “Real nice. I’m glad you’re being reasonable and sensitive.”
“Hey.” Tristen growled, then swung from Santo back to him. “Fin, is this your definition of useful? I fully get special. And brother I gotta say peculiar comes to mind. I can see I’ve been remiss in not asking for more details. Let’s remedy that…shall we? Just where in the fuck did you two meet?”
Christ. He had to lay it all out there before Tristen completely lost his cool. Time for some truth. “At Howl. I saw the matches on the counter. I know that you know. So let’s cut the crap. Just say what you’re thinking. Can you do that?”
Tristen inhaled. “I’d like that but quid pro quo. Let’s continue with how you met.”
Santo waved his hand. “We were inside the club. I didn’t know anyone. I don’t think Fin did either.”
Tristen waved his hand. “No. What I meant was, did you meet at the bar over drinks, or shooting pool…hell, was it in one of the rooms upstairs? For Pete’s sake, I hope it wasn’t in the basement. Santo, no offense, but you look like one of those all-stars. The type you”—Tristen pointed at Fin—“tend to fawn all over.”
Fin stared at him. “I wouldn’t do that behind your back. You know that. Stop trying to incite me into reacting. That’s textbook projection. Seriously, I know what you’re thinking, dickhead.” He gritted his teeth, wanting to punch Tristen. To insinuate he’d taken part in something like a public flogging behind his back was out there. Really out there.
“I’m not the one suddenly talking about turning up the power in bed and bringing home souvenirs from kink clubs. So excuse-the-fuck-me if I can put two and two together.” Tristen slammed his hands on the table, sneering at Fin. His lover with his canines bared looked ready to tear him a new one.
Folding his hands, Fin murmured, “All-in-all this has gone better than I’d expected.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Tristen had maintained his composure so far, considering the issues on the table. Just a few snide comments…well, he was a high-ranking beta wolf, and smackdowns were expected in some form. But, Fin pointedly reminded himself, he wasn’t some omega that Tristen could dismiss.
Fin nodded to Santo. “I thought he might help us.”
“Okay, maybe we need to define help.”
“As in our relationship, and you said you needed someone level-headed in the field. Santo’s got a unique skill set.”
Tristen raised his hand. “Oh brother. I’ve got a question.”
“Ask away,” Santo folded his hands in front of himself, smiling.
“Have you guys already screwed or what?” Tristen glowered at Santo, then shook his head as if he’d topped off and was ready to blow. His eyes were liquid fire spouting topaz sparks. “I’ll jam him up. I fucking swear, Fin, I’ll knock the ice man into tomorrow. Him and his platinum caps.”
Holy shit. Mount Tristen was about to erupt. “Tristen pull
yourself together. And come back to Earth.”
“Me? You want me to pull myself together?”
Fin realized that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Never had Tristen gotten this out of control. It only got worse when Tristen leaned across the table, closing some of the distance between himself and Santo and growled. Things were heating up fast. Santo stood up and Tristen followed suit.
“Leaving?” The wolf in Tristen bristled so close to the surface…any second Tris might transform.
“You’ve a temper. It might be best.” Santo glanced down at him. “Sorry. This isn’t going as you’d like.”
Tristen jabbed his finger into Santo’s chest, and Fin held his breath. His partner spoke between his teeth. “I noticed you’ve got a hard-on. That’s not a gun you’re packing, cowboy.” Then, he pointed over the table at Fin. “And you. If I grabbed your crotch, I bet you could pound spiral shank nails into a roof at this moment with your pecker.”
Santo raised his palms, smiling charismatically as usual, but his voice sliced through the air. “This is not what you think. I’m here to offer you both assistance. Help. Nothing more. You’re stressed. I’ve training.”
“Stress help? What the hell?” Tristen asked, backing up from Santo. “Is this the state of the medical professional? Hiring vampires?”
Fin waved his hand. “He can help us. Just listen—”
Tristen interrupted him. “Beat me like a drum. Are you from one of those VA therapy groups?” Tristen glanced at Fin. “He is, isn’t he?”
“Not even close. This is almost becoming comical.”
“Tristen, no. I’m not from the hospital but I’m a vet. Like you.” Santo stilled, and the energy in the room coalesced. The temperature dropped a good ten degrees as the vampire pressed his fingers on the table top. “You came close. I’m not a European cowboy, but I am a straight shooter. With the French-Cuban blood on my mother’s side, I can’t help but speak my mind and don’t mince my words. I understand you both are having some difficulties. In bed and life.”
“Tris, sit down. Hear him out. We’re not having an affair, for God’s sake.” Fin patted the seat next to him in the booth. “We started talking at Howl and found a few connections.”
“I’m not into this other realm crap and you know it. Shit, I’ve enough to deal with from backstabbing humans.” Tristen peeled off his jacket and loosened his tie. “You did go behind my back to Howl. You didn’t overtly lie about it, but withholding is also an act of subterfuge, so cut the BS.”
“Don’t blow your stack.” Fin rubbed his forehead. “You’re right. I own my screwup. I should have been straight with you.” Tristen’s facial features had elongated slightly and his muscles quivered. Of course, being so close to a vampire would impact his lover’s wolf shifter instincts. The atmosphere in the space roiled, heated up again from the excessive shifter testosterone, not to mention the soaring endorphins. Tristen’s body—heck, his own body—was on the verge of transforming. The intimate room was designed for no more than four people, and two hulking men a few feet apart took up most of that air space. Santo held up his palms, long, slender bluish fingers capturing the light.
“I meant no disrespect. Tristen. It is my nature to absorb energy. More so now that I don’t openly hunt for my next meal.” He lowered himself elegantly onto the seat in front of Fin. The blood red leather of the padded cushion matched the color of Santo’s lips that he licked like a pro. Tristen sat without touching Fin and balanced on the edge of the seat.
Tristen was right. His cock lay snug up against his belly. Not because he wanted Santo, but because he wanted Tristen with his over-the-top reaction. His passion inflamed Fin’s craving for rough, illicit sex. But to taste decadence as a couple, Tris needed to stop treating him as though he was some achy-breaky candy striper who would come apart. His partner’s anger and passion and ability to dominate had Fin nearly unhinged and ready to shift into a howling wild wolf. This untapped side of Tristen, entranced him, spiking his craving for pain and pleasure. He didn’t know how or why, but each time his lover erupted, he got a raging erection. Fin gripped the table, trying to throttle the current of desire that flooded his senses.
“Tris, we’re not the only ones who went to war and saw men blown to pieces. I talked with Santo about my work as a medic. About what I do now. He doesn’t think my cravings are so farfetched.”
“Shocking. A horny vampire squatting in a bondage club finds your desire to be…manhandled just hunky-dory.”
Santo fixed his eyes on Tristen. “I have experience in controlled situations. It’s true. But not from the point of being in the mix. That was not the purpose of my visiting Howl. I was there on business.”
“Christ, he and Sherry are related. Go ask her if you think this is so out there. Santo visited the Den last week to have dinner here, and he thought he recognized me. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Great. One puzzle solved. The missing piece to a far bigger one, Fin, is that you were at Howl. Why?”
His stomach churned as he regarded Tristen’s handsome face. How could he tell him he needed more when the man was drop dead gorgeous and a fucking beast in bed?
“To see and learn. And yeah, I wanted to scope out the place…for us. Stop crucifying me because of my needs. It’s unbelievably provincial. How closed-minded are you?”
“Where you’re concerned, very.” Tristen met his gaze, so fierce and fiery, Fin melted.
He rubbed his forehead. No. No. Fuck no! He wouldn’t fold. Scrubbing his hand down his face, he pushed forward. “You need to tune in or…I don’t want to give you an ultimatum.”
“Jesus. Can this day get any better?” Tris bit his cheek, then tunneled his fingers through his hair. Fin seriously thought his partner was about to say “Adios.”
“Talk to me. You’re not the one who normally clams up.”
Tris let go of a short laugh. Fin’s heart beat like a motherfucking drum. Tris cocked his head at him, the look on his face surprisingly tender. “And you shouldn’t have to. I don’t know why I’ve become a stogy bastard. Fuck. Let’s have a drink. All around?” Tristen pressed closer on the booth seat, placing the glass in front of Fin.
“After this, we all could use a stiff drink.”
“Wine? Or should we order something else?” Tristen asked as his fingers grazed Fin’s knee.
Santo pushed his glass toward Tristen. “Please, I enjoy a good wine.” Santo flexed his jaw, watching from across the table, seeming to study them. The vampire steepled his manicured fingers.
“Me too. I’ll stick with the wine.” Fin picked up his glass.
Tris lifted the bottle of wine, and slowly began pouring the burgundy liquid. He eyed Fin over the glass, his free hand moving up his leg. Tingling jolts erupted, spreading over his body. Nothing like being stared at by a vampire and an overreacting beta. Navigating enemy terrain filled with IEDs hadn’t been as tense. Tristen held out the bottle of wine toward Santo and Fin pulled his hand over his hard-on. God, his dick throbbed even harder as Tris gripped him possessively.
Tristen set the glass before Santo, and poured one for himself. He raised his glass. “Gentlemen, to our health and a relaxed evening.”
“And a long, prosperous life,” Santo held out his glass equal distance between Fin and Tristen. “May we know friendship.” He tapped his glass against both Fin’s and Tristen’s glass.
They all drank in silence. Fin rolled the dry wine around his mouth, over his tongue, and took a shallow breath of air. “Hmm. Delicious. More so after being allowed to breathe. Sherry said she picked this one especially for tonight.”
Tristen’s brow crinkled. “Apparently, I’m the last one to know about your friendship. What does Sherry know that I’m still in the dark about?”
“Santo is Sherry’s houseguest.”
“How’s that going over with Quinn?”
Fin turned to him. “What do you mean? Why would he even care?”
“Oh. Finally I kn
ow something you don’t. But, it doesn’t matter.” Tristen drained his glass of wine before he slid his gaze across the table. “How long are you here in Denver?” Tristen gave him one rough tug and then stopped stroking his cock, leaving him panting. He snaked his arm along the back of the booth, and Fin leaned his neck against Tris’s fingertips, curling his own hands into fists on the table. Electrical bursts erupted up and down his body. He’d be a hundred years old and Tristen’s touch would still set him off.
“That depends. I’m not certain where I’d like to settle. I was hoping to apply to the same company that employs you both.”
“Santo, Fin relayed that you were interested in finding a job. I’m not certain what your qualifications are and how you’d fit into this company. You understand you’d have to be flexible. Shawn’s businesses are varied and then there’s the Downtown Den. You must know from Sherry this is a private club strictly for shifters and their carnal needs.”
“You’ve this concern because I’m a vampire?”
“Don’t you people have strange hours?”
Fin laughed. “You sound like some old-timer…you people. There’s not a prejudiced bone in your body. Where’s this coming from?”
Tristen inhaled and ran his hand over his face. “I’m simply trying to get a handle on the facts. It’s been a long-ass day.”
“I meant what I said. I’m a vampire from birth, not from choice. I don’t practice the lifestyle. It’s been years. Not after being in the military and doing a tour in Afghanistan. Hence, the caps. The platinum keeps the canines from erupting spontaneously.” Santo opened his mouth and licked his crimson tongue over milk-white teeth, except for four shiny capped incisors.
“Excuse me. But what about your diet? We abide the laws in place for humans. We have our own code for shifters. You’re an entirely different breed of creature. How exactly would you do around shifters? Can you get along on a daily basis?”
“Literally, I am a different breed. But for all practical purposes, I live a human life insofar as jurisprudence. For ease of travel, I transform much like you. But I don’t need to return to primal roots as you all do for lunar cycles. Sex is different with us. We respond at a deeper level than most creatures and we share this way of perceiving with our partners.”
