by JC Holly
He shifted his position so that his hands rested on the bed on either side of Farrell, then began to slowly push farther into his tight ass. Farrell moved his hips a little in response, lengthening the strokes. Farrell’s ass felt incredible as Victor slid his cock deeper still, and he had to bite his lip to muffle his groan.
“You feel so good,” Victor managed to mutter between breaths. “If this is what going slow feels like, I’m never going fast again.”
“Need to shift position,” Farrell said with a grunt. “Shoulder.”
He shifted his hips and raised his ass off the bed and Victor helped him so that Farrell was on all fours with his forearms propping him up. He seemed comfortable so Victor reapplied lube and got into position behind him, the tip of his cock pushed against Farrell’s ass. Farrell pushed back onto the shaft so quickly that Victor gasped in surprise.
“Okay, so fast has its appeal, too,” he said as he slapped Farrell’s ass.
He slipped one hand around Farrell’s waist and gripped his thick cock and began to stroke his shaft in time with their sex, pushing his thick cockhead through his lube-covered fingers. Farrell moaned softly at the action and moved back a little harder onto Victor’s cock.
“You like that?” Victor said as he squeezed Farrell’s cock.
“Fuck yes. Don’t stop.”
“Never.”
Victor picked up the speed a little, but kept it to a pace that he could cope with. They held the position and pace for the longest time, no words spoken, only heavy breathing.
Victor tried picturing a time when he and Farrell were just friends, but it just didn’t seem right. It was as if their entire relationship had been leading to this point. They just hadn’t realized it until that first time together after the night spent in the cabin.
He wondered what Farrell was thinking at that time. Did he feel the same? He’d mentioned them heading off across the world together, hadn’t he? That was a pretty sure sign in Victor’s book.
Farrell shifted positions slightly and brought Victor back to the moment at hand. Despite the steady rhythm, he knew that the inevitable moment was approaching. He slowed further, but Farrell had other ideas, and slammed back onto Victor’s cock. Victor grinned and gripped the man’s cock harder and began to jerk faster. Farrell growled softly and continued slamming back onto Victor’s cock as Victor pushed back just as hard.
They soon built to a wicked pace, all thoughts of steadiness and quiet gone as they fucked hard, the bed squeaking beneath them. They both began to growl as the moment approached, and Victor could feel Farrell tensing as he fought to stave off his orgasm. Victor was just as close.
“I’m coming,” he gasped. “On your back.”
Victor pulled out of Farrell’s ass, and Farrell flipped onto his back and began to jerk his cock. Victor gripped his own cock and stroked hard, then cried out as he came hard at the same moment that Farrell did, their cum splattering onto Farrell’s tense stomach. Still jerking his own cock, Victor dipped down and sunk Farrell’s cock into his mouth, sucking hard as the last drops of cum hit his tongue. He massaged Farrell’s shaft to work the rest free, then swallowed the cum and pulled off. Farrell was on him a moment later, their lips meeting in a furious kiss of pure passion.
Victor pulled away first from necessity, as his neck screamed in complaint at the angle his head was at. He dropped onto the bed beside Farrell, gasping and holding his neck. Farrell frowned in concern and Victor shook his head with a smile.
“It’s fine. More than worth it.”
Farrell grinned and leaned over to finish the kiss softly. “That was a hell of a ride,” he said once they broke the kiss again. “We need to do that again.”
Victor reached over and gripped Farrell’s hand and squeezed. “Definitely.”
Farrell squeezed back, then let go. Victor lay back and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath as he did. He couldn’t be more content.
He woke some time later to the sound of his cell phone. It stopped after a while, and he rolled onto his side, then sat on the edge of the bed while he tried to remember where he’d left the phone. It began to ring again, and Victor walked to the pile of clothes in the corner of the room and rifled through until he found his jeans pocket. He pulled out the phone to find Ethan ringing.
“Shit.”
“What?” Farrell asked from the bed.
“It’s Ethan.” He flipped the phone open. “What’s happened?”
“You need to come to the hospital.” Ethan’s voice was a growl of pure rage. “It’s Avani.”
Chapter Eleven
By the time Farrell had managed to flag down a cab, Victor had given up and started to run instead. Given the rush-hour traffic and route to the hospital, it was the wiser choice. With a few quick breaths Farrell took off after the man.
The pack had rules against appearing anything other than completely human in public. That included shows of strength or speed. Victor obviously didn’t give a damn at that moment, and neither did Farrell as he pushed as much power into his legs as he could. So what if a few people saw them sprint past? It was hard to tell the difference between a regular run and an Olympic-speed dash when there were no clocks to watch.
Victor had a lead of half a block, but Farrell was older and stronger, and soon came up behind, then leveled out beside his friend. Victor glanced once but there was neither time nor breath for talking. They ran on, dodging pedestrians and cars on side streets. Farrell tried not to think too hard about what had happened to Avani.
Ethan had been vague on the phone, giving little more information than the hospital’s address and saying that Avani had been badly hurt. It was all they needed to know until they got there, anyway. Farrell thought back to what Victor had found in the apartment of one of the bar staff and used the anger to spur himself on.
Gabriel would pay dearly.
They arrived at the hospital less than five minutes later and only slowed to dodge their way through the double doors. People jumped out of their way as they headed straight to the reception and a very alarmed-looking receptionist.
“Avani…” Victor swore. “What the hell is her last name!”
A large hand landed on his shoulder, and Farrell spun, ready to kill whoever dared to bring the war to the hospital. Instead he threw his arms around Ethan.
“Follow me,” he said thickly. “She’s down here.”
They followed their pack leader in silence, other than their heavy breathing. If Ethan had seen their entrance, he was saving the chastising for another time. He led them down a long hallway lined off with doors leading to waiting rooms and wards. He gestured to the double doors at the end.
“Just through here.”
“What happened?” Farrell said. “How bad is it?”
Ethan didn’t reply for a moment. “It’s bad. Looks like a few of Gabriel’s boys caught her on her way back from the shops. She’d called twenty minutes earlier to say she needed supplies. When she didn’t call back like she said she would, I came out to check on her.” He pushed the double doors open hard enough to slam them into the walls. “They must’ve jumped her. The doctors say she took a serious blow to the head. They’re not even sure how she survived it. When she was down, they kept attacking. Knives and feet,” Ethan growled, barely above a whisper.
“They’ll pay,” Victor said, before Farrell had the chance.
Ethan just nodded.
Avani was in a room of her own. She lay in a white-blanketed bed, amidst a mass of screens and machines. Tubes ran in and out of her arms, and a misty breathing mask covered half her face. A thick bandage wrapped around her head.
What wasn’t covered by mask, blanket, or bandage was a mess of caked blood and reddened skin. Her left eye was swollen shut, her right only a slit. And that was just what they could see.
A nurse sat near the bed and nodded slightly as they entered.
“You can talk freely, if quietly,” Ethan said as he pushed the door shut. “Yvonne
is a Were.”
Farrell nodded a hello. “What can you tell us?”
“Not much,” the nurse said. “She was attacked, likely by two or three assailants. They kicked and slashed at her when she was down, and I think they only stopped because they were spotted.”
“The ambulance was already there when I arrived,” Ethan said. “Someone had called 911 on their cell phone.”
“Even so, she’s lucky to be alive,” Yvonne said. “The doctors are calling it a miracle she’s survived this long, and that she’s recovering so fast. They say at this rate she’ll be out of ICU and into a ward by tomorrow.”
Farrell gripped the footrail of the hospital bed and squeezed until his knuckles went white. “When she’s ready for a ward we’ll discharge her.”
“Agreed,” Ethan said, holding out a hand to calm Yvonne. “While she’s in intensive care, she’s safe. There are security guards and nurses watching. If she gets put in a ward, she’s too easy to get to.”
“She won’t leave here until she’s deemed stable,” Yvonne said with a sigh. “I guess her Were blood can take care of the rest. I can get her some painkillers to take to dull the worst of it.”
“Good.”
It was the first word Victor had spoken since he set foot in the room. Farrell turned to find him stood in the corner, his gaze locked onto Avani’s face.
“He was there,” he said, his voice low. “Marcus. I can smell him on her.”
“Gabriel’s second?” Farrell asked.
Victor nodded. “His blood is on her.”
Ethan smiled at that, though it was forced. “My girl fought back.”
“Damn right I fought back.”
The voice was so rough it barely sounded like Avani at all. Every eye was on her in a second. She took in a deep and ragged breath, then coughed hard, her body rocking. Yvonne was up in a moment, checking her vitals.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Like three men kicked the shit out of me, then kept kicking.” She took in another lungful of air. “Get this fucking mask off my face.”
Yvonne did as she was told, and revealed yet more of Avani’s bloodied and swollen face. Both lips were as thick as sausages, and bled from numerous cracks. Someone had kicked her in the mouth when she was down. The metal rail in Farrell’s grip squealed in complaint as it warped under his silent anger.
“I was coming home from the shops,” Avani said.
“It’s okay,” Ethan said. “We know what happened. Save your energy.”
She nodded, her one visible eye wet with tears. “The big guy said my life was over, said he would enjoy killing me.” Her lips curved into a tortured smile. “Ugly bastard couldn’t deliver. Not even with friends.”
Ethan patted her softly on the shoulder, one of the few undamaged places. “You’re my second for a reason.”
“Sandy okay?”
“She’s fine. I had one of the guys check in on her at your place. No sign of Gabriel’s boys.”
That was good news, at least, Farrell thought. He slowly eased his aching hands from the rail of the bed.
“You need to rest, sweetheart. Yvonne will take care of you.”
“And Paul and Darren are on their way. They won’t leave your side.”
Avani nodded. “Nothin’ more loyal than wolves.”
Farrell leant over and kissed her on her bandaged head. “Just rest, love.”
Ethan and Victor leant in to kiss her, too, and all three left the room, Ethan closing the door behind them. They walked in silence out of the intensive care unit, and into a deserted cafeteria. Farrell and Victor sat on one side of a table, Ethan on the other.
“This ends,” Ethan said, his gaze alternating between the pair.
Victor slammed his fist onto the table, the sudden ferocity making Farrell jump. “I will personally rip that bastard’s head from his shoulders. I don’t care how many people he has with him.”
Ethan eyed him for a moment, then shook his head. “Your neck isn’t healed.”
“It’s good enough, boss. He won’t get time to use it to his advantage.”
“No.”
“Boss, it’s not—”
“I said no!” Ethan slammed his own larger fist on the table and sent a crack running from end to end. “I’m the fucking boss, and I’m telling you no.” The pair exchanged glares for a moment before Ethan’s face softened. “If you shift now, there’s a chance you’ll do more damage. What if the change rips your artery open? You’re no good to anyone dead.”
Victor stared, then dipped his head. When he looked up again, his eyes were wet. “He hurt Avani. I can’t…I can’t let him get away with that.”
“And we won’t.” Ethan reached over and squeezed the man’s shoulder. “You think I don’t want to be out there right now, hunting Marcus down? I had to have a Were escort just to get to the hospital, though. I’m a walking bull’s-eye. If I’m seen near Gabriel’s place, the entire pack would be on me in seconds. Believe me, I feel every bit as useless as you do.”
“Then what do we do?”
Farrell rolled his shoulder. “I’m good to go,” he said simply.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Vic took a bite, and he’s out of commission. You took a bullet.”
“I heal quicker.”
“Not that quick, you don’t.”
Farrell sighed, considered his actions for a moment, then stood and pulled off his shirt, turned, and ripped the bandage away. “Yes, I do.”
Ethan sucked in a breath. Silence descended on the room. Farrell readied himself for what he’d come to expect from similar moments over the centuries. Instead all he heard was a low chuckle.
“I knew you were older than you said.”
“Much,” Farrell said with a nod. “It aches, but the damage is healed. At most my front leg will be stiff.”
“All right. But we do this right. Gabriel’s no fool. If we go running in half-cocked, he’ll wipe the floor with us.”
“Don’t worry, boss.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I never do anything half-cocked.”
Ethan smirked, though it didn’t last. “Only you can crack jokes at a time like this.”
“It’s that or go crazy.” Farrell stood and rolled his neck. “What’s the plan?”
* * * *
Victor walked a pace behind Farrell and Ethan as they made their way back to Avani’s room. His neck ached dully, his footsteps making it twinge, but he didn’t let it show. Instead he used the pain, let it wash over him and fuel his anger. He might not be fighting up front with the big guns, but there was no way he was staying out of the fight entirely.
Farrell’s volunteering to take on Marcus had left Victor with mixed emotions. On the one hand there was nobody else he trusted more to take his place, other than Ethan himself. On the other hand, though, the thought of Farrell being injured or even killed twisted his guts into knots. He wondered if Farrell had felt similar when Victor had tried to volunteer.
Their planning had been ended prematurely by someone walking into the cafeteria, but the basics were there. Farrell and Paul would scout the warehouse while other teams scouted the other known hangouts of Gabriel’s pack. If they found Gabriel, and ideally Marcus, and it was safe, they would go in and tackle him. If there were too many Weres, they’d hang back until reinforcements arrived. The finer points of the plan were to be hashed out later that afternoon.
It wasn’t the most inventive plan, but it was better than Victor’s idea of running in and tearing everyone apart.
Avani was already feeling better, or so she said. The swelling on her face had reduced enough that she could see through both eyes, but she was still a long way from getting out of bed. Her vitals showed a slight improvement, though, Yvonne informed them. Ethan told Avani the plan, and she agreed that it was necessary.
“I hate to see you go into a fight this big without me,” she said. “Just be careful.”
Victor stroked her arm, careful not to touch the various ba
ndages and wires. “We’re playing this one safe.”
“If you were playing it safe, you’d call in a tactical airstrike and go for beers.”
“Funnily enough the army frowns on bombing cities,” Farrell said from his spot by the foot of the bed. “They’re spoilsports like that.”
He was reading Avani’s chart, and seemed to understand it, too. Victor wondered if he’d spent time as a doctor at some point in his life. There was so much he didn’t know about the man. All the more to learn, I guess. Assuming we come out of this fight in one piece. He tried not to focus on the gnawing in his gut and instead turned back to Avani.
“So, another hour till you’re healed, you think?”
She smirked. “More like two, probably. Maybe I’ll see you out on the field tonight.”
Victor smiled, though it was pained. “I’ve been kicked off the team, on account of this damn neck wound. I’ll probably spend the evening polishing glasses at the bar.”
“Poor Vic with his little boo-boo.” She raised a bandaged arm. “Could be worse.”
“Eh, you’re faking it. Admit it.”
She laughed, then winced and put her hand on her stomach. “You got me. You’re on Candid Camera.”
Yvonne moved to the bed, pushing Victor aside unceremoniously. She leant over the bed and lifted the blanket to inspect Avani’s stomach.
“Just a popped stitch,” she said. “I’ll need to replace the bandage, though.” She turned to the three men. “Try not to make her laugh, okay?”
“Sorry, nurse,” Victor said as he moved in to stroke Avani’s hand. “We’d better let you rest. Need anything from home?”
“Just some clothes for when I’m healed. Sandy called to say she’s bringing some over, along with my guards.” She shook her head. “Never thought I’d be the one who needed guarding.”
Farrell came over and patted her arm. “Just think of them as free eye candy.”
