by JC Holly
Mickey swung his fist, but Paul was already moving. He dipped under the approaching arm then dodged left. As he straightened he smashed the glass into Mickey’s face. The man yelped and fell back two steps, his hand to his cut cheek.
“You fucking prick,” he snarled as he pulled a long shard of glass from his face.
Paul ignored the wobble in his legs. Drank too damn much for this. “I should’ve left the whiskey in. Would’ve hurt more.”
Mickey reached to tear at his shirt, then glanced around and snarled. “I guess we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”
He came forward in a hail of fists, and Paul threw up his arms in a boxer’s defense, then lashed out with his right leg. His balance wavered, and while his kick connected, it also sent him staggering to the side. Mickey recovered sooner, since he was more sober, and came back in.
“I preferred it when I thought you were dead,” he said, one side of his face slick with blood.
“Yeah?” Paul regained his balance and shook his head hard to clear the fog. For once he was glad Weres sobered fast. “Pity your boss didn’t think I was dead, too.”
Mickey faltered for a second and Paul came in hard with a right hook, knocking the man down. He was about to follow it up with a kick to the man’s jaw when a huge arm wrapped around his middle holding him still. He struggled to turn or fight free, but the grip was like a vice.
“It’s me, Paul. Calm down.”
It was Ethan, and it wasn’t a request, and as angry as Paul was, he wasn’t stupid. He stilled and Ethan let him go, then stepped between the pair, facing Mickey who had managed to climb to his feet. He came forward but Ethan pushed against his chest, and the man went sprawling again.
“The next time you mess with one of my boys, I’ll pull off your arms and deliver them to Gabriel personally.”
Mickey spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. “Fuck you.”
“You want to test me?” Ethan gestured to the bar. “In one of my properties, on my territory? Are you really that stupid?”
Mickey eyed Paul for a long moment, then hauled himself to his feet and headed out the door. Ethan turned and pushed Paul backward toward a booth.
“Sit. Now.”
Paul did as he was told. “You own this place?”
Ethan nodded. “Ever since Craig was spotted in here hiring people to kill Avani.”
“That was this bar?”
“Yup. Bought it up after that and threw some paint over the puke stains.” He sat opposite Paul. “Are you an idiot, Paul?”
“Wh—”
“Not only do you start a fight in a bar, you start a fight in a bar with a member of another pack.”
“I didn’t start it. He—”
“I don’t give a damn which of you started it,” Ethan said, glaring. “You still fought him, and if I didn’t stop you, you probably would’ve broken his jaw. Even with him on my territory that would cause all kinds of trouble with Gabriel.”
“I’m sorry, boss.” Paul shook his head. “You’re right. I was upset, I drank too much, and I let my anger get the best of me.”
Ethan’s features softened. “Apology accepted. Just keep it reined in, okay?”
“Promise.”
He nodded once. “Now, what has you so riled up?”
“I, uh…” Paul took a quick breath through his nose. No other Weres nearby. “I told Darren about my past,” he said as quietly as he could.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “And what past is that?”
He was even more cautious than Paul, it seemed.
“I did some things I’m not proud of, and Darren didn’t like that I’d waited to tell him.”
“I see. Can you blame him?”
“No, I can’t.”
“And do you think he’d want to see you like this? Getting drunk in a slightly updated dive and getting into fights?”
Paul sighed. “No.”
In fact, it was the last thing he’d want Darren to see, given that all his troubles had started in a not-too-dissimilar way. Damn it. He’d made a fool of himself, make no mistake. Even worse, he’d done it in front of Ethan.
“Go home, Paul.” Ethan rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll call you a cab. Get in the shower, wash off the smell of booze and blood, and get some rest. Things will look better in the morning.”
Paul nodded and watched Ethan head over to the barman to ask for the phone. God, he felt like an idiot. He was going to take Ethan’s advice to the letter. Home, shower, bed. Hopefully by the time he woke up, Darren would have made a decision. One way or the other.
* * * *
Darren arrived at Paul’s apartment the next morning with a hangover and two large coffees stacked precariously in one hand. He knocked on the door with the other and tried to ignore the churning in his stomach. It wasn’t entirely from the tequila, either.
What if Paul had decided “to hell with him” after he practically kicked him out of the house? Darren wouldn’t blame him. He didn’t have much time to consider it, as the door opened a moment later. Paul stood in the frame, half-lidded eyes, mussed hair, and nothing but boxers. Even bedraggled, the guy looked gorgeous.
“Can I come in?” Darren said. “I have coffee.”
Paul smiled, though it was an uneasy one, and held the door as Darren walked inside. He put the coffees on the table and sat, trying not to smirk.
“By the smell of it, I wasn’t the only one drowning my sorrows last night,” he said.
Paul smiled again, this time more genuine. “Yeah, I may have had a glass or two too much. Or a bottle.”
Darren waited until Paul had sat and swigged half his coffee before starting.
“I’m sorry about kicking you out last night. I was confused and a little hurt. Still, it was no excuse.”
“It’s okay.” Paul placed his coffee back on the table. “I kind of sprung it all on you. And I should have told you earlier.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. If you had it might have changed the way I feel about you, since I didn’t know enough.”
“And now?”
Darren shrugged. “What’s past is past. You’re not the man you were back then. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
The stress seemed to fall off Paul’s face in an instant. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, Darren.”
“And you have no idea how glad I am to see you. I missed you, you know.”
“I missed you, too.”
The pair exchanged a look that said it all. The relationship was advancing faster than Darren was used to, and he was loving every second.
Paul stood and stretched. “I need a shower. Last night’s didn’t cut it. You, uh, you want to come with?”
It was clear from the growing tent in his boxers that more than a shower was on his mind. Darren tried to look nonchalant as he stood and walked over to Paul.
“I could do with one, yeah. I came straight from my bed, pretty much.” He reached down and freed Paul from his shorts. “Looks like this needs some attention.”
Paul reached around and grabbed Darren’s ass, pulling him closer. “So does this.”
“Happy coincidence, that,” Darren said before leaning in and kissing Paul.
Paul responded in kind, bringing his hand up to Darren’s neck, gently holding him close as Paul pushed his tongue into Darren’s mouth. It was a hungry kiss, Darren needing the closeness and affection it brought after their night apart.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Paul said as he broke the kiss.
Darren responded with another kiss. With Paul’s words he realized that he’d felt the same, and that it had been a terrible thought. To never kiss or hold him again. It was clear he was falling in love with the man, and judging by the way Paul kissed back, the feeling was mutual.
They made it to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind as they both pulled them from Darren’s body, tearing stiches and ripping off buttons in the process. By the time they reached Paul�
�s spacious shower cubicle, they were both naked. Paul leaned forward to kiss Darren again, their cocks rubbing together in a way that had Darren quivering in anticipation, then opened the door and gestured for Darren to go first.
Once he was inside, Paul followed, then closed the door and set the water to a low heat. Just enough to keep them warm while they were in there. Paul’s hands met Darren’s shoulders at the same time as his huge cock met Darren’s ass. He gasped, then sighed softly as Paul began to massage his tight muscles, working the stress away and increasing the pressure in his cock.
“Today, we go slow,” Paul muttered softly in Darren’s ear. “For now, at least.”
His hands worked their magic, undoing the knots and sliding backward onto Darren’s back, then around onto his sides. As promised, Paul took his time, caressing every inch of Darren’s flesh while his lips fluttered over his neck and jaw. Darren could only stand there, his hands on the wall of the cubicle, and concentrate on what Paul was doing.
His hands worked their way down until they reached Darren’s hips, then slid around to the front. He bit his bottom lip as fingers brushed his pubic hair, mere inches from his almost-throbbing cock. Lower they went, ignoring his needs for the moment as Paul ran his hands down Darren’s legs, working the muscles as he went. By the time he was down to Darren’s feet, Darren had to fight the urge to jerk himself, just to relieve the tension.
Paul must have sensed his need, as he reversed direction, his hands quickly reaching Darren’s inner thighs.
“Tell me what you want,” Paul whispered beneath the noise of the shower as one fingertip brushed against Darren’s balls. “Tell me.”
“Touch my cock,” Darren said. “Stroke it.”
Paul’s hand slid up and gripped Darren’s shaft, slowly pulling the foreskin down off his cockhead. Just the hot water on the tip was almost enough, but when Paul slid his hand up the shaft and rubbed his thumb over the thin skin, Darren had to clench his jaw to stop from coming immediately.
Slowly, Paul circled his thumb on the head, then pulled away and began to work the shaft, his hand slick with soap that Paul hadn’t even seen him use. On each upstroke he lessened his grip, then once he was almost off the top, he’d tighten again and slide down once more.
“Just like that,” Darren managed to mutter. “Fuck, just like that.”
While maintaining the rhythm, Paul moved his other hand from Darren’s hip onto his back, then down lower. Darren jumped as he felt Paul’s finger run a ring around his asshole. Darren relaxed, and the fingertip pushed inside a short way, before sliding farther in, probing for his G-spot. He pulled out a moment later, only to return with two fingers, opening Darren up for what was soon to come.
“You like that?” Paul said as he slid his fingers farther inside.
Darren opened his mouth to say yes, but could only gasp as Paul found his G-spot. “Fuck!” he managed after a second.
He was close to coming now, and wasn’t sure he could stop it. He tried to tell Paul to slow, but Paul was back to stimulating Darren’s prostate, and words were again impossible. Just as he was about to finally come, Paul withdrew his fingers and stopped jerking Darren’s cock.
“I was so close,” Darren managed to say.
“I know, I felt it,” Paul replied. “But we’re coming together this time.”
His foot appeared between Darren’s and prodded them farther apart. Darren did as commanded, then spread his hands further on the cubicle wall, too. He looked up into the shower spray and shook his wet hair out of his eyes, then lowered his head again and forced himself to relax.
Paul’s cockhead met Darren’s asshole a second later, pushing, looking for entry. Darren relaxed further and the head slipped inside. Paul jostled for a better footing, then pulled out again, before pushing back in.
“I love that feeling,” he muttered as he repeated the action. “Feels so good.”
“It feels pretty fucking good from here, too,” Darren said.
Paul laughed and pushed farther in. “How about that?”
Darren hissed at the sensation. “Even better.”
“Then I’d better keep doing it, hadn’t I?”
He pulled out a short way, then pushed farther in until Darren was certain he couldn’t go any further. He was wrong. He groaned as Paul pushed again, filling him with his thick cock before reaching around and stroking Darren’s cock a few times. He stopped again, and Darren was silently thankful. He couldn’t last long with both, and he really wanted to come with Paul this time. It seemed important.
As Paul built slowly in speed, Darren worked his hips, pushing back against his partner when he pushed forward, and pulling away when he retracted. If the sensations lasted for eternity, it wouldn’t be long enough. He closed his eyes so he could better concentrate on the sensations, one hand occasionally stroking his cock, keeping him just below the point of no return. Paul leveled out at a steady pace, pausing only to reapply lube.
“I’ve not felt this alive in years,” he muttered into Darren’s ear.
Darren couldn’t agree more.
All of a sudden Paul seemed to speed again, and Darren realized that he was doing the same. Their needs had become synchronized, and Paul reached around and moved Darren’s hand so he could do the work himself.
Darren reacted to the increase in speed by slapping his ass down on Paul’s cock on each stroke, eliciting moans and soft curses from his partner. They built further in speed, and Darren felt the orgasm begin to crest. His fists clenched tight as he held them against the shower wall for support and he fought hard to hold off as long as he could, but it was in vain.
“I’m coming,” he gasped, his words choked.
Paul could only grunt in response. Darren came, the cum spurting from his cock in thick torrents. At the same time, Paul cried out, and Darren felt him come inside him once, twice, then three times, before he collapsed against Darren, his breath ragged.
“Fuck, that was incredible,” he managed to say after a few moments of heavy breathing.
“God, yes,” Darren murmured in reply.
With one hand he adjusted the shower’s temperature to cool them both off. Paul slid free, and Darren turned to embrace him. They held each other tight under the water until they both shivered from the cold. Paul reached around and turned the water off, then grinned at Darren.
“Well, we got it right that time. About time I christened this shower, too.”
Darren laughed and reached down to grab Paul’s cock. “Have I mentioned how much of a fan of this thing I am?”
“Really?” The cock started to swell from Darren’s touch. “Well, how about w—” The phone chirped in the other room, and Paul sighed. “Maybe later. That could be important.”
Darren let him go then turned the shower back on to clean up, before padding out into the bathroom to grab a towel. Paul didn’t reappear immediately, so Darren headed out into the front room to find him pacing, the phone in his hand hanging by his side.
“What’s wrong?” Darren said as he toweled his hair. “Gabriel?”
“Yeah. He just found out that the target I was supposed to kill has suddenly left town.” Paul smiled, though it was faint. “I need to see him, but if this goes right, he won’t be a problem for a while.”
Darren returned Paul’s less than confident smile. “Then I guess you’d better get going.”
Paul nodded and glanced down, as if only just realizing he was naked. “Better get dressed, I suppose.”
Darren walked over and dropped to his knees. “It can wait a little while, can’t it?”
Paul laughed and nodded. “Maybe a minute or two…”
Chapter Thirteen
Paul pulled his truck into the parking lot of a small supermarket a few miles from his apartment. Gabriel had chosen the meeting place this time, but Paul knew the area pretty well even if he hadn’t been in the store before. It was hard to sneak up on someone in a brightly lit store. Even so he was careful to check for
scents and keep an eye on the exits as he stepped through the door of the store.
Once inside he winced at the sharp smell of vinegar. In the corner of his eye he spotted a member of staff mopping up a spill in one of the aisles. Some drunk had probably knocked a few bottles down.
Paul made his way to the back of the store, eyes peeled but trying not to look suspicious. Gabriel had chosen the vegetable section as their meeting place for some reason. Maybe he needed to do his shopping, Paul thought with a smirk.
A tingle in the back of his mind told him that a Were was nearby, so he slowed and pretended to check a melon for ripeness while he waited. A moment later Gabriel appeared. With friends.
Paul cursed silently and put the melon back. The vinegar spill had been from one of the pack, to cover the smell of the nearby Weres. They probably would have waited out back until he approached, then came in before he had a chance to realize that he was sensing more than one Were.
“Paul, how lovely to see you,” Gabriel said.
Paul glanced over his shoulder, but another two pack members had appeared. Escape wasn’t an option. That left fighting. With a snarl he lunged toward Gabriel, only for a small explosion to go off in the back of his head as someone smashed a bottle over him. He staggered and fell in a shower of glass as the pack descended on him, kicking and punching him into submission. He fought for as long as he could, but there was only so much he could do. Spots flashed in his eyes as someone kicked him in the head. The world went black.
* * * *
Paul came to in a darkened room, chained to a cold metal chair. His head felt three sizes too big, but he’d heal soon enough. He shifted in the chair and found that it was bolted to the floor.
“I bet this brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Gabriel said from somewhere behind the chair.
“What the hell is this about, Gabriel?” Paul twisted in his chair, but it wouldn’t budge an inch. “I thought we had a deal.”
“A deal? You expect me to believe that the man just decided he fancied a last-minute package holiday to Spain?” Gabriel laughed. “I’m not a fool, Paul.”
