by Zoe Perdita
He wasn’t Peter.
“I’m not going to claim you, Whelp. Not now. Not ever.” The words made his mouth feel like sawdust.
Wild’s face crumpled, though he kept his eyes wide. “Why? What the hell is wrong with me? I’m – I’m not weak!”
“I never said you were weak, but I did say you were young. Believe me, this feeling isn’t going to last. It never does.”
“So you had another mate? One before me? Is that how you know?” he asked, his voice cracking on the last word.
Sometimes being a wolf was much more difficult than being human. “I don’t buy the idea of a mate for life, no matter what I feel. Feelings change. That’s life. I’m doing you a favor, Whelp. Trust me.”
The little wolf’s eyes flashed. “I’ll prove you wrong. This won’t change. Why save me? Why let me stay? If you don’t want to claim me, why not let the hunter kill me and get it over with?”
The white wolf gritted his teeth. Why did he have to ask all the questions Caleb asked himself? The truth was, shoving the little wolf back into the woods felt wrong at the moment – it always had. “That has nothing to do with whether or not I claim you. I’d protect any wolf from a hunter.”
Wild sneered. “You didn’t even tell Sam there was a hunter around!”
The man snorted and frowned. Even if he’d lived alone for five years, the little wolf had a good eye for bullshit.
Being alone isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. Well, it was a hell of a lot less stressful than this!
“Fine. I lied to protect you from his pack. Would I save them from the hunter? Yes, but that’s because I do like Sam, he’s a good kid. But he’s just like you – a kid. The only thing that will change that is age. Are you going to stick around for five years? You know how old I’ll be by then?”
Wild shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Maybe he didn’t. Youth had a way of dismissing things that seemed important when you were older. “Fine. I guess we’ll both have to see.”
The little wolf stalked up to him, his golden skin slick. His musk filled Caleb’s nose with its heady aroma, and the man set his jaw.
Wild’s eyes burned with determination. “I proved everyone else wrong. I’ll prove you wrong too.”
The white wolf turned back to his work. If Wild stuck around much longer, he might be right. But Caleb couldn’t throw the little wolf out to the hunter (who he also had to stop).
Either claim the whelp or let him die?
What kind of choice was that?
Caleb turned in his bed, the bright sunshine falling in bands through his blinds. Another weekend – another day with little to do. Well, not exactly.
He could find Peter, or the werewolf could find him and then . . .
His being tingled at the thought, in anticipation for the gorgeous man. Ever since that moment in the park, Caleb couldn’t purge Peter from his head. The werewolf – the person who could rip him to shreds like he’d done to that rogue wolf – was also the hottest guy he’d ever met.
But Peter wouldn’t hurt him, right? The werewolf wanted to do other things instead, and Caleb had no reason to deny any of it, especially when it felt so good.
The smell of cooking drifted up to his room, and he kicked off the covers and slipped on his sweats. Maybe if he wandered around town he’d run in to the wolf – and hopefully not a different werewolf he didn’t like. Though his body might like it, he thought and frowned.
Over breakfast, he stared out the window at the blossoming trees, their buds ready to burst any moment. He knew what they felt like.
His mom rattled on about the coming tourist season and mentioned spotting a stranger around town, a handsome man who was staying at the Oak Hollow Inn.
“What?” Caleb said and dropped his toast onto the plate, jelly smearing across his palm.
His mom shrugged, her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, the same pale blond as Caleb’s own. “Cathy said he was staying there. Too early for most, but maybe he likes the crisp weather. I wonder how long he’s going to be in town?”
Was that Peter or someone else? “The Oak Hollow?”
His mom nodded, frowning at his mess. “Eat your food, don’t throw it. Maybe we can entice him to switch reservations if he stays much longer. God knows we could use the money.”
Caleb glanced at the chipped edge of their plates, and the peeling paint on the side of the cabinets. At least their guests weren’t permitted in the kitchen. The rest of the house was as neat and tidy as possible, but the linens were wearing down – the floral wallpaper fading after all those years. Even the outside of the Victorian could use a fresh coat of paint; something he’d have to do once the weather permitted it.
“Yeah,” he mumbled and ate the rest of his toast in one bite.
Peter in his home. The idea sent a shiver through his body. What would the werewolf do? Come to his room in the dead of night and . . .
“If you see him let him know we’ll give him a discount,” his mom said.
“How will I know him if I see him? What if there are several tourists in town right now?”
His mom waved her hand, like that sort of thing didn’t matter, and picked at her eggs. “Tell whoever you see we’ll give them a discount. You know what it’s been like this year. Summer can’t get here fast enough.”
It was the same every year, but saying so would just start an argument. His mom seemed to have a selective memory when it came to the past. Life was good when their bed and breakfast first opened, she’d say. Yeah, and they also had plenty of money from his dad’s pension. Now that money was gone, and Caleb hadn’t gotten a Social Security check since he turned eighteen before Christmas.
Her eyes crinkled when he nodded. “Good. You’ll have to do some extra work this summer. I think this could be our year with the Billings going out of business. Think of all the reservations we’ll have to fill.”
Caleb bit his lip as she rambled about the work he’d have to do (for free) once the tourist season arrived in full swing. No college. No future. He’d work at her failing business until the bank came for them.
Or a werewolf, he thought, his stomach clenching. Would Peter stay that long? Or would he disappear into the real world and leave Caleb to rot in this tiny town for the rest of his life?
“I’m going for a walk,” he muttered and carried his plate to the sink.
“Don’t forget what I said. Give him a discount, but not too big of a discount. Maybe ten percent.”
“Right.” Just like his chances of living his own life – ten percent.
His walk took him to the Oak Hollow Inn nestled next to Lake Michigan. It wasn’t a bed and breakfast, but an actual hotel with cheery yellow paint and white trim. Several oak trees littered the landscape, trailing across the lawn and sprouting new growth from every branch.
Caleb shoved his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. Would Peter be able to smell him all the way out here? Or maybe his mom was mistaken and some other tourist was staying at the inn.
He glanced at the beach, but the memory of that rogue wolf’s blood spilling on the sand filled his mind. That’s not an experience he wanted to repeat – no way in hell.
Instead, he leaned against a tree and hoped none of the staff noticed him loitering. Typical teenager behavior, but he was no longer a typical teenager. He was sort of kind of lovers with a werewolf – or was that just a one-time thing?
Caleb was lost in his thoughts when the footsteps padded toward him across the lawn. Peter smirked when he glanced up, the man’s hair stylishly messy and his black coat hanging open. The air was perfectly cool, maybe even warm enough to shed that thing, if he wanted.
“I caught your scent on the breeze, boy. Did you come to see me?”
The young man swallowed the lump in his throat. Admitting that he wanted to see Peter sounded stupid. Admitting how much he thought about the damn man over the last few days was even worse. Why was he here again? Dammit!
“Uh, well, my
mom wanted to know how much they’re charging you. She can give you a ten percent discount if you stay at our B&B, the Lakeside Bed and Breakfast,” he muttered instead.
Peter’s eyebrows shot up into his dark hair. “Stay with you?” He leaned into Caleb, his breath brushing the young man’s ear. “Do you think that’s a good idea? How will I be able to resist such a perfect example of wolf’s bait if I’m sleeping in the same house?”
Caleb’s skin prickled, as if electricity charged through his veins. “No, but I don’t really care. I . . . I like you.”
Shit! Why did he say that? He was an adult now, not some simpering middle schooler with a crush!
The werewolf’s fangs glinted. “You only like me?” he asked and his slender finger trailed over the young man’s full bottom lip.
Caleb took a deep breath, willing his cock to stop pounding like a jackhammer. For the first time in his life, he didn’t give a shit if anyone in town knew the truth about him. Who cared, as long as he had Peter by his side?
“What else do you want me to say?” he breathed.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure, but your body seems to know. Perhaps you just want me to stay with you so we can fool around in your bedroom. Is that it?”
The young man’s cheeks burned. “I’m asking for my mom, not me!”
“Oh? It hadn’t even crossed your mind? I. Think. You’re. Lying.”
Caleb couldn’t have looked away for all the money in the world. Peter’s whole body taunted him. The man’s presence overwhelming him with a need he’d never known.
“I already said I liked you. That’s not enough?”
“I don’t think that’s the whole story. Like is so juvenile. Are you still on the playground? I think this,” his finger trailed down Caleb’s stomach, “is more than mere like.”
His whole being sizzled under the touch. “Fine. I want you. Is that what you want to hear? You know I can’t help it.”
“And that’s why you want me to stay.” It wasn’t a question, so Caleb had no reason to deny it. If only his cheeks didn’t flush so easily.
The young man shrugged.
“Do you have any idea what I might do to you? The things that may transpire if I stay in your home?” The man’s lips brushed the edge of Caleb’s strong jaw, and the young man grasped Peter’s shoulders, his muscles tense.
He had a very vivid imagination – Peter’s body pressed against his. The man’s throbbing cock in his mouth (again) or perhaps something else. . .
“Like what?”
Teeth pulled at his earlobe, and Caleb hissed in response. “I might claim you, boy.”
His mind fogged with lust. He didn’t really know what the hell Peter was talking about, but the other wolf said the same thing. “Claim me for what?”
A palm grazed the small of Caleb’s back, groping his ass. “Fuck you – and there isn’t a damn thing you could do to stop me.”
Caleb couldn’t imagine why he’d want Peter to stop. This wolf’s bait thing really was getting to him. “Who says I want to be your bottom?” he managed, his words as slow as molasses.
Peter chuckled, lips pulling at his sensitive ear. “Who says I’d give you a choice?”
The young man’s stomach turned a flip at the threat, his cock ready to burst. That’s not the sort of thing that should turn him on, but with Peter it just happened. Would it be the same with other wolves?
Probably. He was wolf’s bait.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Caleb fought to control the spark igniting his body. “Well? Are you going to stay or not?”
“Maybe. I assume you’ll have to show me around.”
He stared at the werewolf, his lips parted and his breath heaving. “Now?”
“If you want me to stay with you, I’ll need to be convinced. Think you can do it?”
The wolf’s thigh rubbed between Caleb’s legs, friction setting fire to his groin.
“Yeah, but what about this?”
Peter raised an amused eyebrow. “Untuck your T-shirt.”
Caleb frowned but did as the man said. Even if his body begged for it, messing around in public wasn’t a good idea. Not now, anyway.
Leaning back, the wolf smiled just like a hungry animal. “Well, show me the way.”
The young man bit his bottom lip hard, and walked down the street. He shoved his hands into his pockets and willed his erection to subside. They wandered toward the town proper, back a few streets to the bed and breakfast. A few of the locals greeted them, casting Peter curious glances. At least they didn’t notice Caleb’s slowly fading hardness.
The knot in his stomach clenched the closer they got to his home. He was bringing a werewolf right to his front door. What if the man wanted to do something, like eat them? If Peter wanted to hurt him, he could’ve done it several times already. It didn’t make sense for him to do something like that out of the blue.
He wasn’t like that rogue wolf. Why else would he take the time to explain Caleb’s predicament? Hell, Peter didn’t even come on to him until the young man practically begged for it. He was nothing like that other wolf.
“Um, this is it. I know it doesn’t look like much, but the rooms are clean and my mom makes decent food – delicious food, actually.”
Peter’s eyes trailed over the house, and Caleb frowned. Looking at it now, the faded blue paint and weed-ridden garden, told signs of neglect. No wonder they didn’t get the same amount of business as other inns in the area. Why would someone as refined as Peter want to stay in a dump like that?
“Interesting. What’s it like inside?” he asked.
Caleb walked up the stairs, the steps creaking under his shoes, and opened the front door. “Mom?” he called.
No answer. She must’ve gone out for groceries.
Peter’s presence filled the air behind him. “Hmm,” he breathed on the young man’s neck.
Caleb stepped forward and pointed up the stairs. “The rooms are up there, unless you want to see the downstairs too.”
Hands gripped his shoulders, digging into the muscles. “I want to see everything. I need to make an informed decision, after all.”
Frowning, Caleb showed him the sitting room, with the threadbare antique couch – the dining room with the polished, but chipped wooded table, and even the little sunroom on the back porch, complete with limp plants in their pots.
Peter’s face remained bland. He didn’t even raise an eyebrow at any of the obvious signs of wear. Then they headed up the stairs, and Caleb showed him all the guest rooms on the second floor. If the man liked the shabby décor and the neatly made beds piled with mix-matched pillows, he didn’t say.
“Where’s your room?” he asked as they stood on the landing, after peeking in the second floor bathroom.
The young man licked his lips. “Third floor. My mom’s is on the first.”
“Oh? You have it all to yourself up there?”
Caleb shrugged. “It used to be an attic – it’s not very big or anything.”
Peter’s lips quirked. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
The young man’s skin prickled as he headed up the stairs. The werewolf was really going to come into his room. Had he bothered to pick up his boxers? Did the man care? Caleb’s hand trembled as he turned the knob, holding the door open for the wolf. Only friends had ever set foot in there before – never a potential love interest.
Peter’s eyes trailed over the little double bed with the blue comforter, the various posters and memorabilia lying around, and turned to Caleb. At least the werewolf didn’t wrinkle his nose in disgust.
“Well?”
The man’s eyes shone, and his fangs looked sharper all of a sudden. “Get on the bed,” he growled.
Caleb’s heart slammed in his chest. “What?”
With one hand, Peter shoved him back. The young man bounced on the bed, his breath knocked from his lungs. How the hell was the man so strong? Was that another werewolf thing?
�
�Look at you,” the man grumbled, and tossed his coat over Caleb’s desk. It upset a cup of pens that clattered to the floor.
“What about me?” he said, hating the breathy edge to his voice.
Peter grinned, looming over the bed “You look so delicious like this. So perfect.”
His fingers groped at the button and zipper on Caleb’s jeans, pulling them open with practiced ease. The young man’s mind reeled, his body igniting with re-kindled lust at every touch.
“Well? How are you going to convince me to stay here?” Peter asked, his hands gripping onto Caleb’s hips like they’d never let go.
What the hell was he supposed to do? Werewolves were fucking weird. “I don’t know! What do you want me to do?”
The man tugged at Caleb’s jeans, inching them down his hips and thighs. Without a word, the wolf tore off Caleb’s shoes and socks, dropping the pants on the floor next to them. The young man did nothing to stop the assault as his hardened cock pressed into his stomach, the man’s hungry eyes taking him in.
“What do you think? Come on, you know me better than that.”
With burning cheeks, Caleb tore off his jacket and pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing his naked body, all solid muscle, to the wolf. “You wanted to see me naked, right? Am I a treat or whatever you said?”
Peter leaned back, and his eyes gleamed. “More than a treat, I think. A prize, actually. Have I won you, boy?”
Caleb didn’t know what the man was talking about, but every word sent another ache to his groin. “Yeah, I guess.”
The man’s slender fingers traced his flank, upsetting the pale hair. His body hovered above Caleb’s own, his eyes hooded and sharp. “Then prove it,” he whispered.
“How?”
“Turn over, and I’ll show you.”
Caleb’s mouth hung open. Did he hear that right? Turn over? Did that mean –
“Well,” Peter growled. “Are you going to be good wolf’s bait, or am I going to have to entice you?”
Caleb licked his lips. How did his mouth get so dry all of a sudden? “Entice me how?”
The wolf’s eyes picked out a sliver of sunlight and reflected it back at Caleb. “I have my ways. I take it you want to make this difficult?”
