Naming His Mate (Black Hills Wolves Book 17)

by Limoges, M.

  Well shit, he should say something. Anything. Guilt drove him to pause and call over his shoulder. “I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to use the guest bathroom if you want.”

  Inwardly, he cringed. Perhaps he should’ve phrased that another way, but he didn’t bother to reiterate. Frankly, he was wiped out, and what the hell was the point? He continued on through the house with an air of indifference until he stood inside the privacy of his bathroom. Then he sagged against the door in relief.

  Crap. This night just got better and better.

  Straightening, he moved to the bathtub and bent to adjust the water temperature. His mind spun with a thousand thoughts, none of which made two bits of sense, as a flow of steam filled the room. When the water was to his liking, he stepped inside and faced away from the spray. Hot water pelted his back, soothing the tension running through his shoulder blades.

  Why is he pulling this shit now?

  Christ, of course I care for him. That was part of the problem. He’d allowed himself to care more than he should. He’d set himself up for an inevitable fall.

  Damien could toss out love and any other ridiculous words all he liked, but it didn’t change the fact the bastard wasn’t the settling type. It hadn’t taken Mike long to deduce as much in the three months they’d been together after meeting by sheer accident in Collins. What the hell did he really know about him in the first place?

  Their late night encounters. The secrets the man kept. Not to mention, he had no idea where his lover lived. Los Lobos. That’s about as far as he’d gotten. What was more disconcerting was he hadn’t bothered to run a check on him. The idiotic part of his brain reasoned Damien would tell him in time. He snorted in annoyance. Yeah, right. The bastard hadn’t been particularly forthcoming so far.

  He grabbed the soap, scrubbing it over his body in an attempt to wash away the bullshit of the day. This was why he despised hearing those three fucking words. They made him think too damn much.

  Tomorrow was his meeting with Dave Roberts, and he needed to be on top of his game. Since those men from the surrounding area had gone missing, the wealthy land developer had made it his personal mission to locate his business partner and employees. Someone had to ensure the pompous ass stayed within the bounds of the law, which meant it fell on Mike to keep him in line.

  Another day, another fucking headache.

  Once he’d rinsed away the soap, he twisted the shower knob and stepped out, drying his body with a towel hanging on a nearby hook. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he opened the door, flicked off the light, then pulled up short.

  Sprawled lazily on his back with an arm tucked beneath his head, the man currently driving him batshit crazy lay in bed with the linens barely covering his waist. A few beads of moisture clung to the light dusting of dark hair along his torso, indicating he’d showered as well. His emerald gaze bore into Mike as if he could divine every damning thought in his head.

  Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, he moved to his dresser and opened the middle drawer to grab a pair of pajama pants.

  “Don’t.” The rumbled word resonated in his ears.

  He peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Why? What the hell’s the difference?”

  “I want to feel your skin against mine.” Damien rubbed a hand over his stomach, drawing his gaze. “Come to bed.”

  How was it possible every damn move the man made oozed a raw sensuality that demanded his attention? Add the deep drawl of his Southern voice, those broad shoulders, his sinful grin….

  Irritated with the distraction, Mike snapped out. “I need sleep, not another fuck.”

  Aside from a tightening of his jaw, his lover remained unmoved. “Then come to bed.”

  Mike slammed the drawer and crossed the room to his bed. He yanked the towel from his waist and chucked it on the chair in the corner. As methodical as possible, he tugged the linens down and slipped into bed, turning on his side away from temptation and pulling the covers in place. He reached for the bedside lamp, throwing the room into darkness with a simple twist of the switch.

  He mumbled, “Night.” As if he’ll be here in the morning.

  The mattress dipped behind him, and suddenly, he was enveloped in the heat of Damien’s body. His lover laid one muscled arm over Mike’s stomach and tucked himself as close as possible. Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the overwhelming comfort he experienced in the other man’s arms. Against his better judgment, he closed his eyes and let the tension drain from his body. Before he nodded off, soft lips pressed against his neck followed by a quiet murmur.

  “Night, baby.”

  Chapter Three

  More than an hour had passed since Damien awoke, but he’d chosen to remain in bed, lying on his side, watching the inky night’s sky recede into dawn outside the bedroom window. He tightened his hold on the sleeping man in his arms. It was the first time he’d experienced the feeling of waking with his mate. Duty had kept him from doing so before, but lying here with Mike, he realized just what he’d been missing.

  He hadn’t intended on staying the night, but the sight of his foolhardy lover leaving the Den had infuriated him enough to switch his night patrol with his friend, Wes. He’d headed over to his stubborn sheriff’s house, determined to ask what the hell he’d bumped his damn head on. Then Mike opened that smartass mouth of his, and any plans to talk had been shot to shit.

  At least he did manage to spit out the three words that mattered most. Too bad his mate hadn’t believed him. His reaction afterward proved so. It had been a testament of his willpower not to restrain his lover and show him how much he meant the words all night long.

  Hell, he could charm the wings off a bee when he wanted, but damned if he knew how to tread lightly where Mike was concerned. The man provoked the beast lurking just below the surface in him, inciting his primitive instincts. His need to claim, to utterly possess, grew in intensity with each passing day he left his mate unmarked.

  In his arms, Mike stirred, the cadence of his breathing accelerating as he swam into consciousness. He stretched, his naked body arching and rubbing against Damien’s. Responsive to the heady sensation, his dick went from semierect to painfully hard in a heartbeat, as it always did when he was near his sheriff. He knew the moment Mike felt him prodding his thigh. His lover froze, his body locked with tension.

  He twisted around and stared, a look of sleepy confusion written on his handsome face. “You’re here.”

  The deep rasp of his voice sent a shiver through Damien. “Where else would I be?”

  Mike’s brow lowered, his blue gaze dropping to Damien’s throat. “You’ve never stayed before.”

  “I know, but some things change.”

  Uncertainty flashed in the other man’s eyes, which prompted a weight of guilt to settle on his chest. His mate needed assurance what they had was something more than just a series of quick fucks. Mike needed to understand he wasn’t just another temporary bed partner.

  With a jolt of startling clarity, it dawned on Damien that was precisely what he must think. Why the hell had it taken him this long to figure it out? Christ, all this relationship shit was unchartered territory to him.

  He ventured to ask. “What I said last night, why did it piss you off?”

  “Come on. It’s too early for this.” Mike glanced over at the clock on nightstand. “Shit!” He jerked upright. “I have to leave soon.”

  Damien shifted up onto his hands and leaned into his side. “Call in.” He licked the tight muscle joining his lover’s shoulder and neck. “Stay with me.”

  He could give two fucks about all the shit he had to do today. He’d much rather spend the time with his mate. Not to mention they were long overdue a chat. He nibbled on his neck, catching the stiff flesh between his teeth.

  “Can’t.” Mike groaned and tilted his head, granting him more access. “I have to meet with Roberts this morning.”

  Not the news Damien wanted to hear. He tightened his jaw, his teeth
almost puncturing his lover’s skin. A hiss slid past Mike’s lips, and he eased his hold, licking over the abused flesh. He grasped his mate’s hair in his hand and tugged his head closer.

  “Why do you keep messing with that asshole?” He spoke against his ear. “I’ve told you, he’s up to no good. He’s going to get you caught up in his bullshit, too.”

  Mike slipped free from his hold and slid to the edge of the bed. “I can’t ignore the fact five men have gone missing, Damien.” He shook his head. “I have a job to do. You know that.”

  “And what if it gets you killed?”

  “That’s not likely.”

  “You’re not invincible. Roberts is involved in some bad shit, and he’s going to drag you into it right alongside him if you’re not careful.”

  Mike scrubbed a hand over his face. “See, you start sounding really fucking scary when you say shit like that. Are you supposed to be one of the good guys or the bad? Add the fact you aren’t telling me a thing I need to know, I’m beginning to wonder why I haven’t arrested your ass. Better yet, why the hell are we together?”

  He narrowed his eyes at his mate’s stiff spine. “Are we?”

  “Are we what?”

  “Together?”

  A rigid silence filled the space between them for a full minute while he waited for his answer.

  His lover faced him. “Are we?”

  “I wouldn’t have said I love you if we weren’t.”

  Mike rolled his eyes and pushed off the bed to his feet. “Stop saying that.”

  Damien tossed off the covers and followed his retreating mate into the bathroom, watching the tight flex of his ass the entire way. Once he stopped in front of the sink, Damien had no problem invading his personal space. He stepped behind his lover, placing his hands on the counter and caging him in. Staring at each other in the bathroom mirror, he studied the differences between them.

  Though their heights were evenly matched, Mike’s pale skin and golden hair was in stark contrast to Damien’s tanned skin and dark-brown hair. A light beard covered his face, while his mate’s skin was smooth-shaven and flawless. Those captivating crystal-blue eyes, the same watching him with wariness in the mirror, had been the first thing to capture his notice when he’d bumped into Mike at the small diner in Collins by sheer accident. The accompanying sizzle of energy that swept through his body from their inadvertent contact was what had held his attention, and always would.

  Some shifters could sniff out their mates, while some experienced a charged surge of power with a simple brush of skin, but then, others scoured to the ends of the earth and never found their other half. Thank whatever god was on his side, he had been the recipient of one of those life-altering shockwaves when he’d encountered Mike.

  When he had the other man’s full attention trained on him in the mirror, he asked, “Tell me why I should stop?”

  His lover released a curse and tried to push out of his hold, but he locked his stance and shifted his weight, trapping the other man against the bathroom counter. He wasn’t letting him run this time. He wanted an answer. For the sake of his sanity, he needed an answer. Otherwise, how else could he make Mike understand what was between them was real.

  There would be no one else for him. Ever.

  “Tell me,” he demanded.

  Mike closed his eyes briefly before they snapped open, anger darkening his pupils. “You can’t say shit like that because you don’t mean it. How the hell could you? I don’t know jack about you. You keep your secrets and you never let me in. You come here late at night, stay long enough to screw me then you’re gone. I don’t hear from you for days then you just show up out of nowhere, and I let you in my fucking bed every single time.” He lowered his head for a moment, and then his resigned gaze met Damien’s in the mirror. “I don’t know who’s more fucked up, you or me. Still, you won’t stick around, and I know that. I’ll deal with it, but don’t start talking bullshit about love when it’s not necessary. I let you in my bed. Isn’t that enough?”

  He considered Mike’s words in silence. It hurt to hear how little faith his mate had in him, but he had to admit this was his own damn fault. Living most of his life in solitude, he’d never spoken of feelings and emotions. There’d never been the need. But at a time when it mattered most, his silence and the secrets he’d kept for the sake of his pack had left an excruciating fissure between him and Mike.

  Things would have to change, and fast, if he planned to keep Mike by his side for the rest of his life. Letting him go was not an option. The thought alone was enough to rile the Wolf inside him. He wanted everything from his mate, including his heart.

  “No.” He accentuated the word with a growl. “It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”

  While Mike’s jaw dropped open in surprise, he seized his lover’s hips and whirled him around until they stood face-to-face. He captured his lover’s gaping mouth in a wild kiss, commanding his mate’s absolute surrender. At this point, his Wolf would accept no less.

  The tension drained out of Mike, and he submitted to Damien’s seeking tongue and questing hands. As Damien drank in his lover’s flavor, he gripped his ass, pulling him tight against his own body. When their hardened lengths touched, he caught Mike’s moan, swallowing the sound as he devoured his mouth.

  Damn, but his sexy human brought out the dominance in him. He wanted to consume him, leaving him writhing in his arms with total abandon, lost in the grips of passion.

  Mike ripped his mouth free, panting for air. “I have to leave soon.”

  “Later.” Damien grunted, easily dismissing the weak excuse. Absolutely nothing could stop him from claiming his mate at that moment.

  He threaded his fingers through Mike’s hair, pulling his head to the side and baring his neck, while he reached between them and grasped the other man’s erection. He pumped his hand up and down the smooth length as he thrust his aching cock against his lover’s hip. Overcome with the need to possess, he licked his mate’s corded neck, preparing the spot that would carry his mark.

  “Touch me,” he rasped.

  Mike slid his hand between them and captured his erection, squeezing him with a firm grip. He grunted at the bite of pleasure and pain. After a few hard strokes, the tingling started at the base of his spine, and his balls drew up in anticipation of release. He opened his mouth, his canines lengthening, and sank his teeth into the thick muscle at Mike’s neck. The sweet tang of his blood hit his tongue at once, engulfing and hurling him into a sea of sensation.

  Stiffening, Mike choked out a hoarse groan, his hot seed spilling onto Damien’s hand and wrist. Tightening his grip on Damien’s length, Mike worked him with long, hard strokes. Then he added an unexpected twist of his wrist that tore an orgasm from deep inside. He retracted his canines and shouted as he came on his mate’s hand and stomach.

  Replete, he returned his mouth to his lover’s neck, licking over his wound to ease any discomfort. When he managed to catch his breath, he leaned his forehead against Mike’s. “I’m sorry I’m not a different man. But I swear to you, I mean it when I say I love you. You’re everything to me.”

  Mike didn’t say a thing. Instead, he crushed Damien in a fierce embrace. He was all right with the fact his lover hadn’t spoken. This was enough for the moment. They had their entire lives for his mate to return the words.

  Chapter Four

  Mike leaned back in the office chair, the springs creaking from his weight. Despite multiple attempts to focus on other shit, Damien continued to occupy far too much space in his head.

  Damien who? Good question, since he’d never bothered to ask his last name. Not that it’d truly mattered once he’d relegated the man to the position of fuck buddy from the start, but his lover had carved out a whole new set of rules earlier this morning. And honestly, he wasn’t too big of a man to admit the entire fucking thing left him quaking in his size twelve boots.

  Those words…Jesus Christ, those words had been a punch to the gut
. They made him feel something he hadn’t in years—hope. And for what? He hadn’t the foggiest damn clue, but it was there, in the recesses of his mind, a small constant buzzing that wouldn’t cease. The odd feeling had been such a foreign concept he almost hadn’t recognized it. Then there was the weird ache in his chest. No matter how much he rubbed, the pressure wouldn’t dissipate.

  Good Lord, he was losing his mind.

  Exasperated, he dropped his head against the chair and stared up at the cracked ceiling in his office, unsure when his life had boarded a nonstop train heading straight to hell.

  “Sheriff?”

  “Shit, what now?”

  He jerked his head forward, settling his gaze on Carlie, the department’s receptionist. With her face devoid of emotion, she simply blinked at him. Great, he was taking his frustration out on sweet, middle-aged women who’d been nothing but kind to him.

  “I’m sorry, Carlie. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  She offered a warm smile. “Not the first time I’ve heard the word. Don’t worry about it. Dave Roberts is here to see you.”

  He sighed. “Send him in, please.”

  The epitome of calm and collected, Carlie nodded and retreated from his office.

  Crap, he didn’t want to deal with Roberts today. Not while Damien’s words continued to tumble round in his head, messing up his focus.

  “Morning, Sheriff.”

  Carrying a tan briefcase, Roberts strolled into the office and closed the door as though he owned the place. Hell, for all Mike knew, the bastard’s family probably had a hand in building Collins’ Town Hall many years before.

  In his mid-forties, Dave Roberts was easy on the eye—medium height, light-brown hair, well-built physique. A confirmed bachelor with a set of the deepest pockets in South Dakota, he was every single lady in this town and the next over’s ideal of the perfect man.

  Of course, the wealthy businessman wasn’t his type. His tastes tended to run toward tall, dark, and brooding with a healthy portion of rough around the edges. Exactly like the man currently fucking with his head.