Undercover Lovers [Urban Affairs 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove)

by Gale Stanley

  A little voice of reason started a conversation in his head.

  Don’t look for someone else to blame, look for a solution.

  Isn’t that what I’m doing?

  No. Analyze the situation and then take the necessary action to put things right.

  But I am putting things right.

  Yeah, at the expense of someone’s livelihood. Isn’t there a better way to handle this? And I don’t mean drinking and staying away from the club.

  This is the only way I know how to get my life back to normal.

  Finding the right man was next to impossible, and yet he and Mike had found each other. Mike was honest and loyal to a fault. He’d been nothing but good to Jax and would do anything for him. But Jax knew damn well Mike would never accept another man in their bed, and he refused to jeopardize what they had for the sake of a threesome.

  He heard Slade’s footsteps outside his office, and he took another drink. How did the man know he was here? He must be spying on him. Fuck. If Slade wanted repeat sex, he was barking up the wrong tree. Jax wasn’t going down that road again.

  But this was as good a time as any to get the unpleasant business of terminating Slade’s employment over with. Slade’s presence in Dogtown had turned Jaxon’s life upside down, and it could not continue. He couldn’t run the man out of town, but he could get him out of his club. Once that happened he’d make sure they didn’t run into each other again.

  Slade rapped on the door and Jax yelled, “Come in.”

  Slade walked in, slamming the door behind him.

  “Sit—”

  Slade pulled something out of his pocket. A cell phone? He walked around the room with the object in his hand and a serious expression on his face.

  The man is fucking crazy. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for bugs.” Slade sat on the chair in front of Jaxon’s desk. He place one foot flat on the floor, the ankle of his other leg resting on his knee.

  I don’t believe this. “Since when are you so paranoid? Nobody comes in here.” Jax shook his head. “What happened to your face? You look like shit.”

  “Thanks. You should see the other guy. By the way, you don’t look so good yourself.”

  Jax ignored the compliment. “You look like you need a drink.” He held out the bottle.

  Slade took it. Jax pulled out another glass and slid it toward Slade, who poured a stiff drink. The man really did look like hell. “Quinn tells me you were sick last night.” Jax tried not to seem too interested. “Feeling better?”

  Slade knocked half of his scotch back before he answered. “Yeah.”

  “Good. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Jax hesitated, his tongue felt swollen and dry in his mouth, and no more words came out. His own reluctance to finish their relationship and get Slade out of his life tormented him.

  “Yeah, so what’s on your mind?”

  “I’m firing you.” There, it’s out.

  Slade looked poleaxed, as if the words were the last thing he expected to hear. “Why? Is your boy back?”

  “No.” Jax made a mental note to check up on Korey. It had been days, and the young wolf had never called him. “I’m doing away with the dancing. It stirs the men up too much, and they get into trouble.”

  “Well, I was going to quit anyway.”

  Now it was Jaxon’s turn to be surprised. “Leaving town?” His heart actually twisted at the thought.

  “Maybe. Maybe you are.”

  Jax narrowed his eyes at that.

  “I’ll cut to the chase.” Slade banged his glass on the desk.

  Jax kept his mouth shut. Slade had something on his mind, and Jax wanted to hear what it was. He refilled Slade’s glass, slid it over to him, and waited to hear what the man had to say.

  “Where did you go yesterday?” Slade asked abruptly.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Make it my business, Jax. We need to cut out the shit. This is important.”

  “What’s so important, you arrogant prick? I’m waiting for you to say your piece, and you keep talking riddles. As for me, I have nothing to say to you except you’re fired.”

  “I don’t mean to beat around the bush, but I’m usually as closed mouth as they come. It’s not easy for me to come clean, especially about this, but things have spiraled out of my control.”

  “What things? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Slade’s face went even more serious. “I have a story to tell you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’m not who you think I am.” Slade paused, suddenly pale and at a loss for words.

  Why am I not surprised? “Who are you? I want the truth.”

  “I’m an undercover agent working with the Division of Shifter Affairs.” He looked up, saw Jaxon’s face, and looked down again.

  “Division of who?”

  “Shifters. DSA is an offshoot of the FBI. The various Were groups have always lived in their own segregated neighborhoods. The FBI kept an eye on things and all was relatively quiet—until recently. Reports of civil unrest and meetings between the various Were groups kept coming in, so the Feds started this new division.”

  Jaxon’s shock had dissipated. Now his head swam with the implications of what this could mean. “What kind of meetings?”

  “The different groups have always functioned independently. Now they’re banding together and talking riots. Your name came up as being a leader in the community and a supporter of organized rebellion. According to the FBI you’re a subversive who wants to overthrow the government.”

  Jax started laughing.

  “This isn’t funny, Jaxon. They’re going to make an example of you. They want your head on a plate, and they picked me to deliver it.”

  Jaxon’s eyes flashed. “Get out.”

  “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m telling you all this because I want to help you.”

  “You can help me by leaving me the fuck alone. I’m as far from being radical as a palm tree in Antarctica.”

  “Did you hear what I said? This is the FBI. If they say there’s a palm tree growing in Antarctica, nobody is going to argue the fact.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “You can’t fight the whole damn government. It’s a battle you can’t win.”

  “And you care because why?”

  “You think I like spying on my own kind? I’m an outsider working on the inside. I put my own life on the line because I think I can help my people more this way.” Slade shook his head. “Cut me some slack. I’ve been agonizing over this assignment ever since I got here.” Slade stared at Jax intently. “Say something.”

  “I’m being set up.”

  “Yes. You are. And so am I. They’re claiming I went rogue. I’m a marked man.”

  “Why us?”

  “My guess would be because Dogtown is a high-profile Were ghetto in a town that’s terrified of terrorists. There’s a big shifter population living here. The Feds have no trouble manipulating reality, and humans are already off-balance, scared, and anxious. Making an example of a bunch of worthless shifters would be easy. It would be all over the internet in a matter of hours, sooner.”

  “Why are they so damn anxious to bring us down?”

  “We’re different. Humans automatically assume that anyone who is different is dangerous. It would be great if everyone felt comfortable in their own skin and accepting of each other’s differences, but it’s never going to happen. There will always be a minority group that the others can gang up on, and right now it’s us. They’re afraid their days are numbered, that before long they’ll be the minority race. Think about it. We’re stronger, we heal faster…”

  “I am thinking about it. If they keep ganging up on Weres they’ll drive some of the fringe element to acts that will be dangerous and lead to loss of life—on both sides.”

  “Yeah, well, I kept telling myself that as an agent of the law, I could help to keep the scales of
good versus evil weighted on the good side. I thought I was in a position to keep things in balance, but it’s a losing battle. No matter what the government says in the media, they’re not friendly to our kind. I had to learn the hard way. You gotta believe me, I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Yeah? Well, I don’t either, and it seems to me you brought the trouble with you. If you get out of Dogtown, maybe it will disappear with you. So get out.”

  Jax got up from behind his desk, intending to throw Slade out if he had to, but Slade stood immovable in front of him, like the mysterious monolith that appeared with the chimps in 2001: A Space Odyssey. He reached out to shove Slade, but the other wolf grabbed his hands and pulled him in. “It’s too late, Jax. We’re in this together. I have it on good authority.”

  “Whose?”

  “Michael Donovan.”

  “You ignorant, self-serving, loathsome son of a bitch.” Jax growled. “Why bring him into this? You don’t know shit about Mike, but you’ll say anything to involve me in your scheming bullshit.”

  Slade gripped his jaw with one hand and held his face steady so Jaxon had to look in Slade’s eyes. “Listen to me. Mike Donovan is my contact here. He works for the director of DSA, just like I—”

  Jax drove a knee into Slade’s groin and slammed him against the wall.

  “Umph.” Slade grunted. His head made a satisfying thud when it impacted with the hard surface. He grabbed his crotch and gasped. “No fair taking a nut-shot.”

  White-hot anger blurred Jaxon’s vision. “Who the hell do you think you are? Where do you get off making up shit like that?” He pressed his muscular forearm across Slade’s throat and pushed.

  Jax cut off his airway, and Slade didn’t even try to fight back. He started choking, and his eyes went buggy.

  For good or bad, this man meant something to him. His wolf pulled back. Suddenly Jax came back to his senses and pulled back. Slade staggered and started sliding down the wall. Jax came up close and held him up. “Damn you, Slade. Why don’t you fight?”

  Breathing heavily, he shook his head no then leaned back and closed his eyes. The scent of his sweat mixed with arousal made Jaxon’s own groin ache, but in a good way. Jax couldn’t resist the urge to touch his cheek. Slade opened his eyes cautiously as Jaxon’s fingers traced his mouth. Slade’s lips parted and sucked at Jaxon’s finger.

  “Slade…” A slow and smoky ecstasy came over him, and he couldn’t resist pressing his lips to Slade’s. As much as Jax wanted to taste him, he wanted the closeness more. This is what he’d been missing so desperately. Slade moaned in encouragement, but his kiss was soft and chaste. Jax deepened the kiss, teasing Slade’s lips until he opened for him. The kiss went from sweet to something more, something wild and hunger-driven. Slade’s hands on the small of his back held him close, and they ground their bodies together as if dancing to their own seductive tempo.

  The scotch made Jaxon’s head spin, or maybe it was because Slade was pressing his rigid erection against Jaxon’s groin while his tongue explored Jaxon’s mouth. The man was an aphrodisiac. His musky scent make Jaxon’s cock leak.

  Slade slipped his hands inside the waistband of Jaxon’s jeans and squeezed his ass as he pulled Jax closer still. Jax moaned at the friction between them, all thoughts of the trouble they were in gone like so much drifting smoke.

  Slade’s hands kneaded and caressed his flesh. One long finger circled his hole. Slade’s lips moved over his cheek, his jaw, his neck, licking and sucking his sensitive skin.

  “Slade …” Jax seemed incapable of stringing two words together. All he could manage was Slade’s name.

  “What, baby?” Slade murmured. “Tell me what you want.” Slade’s finger teased Jaxon’s hole. His tongue teased Jaxon’s ear.

  Jax shuddered and ground his hips against Slade’s body. Slade’s finger penetrated his hole, and Jaxon’s legs went weak. A moan slipped past his lips.

  Slade held him up. He pulled his finger out then thrust back inside.

  “You’re gonna make me come,” Jax muttered harshly.

  “Do it.” Slade pushed his finger deep, searching for Jaxon’s prostate. He stroked the sweet spot at the same time he sank his teeth into the tender skin between Jaxon’s neck and shoulder.

  Jaxon’s knees gave way, and he held on to Slade as he went off like a rocket, howling out his release. “Oh, fuck.” That was new. He’d never in his life come without touching his dick or someone touching it for him. “I think I need another drink now.”

  “I think we’ve had more than enough to drink.” Slade kissed him. “And I don’t want to fight with you again.”

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you.”

  “Better me than Mike.”

  Damn, he’d almost forgotten about his mate. “So now what?”

  “Now we meet Mike and figure out how we’re going to get out of this shipwreck.”

  Jax pulled back. “Don’t know if I’m ready to see Mike.”

  “He’s pretty torn up over this.”

  “He’s been lying to me all along. Why should I believe him now?”

  “Whatever he did, it was because he loves you.”

  Jax sighed. “Where?”

  “Do you know how to get to Hoboken?”

  “Yeah, I can get us there.”

  “Good.” Slade kissed him again. “We have some time. Whatta ya say we rest a few hours. You can kiss my booboo and make it all better.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was 1:00 a.m. in Dogtown, and inside The Kennel Club the wolves still partied. Nobody danced on the stage, but electronic music played and men weaved and swayed with their partners in a mating dance. Foreplay, that’s all it was. Pressing up against a sexy partner, caressing and stroking his body, it all led to the bedroom. Sometimes a guy couldn’t wait. Sometimes he didn’t want to wait. If a couple liked to be watched, there was always somebody who would enjoy the show.

  Slade watched for a few minutes then slipped out the back door before anyone saw him. The streets were dark and empty. Perfect. There were day people, and there were night people. Slade was a night person—but then most predators were. The city was quiet. All his wolfish senses were sharper because there were fewer distractions. He was in his element.

  Slade started up Jaxon’s Toyota and pulled around the front of the building to wait. Despite the mess they were in, Jax insisted on doing his last-minute bullshit and giving Quinn orders on locking up. Slade happened to glance up at the abandoned warehouse across the street. His keen eyesight picked up a man’s shadow in a second-story window. A human wouldn’t notice it, but few could hide from a wolf.

  Hurry the fuck up, Jax. Finally, Jax walked out of the club and Slade leaned over to open the passenger door. “Get in the car,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Jax leaned down and looked at him. “What?”

  “Get in the fucking car,” Slade said louder. “Now.”

  Jax got in, and Slade pulled away with a squeal of tires. He looked at the building as he passed, but all the windows looked dark and empty. Still, the knot in his gut didn’t go away. “Keep your eyes open, Jax. Someone’s watching us.”

  Slade glanced over at Jax in the passenger seat of the Toyota. The man looked exhausted. He wished they could just go somewhere safe and sleep for a week or two, but that wasn’t happening. It looked to be a long night.

  The glare of headlights in the rearview mirror told Slade he was right. They were being followed. Shit. Spotting a tail wasn’t difficult when the streets were empty, and Slade knew all the tricks. He ran a red light, and the dark sedan behind him followed. When he drove the wrong way on a one-way street and the sedan did the same, he knew for sure. Speeding up, he cut across sidewalks and drove through alleys. As soon as he had a chance, he made a bootlegger’s turn and took off in the opposite direction. Jax clutched the seat and hung on for the ride.

  Slade slowed down and checked the rearvie
w mirror. It looked clear. “I think I lost him.” He pulled his cell out to call Mike then circled around and drove toward the Holland Tunnel.

  * * * *

  The Sleep Inn, a bare-bones motel five miles from the Holland Tunnel, had a queen-size bed with a pink, orange, and green spread, a recliner, a dresser, two night stands, and a small desk with a straight back chair. Jordan Kendall turned the desk light on and shuffled aside the stationery and takeout menus to make room for his tape recorder. He nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked at Mike.

  Mike reflected for the hundredth time on how nerdy Jordan looked with his flattop haircut, horn-rim glasses and preppy clothes, khaki pants, and an Oxford shirt. He hoped his friend wouldn’t get freaked by the big bad wolves. “Sorry about the accommodations,” Mike apologized profusely.

  “I’ve seen worse. As long as we’re not bothered it’s okay with me.”

  Mike sat on the bed and checked his watch for the hundredth time.

  “It’s still twelve thirty,” Jordan told him.

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing. You’re doing me a big favor. This article will make me a household name. Just promise me I get all the exclusives coming up.”

  Yeah, if we live that long. “Sure. It’s a promise.” His head jerked around at the sound of footsteps, then a rap on the door. “It’s gotta be them.” Slade had called to say they were on the way, but for a few seconds he didn’t move. He didn’t know how Jax had reacted to Slade’s confession, and he was afraid to find out. Can’t put it off forever. Forcing himself to get off the bed, he looked through the peephole. Only Slade was visible, and his expression gave no clue to Jaxon’s mood. Mike opened the door and Jax slipped in behind Slade. He tried to catch Jaxon’s eye, but the man wouldn’t look at him, so he introduced them to Jordan and stepped back.

  Jordan approached Jaxon with a smile and an outstretched hand. The wolf ignored him.