Before Mark could protest there was a brief knock at the door, and a man and woman in dark blue jackets emblazoned with PLANO CSI came in. Behind them was Delaney, dressed now and looking serious.
He introduced himself as Trickster’s CTO to the police officers. “I was informed that Mr. Fellowes had a home invasion tonight.”
The police officer’s eyebrows rose, but he nodded. “Do you have any idea why someone might have broken into Mr. Fellowes’s apartment, Mr. Smith?”
Now Delaney looked grim. “We do online security systems for a number of financial institutions. My guess is that the thieves thought Mr. Fellowes might have brought confidential information home. Unfortunately for them, we have a strict policy that all sensitive files have to remain onsite.” He glanced at Mark. “That being said, I feel that Trickster is partially responsible for this incident. Once you’re finished taking Mr. Fellowes’s statement, I’d like to make arrangements for him to stay somewhere else, at least until his apartment can be better secured.”
“As long as we know where he’ll be, that’s fine.” The police officer looked at Mark. “That okay with you, Mr. Fellowes?”
“Uh, yeah, that’s a good idea,” Mark admitted. He hated the generic blandness of hotel rooms, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep in his own bedroom tonight, not with a hole in the outside door. “Can I go pack a bag?”
“Of course. I’ll get the contact details from Mr. Smith.”
Head now truly pounding, Mark stood and headed into the bedroom where the CSI team was already busy dusting for prints. After throwing toiletries, underwear, a change of clothing and a clean suit into a carryon bag, he came back out and found the cops gone. Delaney, however, was waiting for him.
“Come on,” the taller man said, not quite putting an arm around his waist. “We need to talk.”
Mark nodded. About a lot of things.
Chapter Four
Delaney guided Mark outside. The other man slouched over, and Delaney noticed the pain lines around Mark’s eyes. The only blood he could smell was that of the attackers, but that didn’t rule out internal injuries.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Did they hit you anywhere?”
“No. Well, I banged my hip when I fell on the chair.” Mark rubbed his forehead. “I just have a blazing headache.”
“Oh.” That Delaney understood. “Adrenaline hangover. I’ll get you some water and Tylenol when we get home.”
“Home?” Mark straightened up. “What do you mean, home?”
“I’m taking you home with me tonight. You’ll be safer there than in a hotel.”
“Oh, no, hell no, you are not—”
“We also need to talk, remember? About the mate thing. Not to mention the whole shapeshifter thing. I don’t want to do that in a hotel room for obvious reasons.” Delaney sighed. “Don’t worry, your virtue is safe with me. I’ve got a fully loaded guest room with its own bathroom. You can stay there. Go ahead and lock the door if it makes you feel better.”
Mark colored at that, but finally nodded.
They got into Delaney’s BMW and pulled out of the apartment complex. The shifter guided the car through the dark Plano streets, almost missing Mark’s soft mutter of, “This is crazy.”
That was more like it. “Not really,” Delaney said. “If you think about it, the concept of shapeshifters is extremely common throughout human mythology and folklore. Gods cycling through various forms to seduce human maidens, women turning into foxes, werewolves and vampires, all that. Now you know why. There’s always a kernel of truth in every folk tale, after all.”
“I wasn’t talking about shapeshifting, although, yeah, saying that comes as a major surprise is an understatement. I meant....” He trailed off. “I’ve never even thought about kissing a guy before.”
“I’ve only done it a couple of times, myself.” Delaney glanced out of the corner of his eye and thought he caught Mark blushing again. “It didn’t seem to weird you out much.”
“No, it didn’t.” Mark sounded puzzled at that. “You’re, um ... you’re good at that. Kissing, I mean.”
“What can I say? I was inspired.”
Mark made a small noise somewhere between a cough and a choke, and turned to stare out the window. In the dark, Delaney allowed himself a small, hopeful smile..
****
They pulled into a pricey gated neighborhood on the north side of Plano. Mark tried not to feel intimidated by the luxurious houses, but even he was impressed when they pulled into the driveway of a meticulously maintained red brick Victorian.
“This is where you live?” He suddenly wondered if Smith had a wife and kids. The brief stab of pain caused by the thought surprised him.
The shifter shrugged. “Yeah. I know it’s big for one guy, but I get a lot of guests. And it’ll be a great house for kids someday.”
Mark felt an odd little tingle in his chest. He’s not suggesting ... he can’t be. I mean, just because he’s my mate doesn’t mean we can —shit. He winced. I called him my mate. Shit shit shit.
Grabbing his bag, he got out and followed Smith into the house. The décor was high-end casual but comfortable, with wooden floors and warm colors giving the place a welcoming feel. Smith gestured him upstairs, guiding him to a good-sized guest room with a desk, dresser, queen-sized bed and plush bedding. “Bathroom’s through there, complete with toiletries, and there’s some Tylenol in the medicine cabinet,” he said, waving at a door kitty-corner from the one they stood in. “The Wi-Fi password is in the top desk drawer, and I can set you up with VPN access to Trickster’s servers tomorrow if we need it. If you want to take a shower and get settled in, I’ll call Scott and tell him what happened.”
“I thought we were going to talk.”
The shifter gave him an oddly compassionate look. “I’d rather do that once you’re comfortable and your head isn’t trying to explode. Go take a shower. I’ll be back in a bit.”
He turned and left. Mark suddenly felt exhausted, the last of the adrenaline rush fading from his system. Shower. God, that sounds good.
Closing the bedroom door, he tossed his bag on the bed and started digging for clean clothes.
****
Delaney paced his bedroom, phone pressed to his ear. “What do you mean, maybe he was in on it?
A sigh drifted down the line. “I’m just covering all the bases, all right?” Scott said. “You have to admit it’s a classic honey trap scenario: cute little thing gets you all hot with mating pheromones, pretends to be attacked, and gains your sympathy and trust. Next thing we know, he’s asking if he could get higher access to the servers, take files home, yadda yadda. Are you telling me you’d say no to your mate?”
Delaney scowled. The Trickster CEO had listened to his story about the attack and implications to company security, then asked if there was a possibility that Mark could have orchestrated the attack. He knew it was Scott’s job to make sure there were no loose ends, but he didn’t like the implications about his mate. “That’s bullshit and you know it. For one thing, he’d have to know I was a shifter—and trust me, he didn’t. Secondly, how the hell could he fake a mating scent, especially one that was tailored to me?”
“I don’t know,” his Alpha admitted. “But this seems really coincidental with those hacking attempts on the Lone Star files last month. I know we moved the project to our sandboxed servers, but that may have just prompted our hacker to get physical access to them. And your mate may be that route.” There was a sigh on the other end. “Look, I hired him, so I’m sharing in the responsibility here. If you tell me he didn’t know anything, then I won’t argue. I just need to know we’re locked down on this, Del.”
“We are,” Delaney promised. “I swear to God, he had nothing to do with it. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll personally keep an eye on him.”
“Is that what they’re calling ‘pounding him into the mattress’ these days?”
“Fuck you.”
“Sorry,
I don’t bottom. Also, Carmen would kill you, and then I’d have to find another CTO.” Beneath the banter, he could hear the concern and determination in his Alpha’s voice. “You know the last thing I want to do is screw up your mating. But the sooner we figure out who’s trying to hack the Lone Star project, the better. If you can definitively clear Mark on this, it’ll be a load off my mind.”
Delaney pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Yeah, I hear you. I’ll do some digging. And tomorrow I’ll go in and install surveillance nodes on the network access. Maybe we’ll luck out and catch our visitor red-handed.”
“Sounds like a plan. Keep me updated.”
“Will do.”
Delaney ended the call and tossed the phone on his bedside table. He understood the importance of finding out who was trying to hack into Trickster’s servers. But God, this was a shitty time for him to have to play Sherlock, especially with his mate as the target.
Leaving his bedroom, he headed to the guest room and knocked on the door. “Mark? Can I come in?”
There was no answer. He opened the door and peered inside. Mark’s open bag was on the bed, and the bathroom door was shut. Behind it, he could hear the sound of the shower.
His natural curiosity kicked into gear. Quietly, he slipped into the room and closed the door behind him, ignoring the faint flicker of guilt. Come on, nosing around is what coyotes do. And Scott pretty much ordered me to check him out more thoroughly right? I’m just following my Alpha’s orders.
Mark’s bag turned out to hold nothing but a clean set of casual clothes, some underwear, and a dress shirt, suit, and tie. Delaney took a deep breath, savoring the warm, woody scent wafting up from the clothes. A powerfully attractive image of shucking off his clothes and joining his mate in the shower came to him. I could scrub him clean all over, yeah, then kneel down and rim him until he’s begging—
His enhanced hearing picked up a soft moan. He stepped to the bathroom door, listening. Another moan, almost muffled by the sound the falling water, and a familiar slicking sound.
Delaney went hot all over, and his cock sprang back to life. Oh, fuck. He’s four feet from me and he’s jacking off. Fuck, that’s so not fair.
His hand drifted to the front of his slacks, massaging the thick ridge there as he listened to his mate masturbate. When Mark grunted hard and came, Delaney was almost right behind him. Gritting his teeth, he pulled his hand away, willing his heartbeat to slow down as the shower stopped.
The bathroom door opened and Mark stepped out, rubbing a towel over his hair. Another one was wrapped around his narrow hips, and Delaney wanted to take it off with his teeth.
He cleared his throat. Mark yelped and spun, bumping into the dresser next to the bed. The towel around his waist started to slip, and Delaney caught a glimpse of pale, muscled hip before he yanked the terrycloth back into place.
Panting, he glared at Delaney. “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?” he yelled. “Do you even know how to knock?”
“I did,” Delaney said, trying to sound innocent. “You didn’t answer so I got worried. Didn’t know you were in the shower until I came in here.” And you were coming in there.
Without his glasses, Mark’s resemblance to a furious faun was even more striking. “God. I do not need any more of this tonight,” he growled.
“This what?”
“You, sneaking around and following me everywhere.” He scowled at Delaney’s groin. “Especially with another fucking hard on.”
For some reason, that cheered the shifter. “You noticed, huh?”
“Helen Keller would have noticed it, all right? Does it ever go down?”
“Not since this morning. I can’t help it, babe. I smell you and I get wood.”
“Oh, Jesus.” Mark edged next to the bed, clutching both towels now and looking hunted. “Look, I’m tired. I just want to put on some pajamas and crash, all right? I’ve had a really bad, weird day, so how about we can talk about shapeshifters and," he waved vaguely between them, "that other thing in the morning.”
Delaney ignored the slap of disappointment and nodded. “Okay. We’ll talk later when you’re not tired.” Although you weren’t too tired to jerk off in the shower.
Mark’s cheeks blazed to life. “You listened to me?”
Oh, shit, he can hear my thoughts already? “I didn’t mean to, but coyotes have really good hearing,” Delaney said defensively. “At least you got off. My balls are aching so much I can barely walk straight.”
“So go to your own damn bathroom and rub one out there!”
“It’s not about getting off, dammit!” Delaney yelled back, before catching himself. “Okay, it’s not just about getting off. God, I really wish you were a shifter. Then you’d understand.”
“Well, I’m not a shifter,” Mark snapped, “so you’re just going to have to explain it to the stupid human.”
“I -- Jesus.” Delaney sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down and find the right words. “Being drawn to a mate, it isn’t just physical. It’s emotional and spiritual as well.” He gestured at his groin. “Yes, I want to fuck you. That’s pretty damn obvious. I also want to know you. I want to talk to you, find out everything about you—where you grew up, what your family’s like, whether you like sports, what your favorite food is, your opinion on Steven Moffat, what you want to do with the rest of your life, all that. And I want you to get to know me, too.”
Mark wasn't interrupting him, so he plunged on. "I’m originally from Phoenix, I love movies with big chase scenes, I collect action figures, The Lord of the Rings bored me shitless in book form although the movies rock, and I think the Tea Party needs to be sent to its own little island where they can’t hurt anyone. And I really want to make breakfast for you tomorrow morning because I make killer pancakes, and dinner tomorrow night, then take you back to bed and watch The Avengers while we eat it. I always wanted to do that with someone.” He paused. “God, please tell me you like The Avengers.”
“Yeah.” Mark’s scowl had eased during Delaney’s monologue, but he still looked skittish. “Wait—back to bed?”
“I’m trying to be optimistic here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What I’m trying to say is, this isn’t just about sex. It’s so much more than that. And I know this is way too fast for you, and if it’s any consolation this is scaring the shit out of me, too. But sometimes that’s just the way it happens for us. Shifters, I mean.”
That was all he had. If it wasn’t enough to convince Mark, he didn’t know what else to do. “I’m sorry. I swear to God, this isn’t how I wanted it to happen,” he said quietly. “I’ll let you get some sleep. We can talk about everything in the morning.”
He turned to go.
“Wait.”
****
Mark clutched at the towel around his waist. He knew he was acting like an abrasive asshole. It was his default mode when he was nervous as hell. The logical part of his brain said that he should be pissed off at being stalked by a freaky coyote shapeshifter who claimed Mark was his mate, then getting talked into staying overnight in the shifter’s guest room. Not to mention the hard-on Delaney kept springing every time they were alone together.
The rest of his brain was screaming at him to drop the towel and walk into Delaney’s arms. During his shower jerkoff session, he couldn’t stop thinking about the handsome executive and his lean, chiseled body. He had tried fantasizing about Caren, he honestly had. But Delaney, with his sexy hands, broad shoulders, and perfect mouth, was the one who kept coming to mind. And the sudden, blazingly hot mental image of Delaney kneeling down on the wet tile and using that perfect mouth to swallow his cock to the root had made Mark come so hard he’d almost blacked out.
It made no sense whatsoever. He didn’t know anything about Delaney Smith, apart from the fact that the man was built like an underwear model and still managed to be smart, funny, and a fellow geek. And dammit, he still wasn’t gay.
But no matter what he did
, his brain kept spiraling back to thoughts about Delaney. Who had risked his own life to save Mark from being kidnapped. And then there was the kiss at the apartment...
Mark shivered. The kiss was when everything changed, if he was honest with himself. When Delaney kissed him, something deep inside his soul clicked, like a key turning in a lock. Like meeting the love of your life. Yes, he was still annoyed at the shifter for behaving like a jerk. But he also enjoyed Delaney’s snarkiness, and found the unexpected aspects of the man’s personality interesting. And yes, that blatant, balls to the wall statement of desire was hot as hell.
And underneath it all was a primal attraction so hot and deep that it scared him, and so utterly alluring that he just wanted to sink into it and bask. Somehow it didn’t matter anymore that Delaney Smith was not only a man, but a coyote shapeshifter as well. Illogical or not, Mark wanted —no, he needed to be in Delaney’s arms.
He just wasn’t sure how to do it.
Delaney paused, waiting on him. Mark cleared his throat. “I grew up in Waxahachie,” he said slowly. “I’m an only child, my dad’s a machinist and my mom volunteers with the PTA. I like football, enchiladas verdes, and I think Steven Moffat’s a good show runner but I wish he’d stop killing off my favorite characters. And I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life, but I’m starting to think that ... having you in it would be good.”
Swallowing hard, he dropped the towel. “And if you still want me, then let’s go to bed.”
Chapter Five
Delaney stared at his nude mate, mouth flooding so quickly with saliva that he was on the verge of drooling. Mark’s cock was dusty pink and cut cleanly, the vein-wrapped shaft already swelling and rising from a sizeable sac. Oh, fuck me blind. He’s gorgeous. And he wants me.
The shifter decided then and there that he’d do whatever Mark wanted. “You call the shots, all right?” he said, voice husky. “You say stop, we stop.”
Mark gave him a shaky smile. “What if I don’t want to stop?”
Trickster Page 3
