by JL Merrow
“Not fair. You need to be naked too.” He leaned back, and I undid his shirt with shaking hands. The soft fabric was warm from his body as I slid it off his shoulders. I felt a crazy urge to lift it to my face and breathe in his scent—but damn it, I had the real thing here. I tossed the shirt aside and waited impatiently while Christoph slid out of his jeans and boxers in one fluid movement.
I hadn’t gotten a good look at him before. I made damn sure I didn’t make that mistake twice. His cock was a thing of beauty, rising proudly from its nest of light brown curls. It had a slight bend to the left, as if it was leaning over, trying to reach me. I liked that idea. Hell, effort should be rewarded. I slithered down the bed to take him in my mouth, the salty, male taste of him only making me hungrier. How the hell had I waited so long to do this?
Christoph let out a deep groan. I sucked him as deep as I could without gagging, then lifted back up until only the crown of him was in my mouth. I got busy with my tongue, running it around the head, teasing at the slit and that little place on the underside that always makes me go wild when guys give it the attention it deserves.
“Fuck!” Christoph damn near lifted us both off the bed as his hips jerked convulsively, his cock doing its best to poke a hole in my cheek. I figured I’d better leave off if I wanted more than this from him.
And God, I wanted more. I needed more. I lifted my head, the salty taste of his precome still filling my mouth. “Got any condoms?”
Christoph nodded and reached over to his bedside drawer, grabbing a handful of foil packets. He handed one to me and lay back to see what I’d do with it.
I guess he was wondering if I’d chicken out again. No chance of that. I ripped open the condom packet and rolled the latex gently over his erection. Then I searched around in the mess of foil packets until I found one that was lube and drizzled it over him and over a couple of my fingers.
As I reached behind to open myself up, Christoph came back to life. “Let me,” he said, pushing me gently onto my back. I pulled my legs up to give him access, and he shoved a pillow under my ass. I was expecting him to get right down to it, so it caught me by surprise when he bent down to take me into his mouth.
I guessed I must have something of a BDSM kink of my own, because lying there knowing the mouth around my cock could sprout vicious fangs at any moment was shockingly, unbelievably hot. I groaned as Christoph’s tongue rasped up the length of me, stopping at that spot I’d teased on him earlier. “You’re…gonna…kill me, you know that?”
And then he shoved two fingers up my ass. I nearly came right then, holding myself back by sheer bloody-mindedness. I guess he could tell how close I was as he didn’t take too long stretching me out. Smoothing the lube over his sheathed cock, he pushed my legs back farther and lined up—then stopped, the bastard. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, looking me in the eye.
“Asshole. I’m ready.”
His lips quirked, and he pushed forward. I felt myself stretched wide to accommodate the blunt head of his cock, then filled so damn full I couldn’t believe my body could take it—but God, I wanted it. I wanted it all. For the first time in way too long, I felt whole again. Complete.
“More,” I gasped, willing my muscles to relax and let him in.
Christoph’s expression was tense, almost pained as he drove into me with glacial slowness. He swore softly, his eyes screwed up tight—then opened them to stare at me without speaking. There was that same scary vulnerability about his expression for a moment, and then it softened, dwarfed by my own need for closeness, for him, that must have been written on my face like a goddamn neon sign.
“You can move,” I told him probably a little sooner than I should have, but damn it, I was as desperate as he had to be for things to get going properly. He moved—and then I was past all coherent speech. I could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of me, owning me. Piercing my soul as he penetrated my body.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered, and I was only too happy to obey.
I groaned with relief as my hand wrapped around my aching cock—and again as Christoph slammed into me, hitting my gland and sending a jolt of electricity through my balls. His hands were on my hips, pulling me onto him as he thrust forward again and again. I tried to keep to his rhythm but my coordination was shot to hell. It didn’t matter though—every slap of his balls against my ass marked another level of sensation. I climbed higher and higher, almost afraid to let go and fall—but then there was no turning back. The pressure in my balls built up and up until finally I gave a strangled cry as I went over the edge, shooting my load all up my chest. Christoph muttered something I couldn’t make out, and his jaw went slack as he followed me on that leap. Feeling him come wrung an extra spasm out of me that was almost painful, I was so damn sensitive. I gave a deep groan as my vision went black for a moment.
When my eyes started working again, I saw Christoph was kneeling above me, breathing hard. His chest was heaving and slick with sweat, and his hair hung around his face like silk, brushing the scarred side and the unblemished side with equal softness. His eyes were the deepest blue I’d ever seen, and they were fixed on me as his lips quirked up again in that half-smile of his.
He was beautiful.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I don’t know how many hours had passed before I woke up with my heart racing—sitting bolt upright. Had it been a nightmare?
No. It came again—an anguished, desolate howl that split the night and filled the house with despair. Beside me, Christoph had turned on the lamp and was already pulling on his pants. “Silke,” I said, unnecessarily.
He put a hand on my shoulder. “Yes. Schreiber must have died. I’ll see to her. Go back to sleep.”
Like that was going to happen.
I guess he caught my expression. “If you can,” he amended. “If not, I think Ulf might be awake too.”
Damn it. I heaved a sigh, then hauled my ass out of bed, pulled on my jeans and headed off to Ulf’s room. The kid was sitting up in bed, hugging his knees. “Hey,” I said.
He gave me a shaky smile. “Hey. Was that…?”
“Schreiber’s dead, yeah. At least, Christoph seemed pretty certain. Mind if I…?” He shook his mop of red hair, and I sat down on the bed. “You okay?”
He nodded. “I don’t get why Silke’s so upset. He wasn’t very nice to her—he never let her go out, and he always ordered her around.”
I shrugged. “I guess he thought he was protecting her. I mean, hell, I won’t be nominating him for any parenting awards, but I guess in his own, twisted way he was looking out for her.”
“And now she’s got your American friend.” He looked sad. I felt bad for him, although in all honesty, I figured Silke was better off with Jon. Ulf was pretty naive, for a werewolf.
“You and Christoph—are you…” He blushed. “Only Michael told me—”
“Yeah. We are.” I didn’t add, “You got a problem with that?” because hey, this was Ulf—so damn PC that even if he did have a problem, he’d never dream of admitting to it. Plus, it had just occurred to me how much he’d missed today. “Uh, did Michael fill you in on all the other stuff?”
“About where we came from?” Ulf ducked his head, locks of hair falling haphazardly around his face. He looked around twelve. “Yeah.” It came out a little muffled.
“And…you’re okay about it?”
He shrugged but didn’t look up. I figured that was teen-speak for, “No, and I don’t want to talk about it.” Poor kid. I hoped Schreiber was burning in hell for what he’d done.
I wasn’t sure if Ulf would welcome a hug, so I patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “Can I get you anything? Uh, a hot drink?” Jeez, I’d be offering to tuck him in and read him a bedtime story next.
“I’m okay,” he said, lifting his head to flash me a faint smile.
I stumbled back to Christoph’s room and fell into bed, barely pausing to take my pants off first. The day was catching up with me fast
—I wasn’t sure I’d ever been this weary in my life before. I dozed fitfully, waking when Christoph slipped under the comforter and put his arms around me. The scent of him eased some of the tension I’d been feeling even in my sleep. I pressed back into the warmth of his embrace and muttered something even I didn’t catch.
“It’s okay,” he murmured in my ear, a low vibration I could have listened to all night. “Go back to sleep.”
Breakfast the next morning was so late we might as well have called it lunch. Silke cooked bacon and sausages, and I wondered if I was the only one who felt a little weirded out being served food by a killer. I guess it helped to take her mind off her dad.
“Are you going back to the wolves?” I asked when she finally sat down next to Jon to eat something herself.
Silke nodded.
“Jon? How about you?”
“I’m staying with Silke.” He smiled, putting an arm around her skinny waist. “The zoo dudes say it’s okay if I don’t get turned, but I’m still going to. I want to share it all with her.”
Great. Next time anyone hurt one of her family members—assuming she had any left—there’d be the two of them to tear out his throat. I figured I’d be giving those zoo dudes a wide berth from now on. Not that I hadn’t planned to anyhow. “Well, take care, okay?”
“You too, man. Maybe I’ll see you around, hey?”
“Maybe.” I smiled back so damn hard my face started to ache.
Michael leaned forward on the table, looking tense but resolute. “We’re going too. Björn and Patrick and me. My family has a farm near Regensburg. They raise chickens. They’ll have plenty of room for us to stay, and it’s near to the forest.” He was staring straight at Christoph. I realized he was waiting for permission.
Christoph nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Michael visibly relaxed. He turned to his right, where Ulf was picking at some fried potatoes, having demolished half his body weight of meat. “Ulf, you’re welcome to join us.”
“Thanks, but…” Ulf shook his head. “My family is in Berlin.”
“Guess all the kids are growing up and leaving the nest, huh?” I muttered to Christoph.
He gave me a sidelong look. “I didn’t realize you were such a family man.”
“Hell, no. I’m looking forward to getting you to myself at last.”
For a moment, Christoph looked startled. He pushed his chair back and stood. I guessed it must be beneath his dignity as pack leader to do the dishes. At any rate, he carried his plate to the sink and swept out of the kitchen. I decided it must be beneath my dignity too and followed, although I didn’t like to examine too closely just what about my position in the pack warranted it.
I knew where he was going, though, so I was damned if I’d let him go alone. Sure enough, he headed straight for Schreiber’s office and switched on the computer.
“You know, he may take a couple days to think this over. It’s a big thing we’re asking—you can’t expect him to answer right away.”
“Maybe not,” Christoph agreed, but he still opened up the email program.
Damn connection speeds. It took around a year and a half for the emails to come through—but there among the sales crap and the Viagra ads was a message from Dr. L.
P.
I am unable to come to you but suggest you bring him to me.
There followed an address with a Berlin postcode. I recognized the first three digits as from an area way out on the edge of town.
Hot damn. We had him. I stared at the screen, half thinking I’d just imagined it, and the email would disappear if I took my eyes away.
“Unbelievable,” Christoph breathed—and that snapped me out of it.
“Too damn right. Christoph, listen to me. This is too easy—too perfect. It has to be a trap.”
His eyes narrowed—and then he shook his head. “No. Leitner has no reason to suspect anything.”
“But he’s invited us to his secret lair!” It sounded corny when I said it out loud, like I’d walked out of an old Bond movie. Then again, for all I knew, Leitner’s hideout came complete with booby-trapped lift and a tank of piranhas in the cellar.
Probably not a fluffy white cat, though. In the circumstances.
“He’s invited us because we promised him a breakthrough. He’s a scientist—he can’t help but be curious.”
“Then why doesn’t he come here like we asked him to?”
Christoph huffed impatiently. “Maybe he feels more secure on his own ground.”
“If he doesn’t suspect anything, why would the guy need to feel secure?”
“I don’t know!” Christoph snapped, throwing his hands up. He pushed his chair back from the desk, narrowly missing my toes, and stood. “If you think I’m going to waste this opportunity—”
“I’m not asking you to waste anything, okay?” We were practically nose to nose, although the volume had gotten so high we could have heard each other three streets away. “Just…damn it.” I ran a hand through my hair, mainly to stop myself borrowing Christoph’s desk-thumping trick. “We just need to be careful, okay?”
“Of course I’ll be careful.” Christoph was still glowering.
“We,” I corrected. “I said we, okay? Like I’m going to let you walk into Leitner’s damn trap on your own?”
By the look on his face, I guessed that was just what he had thought. Bastard. Did last night mean nothing to him?
God, I was stupid. I turned away, my throat tight.
There was a gentle touch on my shoulder. “Leon? I’m sorry.”
I forced a laugh. “What for?”
I got a twisted smile in return. “For a lot of things. But right now, I’m sorry for doubting you.” He gave an awkward shrug. “Although if it does turn out to be a trap, I’d just as soon you were in a position to rescue me again.”
There was a weird tightness in my chest. I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to go away or not. “Yeah, well, tough. Until this mess is cleared up, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Christoph’s touch fell away from my arm. “Until this is cleared up,” he repeated and nodded. He looked away, and I wondered what I’d done to upset him now.
“So when do you want to go pay a visit to this guy? Or do we have to call him up and make an appointment like any other doc?”
“Soon,” he said, still seeming kind of distant. “Are you ready to go now?”
Okay, in my dictionary, soon and now were two whole different things. But what the hell, the sooner we got it over with, the better, I guessed. “Yeah,” I lied. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I didn’t know what to say to Ulf when we left, so I just said we were going out and if we didn’t come back by this evening he should get the hell out of there. He laughed, and I didn’t bother explaining it wasn’t a joke. I figured he’d be able to work that out for himself if it came down to it.
The drive out to Leitner’s address wasn’t a pleasant one. And I don’t mean the scenery wasn’t up to much. Hell, I didn’t even notice the scenery. All I could think of was that we were driving into the lion’s den. Maybe I should have tried harder to persuade Christoph not to go? But once we’d sent that email we’d been committed to this. For good or evil.
I guess I’d expected Leitner’s place to be some big old house set in its own grounds, with plenty of room for the lab rats to run and play. It turned out to be a modern building right at the end of a residential street. We pulled up in front of the wide-open gates and stared.
“This…isn’t right,” Christoph said.
That was the understatement of the year. I checked the email printout. “It’s the address he gave us. I guess we better check it out.”
Christoph drove in and parked the car in a small parking lot around the back. It was overlooked by tiny plots of garden filled with bright flowerbeds and old people parked in chairs, soaking up the sun in their arthritic bones. “This isn’t a research center,” I mutt
ered as we walked around to the main entrance. “It’s a fucking retirement home.”
We wandered up a wheelchair-friendly concrete path to the front door, which opened easily, leading to a bland entrance lobby. The buttoned-up woman behind the desk didn’t even look up as we went in.
“This has to be the wrong address,” I hissed to Christoph.
He didn’t answer, just walked stiffly up to the receptionist. “Is there a Dr. Franz Leitner here?”
She took off her reading glasses and looked up with an eerie lack of reaction to our appearance. “Dr. Leitner? Yes, of course. You’re here to visit? One moment, please.” She picked up a phone; dialed a number. “Claudia? There are visitors for Dr. Leitner.” Hanging up, she flashed an artificial smile in our vague direction. “Claudia will be with you shortly.” Then she shoved her glasses back on her pointy nose and looked down again. Conversation over.
I was liking this less and less. It didn’t improve matters any when Claudia turned out to be dressed in a nurse’s uniform. She was a young black woman with cornrow hair, a big ass and keen eyes. “You’re here to see Dr. Leitner? How lovely—he doesn’t normally get visitors, the poor dear. Are you family?”
“No,” I muttered, just as Christoph said, “Yes.” One penciled-on eyebrow lifted a fraction. “Uh, I’m not, he is,” I clarified awkwardly. I mean, hell, my German is pretty damn good but no one was going to buy me as a native.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you. It’s this way—he’s on the ground floor. Not very good with stairs anymore, I’m afraid.” She shepherded us through a door with a push-button opening and along a corridor. “If I know him, he’ll be playing on his computer—here we are.” She knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an answer. “Dr. Leitner? I’ve brought you some visitors.” Her tones had changed from normal conversational to extra bright-and-breezy for grade-school kids and the hard of thinking.
