Shaking his head, Derek frowned at his thoughts.
Geez, where did that come from?
Another horn honked and someone yelled, “Damn, man. Get out of the fucking road!”
Focusing at his surroundings again, Derek spotted the biker rolling his motorcycle out of the middle of the road and into the electronic store’s parking lot. He just stared as he watched the man offer an arm and help the young woman off the back of the bike. Derek hoped it was his daughter or something and not his girlfriend because there was a hell of an age difference between them. It had nothing to do with how his tired mind placed him on the back of the bike instead of the woman.
Good God, I must be exhausted.
“Hey, are you okay? I didn’t think I hit you,” the biker growled, suddenly all up in Derek’s space. The guy even reached out and took hold of his upper arm with one hand. “Look at me.”
Obeying the demanding voice, Derek struggled to focus. When had he gotten so tired? Maybe his first stop should have been a hotel room. He looked up just a bit, which didn’t happen too often with him being six foot two, and he stared into the biker’s eyes...which—oddly enough—appeared concerned.
“Yeah, yeah,” Derek muttered. “Fine, just tired,” he admitted. “I’m sorry for walking in front of you.”
The man’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. His grip tightened just a bit. “Are you injured?”
“Uh,” Derek started in surprise. He yanked his gaze from the man’s intriguing eyes and glanced down, first at his arm where the man held him, to his elbow, which stung. Lifting his arm, Derek noticed a scrape from where he’d fallen. Several tiny beads of blood pooled on his skin. “Just a scratch,” he finally replied. “I’m fine.”
“Not fine,” the man rumbled. “We should clean that up. We wouldn’t want it to get infected.”
Some of the daze caused by fatigue must have lifted—because it surely couldn’t be how his blood was pumping fast in his veins by this man’s presence—for Derek finally managed to focus. He furrowed his brows and asked, “Wait. You just about ran me over. Now you want to clean my wounds?” Derek snorted. “Are you afraid I’ll sue you or something?”
“You’d lose,” the man replied, his voice full of certainty. The corners of his mouth curved up into a smile. “You were jay-walking.”
Derek scoffed. “Right. Like you’ve never done it.”
“I didn’t say I hadn’t,” the biker said with a grin. “I just never did it while half asleep.” He cupped Derek’s jaw and tilted his chin up a bit, blatantly inspecting his face. “When was the last time you slept? Truly slept?”
Now there was a loaded question. Tough to answer, too, especially with his mind muddied by not just fatigue, but by the feel of the warm, calloused hand touching him so intimately. He should be stepping away, breaking the contact.
Instead, Derek whispered, “I’m a lawyer. I always sleep with one eye open. Ya know?”
“That is a shame, handsome,” the biker rumbled, a calculating gleam entering his green eyes. “It sounds like you need a little rest and relaxation.” He tilted his head and swept his gaze over him. “Are you a local? Or just visiting?”
“Visiting,” Derek replied without hesitation. Holy shit. What was this man doing to his brain? It had to be the fatigue.
“You have a room around here?”
“Not yet.”
“Good. You’re in no shape to drive,” the man pointed out. “Hop on the bike behind me and we’ll get you to a bed where you can rest.” The man said the words as if expecting to be obeyed. He slid his hand down Derek’s neck, caressed his pulse point with his thumb for a couple of seconds, then released him. “Come with me.”
“W-Wait,” Derek muttered, frowning, getting frustrated with how foggy his head felt. “I need a charger.” Right, that was why he’d crossed the street. Street. “And what about my car?”
“I’ll make certain it’s brought to my cabin,” the man assured. He wrapped his right arm around Derek’s waist, and suddenly Derek found himself pressed against the leaner, taller man. “We’ll get you a charger, handsome. You’re dead on your feet. Let’s take care of your need to rest, first, hmm?”
“Um, okay?” Derek mumbled, deciding he was far more wiped than he’d thought. Driving, with his adrenaline up, he hadn’t realized he’d grown so fatigued. Now, though, after not even ten minutes out of the car, and all he could think about was finding a place to collapse. Except, wait... “Who are you?”
The biker didn’t answer until they’d reached his motorcycle. The young woman stood beside the parked bike, eyeing them both with obvious curiosity. “Everything okay?” she asked.
Derek’s strange helper nodded. “Fine, Diana. Will you let my son know I met my mate, and he’s not feeling the best? I’m going to take him some place to lie down.”
The woman, Diana, her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh! Yeah, sure.” She swept a gaze that, even in Derek’s sleep-deprived state, could clearly be called assessing. “Not bad, Tomcat,” she said, grinning at the biker, obviously teasing. “He’ll be a hottie once he’s had some sleep and doesn’t look like death warmed over.”
While Derek felt a blush creep up his neck, he heard the biker growl softly. Oddly enough, he felt his cock thicken in his jeans. Derek shifted his stance, trying to find a comfortable way to stand without drawing attention to his sudden, unexpected problem.
“That’s enough, Diana,” the biker scolded. “I’ll call Edwin in a little while. They’ll give you a ride?”
“Of course,” Diana replied. “See you around.” She winked cheekily. While jogging down the sidewalk to the corner, she looked over her shoulder, waved and called, “Have a good night!”
“Edwin told me she was a quiet, studious girl,” the biker grumbled, shaking his head. “Little puppy has some cheek.”
“Puppy? Tomcat?” Derek said their odd nicknames out loud. “Are you guys animal environmentalists or gang members?” They gave each other odd names, too, right?
Focusing on Derek, the biker gave him a smile. “Not environmentalists. No. My name is Dillan Shoreman,” he told him, releasing him and swinging aboard his motorcycle. “I’m here visiting my godson and his husband. I’ve rented a comfortable cabin in the woods. You’ll have plenty of peace and quiet to rest and regain your strength,” he assured, holding out his hand. “Climb aboard and let me help you.”
Derek couldn’t pinpoint why, but he obeyed. He gripped Dillan’s hand and used it to climb aboard the motorcycle. Settling on the small bitch seat, Derek remembered riding his buddy’s dirt bike years ago.
This was completely different.
For one thing, Derek wasn’t driving. He was instead trying to balance on a small bit of seat behind another body...a male body that did odd things to his tired mind. Trying to keep enough space between them that he wasn’t pressing his still mostly hard prick against Dillan’s ass, Derek struggled to get reasonably secure.
Dillan reached back and grabbed Derek’s hip. While Derek tensed, Dillan ordered, “Don’t be shy. Scoot closer and wrap your arms around my waist. The trip won’t be long.” With surprising strength—especially at the odd angle—Dillan easily pulled Derek’s groin flush to his ass.
Derek bit back a moan when the pressure on his dick sent dizzying pleasure through his system. On instinct, he grabbed for something to steady himself. That happened to be Dillan himself.
“Good,” Dillan practically grunted, his deep voice sounding pleased. “Let’s get you a comfortable place.”
Without another word, Dillan brought his bike roaring to life. He pressed the throttle and turned the bike. Seconds later, Dillan drove back onto the road. He waved to a pair of men standing beside Diana in the diner parking lot, then with a roar, they were out of town.
Derek clung tightly to the man driving the bike. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d acted so recklessly. From leaving home without telling anyone to dri
ving himself into exhaustion, add in almost getting hit, then climbing onto the back of the motorcycle with the man who’d almost hit him...every one of the decisions he’d made in the last forty-eight hours were completely out of character for him.
With that thought firmly in mind, Derek decided to just go with it. If this guy decided to attack him, he still had the mace attached to his keychain. While the first one he’d received had been a gag gift from his brother...the last gift he’d received from Deke, as a matter of fact...Derek had actually used it. He’d had a run in with a mugger in an alley.
Derek had gone to the drug store the next day and replaced his spent keychain mace with a new one.
Peering over Dillan’s shoulder, Derek watched as the biker turned onto a gravel road. He passed several other, smaller turn-offs, finally coming to a surprisingly pretty iron gate. To further Derek’s shock, as soon as they rolled up to it, the gate began to open.
Evidently, Dillan must have noticed his confusion, for he looked over his shoulder and grinned. “The land lord gave me an automatic opener,” he said. Then, Dillan started the motorcycle rolling forward again.
After riding slowly over gravel for a moment or two, Derek spotted a building between the trees. He felt his eyes widen as the cabin came into view, the structure nestled in a large clearing.
Dillan stopped the bike before it.
When Derek had heard the term cabin, he’d thought rustic and old fashioned. This, certainly was not that. While the log-style was definitely a nod to western, the home appeared new and clean. The porch was large and well-maintained. The railings weren’t missing any spokes. There didn’t even seem to be any grass growing between the stones that led up the walk.
“Come on,” Dillan urged, tilting the motorcycle onto its kickstand. “Let’s get you inside. There’s a very comfortable looking bed in the second bedroom.”
The thought of a bed, comfortable or otherwise, overruled everything else in Derek’s mind. He followed Dillan into what could probably be categorized as a small home. He declined the shower. Then, after only kicking off his sneakers, he fell across the bed Dillan showed him to.
Derek couldn’t even remember Dillan leaving the room.
Chapter Four
Dillan wanted nothing more than to crawl onto the queen size bed, pull Derek into his arms, and hold him close while the human slept. Unfortunately, if Derek woke like that, Dillan figured he wouldn’t appreciate it. There was something extremely vulnerable and confused about the man...but underneath that, Dillan sensed a sharp intellect and a spine of steel.
Just what had caused the human to drive himself to the brink of exhaustion?
Knowing he wasn’t going to get the answers by staring at him, Dillan turned away. It was tough. His mate! After over three and a half centuries, Dillan had finally stumbled across his mate. He’d righted his bike, yelled at the man, then caught the crazy jay-walker’s scent.
Dillan realized he’d just about run over his mate.
Seeing the man’s dazed expression, Dillan had quickly trundled into the nearest parking lot...an electronics store by the looks of the neon sign. He’d instantly seen the lines of fatigue around Derek’s mouth and the confusion in his pretty, dark eyes. One more whiff of the guy’s scent had confirmed it.
This human was his mate.
Dillan couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder. He mentally groaned at how the sexy man’s dark five o’clock shadow graced his jaw. Even better were his messy dark locks. They weren’t long or short...just past business casual.
Dillan wanted to touch so badly.
Instead, Dillan turned away, gently closing the door behind him. He strode out the back door and onto the deck. Moving into the nearby trees, Dillan stripped off his clothes, folded them, and left them at the base of a tree.
Dillan sighed and let the shift flow through him. It’d been a few months since he’d let his puma out and the change happened quickly, the cat eager to run and hunt. His bones cracked, his muscles popped, and his tendons snapped. In seconds, he stood on all fours. After a satisfying stretch, arching his back, Dillan sprang into action. He lunged forward and sprinted through the forest.
A couple of hours later, Dillan the puma prowled around the house containing his mate. He rounded the structure, sniffing the ground and scenting the wind. No knew smells marred his territory markings.
While Dillan had been given permission to enter Declan’s pack territory...and yes, technically, this was the wolf’s territory, this home was still Dillan’s for the time being. After unpacking his things, he’d immediately shifted and marked a small bit of territory, only fifty paces out, that way the wolf shifters and other animals would know this place was freshly occupied. It was just enough to satisfy his cat’s desire for solitude.
Once he was sure no one had come or gone...and that his mate was still safely inside the dwelling, Dillan leaped into a tree a distance outside Derek’s room. He sprawled on a forked branch, closed his eyes, and took a cat nap.
Dillan blinked his eyes open. He flexed his paws and arched his back, stretching contentedly. Once fully awake, he noted the dark shadows stretching across the ground. He also felt his stomach rumble.
Remembering that he’d missed dinner—and why—Dillan decided he should check on his guest and start an evening meal. He should also call Edwin. He hadn’t missed the shocked surprise on his godson’s face when he’d driven away from the group.
Dillan leaped out of the tree and padded around the edge of the clearing, sticking close to the shadows. He’d need to introduce his mate to his cat and the world of shifters soon, but now wasn’t the time. Dillan needed to woo the human a bit, first...to see how receptive he was to his advances.
He didn’t know the first thing about Derek Sommers, after all. That wouldn’t stop him from doing a little light touching to see how Derek responded.
Upon reaching the tree where he’d left his clothes, Dillan quickly shifted. Once more in human form, he stretched his arms over his head and popped his back, letting out a satisfied grunt. Dillan then yanked on his jeans, zipping the fly but not bothering to button them. Holding the rest of his stuff, he padded barefoot across the thick grass and entered the house.
Dillan smiled, spotting Derek seated at the dining room table. His hair was damp and appeared as if Derek had finger-combed it with water in an attempt to tame it. He had a mostly full bottle of beer between his hands. Staring at the glass, he seemed entranced by the label.
“Good evening,” Dillan greeted softly as he placed his clothes on a nearby bench.
Derek started, lifting his head and turning his head to gaze at him. He stared at him with wide eyes for a second. Then, he blinked and smiled back.
“Hey.”
Sauntering slowly to the refrigerator, Dillan took his time. He purposefully gave Derek plenty of time as he retrieved a beer of his own. Bending over a bit as he reached for a beer from the bottom shelf, he tightened his ass, knowing it looked fantastic in the worn, faded jeans.
When Dillan turned back around, he bumped the fridge door with his hip, closing it. He noted how Derek’s gaze quickly lowered to the beer he clutched, a rosy glow staining his cheeks.
“How are you feeling?” Dillan asked. He rested his lower back against the bar top and leaned against it. By placing his elbows behind him on the counter, he knew he put his body on display. While he might have salt-and-pepper hair these days, his body remained toned and lean, in thanks partly to his feline shifter genes. “Are you feeling better?”
Derek lifted his gaze and cleared his throat. While licking his lips, he swept his gaze over Dillan’s form. Then, he cleared his throat again. “Y-Yeah. Thank you.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “How long did I sleep?”
Dillan rolled his shoulder in a half shrug. “However long you needed.” He glanced at the laminate deer head clock on the left wall and saw it was already almost half past nine in the evening. He figured he
’d have at least three calls from Edwin by now. Deciding he’d worry about that later, Dillan stated, “Maybe three hours or so.”
Nodding, Derek mumbled. “Sorry to put you out.”
Chuckling, Dillan finally popped the cap off the beer and tossed it onto the counter behind him. “You’re not. I’m happy I could help.” He tipped the beer toward Derek, then lifted the bottle. “Cheers,” he said before taking a swig of the cold brew.
Derek smiled and drank. He downed several gulps.
As Dillan swallowed his own mouthful, he found his gaze riveted to Derek’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed. He wanted to suck on that little nub. He wanted Derek to arch his neck for him, moaning and gasping for more.
Forcing back his carnal thoughts, Dillan took in Derek’s tight shoulders and white-knuckled grip on the beer. His mate seriously needed some down time. What had him so keyed up?
Dillan decided to try another approach. Pushing away from the counter, he downed his beer in several long swallows. He pointed at Derek’s and ordered, “Finish that.”
While Derek looked confused, he obeyed.
Grinning, Derek once again opened the fridge, this time pulling out four more bottles, two in each hand. He hip-bumped the door and closed it again. Then, strode to the back door. He tilted his head at the sliding glass door.
“Wanna open this for me?” Dillan asked, holding up his full hands.
Derek rose and crossed to him. Reaching past him, he opened the door.
Dillan couldn’t resist inhaling deeply, taking in his mate’s earthy, masculine scent. The heady aroma sent desire streaking through his system. His blood surged southward and his cock thickened to full mast. He wanted to adjust himself in his jeans, but his hands were full. Besides, he planned to take them off in a minute anyway. While Dillan didn’t want to scare the human, he had no intention of hiding how the sexy man affected him either.
“Come on,” Dillan said again. “Shut the door behind you.”
Paws for Change Page 3
