Jack Addison vs. a Whole World of Hot Trouble - The Complete Series

by K. A. Merikan

  Roux stilled. “And you only wash? Like cups?”

  “Huh?”

  “Cups. Dishes. You wash them, they’re smooth― never mind!” Roux hid his face in his paws.

  Jack laughed and pointed at Roux. “Oh, I get it. You want to touch something smooth? Is that right?” he asked, approaching the shore slowly, so that he didn’t end up slipping on one of the stones covering the riverbed.

  Roux’s ears went right up, and he curled his shoulders. “What? I never said that!”

  A child’s squeal made both of them more aware of their surroundings. The girl yelled something and ran toward two women approaching the riverbank. One of them dropped her basket to hug the girl, but when she looked up, Jack had no other choice, if he wanted to follow the rules of decency―he dropped into the icy water. He bit his tongue as his balls shriveled from the cold.

  “Er... can you turn around so that I can dress?” he called out, but wasn’t sure if the woman heard him over the cries of her lamenting daughter.

  “Wolf, mommy! A wolf!”

  Roux stood up with his hands in the air. “I’m a chat, it’s okay. Me and my friend, Jack, are venators.”

  Jack’s teeth clattered, but it still hit him. Roux had called him a friend. His balls weren’t as cold anymore.

  “Why don’t you throw me a towel, friend?” he asked, reaching out until Roux did as asked. With his modesty saved, Jack finally extracted himself from the stream and looked to the other side, where the woman was still consoling her child.

  “You don’t have to worry, ma'am. Tomorrow this same time, there will be no werewolves to worry about.”

  The two women came closer with baskets full of laundry, but still eyed Roux suspiciously. “A Godsend. I hope you don’t get hurt. They get feral in the full moon,” said one.

  Jack gave a small laugh and quickly put on his shirt. It clung to his damp body, but he chose to ignore it and sat next to Roux, who was still in the process of combing his coat. Would Roux need help with the brushing of his back? Jack imagined him shivering with pleasure like Mr. Paws had when Jack stroked the cat’s spine.

  “We’ve come all the way from Bavaria. It was a special assignment. Not everyone has the necessary skill do deal with those monsters,” he boasted, even though he’d never met a werewolf out of his human form. But building trust was more important than precision in terms of truth.

  “It’s only been getting worse in the last months. There was this girl, Blanka. Never listened, stubborn thing,” said the girl’s mother. The other woman nodded. “She ventured into the werewolf territory time and time again. Then, following the full moon, she just never came back. Terrible business.”

  Jack licked his lips. Did Blanka stay with the werewolves out of her free will, or had she been taken? “We will look into it. If she is still out there, we will find her.”

  “Make sure all the houses are locked, and the children remain indoors,” Roux said.

  Jack was finding it hard to decide whether Roux was cuter scared, or when he was authoritative, like now.

  The women told them some other horror stories about the local werewolves, but they left for their homes as soon as they were done with a small load of laundry. It was getting dark by the time Jack and Roux entered the woods, lighting their way with Jack’s electric lamp. In order to easily find their way back if needed, they decided to follow the river, but two hours on, in near-complete darkness beneath the thick tree tops, Jack was starting to feel the strain on his nerves. Fantasizing about werewolves was all fine and good when you weren’t so close to their territory. Especially considering that the village women had claimed some people had been eaten by the creatures in the past.

  When Roux climbed one of the tall pine trees to get a better idea of their position, Jack backed away against the trunk, feeling his stomach twist at every sound. He took deep breaths and tried to convince himself that as a venator, he was more than equipped to deal with this situation, but when Roux suddenly landed right next to him, Jack barely kept in a scream.

  “Uh... so, can you see the border of the reservation?”

  “Yes, it’s not far away, but we need to stay within our jurisdiction. Things can get messy if they try to defend themselves by claiming we’ve gone inside.”

  Jack nodded and moved along the water, which glinted whenever he directed the lamp at it. “You think they can smell us?”

  “Probably, if they’re close enough. But we’re armed.” Roux poked Jack. “Is the one and only Jack Addison scared of a few werewolves?”

  Jack snorted, even though he most definitely was. Having Roux at his side made the dark forest much less intimidating. “No. I was just jealous that you could actually see stuff in the moonlight from up there.”

  Roux smiled, presenting his sharp teeth. “You? Jealous of me? Do you know that in Paris, they print trading cards with portraits of venators and creatures they are famous for slaying? And they come with ranks. Do you think you’re above or under me?”

  Jack stared at the green eyes, at the pretty canines and grinned, stepping that bit closer. “I’d be happy with both.”

  Roux blinked. “Really? I thought you were making it your thing to find the most unusual or dangerous creatures in all of Europe, just so that everyone knew your name.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe this shit. “I obviously wasn’t speaking about trading cards.”

  “What about then?”

  Jack sighed and stepped so close Roux moved back to maintain physical distance. He was such a confusing creature. “About us maybe getting closer after this is over? We could rent out a room in a nice inn.”

  Roux stared. He couldn’t be a virgin, could he? “I don’t understand why you would suggest that.” He turned around and started vigorously walking ahead.

  Enough was enough. Jack needed to show his intentions instead of talking. He rushed behind Roux and pulled him closer by the tail, but Roux must have not been expecting it at all, because the screech that came out of his mouth was high-pitched and abrupt.

  And resonated through the trees.

  The sound was both distressing and cute at the same time. Jack let go. “Did that hurt? I’m sorry.”

  “Yes, it hurt!” When Roux spun around, he rubbed one of his eyes. “It’s still tender where the gnome bit me, you ass. Wait. Did you hear that?” He stilled, holding on to his own tail, and this time Jack heard it too. A shuffling in the bushes approaching awfully fast.

  No way.

  No fucking way.

  Jack couldn’t help the tremble in his hands when the noise became louder, as if whatever was coming their way was much larger than he’d anticipated.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Run!” Roux yelled and took off, leaving his bag behind.

  Jack’s head was completely empty, but he ran faster than ever, faster than at his final exams, when the physical prowess score had to make up for his poor academic performance. His feet practically flew through the air, but the noise, the creaking, the loud, throaty gasps were not going away.

  The lamp he still held swayed as he ran, casting its light at random things, but he switched it off and rushed forward, hoping to lose the pursuing werewolves.

  Something crashed into his face so rapidly his brain rocked in his skull as if it were a rattle, and the whole world rolled around Jack until he landed in the grass, tasting blood on his tongue.

  The stampede of heavy paws was followed by a howl, and when other werewolves joined in, Jack shut his eyes, still as a mouse as the werewolves passed him. Their paws stomped so close to him that dirt and moss hit his face, but not one of the massive creatures noticed his presence.

  Roux’s screech followed a clang of metal, and Jack’s heart stopped beating altogether, because the chat screams wouldn’t stop.

  He didn’t dare switch on his lamp, and for several terrifying seconds he just stayed still, listening to Roux’s distressed cries. The werewolf growls sounded playful rather than aggressive, but
when Jack’s eyes got used to the darkness, he saw the pack standing in a circle in the middle of a small clearing. Pale moonlight revealed just how perilous Roux’s situation was. With eyes wide as dinner plates, he struggled against a chain that was somehow attached to his leg, keeping him in place for the wolves. One of them, a tall creature with a streak of white fur down his back, pulled on Roux’s tail so hard it cut his legs from under him. The cat-like cry of distress pierced Jack’s chest, but he was too terrified to move. He was never terrified, so what the fuck was going on?

  And the worst thing was that while the werewolves were busy with their new toy, he could attempt an escape.

  He could later pretend that they went in different directions, and that would be that.

  No one would know.

  The werewolves were huge creatures, at least eight feet tall, with furry ape-like bodies and heads that weren’t quite human nor canine. They had huge claws, and one of the creatures scratched Roux’s jacket, ripping it open at the back.

  Roux meowed in a way Jack had never heard before. Animalistic and desperate, with a high pitch that hurt Jack’s ears.

  “Here kitty, kitty, kitty…” The streaked werewolf laughed in a low tone that resembled a growl.

  “Never seen one like him,” said another, pulling on Roux’s pants so hard they ripped as well, and it was only then that Jack realized what the pack wanted to do.

  Roux squealed, twisting from one werewolf to the other, but with the cuff around his ankle, he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how hard he tried. The werewolves were just playing with him for now, but it would get worse, and Roux was terrified already. With that prudish nature of his, he might as well have been a virgin, so how was he to deal with five werewolves twice his size? He might be seriously hurt, and since he was different than any other venator, news of his humiliation would surely spread, no doubt ending his career.

  Jack would not let that happen!

  On trembling legs, he got up and stared at Roux, who was suddenly dragged over the ground by two thick arms. Jack needed to act. Now or never.

  Before the creatures spotted him, he unscrewed the bottle of pheromones and doused its contents all over his body. The musky oil was warm in his hair, and pleasantly slick when it drizzled down his neck.

  “Hey, fleabags! How about you try with someone closer to your own size?” he shouted, even though his voice came out in an uneven pitch.

  Five sets of bright yellow eyes shone in the darkness, their gaze inevitably drawn to his presence. Jack dropped the bottle and reached back for his sword.

  Chapter 4

  Five sets of clapping jaws full of sharp teeth descended on Jack, but with the Gouger in his hand, he stood a chance. The werewolves went so frantic they bumped into trees and trampled bushes, but Jack stood his ground, ready for impact.

  The first werewolf to clash with his sword howled in pain the moment the blade sank into his arm, but Jack realized what a grave mistake he’d made, favoring the sword over his guns, once a wall of fur draped over pure muscle crashed into him from the side. A jolt of pain shot through Jack’s arm, rendering it numb, and his hand opened, dropping the precious weapon as if it were a stick not worthy of anyone’s attention.

  He gulped down cool night air, reaching out for the sword, but the werewolf pushed him down onto the moss, far away from the sword. Jack couldn’t breathe. Above him, the five silhouettes morphed into a single beast with five heads, twisting and jerking against the background of the brightly lit night sky.

  “I smelled him first!” growled one, and pulled on Jack’s leg, while another tugged on his arm. He’d be torn into pieces before these monsters could come to an agreement.

  A cold-nosed sniffed his pheromone-doused hair, and he wasn’t sure if opening that bottle had been a good idea.

  Streak looked into Jack’s eyes with a long growl that was akin to a purr yet nothing like it. Somewhere deep out of that massive hairy chest came a sound that communicated pleasure, even though Jack couldn’t speak wolf.

  “Look, guys―” he tried, but when one of the werewolves squeezed his jaws on Jack’s jacket and started shaking his head ferociously, fear squeezed Jack’s throat and refused to let go. His plea turned into a scream when the other werewolf tugged on his leg, lifting his entire body in the process. “No! Stop! You’re gonna fucking kill me!”

  The werewolves became more frantic by the second. When one let go of him, another used the opportunity to grab Jack, and his jacket ripped at the sleeve. For a moment, Jack thought he was close enough to the sword, but as soon as he reached out, the monster bleeding from his arm where he’d been stabbed, tugged Jack away from it, shoving down Jack’s pants in the process.

  “Oh, no you don’t…” the werewolf growled while another started pulling on Jack’s jacket to get it off, but when the garment covered Jack’s head, his world became so chaotic that he couldn’t even say how many paws were grabbing him at once.

  He could sense the sharpness of their claws, the cool roughness of leathery pads, and the coarse fur. Tossed between many pairs of arms, he was like a rag doll in the hands of those creatures, and by the time he landed on the ground again, and the jacket finally got ripped off, the night air froze his sweaty skin.

  His eyes must have gotten more used to the dark, because when he looked up the massive brown legs, he saw the huge wolfman bristling and baring his teeth, as if he were protecting his rights to a meal.

  Was this the end of Jack Addison? Eaten alive by a pack of werewolves, before he could make a name for himself? He flinched when the brown wolf with a pale streak hunched down and rested his front paws on either side of Jack’s head, growling in a way that sent shudders down his spine. “It’s my right as the alpha!”

  All but one of the werewolves backed off. The one still bleeding from his arm, with a nasty set of long fangs, butted his head against Streak’s. “I deserve to go first. I was wounded!”

  Jack trembled under the mountains of coarse fur, his skin exposed to scratches and bites. He was sure it would only take a single bite to his stomach to open him up like a slaughtered pig. Though he likely wouldn’t get to die quick, since the beasts were fighting over who’d get to bite him first.

  Streak exhaled so deeply hot vapor hit Jack’s face. “But I get to knot.”

  Jack was breathless. So they didn’t intend to eat him... yet. Because werewolves weren’t in the habit of fucking dead flesh. Allegedly. He was safe. He could get the werewolf experience right here and now, and he’d heard all about knotting from an underground pamphlet for werewolf aficionados.

  “Listen, guys, I―”

  The werewolf with long fangs leaned over him and pressed Jack’s head into the damp moss. The sound of his frantic breathing filled Jack’s consciousness, closely followed by the coppery scent of blood and the glide of coarse fur against his vulnerable ass. When the soft pelt was suddenly replaced by a piece of hot, throbbing flesh, Jack might have squealed at the size of that thing.

  Fang’s hot muzzle rubbed against Jack’s defenceless back, all the way to his neck and hair. He could hardly breathe against the moss, terrified yet excited at the same time. Fang’s nose was cold, but not his tongue. When he licked the back of Jack’s head, his thick cock twitched against Jack’s ass.

  “That scent…” Fang let out a low growl. Despite Jack’s fears, he didn’t just shove his dick in raw, but lifted himself, and once more rubbed his muzzle down Jack’s back, this time, all the way to his ass. He pushed his nose between Jack’s buttocks, making him squeal at the thought of all those teeth so close to the delicate skin of his balls.

  He’d wanted the ‘authentic’ werewolf experience, yet now that he was getting it, his heart, dick, and brain all had different opinions on the matter. It was almost as if those three organs pulled him in different directions, like the werewolves had. But once the huge muzzle opened, and a long, lava-hot tongue rolled out before sliding between Jack’s buttocks, his brain stopped working a
ltogether, and followed the lead of Jack’s dick.

  The scratching of sharp teeth against sensitive flesh added spice to the way the werewolf’s slick tongue glided along Jack’s crack, leaving behind a sticky, slick residue of saliva. Fang was no longer holding Jack’s head down, too busy opening his ass with both padded hands, but Jack wasn’t to have peace.

  The alpha’s claws sank into dirt right in front of Jack’s face, and when the huge werewolf squatted down, Jack wasn’t even surprised by the tug on his hair.

  “Never met a man that smells like you.” Streak grunted, and without much more introduction, he pressed Jack’s sweaty face to his hard cock.

  Red and thick above a set of heavy furry balls, it was already dripping fluid, so Jack licked it without thinking. Jack’s cock was already rock hard against the wet moss, twitching every time Fang pressed his flat tongue against Jack’s ass. As long as the werewolves didn’t want a snack after fucking, he could handle them.

  The smallest of the werewolves pressed his nose against Jack’s ribs with a whimper, only to be shoved away by Streak. Jack hummed around the pointy tip of the alpha’s penis, tasting the sourness of his pre-cum. There was so much of it that some of the slick liquid ended up dribbling down Jack’s chin. Eager to please the boss of the pack, he carefully sucked on the smooth flesh, causing the wolf to ball his huge fingers into his hair.

  But hearing the pack’s omega whimper again, Jack reached toward him. If he was to survive this, he needed a friend. The smallest werewolf was still much bigger than him, but he arched to Jack’s hand like an eager puppy, yearning for attention, and nudging Jack with his nose time and time again until Jack’s fingers reached the ears of the beast.

  Back in the day when Jack only fucked humans, he’d participated in several orgies, but while his partners had been so much smaller and weaker than the pack, one thing did not change―it was damn hard to focus on three things at once. Fang wasn’t about foreplay, so when his cock invaded the slickened hole, Jack wasn’t adequately relaxed. He arched his hips in hope of keeping some of the length out, but when Fang held Jack’s buttocks apart, digging his claws into skin, there was nothing to relieve the discomfort of the sudden penetration.