In Wulf’s Clothing

by B. A. Tortuga

  “Okay. After the wedding we can? If you can take time off?” He couldn’t believe that this could be real.

  “I’ll find a way, baby.” Cory pulled back enough to beam at him. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me either.” He felt like he could relax now, breathe, and focus on Cory, the wedding, the clothes.

  “Mmm. Come on and rinse that hair. It’s glorious.”

  He moved under the spray and arched, running his fingers through his hair. Cory’s moan bounced off the tile, so sweet, so pretty.

  Someone liked his hair. That made him happy as hell.

  “You’re so smooth, babe.” The words were accompanied by a sweet touch, a drag of fingers over his belly.

  “Mmm. I try.” He winked, but that contact made his nipples draw up, like they hoped for attention, even though he knew they had to eat, go to Stephen’s, work.

  “Soon, baby. We’ll let it build until tonight.”

  “Yeah? You think you can wait that long?” Trey loved the zing that shot along his spine.

  “I can, and so will you, Trey. No touching yourself when I go to work.” That tone of command really did it for him.

  “No? Are you coming for your fitting? Aren’t you supposed to stay with me?”

  “I’ll have to check in with work.” Cory grinned. “You’ll be fine with the Alpha. I’ll be back for my fitting by probably two.”

  “I’ll do all your measurements, nice and slow.” He cupped Cory’s cock, rolling the heavy, fuzzy balls. “I might have to take them twice. Just in case. You know what they say about cut once.”

  “Okay. Yes. Please. Measure. Not cut.” Cory kinda went up on tiptoe. “We’re going to have to wait, babe. I’m going to tear you up again, tonight.”

  “Evil butthead.” He tapped the little, wrinkled line of skin of Cory’s perineum, making Cory bite the air.

  “I can be. Don’t push it,” Cory growled. Sexy. Really fucking hot, and a little surprising.

  He licked his lips and let that growl vibrate through him to his cock. Pretty pretty.

  Cory kissed him one more time, then turned off the water, pulling him out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around him, Cory hugged him tight, almost desperate.

  “Lie to me. Tell me we’ll figure this out this time.” He needed to hear it like he needed to breathe.

  “We will.” The words rang with something like the alpha tone he heard in Cory’s voice, now, but it wasn’t making him do anything… Just. He felt the words in his gut. It made him shiver; it made him want to offer his throat and his belly and any other part of his body that Cory wanted.

  “Okay, then. We will.” Trey nodded, allowing Cory’s certainty to settle him for now.

  “Yes.” Cory sniffed. “Bacon is about ready.”

  His belly snarled, the sound loud as hell. Trey rolled his eyes at himself. Bacon was impossible to resist, really. “Good thing I’m not hungry.”

  “Right? We’ve worked hard the last day or so.” Those wagging eyebrows made him laugh.

  “Took a long run, right? That’s our cover story?” He pulled their clothes out of the dryer.

  “That is. We did do that.” Cory rolled his eyes, then pulled on those awful pants. They were just so shapeless. Weren’t cop pants supposed to fit like a second skin?

  “I’m going to ban those things, you know. I’m going to design you jeans that actually show off your ass.” Those awful double-knit things gave Cory old man butt, and he could report that there was no sag in the actual ass. At all.

  “Take it up with my boss,” Cory said. “I hear you know him.”

  “I damn near raised him.” And Cory mocked, but he would talk to his brother. Hell, the pack sheriff deserved designer pants.

  His lover deserved them. He would even make some for the lady deputy.

  “He’s a good guy. You did a great job.” Cory put on his shirt, then paused to look at Trey, who was still naked. “Jesus, you’re fine.”

  “Don’t you mean fabulous?” He shook out his hair, hiding his pleasure in his Wulf persona.

  “That too, you flamboyant designer.” Cory laughed out loud, looking younger somehow. “Come on.”

  “Yes. Bacon. Bacon and eggs—paleo is all the rage.”

  “What the hell is paleo? I mean, I’ve seen the word out on the internet, but what’s the difference between that and like, keto, whatever that is.”

  “I think keto is more fat, and paleo is more protein?” What the fuck did he know? Seriously. He ate when he remembered. Thank the moon for… “Miguel. Oh dammit all to hell. I haven’t called Miguel.”

  “Do you need to?” He felt the flash of jealousy hit him in the chest like a little dart, making him jump.

  “Stop that. He’s a friend. My best friend, and I promised I’d call.” And Miguel would just grab one of the cars and show up. He knew it.

  That might make the jealousy worse.

  “Sorry. I’m trying.”

  “I’ll call him, but it might be too late.”

  “Too late for what?” Cory frowned, staring at him.

  “He’s convinced you’re—the general you—are going to eat me.”

  “Ah. Well, no one has taken a chunk yet, right?”

  “You’re the one that’s been all over it, mate. You tell me.”

  “Nope. You’re intact.” Cory licked his lips, staring. Yeah. They were just on fire.

  “Okay, then. I’m safe. Can you cook eggs? Is my phone charged at all?”

  “It is, and I can. You still like them with runny yolks?”

  “I do. Thank you. I’m going to call Miguel, see where he is, whether he left the pack unprotected.”

  “Sure, baby.” Cory smiled, and this time there was no worry there. Cory trusted him, if not Miguel.

  He grabbed his—plugged in, thank you, mate—phone and called his packmate.

  “Hello? Oh my God, are you okay?”

  “I am. I’m sorry, man. I— I mean, I sort of, well, hooked up.”

  “You and your ex?” Miguel’s voice rose. “Wulf!”

  “I—what do you want me to say? He’s here and beautiful, and I want him more than breathing, man.”

  “I don’t know. Have a little tiny bit of shame, huh?” Now Miguel was laughing at him,

  “Shut up, butthead. I’m doing fittings today, yay. I’m going to be glad I brought my machine, I bet.”

  “Yeah? Who’s the wrong size? And I’m on my way to help. Before you get mad, the rest of the pack is working from home this week and all staying home, just to keep an eye on things.”

  “How far away are you?” Part of him was excited—he wanted to show off his friend, part of his chosen pack.

  “Maybe half an hour? I started out this morning early because you didn’t call.”

  “You rock, man. I’ll warn them you’re coming. You can stay in the rooms they have for me.”

  “Because you’re having sexy times with your ex!” Miguel was hooting.

  “Bitch!”

  “Can I meet him? Is he still hot? Hell, is he hung?”

  “You can meet him, smoking hot, and none of your business.” Was he hung? Yes.

  And he wanted to explore every inch. Again.

  Be good, mate. You’re talking to your friend.

  “What?” He spun around, looking for Cory.

  “I said I’ll be there soon. Text me where to find you, exactly.”

  “Oh. Uh, Stephen’s house is near the center of the village. So, once you turn off on Lobo Canyon Road, take it all the way in. There’s a hairpin curve into the canyon so pay attention. Then, all the way in past the general store. Turn right on the next road and follow it to the end. It’s a huge old adobe.” Cory was… still in the kitchen.

  “Text me. Please. I’ll stop in their…town?”

  “Valley.”

  “Valley, rock on.”

  “I’ll see you soon, hon.” It would be good to have Miguel there for the fittings. Some people were not at all the size he�
��d expected.

  “Love you, Wulf. I brought more chocolate croissants.”

  He hung up the phone, smiling wide. Miguel was possibly the best friend he’d ever had.

  “Everything good?” Cory called out. “Breakfast in a few!”

  “Everything’s fine.” He headed back to the little kitchen and stole a bite of bacon. Uhn. Crispy goodness. “I swore I heard you talking to me. The acoustics in this house are odd. Miguel will be here in half an hour.”

  “I guess they are. Will I like him?” Cory dished up eggs and bacon and toast, the scent of clean man and soap better than the food.

  “I think so. I like him, and he likes me.” They took their plates to the little table, sitting and eating like it was normal.

  He liked the playing house fiction, loved the idea of a day-to-day with Cory. It wasn’t real, but it felt amazing, and Cory had promised to come home with him, for a while at least.

  They could do that, right? It was only a few hours’ drive. They could see each other every chance they got.

  At least until…Until what? Everyone that remembered he was banished, and Trey didn’t need Starbucks or decent internet?

  He shook it off. Wedding. Fucking. Then they would decide what to do.

  “Are you done?” Cory asked.

  “What? With breakfast? No.”

  “No. I mean chewing up our stuff before we’re even together a day.” Those dark eyes just watched him, the expression in them amused.

  “Shut up. Butthead.” He stuck his tongue out.

  “You’re not the one who thinks too much, baby. That’s me.” Cory stole a bit of his egg.

  “I will fork you.”

  You’ll try.

  “What?”

  “I said you’ll try.” Those eyes positively twinkled. Had Cory learned to throw his voice?

  “You—” He was missing something; he knew it, but he also knew that Miguel was heading into town. He needed to finish up and head to Stephen’s. “Should we meet Miguel at the diner and lead him up?”

  “Sure.” Cory grabbed his empty plate, dumping both of theirs in the sink and running a tiny amount of water on them. “That way, no one bites him.”

  “Yeah, that would make me grumpy. I’d hate to have to bite back.”

  “I would hate that too. You only bite me, now.” Cory herded him toward the door, hand on his ass. Possessive man.

  It shouldn’t feel so goddamn good, but it did. He let it sort of fill him up, and he felt it.

  Cory made him feel so much. So much that he’d pushed aside for so long.

  The kiss was sudden, shocking, and pulled him out of his thoughts with a bang. Cory bent him back, teeth on his lower lip, then pushing between his lips with that rough tongue.

  Mate! His entire world settled, went white-hot and still.

  He forgot to worry, forgot everything but Cory and the way their bodies pressed together. That wide chest blocked the light, those strong legs held them up, and he could only moan and cling.

  When Cory pulled away from the kiss, he clung, worried that he was going to collapse, but Cory held on, waiting until he got his feet under him, never saying a word, just holding him.

  That made the trip into town so much easier. No more racing thoughts.

  11

  By the time they parked, Miguel’s Mustang was pulling into the lot.

  “There he is. He was burning rubber.”

  Miguel stepped out, his best friend vibrating, the little man’s face badly scarred, the mark unmistakable.

  “Oh.” Cory’s sound of distress was too soft for Miguel to possibly hear, and Cory was back to expressionless once they met Trey’s friend halfway.

  “So, this is him? The one?” Miguel looked him over, up and down. “You’re right; he’s hot.”

  Cory laughed; the sound surprised but pleased. “Thanks. Cory.” He held out a hand to shake.

  “Miguel.” He bowed his head like Cory was his alpha. Interesting. Maybe aggravating.

  “Nice to meet you. You want to follow up to my brother’s place?”

  “Please. I feel people looking. Don’t you, Wulf?”

  Trey didn’t feel anything but Cory.

  “I guess I’m used to it, hon.” He smiled, though, then moved to link arms with Miguel. “I can ride with you.” Trey tossed a look at Cory, pleading with him to understand.

  “You just like a convertible,” Cory accused. “Okay, but hang close behind me anyway, okay?”

  “You have my word. We’re with you, Sheriff.” He looked at Miguel and shrugged. “I have a lot to tell you.”

  Miguel nodded slowly. “Okay. Sure. I’ll be good and follow close.”

  He slid into the Mustang, buckled up, and sighed. “Goddess, man. It’s been crazy here. Insane.”

  “Wow. He’s really stunning. So, tell me all.” Miguel patted his leg before starting up the Mustang to follow Cory.

  “So, one of the pack—Dave is his name—he died. Like when I was there. I literally held him on the drive down, and I had to leave. You know, banished, and the fucker that banished me came after me and I threatened to shoot him.”

  “Like with a gun?”

  “Like with a gun.”

  “Wulf! I didn’t even know you knew how to use one.”

  “A shotgun is simple,” he said with a shrug.

  “I’m so impressed. So, how did you end up in bed?”

  “Well, after the not shooting, I was all adrenaline boy and he was all hot cop and—” Who was he kidding. He might have gone crawling to Cory and begging if Stephen hadn’t ordered them together. “Stephen told Cory to keep an eye on me.”

  “You have the best brother on earth.”

  “Right? He’s magical.”

  Miguel started laughing. “That is— does your man know what Stephen did for you?”

  “He sure seems to, yes.” Cory seemed to know everything.

  “Huh.” Miguel glanced at him. “Is that weird? I mean, that he’s like Mr. Know it All.”

  “I don’t know what’s weird anymore, man.” Was it? He thought it was weirder that he kept hearing Cory without the man being right there by him.

  “Are you leaving us? Coming back here?”

  He looked at Miguel in pure horror. “Fuck no. Even if I could, there’s no way. You are my pack—you and the others.”

  “But your brother is the alpha. I just thought… I mean I’m glad you’re not.”

  “No. No, banished is banished, right? Even now, I wasn’t welcome with the others. I’m here for the wedding, and we’ll be out as soon as the cake is cut.” He couldn’t risk it.

  “Okay, cool.” Miguel went silent for a moment as he made a tricky turn behind Cory. “What about your guy?”

  “He says he’s coming to visit.” Trey didn’t believe it, but he had to hope.

  “Oh, that would be cool. He seemed sad when he looked at my face, but not disgusted. I think the others would like him.”

  “He’s a good guy.” Maybe a little hidebound, but good.

  “Yeah. He looks at you like you hung the moon. And he’s got this—” Miguel broke off to pull into Stephen’s drive and coast to a stop by Cory’s truck.

  “Yeah, he does. He’s got a lot of ‘this’.”

  Miguel snorted. “Grab the croissants out of the back.”

  “Yeah. We’ll see how long they last.”

  “Not long, I bet. But I got a couple dozen doughnuts, too. Since it’s fitting day.”

  “Good idea.” He reached out and squeezed Miguel’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “So am I, man. I missed you and you were barely gone.” They got out of the car, heading up to Stephen’s. Miguel’s eyes widened. “Wow, this place has history.”

  “Right? It’s a special place.”

  Not big enough for him, but special.

  “I guess the guy who, you know, didn’t live here?”

  “Nope.” He wrinkles his nose. “He built his own McMansion. Which
is good because Stephen says his house stinks.”

  “Yeah? That’s sort of cool, huh? In an ironic sort of karmic way?”

  Are you doing to stay in there forever, mate?

  He looked around, his eyes meeting Cory’s at Stephen’s front door. He glanced at Miguel, who was still talking, so maybe he just hadn’t heard Cory.

  Cory smiled at him, then held out a hand.

  He nodded. “They’re waiting.”

  He’s waiting.

  “Oh! Sorry.” Miguel moved his ass, which was always good. Sweetheart, but so distractible.

  “No problem.” He took the box of croissants and shoved them toward Cory. “For you.”

  “Oh.” Cory’s eyes went wide. “Oh, wow. Thank you both.”

  “Who is this, brother?” Stephen stood there, frowning, worry pouring off him.

  “My packmate. He’s here to help with the fittings.”

  Stephen stared at Miguel until the poor guy put his head down and moved from foot to foot.

  “Dude, Stephen. You’re being rude. He was worried about your brother and he came to assist. Let us in.” Cory kept it light, but it was a butting of heads, no doubt.

  Trey put himself between Stephen and Miguel. “Are you done being a fuckwad yet?”

  “I am. Sorry. Come on in, and thanks for coming to help, Miguel.” Stephen stepped back, but the worry hadn’t gone away.

  “You’re welcome. I want the wedding to be perfect. I’m very excited.” Miguel’s words were carefully spoken, and Trey stayed where no one could attack his friend.

  Stephen shook his head. “Not you, man. Your tires were all slashed this morning, Trey. On the Escalade.”

  “What?” Cory scowled. “Why didn’t you call?”

  “I called Wendy,” Stephen snapped. “She was the one on duty.”

  “Fuck a doodle do. You’ve got shit security here, brother. Can’t you just shoot the motherfucker?”

  “Stop it.” Stephen sighed. “Not if I can’t catch him at it. I don’t think it was George. He has supporters.”

  “I’ll get them fixed, baby. You have my word.” Cory came to him, one arm sliding around him.

  “I know. I believe you.” For a moment he’d hysterically thought Cory meant castrating George and his followers. Then he understood Cory had been talking about the tires.