When you are screwed anyway, hope for the best and get what you can.
Kidnapping the son of one of the mob leaders isn’t easy, and when said son happens to be a werewolf’s mate, it’s bound to get messy.
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Loved By a Werewolf
Copyright © 2014 Bronwyn Heeley
ISBN: 978-1-77111-800-2
Cover art by Carmen Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Loved By a Werewolf
Moonlit Wolves 1
By
Bronwyn Heeley
To, my sister, Meagan, for being my soundboard. Helping to work out the muddled mess I get my head into sometimes and generally for being my therapist.
Thanks sis, love ya for it all.
Chapter One
The way things were going, Jex wasn’t getting out of these woods alive. He’d come to that conclusion about a half hour ago when he found himself, yet again, leaning against a tree that held a knife sticking out by the rubber end. The knife wound up in said tree because Jex had managed to duck just in time.
The sound of the forest filled his ears. The screams and cries of animals seemed to be more alive at this moment than they had been throughout the day as the men he didn’t know led Jex into the depths of the forest.
He hated it. His kidnappers were idiots, though, and his father had prepared him for the fact that this might happen to him at some point in his life.
Yeah, wasn’t that sweet? When most fathers were teaching their sons the birds and the bees in bedrooms, while looking anywhere but at the boy whose nappies they used to change, Jex was learning that his father was into some horrid stuff, and because of that, he was taught the do’s and don’ts of being kidnapped.
Do make it easier for them at the start, his father instructed. Once you’re kidnapped, and especially when your father is a mob man, you want to make them think you’re dumber than they are. Don’t make it easy for them. Just make them think you don’t know what you’re doing so they won’t guard you as closely.
Don’t try to attack them. That’s a no-no for many reasons, mainly because no matter what, they will always have the upper hand, especially since Jex was eighteen years old years old and in no way a killer. Hell, he wasn’t really much of anything—not skinny, not bulky, more average, to the point that he was surprised the men knew who to look for.
Running hard, he’d been taking in sharp gulps of cold air that seemed to rip through his chest. The pain made him understand that he was still alive, and it was going to be more painful if he wanted to stay that way.
He began to push himself because he remembered something that Matt, his best friend—hell, only friend—told him when they were out playing football one afternoon. Push through the pain. Football really wasn’t something Jex liked. Hell, Jex wasn’t sure he cared that much for anything but…Matt. The guy had looked at Jex when he first walked into the classroom, one of the many he’d been in, his black-clothed body shaking slightly as the group of class mates looked at him, judged him in that split second, and found him…Jex would say lacking, but that wasn’t true. The reason he only had one friend was because Matt was the only one ballsy enough to stay his friend after his father had pretty much fucked up this new town—and everyone knew it. His dad was bad news, and that was what motorcycle gangs would say if you asked them. They’d tell you to keep a wide distance because, let’s face it, they weren’t going anywhere near the fucker.
Wasn’t it great?
Looking up, Jex could see the moon was full, the light filling the sky, but it wasn’t helping him any, since it didn’t filter through the leaves.
“Oi, this way,” a deep voice said from somewhere behind Jex.
At least he hoped like hell that the men were behind him and that the woods weren’t messing with his hearing, because it would suck if he ran into them while trying to get away.
Just keep moving, no matter what—get up and keep moving.
Following Matt’s voice in his head, Jex took a deep breath that hurt so much, he had to clutch at his ribs to keep from sobbing. He moved away from the tree he was leaning against and headed in a new direction, hoping like hell that it would get him somewhere back where he started.
Branches slapped at his face and shoulders, hips and thighs, making each breath he took a gasp too loud to be any good for him. He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the response to the agony that kept attacking him in the dark, most of it coming as a complete surprise to him. Because as much as he could see, he wasn’t seeing anything.
Looking up again as he ran, he tried to get the light that took up the sky to come down to him, to help him out, rather than taint him with its taste of happiness he might never have again.
Oddly enough, that thought brought a picture of Matt to his mind and something inside him sighed at the image as another partial sob escaped at the thought that he wasn’t going to ever see him again if he didn’t, somehow, get out of these woods and away from the men that had tried to use him as ransom.
Don’t think they won’t hurt you, boy, just because they are going to sell you back to me. There’s a lot of things you can do to a body that leaves them still looking fresh when you hand them back.
Thanks, Dad, for that lovely reminder. At least with that one, Jex had to hold back a smile. His dad been talking about rape. He knew it because of the look in the old man’s eyes. It was odd, but Jex couldn’t help but want to laugh and tell his dad that it wouldn’t be as much of a hardship as he was hoping it would be. Jex had been openly—okay, only to himself—gay since he learnt that pulling on his dick actually gave him a jolt of pleasure.
He knew, because no matter how hard he tried to look at those pics of half-naked chicks and whack off to one of them, only the face and lips of a man came to mind. Mostly of a guy he knew at the time. Still, he couldn’t seem to find anything stimulating about a woman. They just weren’t appealing, at least not compared to the hardened body of a male. Especially one that was slick with sweat and had lips that seemed designed to wrap around a cock.
Why was he thinking about this crap?
He knew it was because he didn’t want to be where he was. Running through the woods, blinded by the darkness with men who knew how to track and kill without a sound. He was scared out of his mind, but not enough to get adrenaline to pump into his veins. Or was it a different type of adrenaline Jex was looking for?
His foot caught on something sticking out of the ground, and Jex went head over foot and continued to roll as he found himself at the top of a huge hill. He tried his hardest to tuck himself up, but his mind and body weren’t really thinking of anything but screaming, Oh Fuck as he rolled, faster and faster. It wasn’t until he hit hard and stopped that the this
is gonna hurt even came into his mind.
A little late, right? Dumb shit brain.
Chapter Two
Trying to breathe while winded made it harder and sent a stitch ripping at his side. He started to get his feet under him, knowing that it hadn’t been a hard trip down the hill and he needed to get moving. At least to the tree line, since even through the water in his eyes and the dots that had him wanting to pass out, he could see he was on the outskirts of a clearing. It wasn’t big, at least he really hoped it wasn’t. But it was definitely moon-drenched.
His feet wouldn’t work, and his body didn’t want to get up. It didn’t want to move. Jex hoped that would change once he got a lung-full of oxygen, but even that was difficult as the fall hadn’t been some gentle carnival slide. He really hoped he hadn’t broken anything, but because everything was numb from the night, he didn’t know.
Voices all around him sent his heart leaping into his throat. His brain tried to work faster as his lungs squeezed tight, making it even harder for him to get a breath in.
The men walked out into the opening, the light from the moon making their black clothes and weapons seem something like stepping out of a comic book.
Jex was going bonkers without oxygen in his brain.
As one, the six men walked another step and froze, looking at him. Three held guns, one—the biggest, Jex was pretty confident he was the leader, had that presence—a rifle of some sort. This looked like a scene from Grand Thief Auto. A medium height, fat, bold man held a shotgun—at least it looked like one—and another, really tall and lean guy, who kinda reminded Jex of a lamp post, had a handgun. Again, he couldn’t tell what type or anything, and he couldn’t be sure he would if he could see past a shadowy outline.
The other three were holding…well, one held a bat. The men had called him BB, which Jex was certain meant Baby Face, since he looked like he was about twelve. His bat sparkled in the night, so Jex assumed it was metal, which was gonna hurt, since he was almost positive they weren’t going to kill him. The other two had knives. The thinness of them and the fact that the tip wasn’t all that far from their hands confirmed that fact more than anything. Those two men were average, one dark haired and one light.
His chest still hurt as his lungs worked, and his mind was still too fucked-up from the fall to think of anything. It was blank, nearly calm, and yet, the riot of facts spun so fast, he wasn’t convinced if it mattered at all what those men were carrying because he was going to pass out soon.
A howl screamed through the air, making the hairs on the back of Jex’s neck stand up.
A shudder went through him as a man took a step toward him. Jex’s legs shook as he tried to get them on the ground. He wasn’t going to just let them take him—not when he’d gone through this much pain getting away.
“Ah, mates, I think he’s trying to get up,” a man Jex surnamed Bold Blob said, his voice like a crack in a glass, something that tittered on the edge of shattering.
“Looks to me like he’s ‘bout to pass out,” a light-haired average man said.
“Shut it, Jeff, ya dick head. We can all see that,” Lamp Post said.
Jex swayed even though he was nearly sitting. His feet tried to move, and yet they wouldn’t. He couldn’t move. His body killed, hurt like fucking hell, his lungs seizing with each gasp of breath he took. These arsehole fuckwits were going to take him back. Great.
The men walked close and Jex’s body clenched with the need to move. His heartbeat doubled in time with the acknowledgement that he was going to meet pain with this encounter. There was no way men like these wouldn’t want to take the humiliation of losing him out on Jex.
A deep growl echoed through the small clearing, and sounded as if it came from right beside Jex. Even as his head moved around, he knew he wasn’t going to see anything. The men froze, looking around themselves, their weapons in their hands, moving up, more for protection than to look menacing.
The deep growl rumbled again and a shot of adrenaline sparked through Jex’s body, causing a hard rush of energy that got him onto his feet in a heartbeat. Yet, he didn’t move. His heart beat harder as he looked around with the other men, searching for the beast that made that deep sound.
There were two seconds of silence in the air, Jex and the men still looking around, waiting for something to happen. Jex’s heart beat in his throat due to the rush of energy. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling—only that his body was alive and he could run a mile without a sweat, though he knew his body would pass out if he tried. His lungs still burned softly with each breath he took. His head still swam and his legs wobbled. He needed to lie down and maybe enjoy a bit of a nap, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen, not now.
“Nothing,” Leader said, then laughed nervously. “It’s nothing, men. Let’s do this and get back to the cabin.” The rest laughed with him, their tone seemingly free of anything, like a joke they’d just brushed off because the boss said so. Dick-headed morons.
Then they advanced again and Jex still couldn’t move. He wasn’t thinking about the beast that growled as if he was a panther or a bear. He wasn’t thinking about the fact that he was about to be fucked up by men who hated his father—or did they—and wanted more money than his punk arse was worth. At least his father would pay. That was a bonus in this fucked thing.
A roar deafened Jex’s ears as the beast entered the clearing. Jex couldn’t see anything at all as the sound vibrated through his body, causing fear to pierce his very soul, trailed by goosebumps that pricked his skin so fast, he shuddered. The blood in his body decided to heat up like an oven and push into his cock, making him hard so fast, he ached from the awkward position in which his cock had originally been stuffed in his jeans.
Jex had always had this problem, and he wasn’t sure why that was, but fear turned him on. He’d realised this with his first real crush—Dutch, who wasn’t that big of a man, though taller than Jex by a few inches, and who happened to have been only fourteen years old at the time. Yet, the chap stood still, and fear rolled off him. It had taken a long time, even after he learnt that the guy was a hired killer and worked for his dad, but still it was something more than the person.
Jex had learnt a few things, but especially he knew this from watching a video with one of his old friends from the school he was attending at that time—he never remembered their names, not after he was forced to leave them behind. The video was a fetish one about rape, and even though it had been heterosexual, Jex had only seen the way the rapist’s hand held down the woman by her neck. Later that night, Jex, with his palm wrapped around his dick, could only think of heat behind him, holding him down and fucking the life outta him.
That fantasy never left him, but became stronger. It was his reason for liking Dutch. When Jex realised it, the man himself drifted out of his mind, but not the need for his lover to hold him captive.
Chapter Three
A high-pitched scream lit up the night behind Jex. He wondered briefly when a female had shown up before everything came back and his eyes blinked into the moon-drenched darkness where six men were scrambling around to face off with a…a—was that a werewolf?
It was odd-shaped, if so, like something crossed between the werewolf from The Wolfman and Lupin in Harry Potter 3, that half beast that stood on its hind legs and sloped slightly as if it wasn’t comfortable with its height or wasn’t used to his shape. It wasn’t awkward, though. Jex didn’t think it was new to him, just different feet than what he normally stood on.
The men around him shook. The shaking was so physical, it was evident to Jex. He could almost feel it in his own body—or was he the one who was actually shaking? One of the men was whimpering slightly as he held the gun up to his shoulder, pointing at the beast that just stood there on the opposite side of the clearing from him.
It’s thighs were thick, covered with hair. Jex could see the hair glitter in the night. He gulped down a thick lump in his throat and his mouth went dry, but his gaze c
ouldn’t stop roaming over the beast. He was caught up in the lust that took his body away from the fear of what it was going to do to him, and the fascination of the fact that there was a fucking werewolf, just standing there, watching them. They were all waiting for something to happen.
Ripped bits of dark fabric hung between the werewolf’s thighs. The material guarded the cock that Jex knew he hid behind them. It was odd that the fabric was there at all. Jex shrugged it off with an odd twist of disappointment, but then moved his gaze further up the werewolf’s body.
Jex’s eyes seemed to caress the beast. It wasn’t conscious, and to be honest, he couldn’t seem to stop himself, but the waist of the werewolf came next. Its tight shape had long lines and hips that had something familiar to them, but he was more than sure that was because it looked human. No wonder the pants stayed on, though the button was popped and the zipper down, letting Jex see a darkness that tightened up his stomach. He licked his lips and sent another hateful word or two at the moon for not lighting up the ground as nicely as it was the sky. He’d love to have seen the depths of what was hidden.
The beast had ripped abs on his stomach, the muscles moving as he breathed heavily. They weren’t quite shaped the way of a man who had crunched too much, but more like the definition of polished muscles that seemed to tremble as they sat still, as if there was just too much energy running through the body to stop it.
Its chest was the same, oddly shaped, not quite like a male. Its lungs moved with its belly, and its nipples were tiny dots that stood out to Jex’s gaze. It had shoulders covered in fur that glittered, which Jex concluded made it blond. His best mate had blond hair. It was that golden white blond, and in certain lights, it would cause odd effects.
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