He was barely aware of the shower turning off, quiet and off-key humming coming from the bathroom.
Still fucking her gently, relishing the slow build of need, he let go of her waist to hold her breast. It swayed, keeping time with his thrusts. The weight settled into his palm as her nipple rocked into his hand. He sighed with contentment and was pretty sure she did too.
The scent of soap and water brought his head around. Tom was standing in the doorway, a towel draped around his hips, droplets of water making the hair on his chest glisten. Grinning like a demented fool, Tom dropped the towel and climbed onto the bed.
“I can always take another shower,” he said and kneeled in front of Suzanne. He touched her face, combed her hair back, gathered it up in one hand and used the other to guide his stiffening rod to her mouth.
Owen leaned to the side so he could watch.
Taking care not to jolt her, he continued to fuck her in a steady, sweet-as-hell rhythm while she tongued Tom’s growing erection. She suckled the tip, hollowed her cheeks, pulled back and held the flared head between her teeth.
Tom hissed, looked down at her with flaming adoration and tightened his grip on her hair.
Unlike last night, they let her do the work. Her small, strong body rocked back and forth. Her pussy gobbled up Owen’s cock then her mouth did the same to Tom’s. The two males moaned in appreciation and when she hummed in what sounded like acknowledgement Tom’s hips jerked forward and he bared his teeth in obvious pleasure.
Owen could practically feel her sweet mouth himself.
Gradually, she started rocking faster. Tom was breathing hard and Owen couldn’t stop himself from groaning. Being inside Suzanne, being here with her and Tom in this safe, quiet little house felt like a tonic. Arousal had never been this encompassing and he tightened his hold on her hips, afraid she might slip away and ashamed for being so needy.
He shook himself mentally and quit the drama queen episode in his head. The sounds of loving—the sounds his lovers made—brought him back to the moment, to the erotic high they were sharing. A corner of his mouth quirked up when Tom trembled. The other male’s abdominals punched out as he groaned. Suzanne had wrapped her hand around the base of Tom’s shaft and was working it in tandem with her mouth.
Niiice.
Just the sight of it got his hips to rocking. Taking control of the cadence of their lovemaking, he drove his rod into her, angled his body so the head rubbed the front of her sheath on the outstroke. Oh yeah. So nice.
That sweet pussy of hers felt even hotter now and it was definitely wetter. Throwing back his head, he growled his pleasure to the rising sun. He held on tight and rode her hard when her thighs began to tremble. She paused in her loving of Tom’s cock. Her shoulders tensed and her head dropped. Owen rubbed her clit hard and groaned when her core began to throb and squeeze.
Grunting, he was barely able to hold back his own release. The woman was pure dynamite anytime but when she came? It was like holding a thermal reaction between your hands. She cried out, trembled some more and Owen continued to drive his cock into her, rub her clit…anything to please her, meet her need, give her what she asked him for without words.
When the pulses faded her shoulders straightened and she grabbed on to Tom’s cock so hard the other male hissed and rocked on his knees. But if that weird grin on his face was any indication he liked what the lovely deputy sheriff was doing to his rod just fine. Owen kept looking at Tom’s mouth. At the shape, the firm line of it that didn’t look hard. It took a moment for Owen to realize Tom was staring back at him. Sweat dripped down Owen’s temple when he felt the other male’s gaze on his own mouth. When he looked up at Owen’s eyes Owen gritted his teeth against the electric sensation gathering at the base of his spine, in his balls. Tom’s stare, blue like Suzanne’s, swept over Owen’s mouth and he didn’t even have time to gasp before he came.
Groaning, holding Suzanne hard, he drove into her when the pleasure erupted like fire needles in his brain. His balls drew up tight and hard and spasmed as he released into her. The sounds Tom made as he came only drove Owen’s lust. His ecstasy echoed in the other male’s grunts, cries, tearing breaths. The powerful contractions that drove his seed into Suzanne made Owen ache but that only intensified the pleasure.
Finally, spent, he fell forward. Catching his weight on his hands at the last minute, he kept from crushing her. He laid his cheek on her sweaty shoulder, breathed in the scents of her repletion and her hair and liked the warm feeling he got when the rise and fall of his chest nudged her back.
He could feel the movement of her arm. Small movements, accompanied by quiet, gentling sounds reverberating inside her. He heard her swallow then heard her swallow again. Above them Tom was making the same satisfied noises until it almost sounded like he was humming.
The scent of contentment settled around Owen. It came from Suzanne and Tom but instead of relaxing him it made him edgy. He had no frame of reference for this kind of intimacy. It was powerful, threatening to overwhelm him. Retreating, Owen kissed her shoulder again, told her how beautiful she was, slid his cock out of her and ignored the pain in his knees as he hurried off to shower.
Chapter Ten
Rubbing his forearm across the mirror, Owen cleared a spot to watch himself shave. He also made the spot big enough so he could watch Suzanne step out of the shower behind him and rub a towel over her glowing, pink skin.
Damp toothbrush in hand, Tom came back in from the kitchen. Since Owen was using the sink there was no space for Tom. Owen did however step to the side so Tom could put his toothbrush and paste away.
Apparently one to oblige the ladies himself, Tom walked up to Suzanne, used her towel to rub her back then slid his hands forward to cup her breasts.
Owen had to temper his grin before he shaved his lower lip off. After his shower that feeling of contentment had returned and it hadn’t gone away. He hadn’t felt this sense of belonging since he’d been a kid living in his mother’s home. After rinsing his disposable razor under the water, he used his free hand to pull his cheek taut and started in around his jaw. They might not be a pack but they almost felt like a subset of one. Kind of like family.
He shook his head, rinsed his razor again and cleaned up the edges of his still regulation-short sideburns. Suzanne giggled quietly, turned in Tom’s arms and stroked the other male’s heavy pecs. Owen grinned into the mirror as he watched their reflection.
A pack within a pack. He dwelled some on the concept as he let the water out of the sink and ran a cloth over his face, removing the last of the shaving cream.
“A pack within a pack,” he murmured and was surprised to hear the words out loud.
Tom’s and Suzanne’s reflections stopped moving. Their heads turned until they were looking at him. He watched them thoughtfully as he dried his face.
“That’s what we haven’t been looking for,” Owen said. He hung up the towel, leaned his butt against the counter and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “A pack within a pack.”
“Explain,” Tom said just as quietly. His head tipped to one side.
“A covert alliance. A pack within a pack.” Owen tightened the towel wrapped around his hips. “I figure we’re looking for four males, maybe more. They’re tough enough to lay a beating on me, although I fought them off.”
“Maybe they let up because they wanted you to run?” Suzanne offered. That opinion had been voiced before and it was still sound.
“That could be,” Owen acknowledged. “It could have been a strategic retreat but the tide of the fight was turning. I think they expected those dog trainers to incapacitate me.”
Tom made a humming sound in his throat. “About those citronella spray boxes. I checked online and that make sells for one hundred forty bucks each. Somebody was rich enough to throw a couple thousand dollars worth of sprayers at you.”
“Or maybe a bunch of guys pitched in,” Suzanne added thoughtfully.
Both he and Tom nod
ded slowly.
“You know,” Tom said, “this is starting to feel like rogue males poking around the periphery of an established pack.”
Suzanne jumped in. “Looking for weaknesses. Creating weaknesses within the pack.”
“Agreed. I was a kid last time I was a member of a pack,” Owen said, “but some things you just feel in your bones.”
“Are your bones talking, Owen?” Tom asked.
“Yeah. They’re singing like a symphony orchestra.” He ran his fingers over his damp hair. “I’m not going to assume I’m right though and dismiss any other scenarios. Too much depends on ferreting these guys out.”
Leaning back from Piper’s dining table, Owen ran a napkin around his mouth. “Thank you, Abby,” he said to Piper’s sister as she removed his plate then Suzanne’s.
Tom was still working his way through a second helping of egg pie.
Another of Piper’s sisters came in with a coffeepot, refilled their cups and set a plate of fresh toast on the table. Through the connecting door Owen could hear Piper talking to someone about the crocuses outside just coming into bloom. She sounded tired. More than anything he wished her mate was with them. That verve she’d always worn like an aura had all but disappeared.
Shaking his head in frustration, he helped himself to another piece of toast. Geoff and Ty Amos had been quiet throughout breakfast. They’d sat across the table from each other in dull stupors, eating whatever was put in front of them without seeming to pay much attention to anything but the blank space on the tablecloth between them.
Katherine Clark and her mate, Boyd, rounded out their desolate group. Owen had never felt the Alpha’s absence this clearly.
Refusing to sigh out loud, he set his napkin aside. “We should go,” he said, nodding in Suzanne and Tom’s direction. “I’ll head into the community center and—”
“No,” Katherine interrupted with more firmness than he’d heard from anyone since arriving. “Nothing’s been decided and don’t assume I’m giving you an endorsement but there’s a lot of work that needs doing here.”
Her tone reminded Owen forcibly that being top bitch wasn’t all about physical strength. It was that inborn ability to lead, to take charge like you had the biggest balls in the room. She straightened her back and ran a hand over her short, styled, graying hair.
Katherine continued, “The pack’s been cut to the heart and we’re floundering.” Her voice pulled everyone at the table away from their self-absorption. Even Geoff and Ty looked up at her, blinked and sat up a little taller. She pointed at Owen and he couldn’t help but admire how this sixty-something female could pin him with a look. “You’ve got what it takes to step in, keep things going, keep us grounded while we mourn.” She swallowed hard but her voice didn’t falter. “Until somebody qualified shows up, you’re doing the job.”
When she stood her mate got to his feet beside her. He leaned his forehead against hers, took her hand and led her out of the room.
Owen looked around at the faces watching him expectantly. Katherine hadn’t used the words Interim Alpha but he was pretty clear that’s what she’d meant. The hurt was too raw, too recent for anybody to say the words that would officially replace Cory as their leader. Nodding quietly, he finished his toast, took a sip of his coffee then turned to Ty.
Although taller, Ty Amos was the younger of the two brothers.
“You did all these paintings?” Owen asked, although there was little question in his voice. He looked around at the framed drawings on the walls.
Ty nodded jerkily. He also had that blank, timid look lesser pack members showed higher-ranking ones. Owen flashed his best friendly guy smile. “When I told your dad I liked that one best,” he said, pointing to a watercolor of a mountain valley, “he laughed his ass off at me.”
The corners of Ty’s mouth twitched upward. “Most people do. Like it best,” he qualified. He looked over at his brother like he was looking for support then glanced around the table. His mouth, so like Piper’s, moved again as if he wanted to grin. “I did that when I was six.”
Owen chuckled and so did everybody else. “Guess my red neck is showing. I’ve got no eye for anything more sophisticated.”
“Nah. It’s not so much that,” Ty offered timidly, although his voice firmed as his enthusiasm for the topic rose. “Some people just like pretty pictures. They’re relaxing. They don’t challenge you. Conceptual art is harder to get. It screams in your face and makes you work for it…understanding what it means, that is.”
Owen nodded sagely. “I don’t have a clue what that means.” He laughed at himself and so did everybody else at the table. “But maybe while you’re here you’ll explain it some more. Cory told me you were given a full scholarship to the University of Arizona. About how many applicants get accepted into the fine arts program there each year?”
As he drew Ty out on what was obviously an impressive talent, he studied the young were’s features. Ty was tall like his aunt and slim. His hands moved expressively as he talked, his face—a handsome combination of Cory’s and Piper’s features—started to light up.
His brother Geoff was shorter and far more muscular. He resembled Cory so much it was spooky. When Owen asked him about studying pharmacology Geoff admitted he’d always had a good memory and a head for science. He also played intermural football and liked the weather in Tucson because they could play the entire school year.
“Okay,” Geoff said, “I admit it’s not actually fair to play against non-weres but it’s a helluva rush bringing down some of those big boys.” He might look like his father but Geoff obviously had his mother’s wry humor.
Owen caught Tom checking his watch and stood up as soon as it was polite to. “Guess you two need to get to the station,” he said and walked Tom and Suzanne to the front door. They stood there for a moment, listening to the quiet thrum of conversation coming from various parts of the house. Suzanne leaned into him and Tom leaned into her. Owen didn’t understand his need to nuzzle but they obviously shared it. After a moment they stepped back, told him they’d pick him up around suppertime and left.
Squaring his shoulders, Owen lifted his chin and stepped into Cory’s office. The room still carried Cory’s scent, only now it was overlaid with his. Settling his jacket over the back of the chair Owen settled in, powered up the computer and picked up the phone when it started ringing.
Hours later Owen checked the spreadsheet he’d created against the various printouts he’d made of the pack records. He’d centralized notes about upcoming events like anniversaries, birthdays, weddings and expected births, entered everything on a calendar, with reminders, and was about to email it to the pack hierarchy. Continuity was important. The exercise had also confirmed there were no new pack members, only a few journal entries about weres who’d passed through town, like the junior hockey team members.
Sitting back in Cory’s leather chair, Owen rubbed his forehead. “Why now?” he whispered to nobody. If a group within the pack was maneuvering for control, what could have set them off? From what he’d seen this group was stable. There was little discontent with the hierarchy. Weres controlled just about every business in town and they had a habit of hiring other weres over humans. Financial hardship couldn’t be blamed for any malcontent. He rubbed his forehead again and picked up the phone. Katherine had given him the name of the were who helped Cory with the minutia of running the pack.
“Ian? Hi. This is Owen Wells.” Ian was a recently retired oil exec and from all accounts glad to have the time to volunteer to help with the business of the pack. “Actually, there is something you can do,” Owen said into the receiver as he opened a new window on the computer. The other were didn’t even balk when Owen started issuing orders. “I’m sending you a new calendar covering the next two months. I’ve added two pack runs to the schedule. Can you see about disseminating that information? Great. And some of the women wanted something for the kids for Easter. Work with Gerry down at the community center
and organize an Easter egg hunt around the outdoor play area. I agree,” he said, sorting through more papers. “It’s about time we put his skills to better use than stacking chairs. Second, I’d like you to come up with a short list of names, maybe four, five weres, who could work with Peter Overton and put together an art fair so kids and pups can make stuff for their mothers the Saturday before Mother’s Day. I’ll have him put together a budget that will cover the cost of supplies plus a percentage over that to go to some charity in Cory’s and Ed’s names. Yeah. I liked the idea too,” he added solemnly. “Hopefully we won’t have to charge each kid more than eight or so bucks to participate. If the pack’s as generous as I think it is, parents will round that fee up to ten dollars and the extra can go right to charity.”
In the background Owen could hear the other were keying in notes.
“Just got your email, Owen. The calendar’s attached. I’ll get on it. You need me over there today?”
“Maybe tomorrow. I’m also going to send you information on Cory’s funeral. We’ve got a date and time. The memorial service is being held at the community center. The local funeral home isn’t large enough. Piper’s working through the order of service today.” He exhaled slowly. After his mother died he couldn’t imagine having to deal with something as poignant and yet incredibly unsettling as an order of service for her wake.
People needed to mourn though and the accepted traditions helped them deal. Even something as trivial as calendar notices so that important dates like anniversaries and birthdays could be acknowledged would help members feel reconnected. The heart of their pack had been ruthlessly cut out but there were still weres in charge who cared and were proactive.
Owen checked the clock on the screen. “I’m heading down to the pharmacy in about an hour. Tom said they’d be releasing the crime scene then.”
“Won’t they need a pharmacist?”
“Fuck,” Owen hissed under his breath. “Yeah. I’ll get on it. Thanks for your help, Ian. I’m going to need you for the next week or so while I’m here,” he added, more for his benefit than the other male’s. After he hung up he checked the online phone directory. This was temporary, he kept reminding himself as anxiety started crawling up the back of his neck. A favor to Cutler, to Piper, hell, even to Tom and Suzanne. Soon he’d be out of here with no responsibilities except mulling over what jobs he might be interested or, even better, sitting back on a sandy beach somewhere, enjoying a cold beverage of the adult variety.
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