Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set

by Kiki Burrelli

  "You don't sound very surprised. Deal with this sort of thing often?"

  He most certainly did not. Up until a few weeks ago, his life was predictably boring. He'd known where he would be, who he would be with and to an extent, what would happen. That was until Finn came back from his break and Christian had decided to take a leap and try to get to know him. Look how that had ended.

  "I guess I shouldn't be shocked. You were wearing that shifter's jacket. You still kind of smell like him, but not as much. You should change your clothes. So you don't attract the wrong sort of attention again." Derrick bent down to grab his jeans and slid them up to his hips.

  "I don't think Finn is like you."

  "Who is Finn? Another friend?"

  Christian lifted his chin stubbornly. "Yes. He is."

  "Wow. He must be. That's the rudest you've been to me. If I don't count…." He indicated his knife wound that was impossibly smaller already.

  "You should still get that checked out. I hear it isn't the surface injury you need to worry about but the bits and pieces inside."

  Derrick shook his head. "Nah. If it were going to kill me, I'd know by now." He neared Christian, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him backward. Christian allowed himself to be escorted. "I assume this is your bedroom?" Derrick must have seen something funny in Christian's expression because he chuckled. When he spoke again, his southern accent was thicker, cajoling. "How about you go and change out of those clothes and find me something to wear while we wash mine. Between you and me they smell like garbage and cheap whiskey."

  Christian thought they should smell like dog, but kept that to himself. Before he knew it, he had handed Derrick a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt, shut the door and stripped. Only when Christian stood naked in his bedroom did he stop to wonder why he was simply doing what Derrick had told him to.

  He heard loud voices coming from his living room. Quickly pulling on a pair of basketball shorts, Christian hurried out to the angry voices.

  Derrick had just slammed Christian's door shut and turned around, his eyes taking in Christian's shirtless form, but otherwise unbothered.

  "What happened?" Christian asked, worry packed into each word.

  "Nothing? Oh, that? Your neighbor came back. I sent him away."

  "Why were you yelling?"

  "Do you always do him favors?"

  "What? I don't know, sometimes."

  Derrick scowled.

  "Why are you looking at me like that?" Christian backed away, suddenly very aware of his shirtless state.

  "You're too nice," he muttered, coming close.

  "There is no such thing."

  Derrick had firmly inserted himself into Christian's personal bubble. He looked at him with a challenging glare. "Do you like me this close? Don't you wish I would back off?"

  No. "Y-yes."

  He leaned closer, his face inches from his. His dark eyes kept Christian prisoner while baiting him, demanding he stand up for himself. "Make me then. Force me out."

  Could Christian force this man to do anything? He felt like a solid wall of heat. Derrick looked unmovable. More than that, Christian wanted to lean forward more than he wanted to push back. As if he could hear Christian's thoughts, Derrick's face came closer. His lips neared Christian's.

  Christian's frontal lobe finally kicked in, reminding him of every reason why this was a bad idea. You don't even know this guy. He turns into a wolf. He was mean to your neighbor. He just threw up. Christian lifted his hands and firmly placed them on Derrick's chest, ignoring the rigid muscles, he pushed as hard as he could. Derrick stepped back and then stumbled. He bent over in pain.

  "I'm sorry!" Christian said, going to help him, but Derrick waved him back.

  "No, no, just my stab wound is all."

  Christian had forgotten about it. Again. It wasn't his fault. Derrick seemed so fit, sturdy and unwounded it was hard to remember.

  "I should probably take a nap anyway. I can feel a hangover approaching. Unless you have some whiskey in here that I can chase it away with?"

  Christian shook his head, but Derrick had already turned from him, making his way back to Christian's couch. He laid down and shut his eyes, leaving Christian standing near his front door, dumbfounded. He looked around his apartment as if searching for someone to tell him exactly what had just happened. The day had started so normally.

  Christian shrugged. It wasn't like he was going to kick a possibly homeless man out. And it was dark out. Of course, he had questions about the wolf thing, but that could wait until morning. Everything always made more sense in the morning.

  Chapter 2

  Derrick heard Christian quietly walk by and go into his room. He'd been testing him, purposefully pushing his buttons and ignoring even basic social rules. And Christian had just let him. He'd let Derrick walk all over him, which was something Derrick was normally excellent at, but for some reason seeing it happen to Christian just pissed him off. Which was not a good thing since nothing made him hornier than being angry. Though, that didn't seem to make a difference. He'd been balancing on a sexual knife edge from the moment he'd first gotten a whiff of Christian running down the alley.

  Derrick wasn't used to balancing. His MO was to leap in and take what he wanted. Right now, he wanted to bust into Christian's room and cover him with his scent. It should have bugged him just how bothered he was by Christian wearing his friend's clothes. He'd needed him to change. His wolf had demanded it.

  And for that reason, Derrick would stay on that damn edge. He'd balance on any surface he had to. Derrick exhaled roughly and settled back on the couch. He really should sleep. This wasn't his first stab wound, but that didn't make it hurt any less. He'd shifted earlier because of the pain. That had been damned sloppy of him, and he was lucky that Christian seemed to take it in stride. He probably took everything in stride. Derrick wanted to bend him over and see just how he would take him.

  "No, no," he muttered, trying to distract himself by thinking of the least sexy moments he'd ever experienced. Mémé, barging in on him jerking off as a teen to a sport's magazine, the smell of his old frat house bathroom, his upcoming arranged marriage. Oh yeah, that was the ticket. His dick deflated like a balloon in the sun. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him over.

  When Derrick woke up a few hours later, he knew exactly where he was. And why. His stomach hardly hurt anymore. He pulled the shirt up and sure enough, the skin there was close to being all the way healed. That had been fast, even for him. He looked up at the ceiling, the same direction his cock was pointing. The last dream he'd had of Christian, on his knees, his perfect lips wrapped around the head of his dick, was still in his mind. And no wonder, he was surrounded by Christian's scent. In his clothes, on his couch, the man himself sleeping a room away with the door wide open.

  Derrick stuttered at that realization. He'd left the door open. Why? An invitation? Well, it was just rude to decline a gentleman's invitation, at least without a good reason. He let his feet fall soundlessly to the floor, and he padded to the open doorway feeling like a mischievous child. He had been extremely drunk earlier, still intoxicated when he got to Christian's apartment and now that he'd slept off the peak of it, was only mildly buzzed. That would be the reason he gave for why he didn't sense the stranger in the apartment until the very last moment.

  As it was, the second before Derrick would have been filling up the doorway, he heard a muffled sound of panic. He froze, tensing every one of his senses to awareness. He could feel another body in the apartment. The bastard's heat, burning with aggression. His intent smelled like the stinking swill at the bottom of a road stop garbage can. That stench was in there with Christian? Derrick swallowed the growl that wanted to shake the windows. He crouched down, staying in shadow, and crept closer to the room.

  What he saw made his shifter blood run cold. Christian, with his hands bound behind his back, a gag over his mouth and his beautiful, kind eyes, wide with terror. Derrick allowe
d his mind to take in a little bit more information before attacking. Christian's window was open, but there was no trace of anyone else waiting outside. The stranger was definitely shifter, and Derrick would've put his family money on it being one of the shifters from the alley.

  Well, he'd gotten away easy before. No one touched what was his.

  Derrick stopped that train of thought.

  No one touched--a friend of his.

  He shifted back into his wolf, knowing his jet black fur would help conceal him until the last moment. He padded ever closer, realizing now that the soon to be dead man wasn't planning on hurting Christian immediately. His intentions were to bring him to a second location. Derrick was almost within easy leaping distance when Christian spotted him. The relief that filled his expression shot straight through Derrick's chest. Unfortunately, the man trying to kidnap him was at once curious as to why his hostage was suddenly lax.

  He turned his greasy head and snarled first, a rookie mistake, before shifting. In the time it had taken him to snarl, Derrick had leaped. His teeth were at the other wolf's throat, his front legs held the other wolf's top half down while his strong back legs stood firmly on the other wolf's hips, keeping him utterly immobile. He closed his jaws, ready to taste blood when a panicked yell pierced through his wolf brain.

  He looked up at Christian, still gagged, but his scream had been loud enough for Derrick to hear. He gave him pleading eyes. It was as if, Derrick could read his mind at that moment. Don't kill him, he would say. Derrick sighed as best he could while his jaws were wrapped around an enemy.

  It was probably for the best that Derrick wasn't able to continue their silent conversation. It would have ended with him calling Christian every gullible name in the book. Instead, Derrick shifted all of his weight to his front feet, and pressed his jaws tight, without puncturing skin. Within sixty seconds the other shifter's eyes rolled back, his body went limp. Derrick removed himself while simultaneously shifting back into his human form. He went to the bindings at Christian's wrists, but they were plastic zip-ties and were not suitable for reuse. He cast a look around and settled on some thin rope he spotted in a pile at Christian's bed.

  He reached for it and had the intruder bound by his hands and legs before he could regain consciousness. He lifted him up and let him drop a few feet away on the floor before turning back to Christian.

  For the briefest of very dark moments, Derrick thought of leaving Christian this way. Bound, gagged, forced to submit to his every whim. He loved the roundness of his eyes, the pleading message he found there. He could bend him over, pull his pants down. But he would want to kiss his lips, penetrate his mouth with his tongue and…other parts. On top of that, he didn't usually like an audience and the intruder would not be out for long.

  He undid the gag portion first.

  "Thank you," Christian said immediately.

  "Yeah, yeah, I didn't kill him and stain your carpet."

  Christian lunged forward, still bound at his back, like a fish jumping from the water. He pressed his lips against Derrick's. The moment Derrick felt his soft mouth, he grabbed him, holding his body bound against his own. Christian sighed softly into the kiss and then parted his lips. His tongue explored the space beyond. Derrick groaned and tasted his warm and sweet flavor. Derrick was there, lick for lick, moan for moan, all the while loving the way Christian's firm body, melted to mold against his own.

  As pliant as his body was, his mouth was strong, dominating. Derrick got the idea that Christian was usually the lead in these moments. Although bound, his movements were sure. Derrick liked that about him. There was nothing tentative in the feel of his lips, nothing unsure. It was as if, Derrick knew for certain that Christian wanted to be kissing him right then and at that moment.

  Then, Christian pulled back and mumbled against Derrick's lips, "For saving me. Thank you."

  Cold water filled his head. Derrick pulled back. "You don't have to thank me like this," he said with more irritation than he understood.

  Christian managed to blush. "I'm sorry."

  "No. Don't apologize. I'm just saying, don't kiss me like this unless you want to. Not because you feel obligated."

  Christian stared at him for a very long moment. "I wanted—"

  The intruder groaned, ungagged as he was, the sound cut between them. Derrick let his nails sharpen to a long enough point that he could slice through the zip ties that bound Christian's wrists.

  Christian rubbed each wrist, his fingers dancing over faint red lines that were left behind. Derrick growled at the marks. No one hurt his…friends. It crossed his mind that this intruder was pretty prepared. He'd come in with a plan. It was clear that he was one of the shifters from the alley. Derrick recognized the bruises on the other shifter's face.

  "Don't mind me," the intruder wheezed. "You should say goodbye while you have the chance."

  Every muscle in Derrick's body rebelled against the notion of saying goodbye to anything of Christian's. Not just yet.

  "Fill me in then," he said, ushering Christian behind his body. "Who's coming to help you? I don't see how you're a threat anymore. In fact, you'd be dead if it weren't for my never-ending kindness," Derrick let a bit more of his southern drawl ooze through. He could usually keep it in check. His father had demanded that he not speak like a "redneck" and had hired speech therapists to work with Derrick ever since grade school.

  "Take your pick," the other shifter said hoarsely. "Once your friend got on the wrong side of my pack master, he might just as well have signed his own death warrant. You can only hope that Lucian is feeling merciful and not creative when he finds him."

  Derrick's heart tightened against the threat, but Christian simply leaned around his wide frame as if his life hadn't just been threatened. "Lucian? Is that who is after Finn?"

  Finn. Derrick nearly growled the name out loud. That guy was already the cause of so much headache. And it didn't help how Christian's whole damn face seemed to light up every time he said the name. Derrick wasn't jealous. He just hated seeing such blind, unearned devotion. Where was this Finn who had put Christian in so much danger? Not here, where Derrick was, trying to keep Christian alive.

  "Doesn't matter if I tell you or not. The blood trail I followed here won't fade anytime soon. There will be others and eventually, Lucian will show as well. A word of advice, for not killing me, you should try to be as far away as possible when that happens."

  Derrick kept a stony face but inwardly was groaning. His stab wound. He might as well of painted a fluorescent arrow in the direction of Christian's apartment, all the way up to his door.

  On his own, Christian might have been able to slip into his apartment without leaving such an obvious scent trail. But you saved him! And then he'd put him in worse shape. And Christian had saved him a lot of trouble by listening to his wishes and not going to a hospital. The scorecard of who owed who between them was getting very muddled pretty quickly.

  "Is he secure?" Christian whispered, but not quietly enough for the other shifter not to hear him. He must not have that much experience interacting with his kind.

  "Even if he shifts, his limbs will be bound behind his back. It would be more uncomfortable than he is now," Derrick said with glee at that new image.

  "You should probably gag him," Christian said pulling on a sweater. He walked a wide circle around the intruder, careful not to get too close. Did he not trust Derrick enough to keep him safe? To keep keeping him safe? That annoyed him. With a huff, he followed Christian out of his bedroom to the front door.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Steven should have something," Christian reached his neighbor's door. "Uh, could you, stand back a little? Maybe there, against the wall?" Christian asked him, his face beet red.

  Derrick was shocked into compliance. He stood where Christian asked him to, and Christian knocked briskly against his neighbor's door. A moment passed.

  "Oh, no, it is way too early Christian," the doctor who live
d next door whined through the wood.

  "I need a favor," Christian called softly.

  There was a thump on the other side. "Another favor? You've terrified me enough for the whole week."

  "Terrified you? You were laughing," Christian replied smoothly.

  "I don't even know how you got a wolf so big in your apartment. Large breeds are restricted you know. Does Agnes know?"

  "Don't worry about that, Steven," Christian's voice had changed slightly, became smoother, suaver. It made Derrick's teeth clench. "Besides, I'm going in to talk to Agnes next. Please, I need something…a little strange."

  The door cracked open a little. From where Derrick stood, he was unseen. That had clearly been purposeful on Christian's part. Derrick's last interaction with the neighbor hadn't been friendly. Derrick hadn't known then that Christian would need something from the man less than twenty-four hours later.

  "Are you in trouble?" Steven asked.

  Christian waved a relaxed hand. "Of course not. I was just wondering if you had any Ketamine or Telazol hanging around your apartment. You know, if you ever took your work home with you."

  Steven opened to door wider. "I ask again, are you in trouble? Why do you need animal tranquilizers?"

  Christian smiled, wide, carefree, looking for a moment like an unbothered college student. "Wild party? Is that an answer you'll believe?"

  Before Steven could answer, Christian took a step forward, bringing him through the doorway and out of Derrick's sight. He still had his shifter hearing though and heard every silky smooth word. "It may not be the answer you believe, but it will be the answer that keeps you out of trouble. I just need enough for, let's say a few hours for a bear."

  "A bear?"

  "For reference."

  "Please don't make me regret this. And for god's sake don't hurt yourself. This is way too much for one man."

  "Of course, Steven," Christian said, sounding more like his cheerful self. "I owe you a million turnovers."