He showered with her, which slowed her down as she got lost in admiring how the water slicked back his dark hair and beaded on his lashes. Him washing her back in slow, sensual strokes while his erection bumped her backside didn’t help either.
She drove down the dirt road faster than she should have and nearly turned the SUV over when she peeled out onto the paved highway. Damn it, she’d forgotten to tell him about the fence again. Well, he’d have noticed it on his own by now. Funny she’d not seen a vehicle around that might have done it.
She’d better slow down and drive sedately or people would call the station and ask what the emergency was and her boss, a fair but stern man, would call her on the carpet. She liked her job, despite the grueling hours, and she didn’t want to lose it just because she sometimes turned into a wolf and had wild sex with another wolf and a coyote. Hell, turning into a wolf could be an advantage—she could become her own drug-sniffing dog.
What am I talking about? she chided herself as she slowed to drive through town. I’m exhausted and wired at the same time. I’ve had the best sex of my life, ran like the wind in the middle of the night and learned more in one day than in the rest of my life put together.
She needed to pull it together so she could function at work. She straightened her shoulders and took deep breaths and concentrated on her driving. But her thoughts slid again and again to the glorious feeling of the night air in her fur as she sprinted through the woods with Alain growling at her heels. They’d lost Jackson, who had probably gone off to do coyote things, but that was all right. She knew, somehow, that he’d be back.
The moon had burnished Alain’s black coat when they’d run into open country. When he’d snarled at her to be careful, she’d playfully jumped on him, and they’d wrestled on the ground. Then they’d mated, animal with animal, she just as strong as he was. She remembered Alain’s teeth in her neck when the pair of them had given in to lust, but the rest of it was kind of a blur.
Wolf sex. Who knew?
Patrice reached her house, changed quickly into her uniform and drove as fast as she dared to the station. She parked the truck, smoothing her still-damp hair as she leapt out and walked quickly inside.
She was fifteen minutes late. She earned herself some disapproving scowls, but since Patrice had been late a total of once in five years, no one said much.
While she took care of her usual duties, she asked for the file on the death of Thomas Dupree. The file was thin—he’d been found dead in his bed by his next-door neighbor, Howard Weiss. A patrol car had happened to be close enough to answer the call, arriving at the same time as the ambulance. Dupree had been pronounced dead on the scene, and the coroner’s report concluded he’d had a heart attack. Case closed—never opened, really.
But what if Alain was right and his father had been poisoned with silver? She knew that if he’d come in here last week claiming his father had been poisoned, she, along with everyone else, would have thought him crazy. But she trusted his instincts now, and Jackson’s too.
Even a normal human could be poisoned with silver—high doses of any metal were fatal, and her wolf self shivered. She remembered the sterling silver her mother’s best friend had proudly displayed in her dining room back east. Patrice had always thought she didn’t like the silver because it was clunky and ugly, but she realized now that the werewolf in her had cringed from it even during her childhood.
She tucked the file in her desk drawer and went out to drive her rounds. Anyone sick enough to give a werewolf silver was dangerous and she hoped Alain took care of himself.
* * * * *
Alain dressed after Patrice left, feeling rested and almost satisfied. Patrice still had doubts about them being together, but Alain had none. She was sweet to agree to help him track down his father’s killer, though he would do some investigating on his own.
He’d already talked to the neighbors and traced his father’s last day. Thomas Dupree had done some grocery shopping at one of the supermarkets in west Sedona and had visited his nearest neighbor, Howard Weiss. Howard was the same age as Alain’s father and had been friends with him for thirty years. The two had drunk a few beers and talked, then Thomas had gone home.
Alain had scented Howard’s distress and grief over losing his closest friend, but not one ounce of guilt. Nor had Howard known what Alain’s father had done once he’d gone home—Howard was not even aware that Thomas Dupree had been a werewolf.
Thomas and his friend had liked to hang in Cottonwood, at a bar where tourists didn’t go. Alain would have to nose around there, too, to find out who else had been in contact with his father, to find out who had known he’d been a werewolf.
“You won’t find him by searching that way,” Coyote Jackson said behind him.
Alain didn’t even jump. He was getting used to Jackson’s abrupt comings and goings. The man again wore jeans riding low on his hips, his torso bare, his straight black hair hanging to his waist.
“Why not?” Alain asked.
“Your father’s human friends know nothing about his death. They liked him, but they didn’t know he was Were. Your dad kept that a big secret.”
Alain didn’t even feel dismay that his cock was rising, getting hard at the sight of Jackson’s body and the memory of the man in his mouth. It should bug him that another man made him horny, but it didn’t. Patrice made him just as horny, and he suddenly wished she were here so they could all three tangle together on the bed.
“He followed you last night,” Jackson said calmly. “I felt his madness and his rage. He wants you dead too.”
“Why? Who was he?”
Jackson looked glum. “I don’t know. I borrowed a hawk to spy for me—I can only turn into a coyote. I spotted him, but then the hawk saw a stray ground squirrel and his instincts took over. Do you know what it feels like to plummet to the ground at seventy miles an hour, hot for blood? I left his mind just in time but the hunter disappeared. Maybe he heard me scream.”
“Do you have any idea who he was?”
“I couldn’t find anything when I searched the ground where I’d seen him. He’d run off. At least you and Patrice were safe for the rest of the night. I’ll visit Patrice today and have her check out the place.”
“Screw that. I want to check it out. Take me there.”
Jackson put a strong hand on Alain’s chest. “No.”
“No? Why not? This guy could have killed my father. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”
“Some idea, yes. My mother was mortal, and she was murdered. Long story.”
Alain stopped. “Oh, hey, sorry. But then you do know what I’m going through.”
“I do. I want Patrice because she’s an experienced crime investigator. She knows how to not disturb the scene and how to gather evidence. We should do this right so the guy can be arrested and pay for what he did. It was murder.”
“I know. That’s why I want vengeance.”
Jackson put his hands on his shoulders. The two men stood about the same height, brown eyes staring into silver.
“You’re too emotional about it—with good reason. Let Patrice and me handle this. We’re angry for you, but we can make it right. Vengeance so often goes wrong—take it from me. He will pay, Alain, don’t worry.”
Jackson spoke reason, but Alain was too torn up inside to be reasonable. “Talk to Patrice, but don’t you dare take her out there without me. I need this.”
Jackson’s touch became soothing. He closed the remaining distance between them, his body coming against Alain’s. “You need justice and closure. You need to be safe. You need to trust me.”
“Sure.”
Jackson’s stern expression melted into his playful grin. “You can trust Coyote. I’ve got your best interests at heart.”
He pressed his palm flat against Alain’s chest, under which Alain’s heart beat fast and hard. Strong fingers released the buttons of Alain’s shirt and slid inside to caress bare skin.
Ala
in swallowed as his body heated. “You’re trying to distract me.”
Coyote’s grin became an incandescent smile. “Maybe. Is it working?”
Chapter Five
Hell yes, it was working. Alain cupped his hands around Jackson’s ass and pulled him tight to him. Their mouths found each other, strong lips and strong tongues tangling in a kiss.
It was sensuality Alain had only dreamed about. A woman’s body—Patrice’s body—was soft and beautiful and delicious. Jackson’s was hard and honed and strong. Alain wouldn’t have to hold back with him.
“Don’t hold back,” Jackson echoed in a low voice. “Do what you want.”
“Are you reading my mind?” Alain said, his lips an inch from Jackson’s.
“Nah. I just know what you’re thinking.”
“I’m wondering why the hell I want you so much. I’ve never been interested in men.”
Jackson swiped Alain’s lips with his tongue. “I’m irresistible, that’s why.”
“Oh, right, that must be it.”
Jackson laughed, low and throaty. “Get your clothes off and we’ll play.”
The shirt, jeans and underwear that Alain had just pulled on ended up in a pile on the floor. Jackson got rid of his jeans, the only thing on his body, and they resumed the tongue play, the two of them standing up with arms around each other.
The difference between kissing Jackson and a woman was that Jackson had a spicy bite he’d never tasted before, plus Alain had never had his cock rubbing against another man’s. It felt damn wonderful, like fucking without fucking. Jackson was as hard as Alain, his cock tight.
“I’ve never done this before,” Alain murmured around kisses.
“That’s obvious. You’ve got a nice ass.”
“You don’t want to fuck me, do you?” Alain couldn’t decide if the idea excited or worried him.
“Of course I want to fuck. I’ll teach you to do me—then I’ll work you up gradually to take me.”
Alain took a step back, his cock so hard it ached. “I have some condoms in the bathroom.”
Jackson shook his head. “I’m a demigod. Divine. No diseases, not me to you or you to me. Though if you’ve got lube, that’s good.”
Alain made himself walk into the bathroom and come back out with a tube of gel he’d bought yesterday in Cottonwood, intending on using it with Patrice. But then Patrice had come over, ripping off her clothes and hotter than fire, and they hadn’t needed it.
If Alain came while thinking about him and Patrice, he wouldn’t need it with Jackson either, he reminded himself. When he walked back into the bedroom Coyote was already on the bed, lying on his back, his thumb on the base of his cock.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said.
“I’m not,” Alain said, holding the tube and watching the other man stroke himself.
“Yes you are. But it’s only me.”
I want this. Alain got on the bed, resting on his knees, the tube of gel in his hand. Jackson smiled at him, a slow, sensual smile that made Alain’s heart beat faster.
“Kneel here,” Jackson said, patting the blanket. “Between my legs.”
Alain positioned himself as directed while Jackson spread his legs and wrapped them around Alain’s hips. The move let Alain see all of Jackson’s staff from base to tip, the dark hair curling around his sac.
“Nice,” Alain said.
“Use the lube.”
Alain opened the tube and smeared some on his hand, then swiped it up the length of his own cock. The gel was cold but quickly warmed as he stroked. He had the sudden vision of Patrice doing this for him, slicking him up as Jackson waited on his back, the three of them naked. He swallowed and clenched his fist.
“Now me.”
Jackson showed Alain how to lube him and use his fingers to stretch and relax him, things Alain had heard about but never tried. Then Jackson lifted his hips until Alain’s tip was right at Jackson’s opening.
“Come on in,” Jackson invited him, wrapping his legs around Alain’s waist. “It’s just like fucking a woman. Except completely different.”
“You got that right.”
Alain’s body became slick with sweat, his heart beating in excitement and anticipation. He gently pushed his cock inside and both men groaned with the sensation. Alain had never done this, not even with a woman, never having known one who was into it. He moved gently, knowing he was big, fearing he’d hurt the other man.
Jackson gripped his wrists, his face relaxed in pleasure. “Go on, I can take it. I’m a god.”
“A demigod,” Alain corrected, voice hoarse. “One who likes sex.”
“Why not? It’s one of the joys given to humans—compensation for not being immortal. Some demigods pretend to hold themselves above it, but I love all kinds of sex, male and female. I don’t have to restrict myself to one or the other. I enjoy it all.”
“Lucky you.”
His eyes darkened. “Oh, I am lucky. You can’t hurt me, Alain. I want you filling me.”
That was good, because Alain wanted to fill him. He laid his hands across Jackson’s hips and thrust all the way in.
Alain stilled as astonishing sensations poured over him. Heat and tightness and incredible joy. Maybe it was Jackson’s semi-divineness that made Alain shout with ecstasy. He threw his head back, feeling the ends of his hair tickling his back, feeling Jackson squeeze him hard. Jackson’s balls rubbed the base of his cock and damn that felt good.
“Stroke me,” his lover said.
Alain grasped Jackson’s staff, his hand still slick with lube. Jackson’s groan was as heartfelt as Alain’s.
“That’s it,” Jackson breathed. “You’re good.”
“I only know what I’d like.”
“You keep on doing what you’d like and I’ll enjoy it.”
Both hands around Jackson’s cock now, he moved his hips a little to pump inside. Jackson lay back, his black hair spilling across the bed, his sculpted chest, washboard abs and dark areoles sexy as hell.
“I’m fucking a man,” Alain said, trying to wrap his brain around the wonderful things he felt.
“Demigod.”
“I love it.” He stroked and twisted Jackson’s big cock in his hands, fondling the tip, rubbing the sides. “I think I love you.”
“Damn, I hope so.”
“I’m going to come.”
Jackson tightened his grip on Alain’s arms. “Not yet. I want to feel you a little longer.”
Maybe it was the coyote’s divine powers, but Alain felt his pulse slow, the urge to climax recede a little. It still felt damn good, but manageable now instead of a frenzy.
He lost track of how long they lingered there, tangled together, Jackson encouraging him as Alain filled him and fucked him. It was a good, long time, both men reveling in the pleasure of it. When Alain came at last, it was the most intense orgasm of his life.
The shuddering and shaking went on a while and finally Alain pulled out and fell heavily to the bed next to Jackson. He stroked Jackson’s cock a little longer and seconds later, Jackson climaxed.
They lay together, both silent, as the breeze outside jingled the wind chimes Alain’s mother had loved so many years ago. A mockingbird called from somewhere down the creek, mixed with the peeping of finches in the birch trees. Jackson kissed him, lips soft and warm.
“You love Patrice,” Jackson murmured.
“It’s a wolf thing, the need to mate. Probably on her part too. Wolves mate for life.”
“So it had better be love. Don’t worry, it will be.”
“I wish I knew what the hell you were talking about,” Alain said. “I haven’t been able to think straight since you or Patrice showed up. I can’t believe I just fucked you.”
Jackson’s dark eyes filled with mirth. “Did you like it?”
“Hell yes.” Alain threaded his fingers through the man’s silky black hair. “I even want to do it again. But I want Patrice. I’m confusing myself.”
“N
o you’re not. You want her because she’s hot and you’re falling in love with her, and you want me because I make your sexual fantasies come true. She’s your love; I’m the sex toy.”
Alain let his touch rove down Jackson’s body. “I think it’s more than that.”
“Maybe.” Jackson sat up and reached for his jeans. “Next stop, Patrice. I’ll give her your love.”
“You’re leaving already? You haven’t even promised to call me yet.”
Jackson laughed. “I should have gone right to Patrice, but you distracted me.” He swiped his tongue over Alain’s mouth. “A fun distraction.”
“Will you tell her?”
Jackson’s eyes widened. “About this? She’ll know. Hmm, but maybe I could demonstrate. She’s your mate but…”
Alain thought about that. “I’m betting she wouldn’t be able to resist you the same way I couldn’t. But if there’s any fucking, I want to be there.”
“I think I can arrange that.” Jackson leaned down, brushed Alain’s lips with his again, then rose from the bed and glided out of the room.
Alain lay still for a moment, liking the warmth of the bed and the sated feeling in his body. He yawned and got out of bed, starting to tell Jackson he could give him a lift into town. When he entered the living room, it was empty.
“Jackson?”
He hadn’t heard the door open or close. He walked to the window and peered out, hands on hips. He didn’t see a soul in the yard or on the drive, no tall, dark-haired man following the creek path.
Alain pulled back into the middle of the living room. “I wish I knew how he did that.”
He shook his head then went to dress and put his own plans into action.
* * * * *
Patrice closed the thin file she’d looked at twenty times, no wiser as to what really happened to Alain’s father. The file held a few cursory reports and the computer files held only scanned copies of those.
She knew Jackson had entered the room before she even turned from the computer. Every sense went on alert as he leaned over the desk, his biceps working, and smiled down at her. She smelled the scent of sex, Jackson and Alain all mixed up, and she grew wet and warm.
Howlin' Page 4
