by BA Tortuga
Well, okay, then. That worked for him. He grabbed Sam’s arm and started tugging. Sam’s laugh tickled his ear. Kind of made him want to beat the man bloody. Or fuck him blind. Or both. Uhn.
They hurried to the car, and Sam slipped into the passenger seat, almost vibrating next to him. Gus pushed in behind the wheel, glancing around. The parking lot was huge, and no one was paying him any mind, so he took a kiss. He chuffed at the surprised little sound he got. It wasn’t often you shocked Puss. Hot damn. The kiss went hot for a moment, almost turning into something no one should do under a big, childlike mouse sign.
“Hotel. Bed. Now, Pup.” That snarl was pure sex.
“Yeah. Now.” Thank God traffic was moving once they got out on the highway.
“I love LA. It’s got such a different vibe from New York.”
“I bet it’s less crazy than New York. More room to run too.” Gus loved to run when the wolf was on him, and he’d seen Sam go and go when they’d played chase.
“I bet. I haven’t noticed many shifters here.”
“No?” Gus hadn’t even paid a bit of attention. “Are there a lot in New York?”
“Yes.” The word was clipped, short.
That sounded ominous. Gus got off the interstate and headed toward their hotel. “Is that bad?”
Sam chuckled softly. “I can think of a thousand things that are better.”
“Huh.” He let it go, not wanting to spoil the mood completely. His cock was telling him there was still a mood. The way Sam’s fingers traced the inseam of his jeans proved he wasn’t the only one either.
“Don’t crash us now, man. We’re almost there.”
“I wouldn’t do that. Focus.” Those fingers kept right on touching.
“Huh?” Oh, right. Look, there was the hotel.
“Pay attention, Puppy.” Fingertips brushed his balls.
His legs drew up, his foot slipping on the pedal a little. Gus got it together long enough to park, though.
“Very nice.”
He was going to beat Sam’s ass. “I’m going to tear you up, babe.”
“Promises, promises.”
“You know it. I’ve always made good on my promises.” Okay, so he used to promise to kick Sam’s ass, not do naughty things to it. Still, a promise was a promise.
Grinning, Gus hopped out of the car, chasing Sam when he popped up and headed out at a run. The slinky little fucker was quick, sliding up the stairs at light speed. Gus bounded after, all but panting. He could damned near see Sam’s tail. The only reason he caught up to Sam was because the man fumbled with the card key at the door. They tumbled into the room, hands on each other. Gus pulled Sam around and kissed him.
Hands cupped his head, tugged him in to that wild, needy mouth, Sam sucking up his growl, and Gus humped a little, needing so bad, his body wild with it. Sam’s cock was as hard as his; he could feel it, rubbing against him. Gus hummed, moaned, maybe whimpered like a puppy. Sam made him want to wallow a little.
“Come catch me.” Sam leapt onto the bed, the motion surprising, powerful. Gus wanted to howl, but he gave chase instead. He bounded on the bed, reaching for Sam. Their chests slapped together, Sam’s legs twining with his, locking them together.
Gus grunted, kissing Sam until he couldn’t breathe. God. Yes.
They rocked together like beasts, rutting, growling into each other’s lips. Gus touched Sam wherever he could, just wanting skin. He bit at Sam’s neck, leaving a mark.
That got him a low yowl, the lean body rippling for him.
“Mmm.” He hummed, growled, wiggling and panting.
“Toothy pup.” Sam purred softly, cheek sliding on his.
“Uh-huh. You like it.” Someone was scenting him. It was stunningly hot.
“I do.” That too-rough tongue slid over his ear.
His nipples pulled up, his hips rocking. “Do what?” He was losing the thread.
“Like it. When you bite.” Fingers pinched his nipple.
“Oh, good.” He bit down on Sam’s shoulder, his skin alive with shivers. The low rowl split the air, and he chuffed softly, shook Sam a little, making sure to leave a mark.
He needed to mark that fine skin for some reason. Needed to make Sam his, even for a little while. Sam whimpered softly, the sound pure sex, pure need, hands holding him there. His lips moved over dozens of scars, other bite marks, scratches.
He filed that away to ask about later. Right now connect the dots was more fun. Sam’s cock was like a brand, leaking against his thigh. He reached for it, pressing the heel of his hand against it. God, that felt good.
“Mmm.” Sam nuzzled him, claws digging into his shoulders.
“Sweet kitty.” He grinned, thinking how Sam might have tried to claw his eyes out for this not long ago. Now he was squeezing Sam’s cock, ready to go off like a bottle rocket.
“Puppy.” Sam panted, tongue rough on his skin.
“You make me feel like one, for sure.” He rocked, hips moving.
“Want you.” Sam caught his earlobe in sharp teeth and tugged.
“You want to ride me, Puss?” Gus wanted it bad enough that his balls ached, his teeth gritting.
“More than I fucking want my next breath. Get naked.”
He started stripping off, even though he had to let go to do it. Sam wasn’t running, though. Sam bared that long, lean body for him, cock full, heavy. Gus reached out, pulling the man back in, needing contact. Sex was a full-body sport. His hands were fascinated by Sam’s body, and his skin ached where that rough tongue dragged over him.
They twisted and turned, touching, tasting, and he finally got a good hold on Sam’s body, sliding down. He needed to get the man ready to go.
“Where are you going?” Sam reached for him, eyes heated, shining.
“You’ll see.” He kissed one sharp hipbone, then the tip of Sam’s cock, before he turned the man around.
Sam’s ass was tight, pale as milk, and so fine. Gus bit one asscheek, wanting Sam to feel the sting. Sam yelped, stilled for a second, then pushed back against him. Gus rubbed his cheek against the smooth skin, breathing deep. His hands spread Sam wide, opening the tight hole.
He loved the way Sam shivered and rolled, muscles fucking amazing. Gus licked a hot line down from Sam’s tailbone, starting to get the man wet. Lean thighs spread, Sam arching for him, begging for it, so Gus closed his eyes and went to work, pushing his tongue in. He needed that hot little hole good and wet.
Sam let him in and in, rocking back with every fucking lick. Sensual man. Hot, hot, hot. Sam was burning up inside. He heard the sheets rip as Sam arched, pushed back against him. Gus chuckled, licking, holding those lean hips. He wanted more than movement; he wanted Sam crazy. He wanted Sam mad for him, begging for his cock. Gus licked and bit and really opened the man up, two fingers sliding in and out of Sam’s hole. Fuck….
Sam slammed back against him, took him to the second knuckle.
“Fuck. Fuck, Sam.” He panted against that sweet skin. “More.”
“Fuck me. Fuck me, Gus. Now. Hard.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” He stood, pushing Sam facedown, using a little more spit to prepare the way, and Sam took him in when he lined up, body hot and tight as fuck around his prick.
His eyes rolled. Oh, fuck. That was like—damn.
“Yes. Deeper. Fuck.” Sam yowled.
“Yeah. Yeah, babe.” Oh, man. He wasn’t gonna last long. Gus grabbed Sam’s hips, fingers digging in as he slammed in, giving Sam every fucking inch. His body shuddered, his breath coming hard and fast. Sam felt like the best thing he’d ever known. Like home. He leaned forward, bit Sam’s nape, the act imprinted in his soul. Sam yowled for him again, and they’d be fucking lucky if no one called and complained about noise.
He felt Sam’s orgasm, the man’s body rippling around him, and Gus shouted, his hips jerking madly back and forth. He came so hard his teeth rattled. They settled down on the mattress together, panting heavily. Sam’s body kept working his cock,
muscles jerking restlessly.
“Gonna kill me, Puss.” He patted one asscheek.
“Nah. You’re too fun to do that.”
“Better than Space Mountain, even.”
“Much, much better.” He almost gagged, just thinking of it. He pinched Sam instead, laughing as Sam hissed softly, spine curling. “Mmm. Did we bring any food, or is my turn to get room service?”
“Pick up the phone and dial, Pup.”
“’Kay.” Gus got room service and made what he was starting to think of as their order. Tuna. Steak. Milk. Sweets.
Sam cleaned them up, purrs rumbling in the lean chest. Gus could get to like this. It was a dangerous thought. An unnatural thought, really. Sam was a city dweller, a feline. Not someone to mate with. Gus hated it when reality intruded. He sighed, rolling his head on his neck.
“You cool?”
He swore he could see Sam’s whiskers twitching. “Huh? Yeah. What are you doing this full moon?”
“Hiding in my apartment.”
“Hiding….” Hell, Sam could do that back at their old homestead. “Come run with me. I’m going to Mexico.”
“Mexico? What’s in Mexico?”
“Lots of room to run. Some Mexican fire opals just waiting for me.” He tickled Sam’s belly, trying to reduce the tension.
“Mmm. I haven’t been to Mexico during the moon.”
“So come with me. There’s not a lot out there.” It was important, somehow.
Sam nodded. “If I don’t have any gigs. I have to check my schedule.”
How could the man work during the moon? “You work? Dude. I would go crazy.”
“Only during the day. I spend the nights at home.”
“Why?” Oh, he knew it was stupid to push, but it was unnatural, and he knew there was something there, some secret, like a stone wanting to be unburied.
“Why what?”
“Why hide? I mean, you should run.”
He got an incredulous look. “I’ve lost enough skin, enough time. You can’t trust us.”
“Us?” What the hell did that mean?
“Shifters.” Sam backed away a little.
“You mean you can’t trust me? Shit, Puss, I know I was crap when we were kids, but we’ve had some laughs.” They’d done good together.
“No. No, that’s not what I mean.” Sam shook his head. “You’re not in the city.”
“No. I’m not.” He couldn’t see how Sam could do it either. “I like it a bit more natural, Puss.”
“There’s not a whole lot natural about me.”
“No. No, I guess not.” Gus figured he was an anomaly too, but he wasn’t going to say that to Sam.
Sam tensed, found some sweats to pull on, which was good. He was getting too attached to that ass. His kind didn’t hook up with Sam’s kind. He knew that. Sam knew that.
Gus hunted down a pair of boxer briefs and pulled them on. “You gonna get all pissy on me, Puss? You know we’re oil and water.”
“What does that mean?” Sam ran his hands through his hair, the dark mass standing straight up.
“It means this is all good and well, but it’s not like you’re ever going to come hang with me in Mexico.”
“Like you’d welcome me there.” Sam met his eyes, challenging him. “What are you going to tell your wolfy friends? I’m your pet pussy? Your friend? Your mate?”
“Wolves don’t mate with cats.” Jesus. It was hard enough to be queer in his world. But to mate with Sam would be a disaster.
“No, they don’t.” Sam’s fingers traced a heavy set of scars on his chest, his cheek, and then he tugged his T-shirt on. “Good thing we fuck pretty well, though. Either that or you’re really good at faking it.”
“I don’t fake it. Hell, Puss, I like you.” He shook his head. “It’s not natural, but I do.”
“Don’t worry. I promise not to tell Pete. You’d never live it down.”
“Oh, fuck off. You gonna take me to your next premiere? Show off the wolfy arm candy?”
“I don’t go to premieres.”
Uh-huh. Right. At least he was fucking honest. “No, you’re just a hypocrite.” Gus shook his head. “I need a shower.”
“You’re right. Get the smell of me off of you. It sinks in—did you know? If you don’t get it off you? It’ll mark you forever.”
Gus glanced over his shoulder, raising a brow. “No, I’m just crusty. You want to be bitchy, though, you just go right ahead, Puss. Makes it easier to say good-bye when you go back to your own city.”
“Go shower, Puppy. The food will be here soon.” Sam looked at him, and suddenly the man seemed old and tired.
Gus wavered, wanting to go back and grab Sam in a hug and tell him it would all be okay. It wouldn’t, though, so he slipped into the bathroom and closed the door.
He pretended he didn’t hear it when Sam left the hotel room. Someone wasn’t sticking around for their tuna.
Gus tried to tell himself it was for the best.
12
“I called a friend to meet us for lunch. I hope that’s okay.” Pete grinned at Gus, and Gus kinda wanted to whack his brother over the head with a pickax. Hard. After two long days of making nice at a gem and mineral trade show in the fucking city, he had no desire to be social. He fucking hated it there.
“What friend?” Gus growled, his hands clenching and unclenching.
“Sam Finn. His mom has a bunch of stuff for him, things of his dad’s that she found when one of the boys came to clean out the attic. That’s one reason I could meet you out here, huh?” There was wickedness in Pete’s eyes.
Shit. Shit, shit. “So, you go meet him for lunch, man. I’ll finish shipping the stuff I need to ship.”
“Dude, don’t be rude! I need you there to plead my damn case.”
There was no way. No way he wanted to see Sam with Pete there. What if Pete scented something? Noticed something off? It hadn’t been long—just a few months. He wasn’t ready.
Not to mention that he might not be able to control his body’s reactions. Pete would be sure to see that, if Gus started getting physical.
“Your case for what? Everyone knows you’re boinking his sister.”
“Yeah, but he’s like the oldest brother and shit, and I need him to say it’s cool that Lizzie and I get married.” Pete looked suddenly like he did when the man was a boy, all eyes and whining.
“Married, huh? Pups on the way?” He wanted Pete to buck up; insulting the man generally worked.
Pete turned red. “Shut up.”
Oh, man.
“Shit. I hate it when I’m right.” He grinned a little. Pete really would need him to be there. Sam would eat his head.
“She’s it, man. I swear. I won’t do her wrong, but Mona’s still mourning and Gray’s wolfy and…. Sam’s my bud, bro, but I need backup.”
“Okay. When is lunch?” Maybe he’d have time to jack off until he was raw. Then his cock would stay down.
“We’re supposed to meet near his place around eleven.”
“Okay.” Gus had no idea where Sam even lived. Weird.
“Thanks, bro.” He got a wink, a half smile. “Sam lives in a crazy scary place. I don’t get it.”
Who the hell got anything about Puss? Ever? The cat was just maddening. He would look at the blue sky and tell you it was purple.
“So, no time to go clean up, huh?” Gus sighed. That sucked.
“He’s sending a car deal, so yeah. Go ahead.”
“Oh, cool. Thanks.” Gus ducked into the bathroom to try to take care of his cock while he took a shower.
There was no way he was going to be able to handle this. No fucking way. There was something about Sam that made him fucking stupid, made him do ridiculous things. He’d say something to make Sam kick him in the face, or Gus would try to jump the man and bite him….
Something.
Biting Sam sounded like a fabulous idea. Biting and listening to that yowl.
Oh God. He ducked under
the water in the hotel shower and got busy, gripping his cock a little too hard. He needed it to behave.
Still, it was Sam he thought about when he stroked. The way Sam arched under his touch, the way the scar on the man’s cheek tasted. He thought about that long, lean body and how strong those pretty legs were. Then he thought about Sam sucking his dick and he came like a teenager, so fast it made his balls ache.
He slumped against the shower tile, little lights dancing before his eyes. Fuck.
The pounding on the door almost made him slip and kill himself. “Are you done, man? Car’s five minutes out.”
“I’ll be right there. Shit. Keep your fucking shirt on!”
“Get your ass in gear!”
Man, Pete would only pull that shit when Gus was wet and naked and behind a locked door.
He hopped out, slip-sliding across the fucking bathroom floor like a drunken bear, slamming into the sink and banging the fuck out of himself. Goddamn it. He cursed viciously, his mood souring even more.
“Are you murdering someone in there?”
“No! I’m trying to get my teeth brushed so they’re minty fresh when I rip your throat out.”
“Don’t be a jerk! We’re going to be late.” Pete was just fixin’ to die. “You know, you need to put your jeans on, man.”
“I am, I am.” He skinned on his jeans, wincing when the lack of underwear made for a little pulling and chafing.
His T-shirt was tossed over, Pete holding a big box of stuff in one arm that smelled like home. “Slowpoke.”
“I was busy.” He knew he was snarling. Good thing his brother knew him well.
“Bitch. We’re having Italian.”
Good thing his T-shirt was black, just in case someone chucked a plate at him. “It’s not fancy, is it?” Gus asked, finally ready to head out.
“Sam wouldn’t do that. He’s not a prick. Besides, Sam isn’t the fancy food type.”
Like Pete knew. He’d spent a fabulous fucking night in bed with Sam eating three hundred dollars worth of steaks and fries, licking aioli off those long fingers. He wouldn’t even go into Sam spending fifty dollars on a single piece of tuna.
“Let’s go.” He rolled his head on his shoulders. Jesus Christ. He was so ready to get the fuck out of Dodge.
