by J. D. Light
After a long moment of staring up at the ceiling in shock, I shook my head, deciding I really wasn't sure I wanted to be naked when he got back, so I scrambled around, looking for my boxers and jeans. I was just pulling a not ripped T-shirt over my head when there was a knock at the door.
I frowned over at it, wondering why the most invasive person I've ever met in my life hadn't just walked right back in like he owned the place.
I opened the door, with a smart ass remark primed, and a smirk on my face, but all amusement fled the moment I saw Darian Phillips standing right there in front of me, his lips pursed like I'd left him standing too long, even if it had only been for the length of time it had taken me to cross the floor.
"Sir! What… Do you need something?"
Chapter Four
The murmur of voices from the hallway as I came out of my own bathroom into my room made me pause in pulling on my new shirt, and I moved over to the door, crouching low to better hear through the crack below.
The walls had all been made as soundproofed as possible, but doors had still had to have enough room to swing over the carpet without getting stuck, so there was enough of a gap at the bottom to make it possible to hear through them if you were determined, and since Lane and I were the only ones at this end of the hall, I was very curious as to who would be down here.
"I know you have a couple days off coming up," I heard Darian say, and I curled my lip in disgust. I truly hated that man, and I hated the way Lane looked right after one of their conversations. "But we're having a last minute get together this weekend and we're going to need all the help we can get. Do you think you can postpone your plans?"
I managed to keep my growl at bay, but just barely. The man posed it as a question, like Lane actually had a choice, but all three of us knew it wasn't. If he wanted Lane to be there this weekend, Lane would be there.
"Of course," Lane said easily, even though I knew he was dying inside at the prospect of sitting through anther of these people's events.
"Great. I knew I could count on you, Lane."
I frowned, not liking anything about this little situation. I waited until the man was well and truly down the hallway before slipping out of my door and into Lane's. As expected, Lane was pacing the floor with agitated strides, and I closed the door behind me, taking a moment just to watch him.
Mate. It was both unbelievable and completely expected. I'd known since the first time I met him that there was something special about that man, and within a few short minutes, I'd started to suspect our bond, but with the necessity of his delphinium to keep his scent hidden and therefore harder to track by shifters, I myself hadn't been able to scent him. Because of how the delphinium for agents was made, specially blended to cover the wearer's unique scent, even up close with my nose pressed to his neck, I couldn't scent the man.
But his taste. Fuck. Kissing him had been like licking a fucking lightning bolt. His flavor had been glorious, and the way he'd attacked my mouth like he was trying to punish it, had made my whole body come alive.
He turned, his eyes meeting mine, and I could see the hesitation as he completely overthought his next move and whether or not he should come to me or pretend like what we did earlier didn't happen.
I smirked, shaking my head and moving over to him, pulling him against my body immediately, and pressing his head down onto my shoulder. He relaxed, taking a deep breath before pressing even closer, wrapping his arms around my body and pulling me in tight as I did the same to him.
"Why do you think he came all the way here to ask you that?" I asked after a moment. "Doesn't he usually just call you?"
Hell, the fact that he was even in the house at all before a Friday was pretty surprising since he was usually on set. Whatever this impromptu gathering was, it had to be pretty special to get him to take time off of work.
"Yeah," he said against the side of my neck. "It seemed weird to me too."
"I don't like this," I grumbled, running my hands over the muscles in his back. "Something's wrong."
Lane pulled back, his light-blue eyes far away as a frown pulled at his brows, making me smile slightly. "What if… " He dragged his hands over his face before pulling out of my arms completely and going back to pacing.
The motions were more frantic, and his face more pinched. I couldn't help but wonder what he was overthinking right then.
"What's wrong?" I finally asked after a long moment, trying to give him a little time to get his thoughts straight.
He stopped, turning to give me a hard look that made my stomach flip happily. "Are you my mate?" he asked on a whisper, his eyes caught somewhere between hopeful and careful.
It had taken a lot for him to ask that. I knew that now. The man had put me in my place more than a few times over the past few weeks, completely confident in his ability to do his job, as he should be, since he was damn good at it, that was as far as his confidence extended, and in his personal life, it was practically non-existent.
I smiled, once again moving to stand in front of him, reaching out to snatch the front of his shirt and jerk him to me, pressing my lips to his. "Yes," I whispered against his mouth, feeling his gasp and then angling my head and scorching us both with a rough kiss, one of my hands releasing his shirt to go straight to the back of his head so I could pull his mouth more firmly to mine. So, I could grind my lips against his and force-feed him my tongue.
He groaned, his hands finding my hips and pulling us more tightly together.
We broke apart, gasping for air, and he pressed his forehead to mine, closing his eyes.
"Holy shit," he whispered, smiling softly. "When did you figure it out?"
I smirked, letting my fingers play with the closely cropped hair on the back of his head. "The kiss." His eyes widened, and then a smile slowly slid onto his face. "I suspected for a while, but it was the confirmation I needed."
He blinked, reaching up to play with the small necklace he always wore. The one that contained the delphinium. "How? I thought you needed to be able to scent me."
"Unless the delphinium is in your body––which they're working on, just so you know––your taste gives you away."
He licked his lips, probably thinking about that fucking kiss. It had absolutely destroyed me and put me back together. I could only hope it had half the effect on him that it had had on me. "But why did you suspect before?" he asked after a moment, his eyes dropping to my mouth. "You said the kiss was confirmation.
I smiled, pressing my lips to his lightly and speaking against his mouth. "I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to kiss you since we first met. I've wanted a lot of things from you from that first meeting. I'm absolutely obsessed, to the point of worrying myself actually. It was a relief to know that you really were my mate, and I hadn't suddenly become obsessed. I've been sucked in by you from the very beginning."
His eyes slid closed and a small, sound escaped his throat, sounding somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "This is real?"
"Yes," I growled against his lips. "Definitely."
He pulled back slightly, opening his blue, blue eyes and capturing mine. "Are you…" He licked his lips and swallowed hard, clearly struggling with his question. "Are you disappointed."
I groaned, pulling his head down to rest his forehead against mine. "You've been around shifters enough to know better than that, baby."
He groaned, closing his eyes again as his face crumpled slightly. "I know, but that's everyone else. I'm… I was planning on losing some weight before I found my mate."
Damn. It was clearly going to take a little time to get my mate's confidence up where it needed to be, but I was up for the challenge. I'd prove to him every day how much I wanted his body. How perfect he was for me.
It's going to be tough, stripping him naked and worshiping every inch of him, but somebody's got to fuck some confidence into him. Poor me.
I managed to keep from chuckling at my own stupid joke, knowing my laughter right then wouldn't be tak
en well. Instead, I slid my hands down over his shoulders and chest, copping a feel of his generous pecs, and brushing my thumbs over his nipples, watching them pearl beneath the fabric of his shirt. "This," I growled, when my hands slid lower, over his slightly overhanging belly. "Is fucking gorgeous. Everything about you is. I can't wait to strip you down completely and claim you. To sink into your thick, gorgeous ass with my dick and your strong, beautiful shoulders with my teeth."
He started to suck his stomach in, but I pressed my thigh between his legs, lightly sliding it against his balls, and his breath punched out of him. I sank my hands into the softness of his stomach, loving the way he felt in my hands and the moan that left his throat when I pressed closer, sliding lower, one moving over the front of his pants and settling over his dick while the other massaged his plump flesh, making him shiver.
"Fuck," he whispered, his hands clutching at my hips like he wanted to move them, but wasn't sure where he should put them. I had a few suggestions, but I was going to be good, and let him decide how he wanted to touch me. "This is fucking amazing."
"Yes, it is," I whispered, just as awed as he was. "How did you know you were going to have a mate someday."
"Oh," he said, his face once again looking worried. He pulled back, stepping out of my arms and spinning to give me his back. He was watching me over his shoulder nervously, and then he took a deep breath and turned his head as he slowly raised the back of his shirt. Right there in the middle of his back on the left side, was a mark. A very, recognizable mark. "I was just assuming."
"You're chosen," I said, my voice raising more than I'd planned as a panic like I'd never felt before in my life swamped me.
He spun, his eyes wide, his shirt dropping in place. "Does that change things for you?" he asked on a choked whisper, his fingers tugging hard at the hem of his shirt as he hunched in on himself.
"Yes!" Of course, it changed things. How could it not.
He actually seemed to take my one syllable word like a fucking blow to the stomach. Air left his lungs and he hunched over just a little further, his arms wrapping around him like he was trying to hold himself together, and I stepped forward, reaching for him, worried something was wrong.
"Oh," he whispered quietly, his eyes falling to his feet. "I can take birth control."
I almost didn't understand his words, his voice was so meek and quiet. What the hell did birth control have to do with anything? We were talking about him being chosen in the middle…
"What?" I asked, suddenly realizing what the problem might be. "No!" I didn't hesitate to touch him then, reaching out and grabbing him hard, pulling him against my body and wrapping my arms around him. "That's not what I meant, baby. Not at all. I just can't believe you've been fucking working for these people who would happily stick you in one of those fucking cages. What if they see your mark? What if they already have?"
His eyes were filled with tears that he'd thankfully not shed, and he dashed them away quickly, shaking his head. "That's nearly impossible. I'm never without a shirt. Even if I didn't have the mark, I've never really felt comfortable without a shirt in front of people."
"We're going to work on that confidence because you have a gorgeous body, and I'm going to expect to see you naked a lot." He bit his bottom lip, giving me a small, sweet smile, blushing hard. "So, you're pretty sure there's not a chance at all that someone saw this mark?"
"No… maybe? I really don't see how. You know the extent of my sexual history… because you are the extent of my sexual history."
I growled, using my arms around him to pull him closer, needing him pressed against me. "That's right, baby. And I will always be the extent of your sexual history." I rubbed his back while he rested his head on my shoulder and I loved how he melted into me. "I wish I could give the same to you, but what I can give you is the knowledge that you are the only person in the entire world that I have ever been this drawn to, and you are the only person I would even consider spending the rest of my life with.
I kissed his mouth, easing away, and checking every inch of his room. He let me, probably having already done the same, but willing to let me without giving me shit… for once, since he knew I needed to make sure my perfect mate was completely safe.
"There's nothing in here," I said as I left the bathroom, but to be safe, maybe you should only get naked in my room."
He laughed, his eyes widening in surprise before he shook his head.
"What?" I demanded, giving him a little wink. "Two birds. I have equipment in my room to mess up surveillance signals, and I'd get to watch you get naked."
He chuckled dropping his face to his hands and mumbling against his palms. "This is so fucking crazy. Are you sure I'm your mate?"
I nodded, leaning my head back for a kiss. We got no further than a rough press of lips before his phone rang, snagging both of our attention.
He groaned, letting his head fall back on his shoulders before he released me, going over and swiping his phone off of his dresser.
"Hey, West," he said when he answered, and I did my best not to growl, holding on to the jealous noise just barely.
"No, it's Gabriel," the deep voice on the other line said, and Lane's eyebrows shot up, his back going straight.
"Is West okay?" his worried eyes flew to me, and I stepped forward, letting him know I was there if he needed me.
"Yes! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. West has your number, and I don't, so I just used his phone."
"Oh, hey."
"One of Flynn's men found out that there is going to be a special auction Saturday night. Did you know anything about it?"
"Not really." He frowned, his eyes meeting mine again and holding. "Darian just stopped by to ask me if I'd stay for the weekend instead of taking my days off. He said we would need more security."
The voice on the other line gave a hum that sounding almost like a growl. "Apparently, they have a new chosen, and I get the impression he's a fighter. It's not even an auction really since they're basically selling tickets to an event. They're calling it Fight and Claim. It promises great entertainment, bets, and free drinks. On top of the event tickets, there's an entry fee for contestants. The shifter who wants a chance at the chosen pays to play. They go in one by one, and if one of them can best the chosen without shifting, then they get to claim him."
"They're turning this thing into a dog fight?" Lane whispered, his voice breaking as he sank to the edge of the bed. I sat next to him, putting my arm around him and pulling him into my body.
"I'm so sorry, Lane," a different voice said, this one sounding a lot like West's. "I know you hate this."
Lane turned to me, tilting his head. "Have we gotten any new chosen in lately?" he asked, sounding confused.
"Not that I know of. If they have this chosen, they're keeping him somewhere else."
"Shit," Lane said, closing his eyes and raising the phone back into position, sighing. "Thanks, Gabriel. We'll see what we can figure out."
"Who's we?" Gabriel asked, his voice sounding even more growly than it had a moment before, and I blinked at the phone, a small smile tipping up one side of my mouth. "Are you talking about that asshole who's obsessed with you?"
"What?" Jax said, his face burning bright red as he glanced over at me.
I smirked, leaning forward to peck a kiss to his lips. "He is," I said close to the phone. "My name's Jax."
"I'm sorry," Gabriel grumbled, dryly, not at all sounding sincere. "You should probably have a long chat with your mother about that."
Lane gasped, pulling the phone away and looking at it in confusion like any of this was the machine's fault, and I laughed, finding Gabriel's attitude sweet, and my mate's response adorable.
"Then you admit you're obsessed with him?" West said, like he'd solved the biggest mystery of all, and I laughed.
Lane's face was almost purple he was blushing so hard, and a flutter of happiness moved through me just thinking about him being mine for the rest of my life.<
br />
I reached out, gripping his wrist holding the phone in one hand and his handsome face in the other, turning it so he was looking into my eyes, and raising the phone to speak into it. "Definitely."
"Oh," West said, sounding disappointed. "That was anticlimactic."
I had to disagree with him on that. It seemed fucking amazing to me.
"He's… he's my mate," Lane said softly, his eyes scanning my face like he was expecting me to contradict him or something.
"Oooh. That makes so much sense."
"Hmm," Gabriel hum-growled again, not sounding all that happy. "Don't let our boy get hurt, Jax."
"I'm not going to let my man get hurt," I said with conviction. "How about that?"
There was a low grunt and then the phone disconnected, and I chuckled, using the hand I still had on his face to pull him closer for a kiss. "I like them," I whispered against his mouth.
He pulled back, giving me a skeptical look and a smirk. "I don't think Gabriel likes you."
"That's why I like him. It means he cares enough about what happens to you not to trust me when he hasn't met me. I like that you have people that care about you."
I pecked his lips again, worried I might have stumbled on a compulsive disorder. One that wouldn't let me go without feeling his lips against mine for more than a few seconds at a time.
"What about you?" he asked, chuckling softly against my face before accepting another peck to his lips. "Do you have people who care?"
"I think someone will soon."
"I think he already does," he confessed, his eyes wide and honest as he looked at me.
The next time I pressed my lips to his, I didn't let up until I was roughly shoving my tongue into his mouth, and him happily approving as I rocked against him until we were both spilling in our pants.
At this rate, I'm going to have to clean laundry a lot sooner than I thought.
***
"It's fucking crazy in the auction room. It actually looks like a fucking gladiators' arena or something, Lane said pacing his room the following night. "I fucking hate this. I can't do this fucking job anymore, Jax. Some poor guy is going to have to fight for his freedom… but we all know how that's going to turn out. If he's truly good, he might be able to fight one or two shifters before he starts to show signs of wear, but that's if he's specially trained. I know we'll end up with him eventually, but what about what he has to endure until then?"
