Lion's Wrath

by Lynn Hagen

  Why hadn’t that dawned on him before? The way Mr. Grossman “accidently” brushed up against him or the sexual innuendos that had gone right over Baxter’s head.

  Baxter had always seen himself as smart and charming, but clearly he’d been dense as hell when it came to his boss’s advances.

  “I feel like a wuss,” Baxter said. “Having you protect me from harmless townsfolk. I’ve known most of the residents my entire life.”

  Damn it, Baxter melted when Scott pulled him into his strong arms. “We all need some sort of shield every once in a while. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Baxter was starting to feel like his old self, but a part of him knew that he would never be that old Baxter again. His life had changed and, in a way, not for the better.

  Then again, if he hadn’t been traveling on the road of destruction, he might not have ever met Scott.

  “Go get showered and dressed.” Scott released him. “I’ll clean up your disaster.”

  Maybe next time Baxter would use his phone and watch YouTube tutorials on how to make pancakes, because if he’d eaten the ones he’d just cooked, he might’ve ended up back at the clinic.

  * * * *

  The day was too fucking bright, but the sunlight allowed Caine’s corporeal form to fade, making him invisible. He followed Scott and Baxter into town, unbeknown to them, hitching a ride in the back of Scott’s truck.

  It had been two decades since Caine had been in the human realm. Things hadn’t changed much. Death, destruction, and hatred. Those things never went out of style. But a job was a job, and Caine was getting paid well to babysit the two.

  Maple Grove was a far cry from Remtin, and Caine would enjoy his time here while it lasted. He couldn’t stay, though. It wouldn’t do him or the people in this small town any good if he was here too long.

  Caine had a plethora of enemies, and they would love to tear this town apart to get to him. He couldn’t expose the residents to that kind of carnage.

  Not that he cared about anyone here. Caine just didn’t want to deal with the demon warriors if shit got funky. He’d managed to stay under their radar, and he planned on keeping it that way. He was muscle for hire, and he couldn’t do his job if he was locked away in the underworld.

  When Scott parked and the two went into the diner, Caine did a quick sweep of the town. He cursed when he saw Rythicam and his sidekick, Morbius. No one else saw the hellhounds. They were invisible to the naked eye, unless they wanted to be seen.

  Rythicam curled his lip when he saw Caine. “Here on a job, demon?”

  Hellhounds could spread misery like nobody’s business. As a couple passed them by, the humans began to argue.

  Caine shook his head as venom dripped in his veins. He really hated these two. “I see you’re still spreading the love.”

  Not a single person, not even the nonhuman residents, saw them. Morbius stuck out his foot, tripping some poor shmuck.

  “Who let you out?” Rythicam asked.

  “I could ask the same.” Caine wanted to go back to the diner, but he needed to know why those two jackoffs were in town. “Why’re you guys here?”

  “A job,” Morbius said with a sneer. “Don’t even think about interfering.”

  Caine gave a humorless chuckle. “Like I give a rat’s ass about these humans. Just don’t get in my way or I fucking swear I’ll send you both back to Hell.”

  Caine was one of few who could make good on that threat without having to stab either man in the black mark behind their ear. He was a high-ranking demon, powerful, and the most hated man in Remtin. But he meant the threat he’d issued the two hellhounds. Caine’s mind was always going in a dark direction, and he would wipe them out if they stuck their noses where they didn’t belong.

  With those parting words, Caine circled the block to throw the hellhounds off his trail. When he sensed they were gone, he went back to the diner and waited outside, watching everyone as Scott and Baxter ate their breakfast.

  * * * *

  Baxter was a nervous wreck, and he thought it was the anxiety of being outside that had him feeling as though he was being followed. He’d felt that way since leaving Scott’s house, and that strange tingle hadn’t left him yet.

  “Sit anywhere,” Kenny said when they entered.

  Once they were seated, Baxter’s gaze bounced everywhere, wondering who was human and who wasn’t. He spotted Moose on the other end of the diner and sized him up. A bear. That still blew Baxter’s mind.

  “How’re you doing?” Scott tapped Baxter’s foot with his own to gain his attention. “So far, so good?”

  Baxter nodded as he pulled his gaze back to Scott. “Starving.”

  Scott smiled. “That’s a good thing.”

  But the hovering wasn’t. Baxter held up a hand. “Do me a favor and don’t coddle me. Let’s pretend we’re just two people getting breakfast. No pep talks, no concerns. Just keeping things relaxed.”

  Scott nodded. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be that way. I just want to make sure you’re ready for this outing. I don’t want to think that I forced you into this.”

  “You did.” Baxter smiled. “And you were right. I do feel better.”

  If only he could shake the feeling of being watched.

  “Then no more hovering.” Scott picked up a menu. “I’m starving, too. The ham and eggs sound good.”

  Moose approached, carafe of coffee in hand. “Good morning, gents. Want some coffee?”

  Scott and Baxter overturned their mugs. As Moose poured, Baxter studied the goliath. He really, really wanted to see Moose change into a bear.

  Moose wiped at his face. “Got something on my handsome pucker?”

  “No,” Baxter said.

  “Then why are you studying me so hard?” The waiter winked. “Am I that good-looking that you can’t resist me?”

  Scott snarled.

  Baxter gaped at Moose. “No, I was just…I mean…sure, you’re nice-looking, but…I wasn’t….”

  Moose chuckled. “I was just teasing you.”

  “He knows,” Scott said under his breath. “Baxter’s my mate, and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to imagine you shifting.”

  Moose’s smile widened. “Congrats to both of you, but I only shift for my boo.”

  “Are you really—” Baxter chewed on his bottom lip.

  “A bear?” Moose tapped his chest with his fist. “Yep. I’m mated to the sheriff, in case you didn’t know that. He’s the boo I was referring to.”

  “Is he…a bear?” Baxter made sure to whisper because there was an elderly couple right behind them.

  “Nah, Grayson’s human. Damn good man to put up with my shit. Scott’s lucky to have you.”

  It was the other way around. Baxter felt lucky to have someone like Scott in his life, even if the guy didn’t want to have sex with him. And that was all Baxter seemed to think about since the night before. He’d woken in Scott’s bed, hard as a rock, ready to beg Scott to fuck him.

  But Scott had slept on the couch. Talk about feeling completely rejected.

  Then again, why would someone as upstanding as Scott want to get into bed with someone as screwed up as Baxter?

  He was lucky Scott even wanted to put up with him.

  And wasn’t that the most depressing thought ever?

  Even so, Baxter forced himself to have a good time. And he did. The food was great, but the company was even better.

  * * * *

  Scott could tell Baxter was nervous. His mate kept looking around, barely touching his food. But Baxter had asked him to stop hovering, so Scott kept his questions locked behind his lips.

  “This is really good.” Baxter’s smile was genuine, setting Scott’s worries aside. “I was here a few weeks ago with Jayce, but somehow the food tastes better than I remember.”

  Scott was listening, but his gaze kept wandering to Baxter’s lips. He felt just as pent-up as Baxter did. Trying to hold out was getting harder and harder. Scott walked arou
nd with a perpetual hard-on, and his lion was getting cranky.

  His beast wanted to claim Baxter. Scott just wanted to fuck the man’s brains out.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Scott’s focus on their conversation was shot. He kept thinking what it would be like to swipe the dishes from the table, bend Baxter over, and ram his dick into his mate’s ass.

  “I said, was there anything else we were doing today?”

  “Just breakfast.” Scott wanted to get Baxter home and…fuck. He needed to stop thinking what he would do to his mate’s body, how he wanted to lick every dip, and how good Baxter’s cock would taste shoved down his throat.

  Baxter might’ve thought that Scott was completely rejecting him last night. That was so far from the truth. He’d been thinking only about Baxter’s well-being, but damn if he didn’t want to devour the human.

  Scott was trying to think of other things to take his mind off screwing his mate. The bodyguard came to mind. Hadn’t Malik said he’d arrived? Scott didn’t even know the guy’s name, hadn’t seen hide or hair of him. Introductions would’ve been nice. When they got back home, he was gonna call Malik to figure out what was going on.

  After they were done and Scott paid the bill, they left. There was a strange vibe in the air outside the diner. Scott’s sixth sense felt it. Something was a bit…off.

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his lion was restless. Scott looked around, trying to access the danger, but everything seemed normal. There wasn’t any car gunning for them. No suspicious strangers on the street. It was a nice, sunny morning with a slight breeze.

  “What time is your friend coming over?” Baxter asked when they’d gotten into the truck. He looked guiltily at Scott. “Do you think he’ll let me help with the repairs?”

  Scott was zero percent mad at Baxter for his outburst. He knew kicking any kind of habit wasn’t easy, drugs most of all. The good thing, in his opinion, was that Baxter hadn’t been using that long. It had started nearly a month ago, and the chances of him getting and staying clean were better than if he’d been a long-time user.

  Scott could’ve been wrong, but he was being optimistic. He had to be because he couldn’t let his mate go down the same road as his father.

  “I’m pretty sure you’d be a great assistant, but I think we should leave the repairs to the professional.” Scott pulled from the slotted parking spot and head back to the house, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that ate at his gut.

  Scott was half expecting his house to be in flames when they returned, but it was still whole when they arrived, except for the guest bedroom window, which was stained black from the smoke.

  Russell Hughes’ truck was already in the driveway. Scott loved promptness. He wanted the damaged fixed and forgotten. But until the Black Pythons decided to stop coming after Baxter, it wouldn’t be forgotten.

  It definitely wouldn’t be forgiven. One of the three men had tried to kill Baxter by fire. That would never be forgiven.

  Chapter Seven

  “I can’t believe how perfect this is.” Baxter smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever camped out under the stars.”

  “It’s not technically camping,” Scott said. He reached down and scratched Coco’s head. The dog was curled up next to him.

  Scott was right. It wasn’t camping when they weren’t going to sleep outside. But Baxter loved how clear the sky was, how many stars he saw. Scott had even brought two logs from the woods for them to sit on. There was a fire in the middle, crackling, the sparks slowly descending upward.

  Baxter had a blanket wrapped around him, courtesy of Scott, who was seated on the other log next to him. If Baxter had ever doubted how platonic Scott wanted things to be between them, separate logs clinched it for him.

  Scott added another log to the fire. Next to him was a cooler. He opened it and handed Baxter a glass bottle of Coke. The night air was a bit nippy, but Baxter took it and cracked it open.

  “Should’ve brought the stuff out here to make hot chocolate.” Scott had his legs crossed in front of him, his bare feet near the fire. Baxter still couldn’t understand how he wasn’t freezing without any shoes on, but the guy seemed fine.

  “How about toasted marshmallows?” Baxter asked. “I saw a bag in the cupboard. We could find some skinny sticks.”

  “I like the way you think.” Scott winked and got up. “I’ll be right back.”

  Coco followed Scott to the house as Baxter gazed into the fire. It was mesmerizing, bringing him a comfort he never thought a fire could bring. He was so lost in the flames that he almost didn’t hear some twigs snapping close by.

  Baxter was instantly on alert, looking around. The backyard was vast, but beyond the yard was nothing but woods. He squinted, as though he would be able to see a dark outline in them, maybe some glowing eyes or something that would give the person away.

  If it was a person. Lots of animals lived in the woods. Small critters that were active at night. Baxter was letting his imagination get the better of him because those biker thugs were still out there somewhere and could be watching him at that very moment.

  “Are you trying to talk yourself into being terrified or out of it?” He tucked the blanket tighter against his body. “It’s just some wild animal. Nothing to be afraid of.”

  Besides, Baxter had the biggest and baddest animal with him. A lion. That trumped raccoons and possums any day.

  “Jumbo marshmallows,” Scott said when he returned. “I hope you can open your mouth wide enough.”

  If only you’d let me show you just how wide it can open. That quickly Baxter had forgotten about the glowing eyes of some imaginary shadow in the woods. Scott had even brought some metal skewer sticks with him, but Baxter was still thinking about his wide mouth and how Scott’s cock would fit right in.

  When Scott sat, it was on Baxter’s log. Their thighs touched, and Baxter was grateful he had a blanket to hide his flourishing erection. There was just something about being close to this hunky man who had Baxter’s thoughts going straight to the gutter.

  Scott handed him a stick. Their fingers brushed. Once again Baxter felt sparks flying, and not the ones in the fire. If Scott felt them, he wasn’t letting on. He was opening the bag and shoving the soft balls over the ends of the sticks.

  Soft balls. Gah! Baxter couldn’t seem to focus. Now he was thinking about Scott’s balls and how they would feel in his mouth.

  Baxter’s wide-open mouth.

  But it was more than sex he wanted with Scott. So much more. Baxter had never met a kinder soul, someone who put himself in danger for a guy he didn’t even know. Not really. Scott helped Baxter through some dark days and had saved him from the biker thugs, but what did he really know about Scott and what did Scott really know about him?

  Baxter’s reality had shifted tremendously because of his kidnapping and subsequent drug abuse but even more so since meeting Scott. And Baxter knew right there he was falling in love with the firefighter—a guy he hadn’t even slept with.

  How insane was that?

  When Baxter’s marshmallow was good and toasted, he made sure Scott was looking his way when he opened his mouth and took a bite. Sure enough, Scott’s eyes darkened and his jaw clenched.

  “This is delicious.” Baxter licked his lips, swiping at a piece of gooeyness that had settled on the side of his mouth. “You wanna try it?”

  He held the stick near Scott’s mouth. Baxter’s breath became shallow when Scott grabbed the stick and guided the treat to his lips, neither of them losing eye contact.

  “Bax.”

  “What?” Baxter looked away, unable to handle another sting of rejection. Scott had said they were mates. Not that Baxter fully understood what that meant, but Scott had told him that fate had made them for each other.

  So why in the hell was Scott keeping him at arm’s length? Was Baxter that unappealing, or was it the fact that he’d used drugs? Maybe Scott didn’t want to be wi
th an ex-junkie. Was Baxter a junkie? He really didn’t like that word.

  “I get it.” Baxter stood and let the blanket fall against the log. “It’s late, and I should get some sleep. I’ll take the couch tonight.”

  “Damn it.” Scott got to his feet and grabbed Baxter’s wrist, stopping him from running to the house. “You don’t get it.”

  Baxter yanked his wrist free and squared his shoulders. “What don’t I get? That you’re helping me out of the kindness of your heart but being with me repulses you?”

  Scott’s brows hiked to his hairline. “Is that what you think?”

  God, the bastard wanted Baxter to spell it out. Fine. “I’ve already told you that I wanted you, and you rejected me. And just now, with the marshmallow. We were clearly flirting, and once again, you’re turning me away. I can take a hint, Scott. Platonic friends. I get it.”

  Baxter was ready to stomp away or run from the embarrassment, but Scott grabbed him again. Only this time he pulled Baxter to his chest and circled his arms around him.

  “You don’t get it,” he repeated. “I want you so badly that I ache. But I also want to make sure you’re ready. I’ve said that before. You’re in a fragile state, and—”

  Baxter shoved at his chest, freeing himself. “Fuck you. I’m not fragile. I’ve endured a lot of crap in my life, and I’m still standing. In fact, I’m even stronger from my experiences. Screw you for thinking I’m made of glass.”

  Baxter took off at a run and slammed the patio door behind him. He was so angry that he wanted to slug someone. Fragile? Seriously? He might’ve gotten a little lost in life, and definitely had some demons he was trying to get past, but fragile?

  “Screw you!” he yelled at the glass door.

  He went to the living room and dropped onto the sofa, so mad tears prickled his eyes. Baxter wiped at them, angry that he was crying. He kicked off his shoes and curled up on the couch, grabbing the blanket off the back and tucking it around him.