by Jana Downs
Ryan visibly shuddered. “Good boy.”
Bradley relaxed back into the seat, and Ryan cranked the radio up to a mild roar, and the classic rock station was actually playing something decent for once. He smiled softly to himself. He was finally exactly where he needed to be.
* * * *
“Don’t forget to give Mustang the keys,” Ryan said, tossing the keys at the eager boy as he all but vibrated with the need to carry out his first task for his Dominant.
He caught them with his free hand. “Okay. Sorry.”
“Sorry what?” Ryan asked.
Bradley smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Sir.”
“Good boy. Hurry up.”
Bradley all but ran from the employees’ parking lot and up the steps into the shop. Ryan chuckled. He’d forgotten how exciting it was to newly discover the lifestyle and one’s orientation in it. Bradley was probably flying high right now, and Ryan hoped that he could live up to the high expectations that the submissive had.
Mac had been right in some ways. He didn’t need to keep Bradley at arm’s length in order to save himself from the intimacy of Bradley’s company. At the end of the night, Dom/sub relationships were about intimacy, and halfway engaging the human in play would only lead to Ryan hurting the kid. It was the last thing he wanted. He would let his guard down. Maybe, just maybe, he could walk away from the whole thing in the end with only a small scar to show for it instead of a gaping gash.
His cell phone started ringing in his pocket, and he sighed. He knew it wasn’t Regan because his brother usually gave him a mental heads-up before calling because he knew how much Ryan dreaded unknown phone calls. He frowned as he extricated the cell out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID.
“Hey, Dean, what’s up?” he asked as he engaged the talk button.
“I just got off the phone with Alpha, and he said to call you. I have some interesting news for you.” Dean Lison’s slow drawl came over the line loud and clear.
Ryan’s grip tightened. “So spill. What’s my new sub boy’s deal?”
“It’s not just your sub boy, but we’ll get to that. Your boy was the son of one Mr. Alexander Gage. The mother remarried when he was four, let Bradley keep his last name, but she took her new husband’s. Father had regular visitation until the boy was ten and then relocated to Scotland.
“Now here is the interesting bit, Alexander Gage was beta of the Black Mississippi pack but went MIA after a dispute with his Alpha that left four people dead in Jackson. He shows back up here and applies for admission into the Blackfoot pack with the old Alpha. Mustang’s dad grants a visitor’s pass but doesn’t let him in as a full member. He knocks up a local waitress, buys a two bedroom in South Fork, and settles illegally into the area.
“The old Alpha finds out, and there is a big showdown where, get this, Bradley is kidnapped by the old Alpha and spends something like two weeks on the Alpha’s lands as Gage negotiates the return of his son. The wife apparently gets pissed by the time she gets him back and dumps Alexander’s ass. The guy she marries is part of the pack, Ryan,” Dean said.
Ryan frowned, trying to process what Dean was telling him. “Wait, the old Alpha didn’t allow human-wolf pairings any more than Mustang did unless the human was turned. Only pack members could marry. Did he turn her?”
“That’s the thing. There is no record of her turning in the Circle archives. She was a born wolf, Ryan. I don’t know why Bradley isn’t pack. He’s a full-fledged wolf,” Dean said. The words hit Ryan like a freight train.
“Re?” Ryan asked through his mind link to his brother.
“What is it?”
“Keep Bradley in there for a minute.” Aloud he said, “How is that possible?”
He could almost hear Dean’s frustration when he next spoke. The man didn’t like not knowing things. It was one of the things that made Dean such a good PI. “I have a couple theories, but I honestly don’t know if I can give you a straight answer. I’m going to talk to my Circle contacts and see if I can get probable causes. In the meantime, I think it would be a good idea if you keep Bradley with you and yourself from being alone for now.”
Ryan’s brain churned with possibilities. “Why? Bradley and I just started his training. I don’t know if it’s a great idea to shove him so far up my ass he doesn’t see daylight. Plus I don’t want him to think something is up until I have answers to give him.”
“He’s not the only one stalking you.”
Ryan frowned. “What?”
“In my investigation, I also found someone besides Bradley has been tracking your movements. Wolf by the scent,” Dean said.
What, do I have a big sign around my neck that says “Stalk me! I’m loveable!”? “Why? I may be beta, but I’m nobody. I work at an ink shop and live with my brother in a split level.” He had no assets to speak of really. He lived just like everyone else.
“Old boyfriend maybe?” Dean asked.
“I don’t have boyfriends, Dean. You know that.” Except one. When he was sixteen. David wouldn’t come all the way back here for him though. Like Regan said, he was happily mated to someone else in another pack. “Why would you say boyfriend?”
Dean hesitated a second before he replied. “Because whoever it is broke into Bradley’s apartment and destroyed the place this morning. I heard the call go out on the radio and went to check it out. One of the patrol guys, Angel, told me about the damage. All his art was wrecked, the furniture and appliances were destroyed, and the windows were busted out. If you bring him back there, he won’t have anywhere to sleep.”
Ryan let out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This is a damn conspiracy. The world has gone crazy. Dean, find out who the fuck is following me around, will yah?”
“Will do, beta,” Dean agreed. “Just be careful in the meantime. I don’t want anyone getting hurt while I figure this out. If you were a normal guy, I’d say get a bodyguard or something, but as beta you can take care of yourself. You know the drill. Watch for suspicious activity and be aware of your surroundings.”
“I can do that. You going to tell the Alpha or should I?” Mustang was not going to be happy about this, but if anyone could figure out what his father’s old pack had been up to, it would be him. He’d torn it down and built it back up. It only made sense that he understood its fundamental structure beforehand. He wouldn’t tell Bradley until he had all the facts. The questions would drive the kid batty if all Ryan had to offer him was the bits and pieces Dean had found out. When he told him, he’d hand him the whole thing on a silver platter and be prepared to answer the follow up questions that would ensue.
“Already told him,” Dean said. “He told me to call you. Enjoy your new sub, Ryan. Be safe.”
“Yep. Talk to you later.” They hung up, and Ryan sighed. What was with people following him around? It made zero sense. “Re, send Bradley out to me. I have to tell him about his place.”
“He’ll be out in a minute. He’s playing artist with Grayson. Kid has some skills,” Regan said, a smile in his voice. “We could use him around the shop to do some of the art. Mustang could focus more on the paperwork we’ve got piled sky-high on his desk.” There were some pack members who disagreed with Mustang’s choice to welcome humans and turned wolves into their pack. The loudest of which was Alder, one of the pack Dominants who had been the greatest source of dissension when Grayson had been welcomed in as Alpha mate. The disciplinary forms had gotten really overwhelming as pack members bucked at the new laws and generally tried to cause Mustang additional headaches just to prove their point. Everything had to be filed with the Circle, their governing body. Coupled with the new conflict with the adjacent pack that supported the idea of separation, it had become more than a minor pack issue. Ever since the pack had had a showdown with that pack over Cian’s submissive, shit had hit the proverbial fan and Mustang was all but drowning in the paperwork that came with it.
“Don’t encourage him. I’m s
till not keeping him. Why is he playing artist with Grayson?” He couldn’t help the note of jealousy that laced his question. Mine. His wolf was all too ready to remind him about this instinctive need to claim the other man.
Regan snorted. “Because the Alpha mate has the right to keep submissive members of the pack content in any way he sees fit. He was having some trouble with the piece he’s doing for Dalia and her mate. You know the wolf language is hard to duplicate correctly. Anyway, your sub offered a hand, and they started talking. Nothing more. You need to check that attitude, bro. If Mustang hears you growl at his mate, he’ll let Grayson beat your ass.”
No truer words had been spoken. Mustang was big, but Grayson was massive. The fact that he was submissive only made him a very effective weapon to be used at Mustang’s sole discretion. Ryan pitied the man fool enough to go after Mustang or any of the submissive members of the pack. He didn’t think Mustang would really let Grayson beat him but it was a funny thought. He never thought he would have cause to fear a beating from the Alpha mate.
“Fine. Hurry him along then. I want to get him away from here and home. Did Mustang tell you what was going on?”
He felt his brother’s mental nod. “Yeah. That is such bullshit. I don’t get it. I’m every bit as attractive as you are, obviously. How do you warrant two stalkers and I get not a one?”
“Apparently you scare them with your strong adherence to and adoration of the ‘whips and chains’ bit of your S&M training,” Ryan said dryly. “Seriously, you have the heaviest hand in the pack.”
“Whatever. I’d rather be the hunter than the hunted anyway,” Regan rumbled. “He’s on his way out to you. Ry, be gentle. The kid has stars in his eyes.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Ryan said automatically. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate that his brother was protective of his mat—sub. Shit. I have to stop thinking like that. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate his brother being protective of the boy, but call it sibling rivalry or possessiveness, he ruffled at the thought of Regan protecting Bradley from Ryan.
Their conversation was interrupted by Bradley coming out of the door of the shop. Ryan smiled and tried to think of how to tell Bradley about what had happened. How was he supposed to “gently” tell the man that all his things were ruined and he couldn’t go back to his place even if he wanted to?
“So what now, Sir? Are you going to tell me my rules?” Bradley cut in before Ryan had a chance to formulate the best way to break the news. He crossed the lot to a shiny black motorcycle. The sub must’ve driven it here. “If I’m going to follow you, will you save me from a heart attack and wear the helmet I got you?” Bradley asked, seeing the direction of his gaze. It was cold. He should get him out of the cold before he told him.
“Sure. I’ll wear it for you. The first three rules are simple. First, from now on your cock is off-limits. It belongs to me, and because of that I get to decide whether or not to let you have the release you keep teasing me with.” Ryan watched his reaction, carefully noting how the would-be sub responded to his mandate. The fine shudder than ran down Bradley’s frame was a good sign. The hardening shaft pressing against the material of his overalls wasn’t a bad one either.
“Yes, Sir.” The sharp “S” went right to Ryan’s arousal, curling around his balls and squeezing a responsive growl from him. Mine.
“Secondly, for my sanity, you are to check in with me every morning by nine a.m. and every night by nine p.m. It’s a safety thing, and it’s a way for us to have scheduled talks throughout the day just to touch base.” He enjoyed those moments with a sub. It had been one of the first tools he learned to use from his mentor, Trace, when he was a pup and had started training to become a Dominant. He hadn’t used it in years of course, but it gave him a sense of peace that he could do so now.
“Definitely doable, Sir. Your number is already programmed.” He just bet it was. Ryan just wanted to shake his head and laugh at Bradley’s audacity. The man had no qualms with using any means necessary to make his interest known.
“Lastly, you will send me a e-mail itinerary of your day so I won’t be calling you in the middle of class or while you’re at work and worry when I don’t get an answer,” Ryan finished. He had been honest. They were simple starter rules, things that even the most novice of submissives should’ve been able to accomplish.
“All right, Sir. I can do that as well.” Bradley beamed at him, looking as pleased as punch at the prospect of obeying him. While he’d been denying the fact that he was going to train Bradley, Ryan had missed the definite shimmer of submission that shone out clearly from Bradley’s eyes. He might’ve been a sub, but he wasn’t timid and he had no qualms with asking for what he wanted. The quality was intoxicating.
Ryan nodded, satisfied. “Good. Follow me over to my place and I’ll let you go through the treasure chest and pick out things you want to try. We might even do a brief scene if you’re up to it.”
“May I go home and change clothes first?” Bradley asked. “I need to grab my sketch pad as well. If I’m going to be at your house for a while, I’ll have to work on homework.”
Ryan hesitated. Shit. This was not how he had planned on this conversation going. “How about we go to my house for a bit, and we’ll go back to your place together?”
Bradley gave him a weird look. “Seriously? You have been jumpy as hell and all too eager to get me out of your sight with the exception of one blow job. What gives? You look like you swallowed something sour.”
Ryan shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “I told you at the restaurant that I’m in. Do you want to my sub or not? Here and now is when you decide.” Manipulative prick. That was the mildest thing he could’ve called himself for pulling that card. It went against every bit of training he had. Buffering a sub’s feelings with physical touch and comfort was one thing. Making them wait on information when necessary was another responsibility of being a Dom, but deliberately playing on Bradley’s fear that Ryan would bolt at any time? That was fucked up.
“No, no,” Bradley protested, his eyes widening just like Ryan had calculated they would. “I’m sorry, Sir. We’ll go to your place first.” You going to train him to obey a Dom blindly? This isn’t just about your comfort, asshole. The voice sounded suspiciously like his conscience. He deserves better. “Let me get my bike.”
“Wait, Bradley,” Ryan said before he could stop himself. Bradley trembled, looking like he was terrified to have screwed up so soon. It just made Ryan feel worse. “I was being an asshole and preying on your insecurities. I meant what I said, I am all in. If you want to change the game plan for things like this, that isn’t a problem as long as we’re talking about it. No one, including me, has the right to manipulate your emotions to get a certain reaction. Your desires to go to your place or to ask questions of my motives are perfectly legitimate. There will be times when I ask you to do things blindly but always for a good reason. This isn’t one of those times. I was stalling for time.”
“What are you talking about?” Bradley asked, looking beyond confused.
Ryan’s gaze wandered across the light-gray asphalt and to the tree that stood as the last remaining bit of nature on the otherwise urban street. Mustang had refused to take it down and had it trimmed back every year so that the city wouldn’t cite them for it. He had said that they couldn’t throw all instincts away with the modern age but instead had to preserve the base of their morality and their adherence to the natural. He was being metaphorical, but he had been right. He couldn’t deny his instincts as a Dom or as a wolf in this situation. His gut told him he had to be honest with the man who so willingly gave him his submission.
“I was uncomfortable telling you this information until we were on my home turf, but I can’t take you home and do a scene with you without telling you first. There is someone besides you who has been following me around.”
Bradley frowned. “So? You’re mine. They can fuck off.”
Ryan sighed. “The fac
t that this person is being a creeper isn’t the issue, Bradley. He or she apparently found out that you are under my protection and are training with me. They wrecked your place. I spoke with our pack private investigator a second ago, and he seems to think that the place is pretty trashed.”
Bradley visibly paled, and Ryan stepped forward in case the other man did some 1920s heroine move and fainted. “My art?” Bradley asked. “What about my art?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure what’s left, sweet.”
“We have to go. We have to go right now.” Bradley looked like he was about three seconds away from having a mental breakdown.
“Shh, we’ll go together. I’ll drive you on my bike. Do you have a friend you can stay with for a few days?” If he had to stand guard outside camped out like a homeless person, he would to ensure that his sub was safe.
Bradley’s lower lip started to tremble. “I can’t stay with you?”
Ryan wrapped his arms around the distressed man and pulled him into the shelter of his chest. “Of course you can. I just didn’t want to assume you wanted to.” What had he done to deserve this wonderful gift of a submissive? There was so much trust, so much faith, that Bradley put in Ryan. He was utterly humbled by that blind faith.
Bradley surprised him by popping him in the stomach with his fist. Ryan winced and rubbed the offended area. “Ouch,” he growled.
“Of course I want to. You’re my mate,” Bradley said, glaring with his eyes full of unshed tears. “Stop being stubborn and admit it already.”
Ryan’s eyes shot wide. Just when he decided that Bradley was too soft, too innocent, something would raise his ire and he would display in no uncertain terms his stubborn dedication to whatever he was talking about, and the reaction was never damn well predictable. “You’re a little asshole. You know this?”
“One of my better qualities, I’m told.” Bradley sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He was doing a good job of putting on a brave face even if it was unnecessary. “You don’t think they wrecked everything do you?” There was the sweet sub that had asked to stay with him. Boy was giving him whiplash.
