by Alex Jane
When he had taken the Alpha to bed, mere hours before, they hadn't continued what they had started. At least not beyond the deep kisses and reassuring tender touches that had seen them falling asleep in each other's arms. It was enough they could simply lie together, naked, pressed from ankle to cheek, soaking in the other's heat and heartbeat as they drifted off. Emmanuel thought he hadn't slept so well in, perhaps forever, as he had knowing Asher was beside him.
When he yawned, the immediate kiss that was placed at the tender point beneath his ear told him Asher had been awake a while. It felt unnecessary to wish him good morning so he settled on covering the hand that was splayed over his heart with his own and pressing it closer still.
Asher kissed him again. "We should talk," he said, his voice all gravel and mumbling given his reluctance to move his lips from Emmanuel's skin.
Emmanuel only groaned a little, not sure he really wanted to hear what Asher had to say. "If you're hoping to throw me out, I have to remind you that this is my house."
Asher huffed out a laugh, and the next kiss came with a scrape of teeth across his shoulder. "I just…I mean—"
"Are you asking me my intentions? Now I've deflowered you?"
Emmanuel smiled at the way Asher pulled away slightly and the hue of indignation in his voice when he said, "Excuse me. I think I was the one doing the deflowering."
Grunting, Emmanuel pushed his hips back to find Asher hard and getting more so by the second. "I wouldn't mind a bit of deflowering this morning but…" He sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I guess we should talk." When all that happened was Asher resting his forehead between his shoulder blades, he let go of Asher's hand and patted him on the thigh. "Come on, man. Talk."
"Is this…is this a one-time thing?"
Emmanuel wanted to laugh. "Only if we don't do it again."
"Manny," Asher growled. "Does that mean you don't want to?"
Rather than answer, Emmanuel dragged Asher's hand from his heart down to wrap around his erection that was straining forward. He gasped when Asher gripped him tight and swept his thumb over his wet slit. That seemed to gratify Asher as Emmanuel felt his lips curl into a smile against his skin when Asher started to jerk him slow and whispered in his ear, "When I said talk, this wasn't what I meant, you know."
Pressing his hips back, Emmanuel reached his hand behind him and teasingly spread his cheeks, whispering, "I'm sorry. I can't hear you over the sound of you not fucking me."
It took a while, and an awful lot of spit, before Asher finally pushed inside him and took him to the hilt. Fucking was a little painful and awkward, and Asher's hands shook as if it was his first time, but Emmanuel took his cock and the weight of the Alpha on his back and almost blurted out that he loved Asher when his orgasm coursed through him like wildfire, his spend dampening the sheet beneath him, slicking his final few thrusts against the cotton. And Asher appeared no better off, mumbling and cursing as he fucked Emmanuel intently, his thrusts erratic and his teeth scraping Emmanuel's throat in a cruel parody of the mating bite before he came, grunting and gasping and rasping out, "Oh god, oh god," over and over.
When they were done, Asher rolled off him and pulled him back against his chest, as they had been when they had woken up. Emmanuel realized he still hadn't seen his lover's face that morning, when Asher asked, slightly breathless, "So. Can you hear me now?" Emmanuel chuckled and nodded but when he went to turn to look at him, Asher held him fast, his face pressed against the nape of Emmanuel's neck, and asked again, his voice filled with anxiety, "Is…is this a one-time thing?"
The words were too serious, too laden with expectation, Emmanuel didn't know what to say. He was frozen in place and only when he felt Asher start to pull away did he find the wit to shake his head and croak out, "I don't want it to be." From the sigh of relief that came from behind him, it wasn't too much but then of course he had to complicate things. "But I don't…I don't know what I want, Ash. I don't know…anything. I'm so messed up. In my head, I-I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing or feeling or…I was supposed to be alone here but…"
"Do you want me to go?"
The question hit him like a bucket of cold water. Emmanuel twisted in Asher's arms, and he found himself struck, as he was every time, by Asher's impossible beauty, and he held him tight, burrowing into him as best he could. "No. No, I…I just don't know who I am right now and who I can be for you…"
"It's all right," Asher whispered, kissing him over and over, drawing him in as if he was pulling him up from the icy depths. "I'll stay. I'll stay with you until you know."
It was less awkward than he thought it would be, getting dressed with Asher in the room, knowing what they had done together couldn't be taken back and had likely changed things between them forever. Emmanuel found he couldn't regret the night though, and as much as he blushed when he saw the mess they'd made of his bed and winced when he felt the bruises on his body from where Asher had held him so tightly, their connection felt right somehow. New, but right.
Asher, of course, was doing his best to look unfazed and failed miserably at it. It looked for all the world as if he was afraid to take his eyes off Emmanuel, to the point where Emmanuel sighed deeply as he tucked his shirt into his pants. "What."
Asher shrugged and gestured vaguely toward him. "You've got a little something…"
Emmanuel frowned. "Where?" He brushed at his shoulder.
"Just there," Asher said, pointing at his neck. Emmanuel wiped at his skin again, but Asher shook his head and came closer. The ruse should have been obvious, but it wasn't, not until Asher smirked as he leaned in, slipping his arms around Emmanuel's waist and kissing his neck, that Emmanuel realized what he was doing.
He laughed and half-heartedly tried to squirm away, until Asher pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Is this all right?" he asked and all Emmanuel could do was nod, struck dumb by the intensity of Asher's gaze.
Then he smiled and pecked Asher on the lips, saying, "Ephraim will catch us if we leave him alone much longer. He'll be wanting coffee."
It wasn't a dismissal and thankfully Asher didn't take it as one. Although, he did raise an eyebrow. "He's going to know. Your uncle isn't stupid."
"Yeah, well," Emmanuel muttered as he pulled on his boots. "It's one thing getting sniffed out and quite another him getting an eyeful. And my parents will be here in the next few days and I don't want him describing parts of your anatomy in detail to my mother."
"He wouldn't." Asher looked scandalized.
Emmanuel laughed. "Oh, he most certainly would. She'd probably insist on it."
The coffee got made and they went about their breakfast in much the same way as they would have done any other morning. Except maybe their eyes lingered a little longer and the smiles they exchanged were charged with the sense memories of the night before, now they knew how their hands felt on each other and the sounds they made in their most private place.
They took food and coffee for the three of them out to the stable to find Ephraim only just stirring from where he'd dragged the pallet out from the stable hand's room into the walkway where he could keep an eye on Smoke and her little one. He didn't say a word when Emmanuel handed him a mug and filled it to the brim from the pot, or when he sat down next to him, watching as Asher leaned into the stall, murmuring quiet praise when Smoke came to him looking for apples and a rub on the nose.
"Everything all right?" Ephraim asked quietly once Asher was otherwise occupied.
Emmanuel smiled and jutted his chin at the horses "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah," Emmanuel said, looking down at the coffee in his hands. "Yeah, I know. I'm good."
He expected more, an interrogation maybe, but all he got was a pat on the knee before Ephraim turned his attention to giving Asher a report of how his night had gone and the lack of drama after the two of them had left.
"You're gonna have to n
ame him," Ephraim said finally, before sinking his teeth into the apple bread Emmanuel had brought him.
"Something that's not going to make my mother twitch preferably," Emmanuel added.
Asher smiled, sending Emmanuel a look that had his heart pounding. "I thought, Shadow? I know he's not true black but if he grows into this coat…"
"I like it." Ephraim nodded. "Good to see horses here again. Caleb and Jacob would be pleased. It's been empty too long." Getting to his feet, he groaned. "I'm definitely too old to be sleeping on that old thing. Next time one of you boys will have to take the night shift. I better get back up and make sure Joshua is up. He'll find any excuse to lay about all day if I don't nag him."
"Funny," Emmanuel said, walking his uncle to the stable door. "He says the exact same thing about you."
Ephraim laughed and cuffed him on the shoulder, waved to Asher, and was gone.
"Next time?" Asher said when Emmanuel joined him at the stall. It seemed far-fetched, but looking down at the sprawling legs and tuffs of mane prancing around his mother's legs, Emmanuel could only shrug and say, "Sure. Why not?"
They didn't talk much—not about what had happened between them—that morning. Asher said he had some things to take care of in town before noon and headed out early. Emmanuel had to run a couple of errands himself but not until he was done with his chores. So, once the milking was finished and the chickens were happily clucking about the yard, Emmanuel borrowed the trap from his uncles and headed to the post office in Lastford.
As much as the ride was bumpy and made his ass ache, it was pleasing too, giving him a chance to reacquaint himself with all the places Asher had touched him. He was pretty sure he had some bruises coming and, too late, he wondered if he had a rash from Asher's stubble on his neck. He was musing whether he could pass off any redness as razor burn as he rumbled over the bridge, when he was drawn from his thoughts by angry shouting. At first, he wasn't sure where the sound of the altercation was coming from, but when he realized it was from the Feed and Seed, he clipped the horse on and arrived ready to leap from his seat.
It was kind of astonishing to see sweet, smiling Jonathon with a face like thunder and a rifle held tight at his waist, pointing it at two burly men who looked ready to charge him and damn the consequences. Emmanuel had no idea who the man lying in the dirt behind Jonathon was, but it was clear from the way he was cradling his jaw and that Jonathon was defending him and the two children who were huddled against the side of the building.
Pulling in behind, Emmanuel didn't jump down but moved relatively quickly. He didn't want to give any reason for Jonathon to lose his concentration and accidentally shoot anyone, especially him. He wasn't afraid to fight either. The two men were big but not wolves as far as Emmanuel could tell. And given he had two older siblings who were, and who'd been tackling him as if he was unbreakable since he was a toddler, taking a punch or two wasn't beyond his experience.
"Everything all right, Jon?" He tried to keep his voice calm but firm and thought he did a pretty good job as he was mildly breathless from the adrenaline coursing through his body.
"It's under control," Jonathon replied. His tone was measured but Emmanuel could tell he was furious. "These gentlemen were just leaving."
One of the men barked out a laugh. "You can't tell us what to do, you glorified shop boy."
"Well, then," Emmanuel said, stepping forward beyond the barrel of Jonathon's gun. "How about I do it?"
"And who the fuck are you?"
Emmanuel smiled. "Manny Jackson. Pleased to meet you. Now get the fuck off my property."
The two men didn't flinch or move a muscle, and for a second, Emmanuel thought he might actually have to fight, until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Asher and the sheriff walking toward them.
Or rather he saw the marshal and sheriff, being that Asher had changed and was wearing his shield proudly on his chest. He wore no gun belt, but the sheriff was compensating with a pistol on each hip and a rifle in his hands.
Asher stifled a smile and tipped his hat. "Mr. Jackson, Mr. Fletcher. Is there a problem?"
"This is the third time, Asher," Jonathon yelled. "I swear to god if you can't keep them away from here I'll—"
Asher held up his hand and turned to the two men. "You heard the man. You're trespassing. He's well within his rights to shoot you where you stand."
"He can't do that. He don't own the sidewalk."
"No," Emmanuel said, cutting off whatever Asher was going to add. "But I do. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'd be within my rights to have you thrown out of town altogether."
"You can't do that—"
Something about his tone had Emmanuel's blood heating and he took a step forward. "You wanna fucking try me?"
Asher's hand landed on his chest, not pushing, but not letting him advance. Though when Emmanuel glanced at him, Asher only rolled his eyes before he muttered, "Hot head," and turned back to the two men who looked decidedly less sure. "I'm sick of coming over here and finding you two causing problems. It's boring. You bore me. Next time I'm going to let Mr. Fletcher shoot you, and your boss can come clean up the mess. Go home, gentlemen, if you know what's good for you."
There was some glaring and a little grumbling, and not least some pointed looks toward the man lying on the ground, but the two men left with little fuss. As soon as they were out of the yard, Jonathon slumped forward, almost doubling over, leaning heavily on his rifle. Emmanuel rushed over and set his hands on Jonathon's shoulders. "Are you all right? What the hell was that about?"
Jonathon looked up at him, smiling and shaking his head. "You wanna try me? Really?" He laughed. "Did you see the size of them? Those two could have killed us."
"Yeah, well.” Emmanuel patted him on the back. “You're not a bad shot. I figure we could have taken at least one of them between us if you missed both."
"I'm a terrible shot." Jonathon stood up and cracked the gun, revealing the two empty barrels. "Which is why this isn't loaded."
Emmanuel sucked in a breath and held it, before slapping his cousin on the shoulder. "Oh, I wish you hadn't have told me that, Jon." He started to walk away but added, "And get some shells in the gun, for god's sake. I don't care what kind of a shot you are."
The man Asher had helped off the ground had his two children in his arms, holding them tightly as they buried their faces in his neck. There was a bruise on his chin and his lip was split, and he looked shell-shocked. "They told me I had another week," he was saying. "They were waiting for me. I…my kids…I just…"
Asher nodded as if he understood completely. "You wanna press charges?" he asked but looked unsurprised and rather weary with it when the man shook his head. "All right. I'm going to ask the sheriff to take you home just to be on the safe side." He cut off the man with a look when it appeared as if he was about to protest. "It'll make the kids feel safer, all right?"
The two of them watched the man walk away. Emmanuel nodded to the sheriff, who looked horribly out of his depth but determined as he nodded back and helped the trio onto their wagon.
Emmanuel turned back to Asher. "You wanna tell me what the hell is really going on here?" He knew the confrontation wasn't Asher's fault, but he couldn't help the way his shock and bemusement translated to anger in his voice.
Asher nodded. "Yeah, I guess I should. Not here, though."
Jonathon passed them, saying, "Come to the office. I need a whiskey." And neither man seemed to want to deny it wasn't the best idea they'd heard all afternoon.
The office at the back of the Feed and Seed hadn't changed at all since Emmanuel was a boy, when he used to sit in the big leather chairs, sucking on the hard candy his Grandpa Henry would give him while he and his dad talked business. Which had sounded a lot like his pa saying whatever he'd thought his grandfather wanted to hear so he could get out of there, which had been obvious to Emmanuel even though he couldn't have been aged more than ten at the time. The place was smart and tidy,
the old dark wood desk still in the same spot, probably as it was too heavy for anyone to move it, the same neat cabinets for ledgers and papers, and the old strongbox, looking dark and imposing in the corner.
Clearly, the whiskey hadn't changed either, being that Jonathon pulled a bottle of the same brand out of the same drawer his grandpa had always kept it in, along with three glasses.
"Don't tell Pa I'm drinking his good stuff," he said, the tremor in his hand making the liquid splash a little as he poured, though he didn't spill a drop, to his credit.
"I think he might forgive you this once," Asher mumbled, taking one of the glasses, downing the contents, and then holding it out for a refill.
Emmanuel wasn't in quite so much of a hurry. He slid one of the glasses from the table and retreated to the plush leather chair under the barred window. He marveled for a minute at how his feet touched the floor now and how the room looked something like a dolls house might, given that all his memories had it being so much bigger than the space he found himself in.
"Which one of you wants to start?" he asked, though he was looking at his drink when the words came, not much wanting to show quite how badly he was affected to the other two.
Surprisingly, it was Jonathon who answered. "You want the big picture or what just happened?"
"Let's start with who the hell those two assholes were and see how much I can cope with from there."
Jonathon huffed out a laugh. "In that case…Woods and Klein. Not just assholes but employees of First Provincial." When Emmanuel raised his eyebrow at him, completely taken by surprise, Jonathon smirked and tipped his glass at him as if to say, aren't you glad you asked?
