Welsh Wolves 1: Let Sleeping Wolves Lie

by Tielle St Clare

  Considering the wife had killed her husband and hacked up his body in the living room…the Realtor was finding it a hard sell.

  But if someone had recently driven this way, that might mean someone was interested. Micah would want to know about this. He’d considered buying both properties, but between the four of them, the house and the bar were all they could swing.

  Dex loped toward the neighboring farm, keeping plenty of distance between him and the potential buyer. Wolves in the area tended to make property values drop.

  But because he couldn’t get close, there was no way to see who was looking at the property.

  Dex guided his wolf away. He didn’t know who but at least he could report back to Micah that someone was looking at the land next door.

  And damn if Micah hadn’t been right. The run had allowed him to clear his mind. The wolf was much more interested in the scents and sounds of nature. He wasn’t thinking about his mate.

  Much.

  He jogged back to his starting point and willed the wolf to retreat, letting the human form return.

  He groaned as he stood. It really did hurt. Every time he changed.

  But the freedom of the wolf was worth it.

  Until he had to walk, then every muscle in his body hurt.

  Dex dragged on his jeans, draped his shirt over his back and headed toward the house.

  Reese looked up as Dex entered the kitchen.

  “Have a nice run?”

  “Yeah, actually.” He tipped his head toward the left…the far left. “The Realtor was showing someone that property next door.”

  Reese’s eyes glowed for a second. “Micah will want to hear about that.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Oh, and…” This time Reese looked down, his lips curled up in a smile. “Your phone rang while you were out.”

  Dex froze then bolted into the dining room. His phone sat where he’d left it. One Missed Call.

  Fingers trembling, he hit the voicemail and held the phone to his ear, almost coming when Maddock’s voice flowed through the line.

  “Hey, uhm, it’s really not necessary, but if you wanted to buy me that drink, I’ll be in the area tonight. I’ll try to stop by.”

  “Well?” Reese asked from the doorway.

  “He’s coming by tonight.”

  Reese smiled. “Then you’d better go shower. You smell like wolf.”

  Dex whooped and ran for the stairs. Fuck, he was going to have to jack off in the shower if he was going to see his mate tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Maddock stepped into the pub and did a quick survey of the space. It had been almost a week since the kid had dumped wine on him and had offered to pay for it. Maddock fingered the business card in his pocket. He’d called today to say he was coming by, but it was just for a drink.

  There was no way the kid could afford the cleaning bill on one of Maddock’s suits. Not if he worked in a place like this.

  Maybe he could take it out in trade. His overactive mind calculated how many fucks he could get for a four-thousand dollar suit. Damn, the kid would be tied to his bed for months—tight ass pinked and well-fucked.

  Maddock gave himself a shake, trying to clear the image before it could take up permanent residence in his brain.

  The morning after the wine incident—after his irritation and embarrassment had fled—Maddock remembered the kid’s smile. And the sincere horror at having drenched Maddock.

  If he’d been in a better mood, he might have laughed it off. Except he didn’t laugh at much these days.

  Still, it had been an accident and the kid had been honest in his apology.

  That next morning, Maddock had called the cell number and left a message, telling “Dex” he didn't need to worry about the suit. That should have ended it, except Dex had called him the next day.

  Dex offered again to clean or replace the suit, but Maddock declined. He should have gotten off the phone then, but the strangest thing happened—he’d gotten hard. Just from talking to the guy. Something about the kid's voice made his cock swell. He'd been tempted to keep Dex on the phone, let him talk while Maddock stroked off, but just the fact that he had that urge—while at the office—told him something was seriously wrong.

  Despite all the reports and articles in women’s magazines about how often men thought about sex and how they fantasized at work, Maddock didn't think about sex at the office. He thought about work at the office. And at home. He really only thought about sex when he was fucking.

  And when talking to Dex, it appeared.

  By the end of the conversation, Maddock had agreed to come back to the pub and let Dex buy him a drink as repayment.

  The wisest choice was to drop it and move on. Stay the hell away from the guy whose voice made him think of things he shouldn't be thinking about—Dex, bent over his bed, tight, firm ass, pink from Maddock's hand. Lubed up and ready to be fucked.

  There was no escaping that particular fantasy. It had stalked him for the past five days, appearing in his mind at the strangest times—like the staff meeting when Monica had announced they were “pounding” the competition. Fuck. He’d thought of pounding of a different kind. Dex’s smile—hungry instead of welcoming—instantly came to mind, blurring his grasp on reality and leaving Maddock with the image of Dex, on his back, knees at his ears and fuck, it was happening again.

  He’d managed to hide his erection from the staff, but every day the challenge grew worse.

  Knowing he should stay the hell away, knowing he didn't need to see Dex again because he didn't need to soothe some kid's guilt…why the fuck was he there, standing in the tiny bar looking for the clumsy waiter with the tight little ass?

  That round ass was the problem. When he'd seen Dex, draped over his lap, it brought to mind all sorts of wicked ideas. Things he hadn't thought about in years, things he hadn't let himself think about.

  When he’d made the decision to move out of construction and into property development, he’d picked a successful future over his natural tendencies. He couldn't spend his nights with a sweet little sub tied to his bed.

  No matter how discreet you were, in this time of Internet and cell phones, someone always found out.

  Politicians hadn’t quite figured this out. They always seemed to believe they could get away with it.

  Maddock knew better. He'd made the decision to back away from his dominant urges and find a nice safe woman to marry. It had taken him years to find an appropriate woman. Monica met all his requirements—good background, solid business contacts and a body that he could fuck if he put his mind to it.

  He wasn't going to screw it up by fucking some kid just because he'd thrown himself across Maddock's lap. Monica had laughed about the “accident” on the way home, but Maddock wasn't fooled. That had been deliberate.

  The nerves at the back of Maddock’s neck tingled.

  It felt like a setup, but he couldn't figure out the goal. He'd done his research on the bar. New business. Not much chance for long-term success in a remote location like this, but they could probably keep it going for a few years.

  Maybe they’d figured out a way to scam money to keep the place afloat.

  For the first couple of days he'd expected a call or an email saying they had a picture of him with a cute blond over his lap. It wouldn't make a bad blackmail scheme, but there was no way for them to know who he was.

  None of it made sense and that was why he was back.

  Well, that and the kid's ass.

  He rubbed his thumb across his fingers, imagining the burn in his palm as he turned that round butt bright red. Or Dex screaming as Maddock pounded his cock into him. Dex looked like the type who got loud when he fucked.

  Maddock missed loud fucks. Most of his women were the quiet, “moan and pant”-type lovers. All well and good, but sometimes a man just wanted to hear a scream.

  Hear someone beg him for more.

  Or beg him to stop.

&n
bsp; He gave himself a mental shake. He wasn't going there. He'd made his decision years ago and nothing was going to shake that resolve. He was too close to getting everything he wanted.

  Finally meeting up with the Realtor, he’d seen the property and knew they had to have it. It put in back in the vicinity of the bar so it wasn’t a big deal for him to stop by, let Dex assuage his guilt with a drink. It wasn’t like Maddock was driving all the way out here just to see the kid.

  The thought reassured his own trouble mind.

  He strolled into the bar, a plan forming as he sat down in a corner booth. He didn't usually sit in booths. His legs were too long to make it comfortable, but this seat gave him a view of the whole bar.

  He would wait until the cute little waiter came by for his order. He'd get his free drink and then walk away. That would ease the kid's conscience and Maddock could forget about this place. Besides, if there was something hinky going on, they'd have to make their move soon.

  The room was about half full when he sat down. The same guy was behind the bar—still wearing the glasses. He had to be able to see. There was no way he could move so easily if he was really blind.

  Maddock let his gaze drift around the room. The Welsh and American flags hung in the corner. The sight drew him out of his thoughts for a moment. What had the kid said when he'd ordered a Guinness? They were a Welsh pub? That was definitely the Welsh dragon on that flag.

  Beneath the flags, the same big guy sat at the corner of the bar. The grim set on his face warned that he was not someone to mess with unless you wanted your ass handed to you.

  Not much intimidated Maddock, but he didn't think he'd want to tangle with this guy. Maybe it wasn't intimidation so much as wisdom. The smart choice was to leave the junkyard dog alone.

  From the open door behind the bar, a blonde woman walked out. She had a towel draped over her arm and an apron wrapped around her waist. It took Maddock a moment to realize she was pregnant. She smiled at the “blind” bartender, then walked around the end of the bar, heading toward Maddock.

  She tossed a napkin on the table. “What can I get you?”

  “Beer. Whatever you have on tap.” Normally he was pickier about his beer, but he wasn't really here for the drink. He was here to put some closure to this situation.

  “We serve it warm, is that okay?”

  He blinked and remembered the dark, black beer he'd had the other night. “Uh, sure.” He leaned in and for some reason felt like he needed to lower his voice. “I'm actually here to see Dex.”

  The woman's eyes widened. “Oh, you're him. Of course. I missed the other night when he poured the wine all over you.” She smiled and winked. “That must have been a bitch to clean up.”

  “Speaking of bitch—” A teasing male voice interrupted. “Are you going to get the man his drink or not?”

  The waitress straightened and spun around. “You're one to talk about being a bitch.” She bumped hips with Dex. “I'll get your drink.”

  “It's on the house,” Dex said.

  She chuckled. “Like I didn't know that.” She winked at Maddock. “Family and friends discount, huh?”

  He winced. He wasn't either.

  Dex slipped into the seat across from him. “Hi.”

  The cautious look on Dex's face tugged at Maddock’s heart. He rubbed his fingers against his breastbone, trying to ease the sudden ache. This was a casual meeting, repayment for destroying a four thousand dollar suit. That's all.

  So why the fuck did it feel like a first date? An awkward first date.

  “Obviously I'm Dex.” Dex offered his hand across the table. Maddock took it. His fingers were long and slim. And would look perfect wrapped around my dick.

  The thought jolted him. He gave Dex’s hand a perfunctory shake then released it. Unfortunately the image lingered.

  “Maddock.”

  “Thanks for coming out.”

  “No problem. I—”

  The waitress appeared with his beer and set the pale liquid on the table before walking away, though not before she gave him another wink.

  “You didn't care for the black the other night. You might like this better.” Dex shrugged and almost looked like he was blushing. “It's a little more American.”

  Maddock took a sip and nodded. It was more like what he was used to. Warm, but he could handle that.

  “So, I wanted to apologize again and say I'd really like to get the suit cleaned.”

  Maddock shook his head and drank from his glass. “It's done and don't worry about the suit.” He couldn't tell the kid that he'd ruined an expensive suit. Dex looked a little too tightly wound tonight.

  “If there's anything I could do to—” Dex jumped and then leaned back, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He glanced at the screen. “Oops, got orders waiting at the bar.” He slid out of the booth. “Listen, can you hang around for a bit?” The kid leaned down and Maddock found himself enveloped in the most delicious scent—sweet and spicy. He licked his lips, wanting that flavor on his tongue. “I'm on break in about thirty minutes and I'd really like to talk to you, maybe explain a bit?”

  Dex left the sentence hanging. For the life of him, Maddock couldn't figure out why he agreed, but he found himself nodding. Dex's mouth spread into a shy smile and something in Maddock's chest did a little flip.

  “I’ll be back.”

  Dex straightened and walked away.

  Maddock tried, he really tried, but he couldn't stop watching Dex's ass as he headed back to the bar. Damn, what was wrong with him?

  He wasn't interested in Dex sexually. He was practically on the verge of maybe getting engaged to Monica. And he sure as hell wasn't interested in guys. A few exploratory encounters in college didn't count.

  His foot tapped on the floor, expelling some of the energy surging through his veins. He took a deep breath and tried to stop the strange twitching. Damn, he felt like he’d been shot through with electricity.

  He pulled out his phone and opened his email. He could sit here and work just as well as at the office. They didn't have wireless, but the cell service worked well enough.

  The first email was from Monica, followed by another. He started flipping through the messages, typing a quick reply. His gaze tripped over to Dex, carrying a tray of drinks to a table of men. They looked like the same guys who'd been here the other day. Sort of made sense. It was about the same time.

  These guys must be regulars.

  Dex flashed the whole table a smile. The one closest to him raised his hand and patted Dex's hip, getting dangerously close to his ass.

  Maddock's gums tingled and the muscles along his jaw clenched. The base of his throat tightened. Conflicting sensations crowded his brain. And he had the strangest urge to growl.

  He ran his tongue over the rough edges of his teeth. The lightest touch sent shockwaves into his jaw. Fuck, when was the last time he’d been to the dentist?

  Laughter he instantly recognized as Dex grabbed his attention. He watched as Dex spun away from the table and headed back to the bar.

  The strange sensations in his teeth faded as Dex moved away from that table, but the strain at the base of his neck remained.

  Maddock rolled his shoulders back but couldn’t release the tension. Forcing his eyes to focus, he stared at the half-typed message on his phone and realized he didn’t understand what he’d written. How the hell would anyone else? He re-read the original note, remembered his reply and jumped back in to tapping on the screen.

  But the swish of a tight ass encased in black denim fluttered at the edge of his sight and he looked up. Dex was back at that table, handing out drinks, bending over to place a pitcher of beer in the center.

  The guy with the wandering hands put his fingers on Dex's arm, drawing him down to whisper something in his ear. Dex bent down and listened.

  He's probably just asking for directions to the bathroom.

  Right.

  The movements were subtle, keeping Dex
close, the teasing glow in the guy’s eyes.

  Dex leaned closer. He tipped his head to the side at something the guy said, then turned and looked over his shoulder, his gaze meeting Maddock's. The other guy looked as well.

  Instinct controlled his body. Maddock spread his legs a little bit and draped one arm over the back of the booth, warning the guy that he was watching and letting him see Maddock was big enough to defend what belonged to him.

  Not that Dex belonged to him.

  Fuck, what was happening to his brain?

  The twitch in his leg returned.

  He looked at the time. Dex's break was another twenty minutes away, but he didn't think he was going to make it. He had to get the hell out of there.

  He went back to his phone but barely saw the screen. Every movement in the bar caught his attention. His senses tracked Dex's path around the room, especially when he went near that table of men.

  The volume level rose as another big group came in. Dex seemed to know where everyone was, when they needed refills. He moved quickly but never seemed to rush a customer. Maddock had to admire the way he worked the crowd, smiling, flirting, teasing.

  It was all fine until Dex headed back to the first table of guys. He leaned forward placing another pitcher in the center of the table, showing off that tight ass. And the handsy bastard just couldn't keep from touching, once again patting Dex's hip like he had the right.

  Maddock was out of his booth before he knew what was happening. Four strides carried him across the room.

  He stared down at the construction worker and grabbed Dex's arm.

  “Take your break now,” he growled.

  Dex blinked and looked up at him. Those wide green eyes held a spark of fear, but the lust that flashed at him told him the shivers he sensed running through Dex's body weren't because he was afraid. Dex nodded.

  Maddock glared a warning down at the man who'd dared touch Dex. The guy flinched and satisfaction surged through Maddock's chest. He was pretty sure the guy would keep his hands to himself from now on.

  He nudged Dex to move and Dex headed toward the back of the bar. Maddock didn't let go as he followed, almost pushing Dex, urging him to get them somewhere private so he could…