The Pack or the Panther

by Tara Lain

Hysteria. Wolves who a moment before were laughing drunkenly got very, very sober fast. They knew what “no alliance” meant. And so did he. War, death, or at least diminished means. Bad news for all.

  Lindsey took his arm. “I’m truly sorry, Cole.”

  Cole looked at the female, who was slinking away, now that several wolves appeared ready to kill the messenger. “Wait.” She turned back, but her sulky face looked really scared. “This lover is someone she’s known a long time?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you know who?”

  She shook her head. “I never met him. He’s human.”

  More hysteria. “What?”

  “How could she do this?”

  “She’s alphanta?”

  “The bitch, I could kill her.”

  The female cowered. Cole took her arm. “It’s all right. Not your fault.” He raised his voice. “And it’s not, uh, Alphanta Analiese’s fault either.” Oh crap. Instant panic. Cotton in the throat. All those faces staring at him. He couldn’t. He had to try. “It’s, uh, not reasonable—” He gasped for breath. “It’s—”

  A milk chocolate voice came from behind him. “It’s not reasonable to ask a modern female to give up her lover for politics, no matter how valuable the alliance.” Paris stepped up beside Cole, body paint replaced by a slim gray designer suit. “Think about it. What would you do if someone told you to give up your beloved to live your life with someone else whom you barely know? It’s easy to say, ‘Let the alphantas do it.’ But they’re no different from the rest of us, really. Just more dedicated. Is it fair to ask such a price, even of an alphanta?”

  A voice came from the crowd. “But Cole was prepared to do it.”

  Cole shook his head.

  Paris nodded. “He’s not in love with someone else.”

  The male’s eyes got wide, and he pointed at Cole. “Yes, but you’re—”

  “Hsss.” Paris actually bared his teeth and hissed. That shut the wolf up. “Yes, but—he’s a dedicated leader who will do a lot for his pack. Still, it’s not even fair to ask it of him.” He took hold of Cole’s arm. It might look protective, but the heat from those tight fingers made a beeline south. “Go home. The news has no doubt already traveled to the alphas. Maybe they’ll decide to confirm the alliance without a marriage. It’s in good hands. Go home.”

  Paris raised those gold eyes to him. “And you, my wolf, come with me.”

  Cole pulled back and glanced around. Everybody knew or suspected he was gay, even though they ignored it. He was being led away by an obviously gay guy. They were going to think the worst. Besides, he needed to get to Landon and Crystal and figure out what the hell to do now.

  He glanced at the other wolves, then stared at Paris. The male was a dream walking.

  Well, shit, the truth was the truth. He was gay, he’d just been rejected by a female, and Paris wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to Cole—he was the best. The alphas had made up this alliance shit without him. They could do it again.

  He fell in beside Paris, the guy’s hand still tightly clutching his arm.

  They hurried through a side door and into the kitchen. Empty, thank God. Paris pulled him around the prep tables and out the exterior door into the cool night air. Then he broke into a run. Cole loped beside him. “Where are we going?”

  Paris nodded toward the trees.

  Cole took a deep breath. Yes, oxygen. The sounds of night.

  Paris broke through the trees and just kept running. These were the trees Cole figured all the wolves would be fucking in after Paris’s dance. Fucking. That sounded way too good.

  Finally Paris stopped in a tiny clearing surrounded by huge oak trees and some newly flowering shrubs. Moonlight filtered through branches. Magic. The cat wasn’t even breathing hard. Cole was, but not from running. Watching Paris move was like porno art. Cole shrugged off his suit coat and hung it over a branch, then pulled off his tie.

  Paris purred. “I like the way this is going.”

  Cole smiled but speared Paris with his eyes. They were probably glittering in the moonlight just like the cat’s were. “Did you know anything about this?”

  Paris grabbed a few leaves on a bush and pulled them toward him, then let them snap back. “About Analiese’s disappearing? No. I barely know her. She’d never confide in me. But I did sense that she was a lot more upset than my parents were admitting.”

  “Yeah. I got that too. What do you think they’ll do now? This alliance isn’t a joke.”

  “So I gather.” He looked up, and the moon shone off his irises. “I’ve heard bad things about Eliazer. He comes into the club where I dance. Leaves me big tips. Gives me the creeps.”

  “No shit.” Cole took a few steps toward Paris. “You need to be careful. He’s dangerous.”

  Paris shrugged and leaned against a low-hanging branch. “I’m just an exotic dancer. No skin in the game.” He laughed. “Just a lot of skin on the pole.”

  “How did you happen to become a, uh, dancer?”

  Paris frowned. “I got a degree in political science from Georgetown. But I’m a frigging panther. I hate groups.”

  “You’re one hell of a natural politician.”

  He sighed. “I know. Feline. Naturally sneaky. Able to charm my way in to the best meal or place in the sunshine.” He twisted himself around the branch and, man, did that bring back memories of his dance earlier.

  “You remind me of your father. He’s a good politician too.”

  Paris frowned. A lot. “I’m not like him. I’m just like my mother.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but how do you know? Didn’t she die when you were born?”

  He speared Cole with his glistening gaze. “Yes. But people have told me. And I just know.”

  “People? You mean your father?”

  Paris ripped at some leaves, batting them like a cat. “Yes, but I know I’m like her without being told. I look like her and I—feel like her.”

  Whoa. Emotional topic for the feline. Cole leaned against a tree truck. “You don’t like groups, but isn’t your dancing a big group thing? All those humans screaming for your body.”

  Paris raised his fine, arched brows. “It’s like being alone in the middle of a crowd. Everyone looks, nobody touches.”

  “Why do you do it? Your pack is well off. Good businesses and income, I’m sure.”

  “Spoken like a lawyer. And you’re determined to find out about me, aren’t you?”

  Cole shrugged. “You interest me.”

  The cat’s lips twitched up. “And I’d never want to discourage your interest.” He slipped off his jacket, leaving him in a soft white shirt that gleamed almost as much as his pale skin. “I don’t like being dependent. I get huge tips for my dancing. The club is high-end, exclusive, and I have an agreement with management. Nobody puts their hands on me. I’m unique enough that I can demand that and get it.”

  “I’ll say. Do they know what you are?”

  He shook his head. “The owners are human.”

  Cole took hold of a branch a few feet from Paris. “Do you think the alliance will stand?”

  He shrugged. “Hard to say. I know everyone hopes so, so I hope so too.”

  Cole pulled his eyebrows together. “But you don’t really care.”

  Paris looked up sharply. “Yes, I care. I care about my parents. They’ve been good to me and I owe them a lot. I’m a freak by wolf standards, and my father has never abjured me. I honestly believe he kept me separate for my well-being more than his own. He acknowledges me as his son even though I remind him of his greatest sorrow.”

  “Your panther mother.”

  He nodded. “And Trixie isn’t a brave female. My existence is difficult for her, but she’s been nothing but good to me. She had to stand against the combined disapproval of a lot of other females for me. They didn’t know what I was, but they knew I was Merced’s first wife’s son. They weren’t kind. She was. I value her and want the best.”

 
Cole nodded. If there was one thing he understood, it was loyalty.

  “And then there’s you.”

  Cole glanced up. Look at that mischievous face. He’d switched from deeply serious to court jester in one second flat.

  “What about me?” He grinned.

  The cat danced around his tree, unfastening buttons on his shirt with intricate skill. “You want the alliance and I want you. Isn’t that an Aristotelian principle? If A equals B and B equals C, then Paris wants Cole to have his alliance so Paris can have Cole’s big yummy cock in his ass. An ass, I might add, that’s been throbbing like a voodoo drum since I first looked in your silver eyes, wolfman.” He whipped off the shirt, leaving his upper body bare.

  Wow. Even knowing what was coming, that sight was hard to believe. The cat’s skin glowed in the moonlight like so much alabaster formed into a work of art. If you liked bulky, you wouldn’t like Paris. But if the look of a black leopard stealing along a branch stilled your heart, this sight would do it for you down to the ground. Not really slim. More like lean, with muscles just where they should be, but as if they were made of silk rather than stone. Fluid.

  Paris reached and grabbed a branch, then pulled himself up one-armed until he leaned over the wood on his belly. Flip. He circled and came up to sitting, his upper body glowing and long legs dangling. He spread his arms out for a second as if balancing on a tightrope. Then he reached in and started to unfasten his belt. Slowly, he slipped it from his trousers, then swung it over his head until it caught on an upper branch.

  He pulled himself to standing and used one hand to slowly lower his fly.

  White showed in the gap. Oh my. Not white underwear. White skin. Cole shuddered. He wasn’t used to this kind of sexy. Hell, who was? This cat was one of a kind.

  Paris wiggled his hips and the pants started to descend. Lower. Lower. Oops, they got caught on a prominent appendage. He grinned, did a big hip roll and a bump. The fabric flew off its sticking point and fell unencumbered. Shee—it.

  Cole stared at the very erect cock sticking out from between those slim haunches. He licked his lips. He never wanted much in his life, at least not for himself. But damn, this he wanted.

  Paris started a little bob that made his cock dance. “Here, puppy, puppy.”

  Yeah, why not. Cole’s body throbbed, and even the fabric of his pants was too much pressure on his cock. Ready to blow. He unfastened his belt as he walked slowly across the clearing to where Paris danced on his branch.

  He looked up. “If you want me to suck that thing, you better get it down to lip range.”

  Paris danced and laughed. “Oh no, my puppy. You put one fang on this dick and it’s bye-bye, Charlie. I’ll blow so hard, they’ll give me a tropical storm name. I have a better idea.”

  He squatted on the branch, with his trousers still pooled around his legs. The position made his cock stick up like a pole between his knees and put one very cute and seriously shaved butthole on display. Cole could come just watching.

  The cat fished in a pants pocket and pulled out what looked like a couple of tubes of lube. Whoa. Talk about your good ideas. And they didn’t even need condoms since they were both shifters. That would be a first for him, since he always fucked humans. Cole took two more steps toward the tree.

  Paris kicked the pants to the ground. “Heads up.” He tossed the tube to Cole. “Put this where it will do the most good.”

  Oh. My. God. He dropped the lube, his hands were shaking so hard, and he had to do a quick grab.

  “A little anxious, are we?” That amazing cat lay down on the branch on his back and propped a leg against a higher branch. Somehow he opened the lube packet with his teeth, squeezed some into one hand, and started pushing it into his hole with the other without even wobbling on the branch.

  “How do you do that?”

  “Ummm. Well, sometimes I use two fingers, but you’ve got me so hot I could push a fist in there and it would fit fine.”

  “That’s not what I—” He laughed.

  Paris looked sideways, still idly pushing lube and humming. “Where’s my treat, Puppy Boy? I’ve been wanting to see it for ever so long.

  “You want it, you got it, cat.” He opened his fly, reached into the boxer briefs he’d managed to wear today, and hauled out his cock. Just like Paris had said, barely touching it made him want to come on the spot.

  Paris grinned. “Glad I have room for a fist. That should be just about right. I didn’t know you were an elephant shifter.”

  Could he blush and swagger at the same time? He walked toward Paris with his cock out but pants still fastened at the waist so they didn’t fall down.

  When he got close, Paris turned on the branch, grabbed the one above, and pulled his legs back to his ears. Target ahead! One asshole poised for penetration.

  Just the sight was an orgasm. Cole grabbed his cock and strangled it hard. He had to last a few more minutes. Needed into that hole.

  “Get over here.”

  Cole unfastened his pants and let them slide down. He stepped out of them and then ripped the bothersome briefs down his legs and kicked them aside. His cock pressed hard against his abdomen. He ripped the lube packet with his teeth, tossed the paper, and slopped some on his throbbing elephant cock.

  Paris slid his hips way off the branch with his legs in a wide V. Oh shit, this is so sexy. The cat grinned. “I hope you’ve got good aim.”

  “Try me.” Cole grabbed his cock, stepped up to that ass, and pulled Paris off the branch and to his waiting dick. Paris wrapped those hard-muscled legs around Cole’s waist, and Cole positioned his cock at his back door. “Ready when you are.”

  Paris tightened his legs and pulled himself straight onto Cole’s cock.

  “Ohhhhh.” No description. No word for how it felt. Hot. So tight he could strangle happily. Squeezing every nerve on his dick perfectly, like the penis and the ass had been designed together and then taken apart and distributed. Perfect.

  Cole opened his eyes to see Paris staring at him with glazed gold eyes. “You’re all the way in, Puppy. Get ready.”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  Paris grasped the branch tight with his hands and started to thrust his hips hard against Cole, back and forth like some electric swing. Fire flashed up Cole’s spine on every push. He pulled back and rocked forward until their timing perfected and their hips met in the middle. Bam, bam, bam. Fuck!

  Paris threw back his head. Some keening, screaming sound never made by a wolf poured out of him. “Fuuuuck. I knew it. I knew you’d be this great. Fuck me, my wolf. Fuck me senseless.”

  Easily said. Happily done.

  He grabbed Paris’s legs for leverage and hammered his ass. Long strokes, then in for a pound, pound, pound. Back to long and slow. Not a nerve ending got missed. In, out, in, out. The sizzle started in his cockhead and seared up his shaft to his balls, where it started to boil. Every particle of awareness shot straight to his cock, like watching a volcano and waiting for the eruption.

  Paris grabbed his own cock and stroked it, then squeezed it hard until his knuckles turned white. “Oh God, Puppy, gonna come. Want it to last forever, but no go. Oh shit, oh shit. Ohhh.” He released his hand and spurts of thick white jism shot out of him onto the cat’s silken skin.

  This. Was. It. “Ohhhhh.” Cole howled and slammed his rod so far into that hot ass it should have come out Paris’s mouth. “Ahooooooo.” It felt like more than cum poured out of him. Some internal parts must be liquefying and melting into the cat’s body. Amazing. All he saw was black, then white, then stars.

  Both their bodies trembled and shook together.

  Paris sagged against him. Cole reached out and supported his weight as the cat drew his arms around Cole’s neck. His legs weren’t working well enough for one, much less two. He staggered over to a fallen log and sat on it, still carrying his beautiful burden.

  Hot breath warmed his ear. Hold this guy tight.

  Extraordinary. In all his adult life, he
’d only had sex with human males he picked up for a quick fuck and seldom, if ever, saw again. This felt so different. So—real.

  So nice.

  The silky voice whispered against his ear. “Well, aren’t you all that and a bag of chips.”

  What did that mean?

  He must have tensed because Paris leaned back and looked up into his face. “Sorry to sound snarky. This was great. Really great.”

  “Yeah.”

  Paris snuggled back against his neck. “You smell good too. Not like some wolves. You’re fresh and sweet.”

  “I’m not sure that compliments my alpha male credentials.”

  “Right. We’ll take out an ad. ‘Vote for Cole as pack alpha. He smells good.’”

  Cole shrugged, which moved Paris against him. “Doubt if I’ll ever be an alpha anyway.”

  Paris pulled back again and stared at him. “Why ever not? You have alpha written all over you.”

  He shrugged. “I’m a gay werewolf. No one will accept that happily. It would have been okay if I’d married Analiese. Everyone would have been so grateful for the alliance, they’d have accepted my weirdness. But as it is, nah. Doesn’t matter. I don’t really want to be alpha.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Paris kept staring.

  Cole ducked his head. “I’d like to do the good stuff. You know, protect the pack. Make sure things run well and everyone thrives. But I hate speaking and motivating and all that crap. I hate the politics. Hell, you’d be a better alpha at that part than me.”

  Paris laughed. “Right. You think you’re weird. I’m a gay panther half-breed. Besides, I hate packs. I’m o sole mio, Puppy.”

  “We’re a couple of freaks, all right.”

  Paris licked Cole’s neck. Goose bumps attacked Cole’s arms and Paris laughed and rubbed them. “Guess we better get dressed and face whatever music is playing.”

  Shit. Here he was hanging out. “Yeah. I need to see Landon and figure out what to do about Eliazer. If there’s going to be a war, we need to prepare.”

  Paris’s eyes widened. “War? What the hell? Is it that serious?”

  “Probably. With no alliance, we’re sitting ducks if we wait it out. We’ll have to arm up and look tough. Hope he thinks we’re scarier than we are.”