The Pack or the Panther

by Tara Lain

  Oh my God. He’d worn little in Connecticut. This was virtually nothing.

  He wore black stripes, in sharp contrast to his pale, white skin. One of those stripes was a tiny G-string that held the considerable bulge of his cock, and that was it. He was clothed in nothing but stripes and his long hair.

  The music changed and he began to undulate, still hanging from one arm. Then his legs spread and he turned upside down, spinning like a wide leaf in the wind. The hair whipped out, and he moved his head so it wrapped around the pole by itself. He held the pole with the strength of his arms and arched his body out like a fountain, pointing his barely covered cock right at the audience.

  Cole’s heart beat like a hammer, and his cock sprang to attention. Not good. All his senses needed to be sharp, not clouded with his own hunger.

  Then he smelled it. Lust so dense it filled his nose. God. He swallowed back the bile in his throat. That wolf wanted badly. Not just sex but more. Violence. Torture.

  Cole’s hands knotted into fists. His wolf screamed in his ears. Kill him. Kill the bastard who threatens your—

  Lindsey’s hand gripped his forearm. “Are you okay? Your eyes are glowing.”

  “Uh, sorry.” Just breathe.

  He dragged his mind away from the stage and focused on the presence of the wolf behind him. Deep, sharp, pungent, sickening.

  Blood. The man had blood on his body, perhaps in his hair or under his fingernails. He carried a gun and some other metal. A knife, probably. Hard to smell anything over the reek of his desire for Paris. A lot of people in this room coveted the dancer’s body, but this was different. Like ownership. Possession. Sick and hungry. God, Cole wanted to throw himself on the stage and cover Paris’s body with his own. Maybe he was no better than Eliazer, wanting to own that cat.

  Oooooh. The audience sucked a collective breath. Cole looked back at the stage. Holy…. Paris hung by his ankle and spun and revolved, his hair making figures against the flashing lights. He leaped from one pole to the other with a full circle in between. Such artistry. But Cole’s cock wasn’t interested in art. It remembered that cat wrapping muscular legs around his ass and fucking him senseless. Yeah, and his cock wanted more.

  A vibration. A phone. Eliazer’s. God, the noise in the room had reached the threshold of pain.

  He had to hear, but no chance. Even his sharpened senses couldn’t do it.

  He needed wolf ears.

  Could he do it? He’d managed it once before, just playing around, trying to spy on one of the cute guys of the pack. He’d shifted just his hearing to wolf. But no fur. Just the senses.

  He took a deep breath. Focus. A little trickle of fire burned in his ear canals. Itchy, but working. It was like every sound stood out by itself, isolated, crisp. He could choose which sound to pay attention to.

  A low, rumbling voice talking softly stood out in the noise. Like hearing a rabbit in a windstorm.

  Listen. “Good. Yes, we’ll move in—” A roar went up from the crowd. Damn. It quieted. “—a few more days won’t hurt. Get them ready.” The voice stopped. Just breathing. The smell of lust rose.

  Cole looked at the stage. Paris was in a full split, shifting from leg to leg, his cock framed by the V of his legs. The voice hissed, “Don’t bother me now. We go in a week.” And the voice stopped.

  Could he be talking about Harker territory? Eliazer was a gangster. It could be anything, anyone he was moving in on. But maybe, just maybe this was a lead.

  Applause rocked the room. The audience leaped to their feet, cheering. Lindsey stood and Cole rose beside him as the houselights came back up to half. People stomped their feet and cheered as Paris bowed low on the stage. He rose up and spread his arms like a ballet dancer, smiling. And then it happened. The gold eyes locked with Cole’s. Shit.

  Paris’s face went blank, then drew into a frown. He seemed to realize where he was, smiled, and ran off the stage.

  Lindsey leaned over. “He saw you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. I’m so damned tall.”

  Lindsey laughed. “Oh, poor baby. What should we do?” He looked over Cole’s shoulder. “It looks like Eliazer is finishing his drink. Probably not wise to just march past him.”

  “Yes, I agree.”

  “Perhaps we should get another—”

  “Can I get you gentlemen a drink?” The young waitress smiled, but her eyes were very wide. She smelled scared.

  Lindsey laughed. “You took the words out of my mouth.”

  She held up her tablet to place the order and wiggled a note that she was holding under it. She glanced at Cole. Linds got the drift. “Why don’t you bring me a Kir Royale and a French 75 for my friend?”

  Cole reached up and grabbed the note. Her eyes glanced to the side as if she could see behind her. Eliazer. Was she afraid of him?

  He looked at the note. It was written in lipstick and probably not by Paris. Go to men’s room. Someone will get you.

  He looked at the girl and spoke very softly. “This is Pa—Anthony?”

  She nodded. “That’s great, sir. I’ll have those for you right away? Can I get you any food?”

  Lindsey made a wide gesture. “No, I think the drinks will be fine.”

  “Be right back.” She smiled and practically ran toward the bar.

  Lindsey spoke through his teeth. “What the hell.”

  Cole slid to the edge of the booth. He spoke just loud enough for effect. “I have to go to the men’s room. I also have a phone call to make, if you’ll forgive me, darling.”

  Lindsey caught on quick. “Not another guy, I hope.”

  “Never.” He leaned in and gave Lindsey a peck on the lips. “I’ll be a few minutes.”

  Linds held up his phone. “It’s okay. I have some stock reports to check.”

  Cole kissed the air and walked toward the men’s room. Had that been enough of a show? Heat crept up his back. Was Eliazer watching him? A human waited by the men’s room door. He didn’t say a word, just wagged a finger and led Cole down the hall to a closed door, then turned and left.

  Cole’s heart beat so hard he couldn’t hear.

  Chapter Ten

  His heart beat so hard he couldn’t hear. Damn the puppy! Paris stalked around his plush dressing room. He should calm down. But Cole standing right there in the audience! Who had sent him and what the hell was their game? He turned and paced the other direction, his dressing gown flapping around his legs like a tail.

  A knock on the door stopped him. Cole. He walked over and conspicuously unlocked the door, but he didn’t open it. Let the wolf figure it out. A few paces took him to the opposite end of the dressing room. He turned and crossed his arms over his beating heart.

  Slowly the door opened, like maybe Cole had turned the knob and hit the door and it traveled in on its own. The big wolf stood outside the door looking—Paris sighed—so ridiculously delicious it made his cock ache.

  He waved a hand. “Don’t leave the door open, for crap’s sake—come in and shut it.”

  Cole walked in and closed the door behind him.

  Paris waved his hand again. “Lock it!”

  Cole complied, then turned and looked at Paris. “You took off your stripes.”

  “I don’t exactly go around striped on the streets.”

  Cole’s lips turned up just a smidge. “Uh, you look good. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  “What the fuck?” He threw his hands in the air and collapsed in a wingback chair. “You came to my show. Of course you expected to see me.”

  “Uh, I mean I didn’t expect to see you off stage.”

  Paris frowned. What kind of game was this? “What in the hell are you talking about? You came here to get me.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean ‘no’?”

  “I didn’t come here for you at all. I remembered that you said Eliazer came here to see you, and it was the only place I knew to look for him. That’s why I came.”

  “Not for me?”
He wanted to scream and he wanted to cry. Which one would win?

  “No. You said to leave you alone.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Paris leaped out of the chair and hurled himself across the room at Cole with his fingers extended like claws. He hit the wolf like a missile and scratched at his face. “You bastard. You sucked me in and got me involved with your ridiculous pack crap.”

  “Wait. Hold on.” Cole wrapped a huge arm around his middle, pulled Paris’s back against his chest, and held him with his feet off the floor. The big, dumb, bastard!

  Paris kicked his feet, which was humiliating. “Let me go.”

  “And let you scratch me? No way.”

  Paris shook his head wildly. Frustration. “Why did you—? Why didn’t you—? Shit!”

  “Uh-uh. You’re just a confused kitty.”

  He had to stop this. Heat pushed behind his eyes. Damn. What was going on? The words flew out. “You didn’t come for me.”

  For a second Cole said nothing. “You said you didn’t want me. Hell, you practically tore down your parents’ office door proving it.”

  Paris frowned. “That’s right. I don’t.”

  Cole loosened his grip just a little and let Paris’s feet hit the floor, though his strong arms still held Paris’s body tight. It felt way too good.

  “So why should I come looking for you?”

  “Because you want me?”

  “What gave you your first clue?” His voice held laughter.

  “The nine-inch steel rod sticking in my butt?”

  A big hand slid down the front of Paris’s robe. “Oh, like the tentpole I see you’re sporting?”

  Cole’s fingers brushed the silk robe aside and closed around Paris’s erection. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

  “I don’t.” But his hips were thrusting his cock into Cole’s hand. Liar hips.

  Cole pressed tight against Paris’s butt. That big cock nestled between his ass cheeks. More!

  Oh hell. He was burning up! He turned in Cole’s loosened embrace and grabbed his face, pushing his mouth hard against those carved lips. He reached down, managed to pull Cole’s zipper past that hard-on from heaven, and stood on tiptoe so he could rub their dicks together.

  Cole pulled back, gasping. “I don’t have long. Lindsey is outside waiting for me.”

  A low growl trembled past Paris’s lips. Shit, where did that come from?

  Cole’s eyes widened. “Linds? He’s just my friend. But Eliazer is out there. I don’t want to put Lindsey in danger.”

  Paris heard his own breath, hot and hard. “Fuck me quick. I can’t stand it if you don’t.” He ran to the makeup table, fished in a drawer, and grabbed some lube. “I use this for jacking off.” His main form of release. But at this moment he had the best cock he’d ever had on a silver platter, and he wasn’t passing it up.

  “Hell yes.” Cole unfastened his belt and pulled his trousers down, freeing the very big junior wolf.

  Time for naked. Paris threw off his robe. Cole’s eyes widened. Good. Pant, wolf. He squeezed lube on his fingers and shoved it in his own hole, then handed the tube to Cole, who slicked his cock.

  Paris turned the chair around and bent over the back of it. “Like what you see, wolfman?”

  “Let me at it.”

  Paris reached back and spread his ass cheeks. Cole’s cock fit into the space so nicely.

  Cole leaned over and whispered, “Breathe out, cat.”

  Paris did, and as the breath went out, the cock went in. And in. And in. Oh God, he’d almost forgotten how much there was of it.

  Cole pushed in to his balls, then rested on Paris’s back and breathed.

  “What happened to that need for speed, Puppy?”

  “Hold on.”

  Wham. Those hips pulled out and slammed back in. Shit, yes! Perfect.

  Again.

  And again.

  Paris pushed back as Cole pressed in and the rhythm shot fire through his veins. Cole grabbed the back of his neck. Shit! Paris threw his head back and snarled. But oh God, he loved it. He loved it. This was it. Flaming, out-of-control passion like he never got it. He ran from it! Why the hell did he keep running to this dog? Yes, to get this.

  Those agile hips kept hammering and every thrust connected to nerves that lit him up like a Fourth of July celebration. Light and fire shot through his hole and into his balls, which were already bubbling with cum. This. Was. It.

  “Eeeeeeeowwww.” A ribbon of joy burst out of his cock as streams of hot white spunk. Oh God.

  That wolf paw dug into his neck. “You like it, cat? You want this?”

  “Yes, oh yes.”

  “Good!” He pounded like a pile driver until gasps and tremors rocked that big body. “Oh yeah. Oh God, yeah.”

  Paris could picture the river of cum filling his ass. He’d probably drip for days. Good.

  Cole collapsed over his back, gasping. “How can you do this to me?”

  Paris shook his head. No chance of speaking yet. And thinking was a regular field of land mines.

  Silence. But not quiet. His brain might explode any minute, and he could feel Cole’s head practically bursting. Why, oh why, could he not resist this damned wolf?

  The puppy rose off his back. Man, he hated the cold. He just hung there over the chair back. Maybe if he didn’t move, he wouldn’t have to think or speak.

  That deep, hesitant voice. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  Paris sighed and pulled himself up from the chair. Cole had already tucked in his shirt and closed his trousers. Pristine. Paris grabbed his robe and slipped it on. “No, it’s okay. It’s better, actually. Nothing’s changed. We both know we’re hot for each other, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a pack animal and I’m not.” At least not that he was telling anyone.

  Cole swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “So that’s it? Thanks for the fuck?”

  “What can I say? You wanted it too.”

  Cole frowned. “Yeah, I wanted it and I still do. But what I don’t want is to leave you in this place. It’s not safe. And people stare at you and scream at you and—” His voice caught.

  Is this what he’d wanted? Had he been hoping Cole had come to rescue him like some wolf in knight’s clothing? Back to fantasyland. “I’ve made a life here. I work hard to stay safe and nobody messes with me. I like it.” He picked up his powder puff and patted it on his nose, then looked over his shoulder. “Why don’t we turn the tables? You stay here with me. They don’t accept you in the pack. You’re just a big bundle of nose and eyes and biceps to them. Some superwolf commodity to be bought and sold.”

  A flash of pain passed over Cole’s face, so crushing that Paris almost stopped. Almost.

  “You’re as much of an outcast as I am. You just don’t know it.”

  Cole stared with anguish in his eyes; then he straightened his back. “Actually, I do know it. But unlike the fucking Marketos, I keep my promises.” And he walked out the door.

  What the fuck? Paris reached up to feel the tears on his cheeks.

  * * *

  Cole hurried out of the men’s room hall. Another act was on stage and the lights were low, so he had to skirt around the edge of the audience. God, he felt kicked in the stomach—and the cock—but he could still walk. He circled the room. People barely noticed him as he threaded between tables. Hell, the two blonde goddesses entwined with each other on the stage were far more interesting than him. And Eliazer’s table was empty.

  As he slipped into the booth, Lindsey looked at him with wide eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, uh, dear. My phone call just went on and on.”

  “I thought you fell in.” He said it for show, but it had that hint of Lindsey acid in it. He leaned over and kissed Cole’s cheek and whispered, “Darling, I have no nose at all and I think you smell like a porno movie set.”

  Cole felt heat in his cheeks. “Sorry.”

  “My, you have no willpower when it comes to the kitty.” Lin
ds looked up for the waitress and made a scribbling motion. “We need to get you out of here before someone with a real sense of smell gets close to you.”

  The cute blonde waitress hurried up to their table. “Can I get you something else, gentlemen?”

  Lindsey shook his head. “Just the check, please.

  She hit a button on her tablet and showed Lindsey the total. “They’ll have a receipt for you at the door, sir.”

  “Excellent.” He put five hundred dollars on her tablet. “Settle up for me, will you?” He put another hundred on top. “Keep all the change.” He flicked the edge of a business card he had secreted in the bills. “What’s your name?”

  “Helena, sir.”

  “You’ve given us excellent service, Helena. I’ll be sure and tell them so at the desk. And if I can ever do anything for you”—he looked at her steadily—“you have only to ask.”

  “That’s very kind, sir.” Her eyes glanced up to where Eliazer had been sitting, then back to Lindsey. “Very kind.”

  She walked away as they slid out of the booth and moved toward the elevator.

  Cole leaned in. “What was that about?”

  “She looks like someone who may know where the bodies are buried around this place. Quiet, unassuming, and pretty. Good for loosening men’s tongues. Speaking of which, I want to hear everything about your kitty encounter.”

  * * *

  As the two men got on the elevator, Nikel stepped out of the space behind the banner advertising next week’s big act. Wolves. They had to be. Even he could smell them, and he had no nose. Or at least he could smell that big one. That one had alpha written all over him, but Eliazer had never seen him before. The slim, pretty one was a well-known businessman. His waiter had told him the guy was Lindsey Vanessen. Hellishly rich. Interesting. Maybe he was a wolf too. He’d heard a rumor that there could be shifters in a few of the prominent families, but this was his first real evidence.

  But the big one. That guy made Nikel itch. He’d seen that handsome face before, but where? And why were two wolves seeing Anthony’s show when the rich one had never come there before? The whole thing made him nervous. He needed to know who that big wolf was, but his waiter hadn’t known. Apparently, Vanessen hadn’t given the guy’s name at the door. They appeared to be lovers. Maybe. But there was no room for screw-ups.