by Julia Talbot
He moaned, his joy turning easily to need in the wake of the touch. “Dylan.”
“I know. I know.” Dylan kissed him again, letting him feel a little ache.
“I’m going to get you in trouble, distracting you.” He felt dizzy, felt like the world was spinning.
“Maybe. I think the guys will cut us some slack.” Dylan squeezed one of his asscheeks, sliding that hand under him easily. “They’ll have to understand. I need to touch you again. I need to make sure our bond grows.”
Dylan groaned and nuzzled into his neck, teeth threatening.
Rey moaned, his body warming, his cock hardening in a rush. How could this be happening? Bond? Yes, that was exactly what they had. Just like the mate bond he’d read about. Apparently, in the early stages, a bonded pair had sex.
Often.
“Tell me you need me.” Dylan’s voice was pure, deep growl.
“I do.” He climbed into Dylan’s lap, which seemed to be his new habit.
“Good.” Dylan kissed him, arching him over one arm, stretching him out.
He felt exposed but also too clothed. Damn it, why was he dressed?
He swore he could feel Dylan’s rough laughter bouncing inside his head. Dylan kissed his chin, his neck, then licked at his skin.
The bite, when it came, was blindingly fast and deep enough to ache. Dylan liked the biting part, so he grunted, wiggling until he could sink his teeth into Dylan’s shoulder.
Dylan growled, stood, and carried him to the back. To that little bed.
Laughing, he wrapped around Dylan, wondering if Dylan even had a place of his own.
“Don’t worry. Just let me touch you,” Dylan said, panting for him.
“I’m not worried, love.” In fact, he worried least of all in Dylan’s arms.
“Mmm… love. Yes.”
He blinked, but he’d meant it. Dylan was a key that unlocked him.
Dylan laid him down, then came down on top of him, rubbing against him.
“Dylan, we still have clothes on.”
“All in good time, sweetheart.”
He chuckled, tracing Dylan’s ear with his tongue. “So mean to me.”
“I am. Vicious wolf.” Dylan pressed one thigh down between his legs.
“My vicious wo—” Oh. Oh, that was so hot. He bucked, his body zinging as if he’d touched a live wire.
“Your vicious wolf. Look at you, baby. You make me hard.”
“Thank God. You have an amazing dick.” Was that… slutty?
Dylan hooted. “Thank you. Want to see it?”
“I want to see it. Suck it. Ride it. Touch it. All the its.”
“Please.” Dylan rose up off him, tearing at his clothes.
Apparently this was the “in good time” part.
“Don’t make me beat you, foxy.” Dylan seemed like he was in such a good mood.
He stuck his tongue out at Dylan, wiggling it madly. Making promises with it.
Dylan bit the tip, which was a fine maneuver in its own right. That took skill.
He gasped, staring into those warm, near-golden eyes. He could see the wolf in them, feel the contained power, and he reveled in it.
Dylan bent again, this time biting him so deliberately he almost came. He was going to have a bruise on his neck.
He heard it so clearly. So loud in his head. Mine.
“Yours.” He could no more deny that than he could stop breathing.
Whatever this was, it was theirs.
“Mates, sweetheart. We’re mates.”
“Touch me.” He arched into Dylan’s body, begging him for more.
“Anything.” Dylan stripped him down as well before running both big hands down his body. He felt dizzy, totally at the will of his instincts. He hoped they weren’t pouring out pheromones.
They probably were. Had Dylan locked the door?
“Pay attention,” Dylan said, growling.
“Make me.”
His eyes went wide. Had he said that?
“Oh, I will.” Dylan pressed him down, grabbing both his wrists in one hand to hold Rey’s hands over his head. “Gonna make you crazy.”
“Dylan….” Rey stretched up tall and as long as he could, lifting his chin, begging for another bite.
The low growl he got raised the hair on the back of his neck. Oh, that was amazing. That sound. Need and Alpha-ness and heat. That big body covered his, and he panted, the slide of their skin making him overheat.
“Mine, Rey. My mate.” Dylan’s free hand dragged over his skin, cupping his balls, circling his cock.
“Yes.” He arched into the touches, and Dylan gripped the base of his dick hard enough to make him grunt, then tugged all the way to the tip.
“Dylan!” His cry was sharp, and he spread wide, his thighs shaking.
“You smell like home. Like all the good things. Sharp and salty.” Dylan stroked until he had to grit his teeth and curl his toes to keep from coming. “Good. Good, wait for me. You….” Dylan bent his head and bit again.
“Oh.” He scratched at Dylan’s back. “Hurry up, then.”
“I’m almost there.” Dylan drove against him, hand trapped between them.
He surged up, bit Dylan’s earlobe, and tugged.
“Uh! Now.” Dylan squeezed his cock, and that sent him right over the edge. He shot against his mate, his balls emptying in a rush.
Dylan’s deep, musky scent flooded him, that come sliding over his cock and belly. So hot. They were perfect together. Mates, he supposed. He had no idea that could even happen.
He didn’t really care. He was just glad it had happened.
Dylan nuzzled just under Rey’s ear. “Yes.”
“I can smell you, us.” Rey groaned softly. “Crazy.”
“Mates by scent, hmm?”
“I have no idea how to be a wolf.”
Dylan snorted. “My pack has two cats and a bear.”
“And a fox,” he pointed out.
“Right. The only traditional thing is that Mick is a big bad wolf who huffs and puffs. He loves us all.”
Somewhere across the room, Dylan’s phone started playing “Red Riding Hood.”
“Uh-oh.” Rey figured that was someone pointing out that it was time to stop canoodling.
Did people still canoodle?
“Shit.” Dylan rolled off him, wiping off on the sheets. He lumbered over to grab up his phone. “Yeah, boss?”
That muscled ass made him stare and possibly….
Oh, that was worth a…. He grabbed his phone and took a picture. Yummy.
Dylan glared at him over one shoulder. “Uh-huh. I know. Yes, we were. Well, tough. Okay, be down in a mo.”
Rey zoomed in, took another shot because that big, rangy body was so perfectly lovely.
“Mick, I need to go. No. No, I’m going to beat him.”
“Only if you can catch me.” Ooh. Balls!
“Rey!” Dylan barked out his name, coming at him like a steam train just getting moving.
He leapt over the desk, spinning in the desk chair, snapping photos all the way. “I’m so instagramming you.”
“You are not!” Dylan roared like a fairy-tale dragon, hands up to reach for him.
Okay, that was hot as anything, and he couldn’t remember ever having so much fun in his life. He ran in circles, always just one step ahead of his lover, until Dylan turned back on him, grabbing him up to swing him around. He laughed into their kiss, rejoicing in Dylan’s strength.
“Mmm.”
A knock sounded at the outer door. “Dylan? Did the crocs find you? It sounds like a scene of unimaginable violence in there.”
Dylan shouted with laughter. “No, Kit! We’ll be right there!”
“Good. You can’t keep him all to yourself, you know. We all need to get to know him.”
Oh, he wasn’t sure anyone was going to get to know him like Dylan did. In fact, he would be rather put out if they did.
“I know, buddy. Be right down.” Dylan wink
ed at him. “Grab the laptop. Uh, after clothes.”
“Clothes would be lovely.” He took a selfie with them both.
“Freak.” Dylan goosed him. “I love it. Love you.”
His eyes widened, the words ringing in his ears. “It’s real, right? Even though we don’t know each other hardly? It’s okay?”
“It’s real. I have faith.” Dylan stopped everything, staring into his eyes. There lay a wealth of certainty there, a deep meaning.
“I can’t wait to learn things about you.”
“What’s your favorite food? Besides raisins?” Dylan pulled on the rumpled clothes right off the floor.
“Potato chips. Nuts. Crunchy things. You?” He got his jeans on.
“Mmm. Peanut butter. Hamburgers. Weird Colorado meats, like elk.”
“Elk burgers,” he moaned. Gracious, he did love game meat.
“We’ll go. I know a great place. No crocs allowed.”
Rey licked his lips, his belly all but gnawing at his spine. “How can I be hungry after all that food we ate?”
“Good sex. Great sex,” Dylan corrected himself.
“Right.” Rey could get used to that so quickly. Not just the sex and hunger but the rollicking adventure of Apex Investigations. Rey got dressed before grabbing the laptop. “Is it weird to go barefoot?”
“Nah. We’ll go to Mick’s apartment, I bet.”
“Where do you live? You’ve seen my old place, such as it is, with the fish stink and green water.” Rey grimaced.
“I live about five blocks from here. I walk to work.” Dylan grinned. “It’s great. An industrial place they made into apartments.”
“Oh? That sounds amazing. Will you take me to see?”
“I will.” Dylan led him out, then through a warren of hallways.
“Does Mick own the whole building?”
“He does. He rents to Kit and Brock too. James is in a weird place over in the low-rent district on Colfax. Very hoarder house.”
“Techie types can be that way. I just love dens. I like things to be organized.”
“I do too. I mean, I let my clothes pile up. They don’t stink.” Dylan knocked on a heavy door.
“My place didn’t stink until the crocs moved in,” he agreed. Musk was one thing. They were predators. Nastiness was another thing altogether.
“Come in, you two. Tell me you washed.” Mick was very frowny and growly.
“Oh. No. We did wipe off,” Dylan said breezily.
“I only have so many clothes,” Rey pointed out.
“Brock brought you more.” Mick gave them the greasy eyeball.
“Stop it, Mick. We’ll go have a shower after.” Dylan bared his teeth.
“I want you and James here with the rest of us permanently.” Mick bumped against Dylan’s shoulder, a move so wolfy it was akin to watching a documentary.
“I have a place, boss.”
Rey shot Dylan a look. Oh, this was like a constant argument, something that they’d all been over. He wondered if Mick would want him there too if he stayed like Dylan had asked him to.
“I have a place for both of you, and the rent is better than your place.” Mick crossed his arms over his chest, puffing up.
“Can we growl about this later?” James asked. “Hey, Rey, good work.”
“Thank you.” Rey smiled at James, relieved at the change of subject. “Did you find out who owned the property?”
“You were right. Patel Inc., and not even hiding behind a holding company.”
“Traced back directly?” Mick nodded. “Excellent. We can arrange a meet.”
“For what? Just to give him his SIM card back?” Rey wasn’t certain he followed the logic.
“No, to get the authorities in on it. We have the video, but a confession would be nice.” Mick wandered around.
“Oh. Cool.” Rey didn’t know how any of this worked. He mined information, not trouble, so he wasn’t at all certain about meet-ups and police and tigers.
“This is where we shine,” Dylan said. “We’ll make sure no one goes in alone.”
“Okay. Well, if you have my back.”
“We do.”
Nods came from all around the room. Everyone seemed to be behind him, and he thought maybe it wasn’t just a job. Rey was part of the pack now.
It didn’t mean he wasn’t frightened, but he’d figure it out; he had to. He could face Patel. He would have to, because the man was trying to kill him with crocodiles.
Hopefully a fox was too small for a tiger to take notice of. Perhaps together they were big enough to take on a big cat like Patel.
Still, that was better than having to do it all alone.
DYLAN KNOCKED on Mick’s office door about an hour after the last team meeting. The man had made the call to Patel, and Dylan wanted to see what the verdict was. He and Rey had showered, and now Rey was with James, making maps and getting satellite images and shit.
He wanted to know what the plan was. Hell, he needed to know so he could gird his loins.
“Hey, Dylan, come on in. He’s willing to meet. I told him we have the chip.” Mick looked less than thrilled but grimly satisfied.
“Okay. I hear you. When and where?” And he wanted was Rey left here with James, despite the fact that Rey thought he was coming along.
“Sixteenth Street mall. I figured that was so damn public he wouldn’t chance the crocs.” Mick’s expression was moving into pretty tickled now. He did love an adventure.
“Oh, that’s a great place to make the trade. Open. No water. Nowhere to hide.”
“Exactly. Close to the capitol so security is good….” Mick preened a little.
“Right. When?”
“Tomorrow at noon. I refused to do it in the dark. Pissed the son of a bitch right off.”
Dylan chuckled. “Good for you. Okay, so what can I do to help prepare?” He sat in the chair across from Mick’s desk. “I feel trapped in here.”
“I want to make sure we have a tactical plan, everyone is armed. I want eyes on the whole place.” Mick ticked off each point on his fingers.
“You got it. I’ll get with Brock and Kit.” He was about to stand when Mick held up a hand. Dylan sank back into his chair. “What?”
“What’s it going to take for you to move in?” Mick asked. The very evenness of his tone meant he was through joking and threatening.
“Don’t you think having us all in one place is the easiest way to attack us all at once?” They’d had this discussion a dozen times a month for years.
“I worry. You’re pack, and now you have a mate to protect.”
“About that….” He took a deep breath, clearing his mind. “We’re good?”
“We are? Who’s we?” Mick frowned.
“You and me, man. Even with Rey.”
“Oh!” Mick’s expression cleared up. “Yes. Why would I object to Rey?” Mick grimaced. “I mean, I did think he was a faker to begin with, but I know better now.”
“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” Dylan grinned at his Alpha, so pleased he could bust.
“I like him. He’s quiet but devious. And clean. You know he did the dishes with Kit from the hamburger feast?” Mick asked.
“Did he? He likes Kit.”
“I do too.” Mick winked. “I got to admit, Dylan, I’m worried. Those crocs are something.”
“They’re awful. I have to tell you, Rey seemed to know they were out there when we parked.”
Mick’s eyes narrowed, one eyebrow lifting. “What? He knew?”
“No, no. Sensed. I mean, he sensed it.”
That made Mick scowl harder. “Weird. I mean, some guys do have a sixth sense. I think Brock has warrior timing and James has electro-philia.”
“Right?” They all had something clever about them, or they sure seemed to. That was why they were a team.
That was why they were a family. “Well, we’ll stay here until this is over, anyway. But I don’t know about moving in. I don’t like being a singular
target, boss.”
“I know.” Mick sighed. “I wish there was a better solution, but we’re urban or we can’t do our job.”
“Well, for now, we’re here. We’ll revisit once we deal with this croc situation.”
“Yeah. Man, who knew?”
They shared a grin, because crocs. In Denver. It boggled the mind, really.
“All right. I’ll get with Brock. Holler if you need me.”
Mick waved him off, so he went looking for grumpy kitty.
He played the find-the-kitty game with himself. He had a knack for finding people. He didn’t think about it too hard, and he wasn’t silly enough to think that he was psychic. He just paid attention, noticing details when he needed to. Writing them down.
“You start with the obvious,” he muttered, peeking into Brock’s office. No dice. So, not obvious. “Gym.” Hands in his pockets, he whistled his way to the gym on the lower floor. Brock worked out often when he was on a puzzle.
The sound of Brock’s fists hitting the heavy bag came to him, the noise rhythmic and steady. Familiar. Dylan wandered into the room, wishing he’d picked up a doughnut or something. Watching Brock work out made him hungry.
Brock worked the bag with a steadily increasing pace, the pounding growing faster, harder.
Dylan plopped down on a weight bench, waiting. Admiring. A dead straight man would admire Brock like this—hot, shining with sweat, focused. Yum.
“Stop drooling at me, Dylan.”
“Hey, you wouldn’t work this hard if you didn’t want people to look,” Dylan teased.
“I work this hard because I have to protect you and all my clients.”
“I don’t live here, Brock.” Everyone seemed to think he couldn’t take care of himself.
“Mick wants you here because he’s the pack Alpha, Dylan. Not because he thinks you’re incompetent.”
“And you want to protect me because?”
“You’re my amigo.” That frown was epic.
Dylan nodded. “I am, at that. Why are you so pissy about me and Rey hooking up?” He wanted to know, to clear the air.
“I don’t like foxes. I had a bad experience.”
“What happened?” He knew Brock had been in a brutal relationship, but all the details had never been explained.
Brock shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
