Usually I could ignore my grief over my own adoptive brother, but for a moment it took me by the throat.
Matthew burst back into the kitchen, now wearing a shirt, and headed for the stove, and I blinked it away.
He shoved two frying pans onto the stovetop and went to the fridge. “I can’t cook anything besides fried eggs,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”
Gods, this pack needed help. A cook. And maybe a financial planner. Not that they could afford either of those.
“Fine. Thank you.” I shot him a polite little smile. Miss Manners would’ve approved. Fuck, why couldn’t I just be normal? Maybe because I’d tried my normal, and they’d locked me in the basement.
“You’re welcome,” Matthew said with a slight answering frown. He seemed stiff and weird too.
With his back to me, and the pans starting to sizzle, it got even harder to relax. The strong lines of his body were an excellent view, but I couldn’t see his face. I’d have preferred to at least know if he was still frowning, if he was standing there panicking over how to tell me he wanted me to eat my eggs and get the fuck out, offhand comments about sharing the shower be damned.
“What happened? With the Kimballs?” I prompted him, once the sound of sizzling had started to wear on my nerves.
“Oh, yeah,” Matthew said, as if he’d totally forgotten. “Well, I missed most of it…”
He launched into an explanation of what had happened before he took off after Parker, and what he’d gleaned afterwards about what he’d missed. Our salt circle had caught most of the Kimballs, but not all, and while our side was getting the loose ones subdued Parker had slipped away and gone after me.
Colin and his father got into a shouting match that ended with Colin straight-up challenging his father for pack leadership. Ian had run to Nate, and meanwhile Colin and his father fought it out; Colin won, and at that point he called off the pack war. The Kimballs argued, the salt circle failed, and there was a general fracas that didn’t result in any deaths but left a few weres on either side nursing injuries.
Which brought us to me and Matthew coming back to find Colin and his medic helping Nate, and everyone else retreating to lick their wounds. Colin was, for now, the official pack leader, but he still had to deal with his pack council and assert his control.
But none of that was my problem, and personally, I thought Colin would pull it off. The Kimball council was full of a bunch of spineless cowards, and they’d defer to whichever Kimball came out on top in the family’s infighting.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Matthew said as he slid eggs onto two plates. And then he paused, sighed, and got out two more plates. Nate and Ian’s voices were floating in from the front room. Ugh, we’d have to share our breakfast. “Anyway, I’m going to batten down the hatches and keep quiet. If I try to help Colin take power, it’ll only make him look weak.”
He set a plate with only two eggs in front of me. Damn Nate and Ian anyway. I helped myself to way more than my share of the bacon and stuffed some in my mouth before anyone could stop me.
Ian and Nate stomped in, took their plates from Matthew with barely a grunt of thanks, and settled themselves opposite me; Matthew sat down next to me, and then — yeah, I was going to focus on my food.
Nate kept looking at Matthew and me, smiling weirdly, shaking his head, and stealing bacon off of Ian’s plate. Ian just shoveled his food down without looking at anyone.
I scarfed my own breakfast as quickly as I could, because I couldn’t take much more of this. The hickeys on my neck felt like they were lit up in giant strobing neon lights. Matthew ate methodically at my side, not showing any more signs of wanting to talk than anyone else.
Nate took a swig of his coffee, and the writing on the side of his mug caught my eye. “Does that say The Only Mate I Need Is Coffeemate?”
Ian grunted and rolled his eyes, and Nate grinned. “We have another one that says Not Before Coffee. I’ve been writing on them with Sharpie when the coffee’s brewing in the morning.”
“Ugh,” Ian muttered.
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked.
Ian finally looked at me. “Not not — knot, with a K,” he said, sounding as embarrassed about that as I felt about the state of my neck.
I couldn’t resist needling him — and this couldn’t get more awkward anyway, so I might as well embrace it. “Is that because you always have morning sex?” I asked brightly, with a big smile. “Or is Nate trying to tell you oh-so-subtly that he’d rather wait to get bent over until after the coffee’s already —”
“Okay!” Matthew said loudly, pushing his chair back with a clatter. “We’re done! You can do the dishes, Ian. I cooked.”
Matthew grabbed me by the arm and hauled me out of my chair and out of the kitchen. I was chuckling too much to resist, and Ian was speechless anyway.
Maybe I hadn’t quite gotten my own back for the basement’s shag carpet, but I was on the way. It might even be worth it to hang around the Armitage territory for a while, just to make Ian look like that more often…and with that, my mood plummeted. Matthew had told me that if I wanted to be a pack shaman I should stay here, but that was hardly a warm invitation — and he’d said it in anger.
So many thoughts were spinning through my mind that I hardly noticed getting up the stairs or into Matthew’s bedroom until the door slammed shut behind us and I was spun around and pressed up against it, Matthew leaning down over me, his hands on either side of my head.
“You really know how to press Ian’s buttons,” he said, and I couldn’t read his tone at all.
“He deserves it.” I stared him down without flinching.
“Yeah,” Matthew said quietly, and a smile teased the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, he really does a lot of the time.”
My mouth dropped open in shock, and he took advantage of it to lean down and kiss me, his tongue delving into my mouth and teasing mine.
We made out against the door for an indeterminate while, lost in the play of tongues and the soft sounds of kisses and pleasure trapped in the intimate space between us. Our bodies molded together like they’d never been apart.
One final kiss, and then he leaned his forehead against mine. His eyes were still closed. Gods, he looked exhausted. Those dark bags under his eyes were big enough to travel internationally.
“Shower?” I asked hopefully.
Matthew chuckled. “Shower. And then sleep.” He opened his eyes and smiled at me; his eyes were smiling too, with little crinkles at the corners. Even worn-out and coming down from a night of fighting for his life and a morning of fucking in the woods he was so fucking handsome. It was unfair. “Stay with me?”
Well, how could I say no? I nodded, and he caught me by the hand and led me into the bathroom, his fingers warm and firm around mine.
I didn’t usually shower with other people, even when I was sleeping with them. I liked to linger, soaping every crevice and then letting the water wash down over me endlessly, a soothing, hypnotizing cascade that sluiced away all my thoughts along with the soap and grime.
Matthew turned out to be an excellent shower partner. For one, he let me stand directly under the hot water, exiling himself to the edges of it. Well, not totally exiled. There was barely enough space between our bodies for the water to flow through. But he let me hog the shower. And for two, he didn’t get in my way. He didn’t grope me, or try to wash me, or mess with my hair — which was something I would’ve hated, because I had a system. I was particular about how I got clean, even when I wasn’t in my other form using my tongue.
Instead, he shared the soap and minded his own business, letting me enjoy the warm press of his body while I washed.
I closed my eyes and tipped my head up, allowing the water to course down my chest and rinse away the last of the lather. Billowing steam softened my skin and warmed my lungs. I was in heaven.
Matthew’s chest pressed up against my back. Well, I was done. Why not lean back and lu
xuriate? His chest hair felt even better in the shower. The rest of him wasn’t bad either.
“Ian has really good shampoo,” I said without thinking. “You should get some of that.” He tensed slightly, and I shot an elbow into his ribs. “He wasn’t in the shower with me, asshole. I woke up in his and Nate’s place, where you left me, I might add. Was I supposed to just stay dirty?”
“I didn’t say anything.” Matthew sighed and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Sorry. Our mom gets him that stuff. I guess she thinks I’m enough of a grown-up to get my own.”
“Where are your parents?” I knew Matthew and Ian’s father had been the pack leader at some point, from an offhand comment Sam Kimball had made, but I hadn’t seen or heard any sign of them since I’d been with the Armitages.
“Cabin up north. My dad’s an alright guy but — okay, honestly? He was a terrible pack leader. He hired Jonathan Hawthorne, just for example. And after the pack council strongly suggested he should retire early, they moved. My mom hates pack politics anyway. They’re both happier.”
Matthew’s hand crept down my abdomen, and I squirmed a little. It tickled. My cock was perking up, though, and his was showing definite interest against the small of my back.
“Ask her where she gets it. You’re obviously not grown-up enough to handle your own toiletry purchases.”
I wished I’d bitten my tongue as soon as I heard those words out loud. I might as well have said, Buy better soap because I’m going to be sharing your shower and your bedroom indefinitely. And I’d insulted him, as a bonus.
But Matthew just nuzzled my ear and laughed. “Obviously not.” His hand went lower, wrapping around my growing erection. “I’d rather not talk about my parents right now.”
He stroked me, up and down, slow and even, with a squeeze right below the head thrown in for good measure. “I thought you wanted to sleep.”
“I can multitask.” He reached his other hand between our bodies and pressed his fingertips into the crack of my ass without changing the rhythm of the hand jerking me off. “See? Multitasking.”
“Mmmph,” was all I could manage, and then a longer, drawn-out moan as his fingers found their target.
“I have an even better idea,” he murmured in my ear.
And he went to his knees behind me.
I bit my lip as he parted my cheeks and started to lick. No more moaning. I’d make him think I was easy. He speared my hole with his tongue and ran his thumb over the head of my cock.
Oh, fuck, I was so easy…I moaned, and then whimpered, and then moaned again. This was so much better than simple healing magic, the swipe of his tongue and the gentle caress of his kisses. The lingering soreness made it better, added that tiny frisson of pain to the sweetness of being worshipped like this.
When I came all over his hand and the shower wall, my knees nearly buckled, and I had to slap my hands against the side of the shower to hold myself up, my head hanging down between my heaving shoulders.
Matthew stood, gathered me up, and bundled me out of the shower and into a towel. “Now we’re sleeping,” he said, and leaned down to kiss me. “I’m locking the door. And if you feel like putting some magic on it so anyone who knocks on it for the next few hours gets an electric shock or something, I won’t complain.”
I kissed him back, letting it linger. “Consider it done.” I staggered to the bedroom door, put my hand on it, and concentrated for a minute. “Just a silence ward,” I told him as I turned around. “We won’t be able to hear them knocking. And they’ll maybe get a sense of horrible impending dread when they try the doorknob.”
Matthew tossed his towel onto a chair and collapsed into bed, his eyes closed before he was even horizontal. “Works for me,” he mumbled.
He was already half asleep, his mouth falling open on a soft snore. Gods, that shouldn’t be adorable. Adorable or not, towels couldn’t be left like that. They’d get all mildewed. I wrinkled my nose, sighed, took both our towels into the bathroom like a responsible person, and then crawled into bed next to Matthew.
The bed sucked me down and I was out in seconds.
Chapter 19
Take Me Home
My mistake, it turned out, was forgetting to put silence wards on Matthew’s phone — or to just, you know, silence it.
I woke to buzzing, and then Matthew cursing, and then a heartfelt, “Fuck.” The buzzing stopped. “Yeah, Kimball. What?”
Colin, then. I’d been stretched out on my stomach, and I rolled over and peered up at Matthew. My limbs felt leaden. However long we’d slept, it hadn’t been nearly enough. He looked more or less refreshed, though. Fucking alphas.
I closed my eyes again. Fucking Matthew, fucking Colin. Fucking annoying alphas the both of them. They could deal with each other without my help, since they were apparently able to function without sleep.
Until Matthew said, “Yeah, I can ask him and have him call you back. He’s still here, yeah.”
Oh, gods. Ugh. That meant me.
My eyes popped open again. What did he mean by he’s still here, anyway? Was that a problem or something?
And now there was no way I was going back to sleep. I rolled out of bed and headed into the bathroom to wake up.
When I came out again, Matthew was scowling down at his blank phone screen like it had told him he had fleas.
“Can I use your phone to call him back?” I didn’t have one at the moment, but I’d need to get one. I couldn’t depend on Matthew for my outside communication.
Presuming that I would be staying here, and that there was an ‘inside’ and an ‘outside,’ which was maybe nuts. He hadn’t even kissed me when we woke up. Okay, he was on the phone…but shouldn’t he be kissing me now? Or doing something other than getting pissed someone besides him wanted to talk to me?
Matthew tossed his phone across the bed, still scowling. “Colin wants you to come to the Kimball territory. If you’re going, I should go with you.”
I picked up the phone and turned on the screen. His attitude was rubbing me the wrong way; did he think he owned me now that we’d fucked? “Did he ask you to come? And weren’t you just telling me you needed to keep your distance?”
“I don’t think you should be going anywhere alone —”
Oh, fuck that. He didn’t think I should be able to make my own decisions?
“I think you should mind your own fucking business,” I snapped, and poked the call button with a little more force than I needed to.
Matthew got up and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
It took two minutes to find out what Colin wanted: he needed new wards on the territory, he wasn’t sure about dealing with the spell bags and hoped I could at least supervise their disposal, and the council was giving him trouble about taking over for his father, probably at Bill’s background instigation. Having a shaman backing him up and helping with all the shit the death of their previous shaman had left undone would give him leverage.
And he wasn’t asking for a favor; he wanted to pay standard freelance rates.
I dropped Matthew’s phone back on the bed and looked around. Water was running in the bathroom, and it sounded like maybe Matthew was shaving.
Fuck. I’d left my clothes on the bathroom floor, including my boots.
And I couldn’t deal with this. I opened the window, shifted, and jumped down to the ground. Ten minutes later I was in my car, fully dressed in some of the spare clothes I’d left there, and on my way to the Kimball territory.
I’d stop in Laceyville to get some new boots and a phone. Matthew could kiss my fuzzy bobcat ass — and maybe I’d even let him once he stopped being a controlling douchebag.
***
“Hey, Arik!” Colin said with a smile as I got out of the car, new boots in place and phone in my pocket. “You look good.” He subtly sniffed the air, and his smile wavered. Yeah, I hadn’t cleaned up nearly enough to get rid of the scent of what Matthew and I had done together.
; “I don’t need to look good to fix your territory wards,” I said, maybe a little more sharply than I needed to.
Because what I really didn’t need was another alpha telling me how attractive I was and then acting like a douche.
“Oookay,” Colin said, raising his eyebrows. “Glad you’re recovered from the fight, is all.”
And then I felt like a douche.
I sighed and followed Colin into the house, nodding at a few passing pack members as I did. I could at least try to be polite.
Which…yeah. Trying to be polite lasted me approximately five days.
I’d met with the pack council when I arrived, walked part of the territory boundary with Colin, and tried not to snap at him too much. Being knotted by an alpha could induce a negative reaction to other alphas’ pheromones, but I was edgy even when no other alphas were around.
I slept in a spare room in the pack house, got up early in the morning, and started work on the wards. Adam really had left a lot of loopholes, and it was hard and absorbing work — or would’ve been, if I could’ve fucking focused.
The next days were more of the same, and it started to wear on me. I wasn’t getting any more relaxed, and every time I thought of Matthew — every five minutes, in other words — my stomach clenched with arousal and my teeth started grinding.
On day five I spent all day along the boundary. Colin brought me fresh bags of salt as needed and made attempts at conversation — which consisted mostly of decreasingly subtle questions about my relationship with Matthew.
I cut him off in the middle of asking me whether Matthew had any plans to take a mate anytime soon — because, seriously? Fuck him. If Matthew wanted me as a mate, I’d know but I wouldn’t tell Colin, and if he didn’t, then I wouldn’t know — and told him I needed to be alone to work my shamanic mojo.
Captive Mate (Mismatched Mates Book 2) Page 19
