The Wolf at Bay (Big Bad Wolf)

by Charlie Adhara

  After a moment, when it became clear Park wasn’t going to continue, Cooper pressed. “Was that the ever-helpful Javier?” He worked hard to keep the question banally curious, but when he glanced up, Park’s lips were twitching with repressed amusement. “What did he want?”

  “To be helpful. More or less.” Park shrugged, but one of his hands drifted forward to ghost down Cooper’s spine. Reassuring, comforting.

  “Help you take a roll in his hayride,” Cooper bit out, but even as he did, his hands gentled and dipped lower, playing with the elastic of Park’s sweatpants. He could feel the stir of interest brush teasingly at his wrists. “What did you tell him?”

  “The truth.”

  Cooper hoped Park couldn’t feel his hands tremble. “Which is?”

  “I told him I already had urgent plans.”

  “Oh, do you?” Cooper stiffened and pulled away slightly, only to be trapped by Park’s hand at his back.

  Park skated his nose along Cooper’s jawline, into his hair, inhaling deeply and then back down to nuzzle the sensitive spot behind his ear. “Mmmhmm. I had the middle of a movie to catch.”

  Cooper snorted. “Then I can’t say I’m sorry for interrupting.” He dragged the tips of his fingers down the front of Park’s sweats, tracing the outline of his hardening dick.

  Park fidgeted, chasing Cooper’s fingers, but his face remained unchanged, calm and mildly amused. “Oh, that’s okay. If I’m really, really lucky I’ll make it just in time for the end.”

  “The hell you will.” Cooper growled, shoved Park back, and dropped to his knees. He pushed his face against Park’s groin, breathing in the familiar musk of his arousal, and mouthed along his dick through the fabric.

  Park huffed and ran his hand gently through Cooper’s hair, just long enough to get a good grip in. He’d need to get it cut soon. Certainly before he saw his dad. Not that he had any plans to see his father soon. But the recently retired Sheriff Dayton had been phoning about three times a day for the last week, and Cooper couldn’t dodge his calls forever. That kind of persistence usually meant he was going to successfully guilt Cooper into a visit.

  “Hey.” Park pulled his hips away. “Where did you go?”

  “I’m right here. Who else’s mouth did you think was on your dick?”

  “Jealous, Agent Dayton?”

  Cooper looked away from Park’s too-knowing gaze and pushed his face into the crease of his groin and thigh. “Why would I be?”

  Park couldn’t pull back again with the desk pressing into his ass, so he gently pushed Cooper’s face away, thumb on his chin.

  Cooper sighed pointedly. He could usually count on sex with Park as the one thing that reliably turned his mind off. If he was busy fucking he couldn’t be expected to do anything else, like fix things or talk. But lately even these precious, simple moments were being interrupted by his mind pinballing around all the things he tried to avoid. And Park wasn’t helping.

  “I don’t know,” Park said delicately, like he was picking his words carefully, keeping his tone intentionally light. “Shall we examine the clues? You ran off in the lobby when Javier started flirting with me. You were skulking in the hallway.” Cooper started to protest but Park cut him off, saying, “I could hear you. And then you kicked in my door ’cause you thought you heard a knock.”

  Cooper made a face at him, embarrassed and annoyed. Time to get Park back on track and off focusing on him. He dipped his head so that Park’s thumb slid across his mouth. He licked the pad and murmured, “You want to solve a mystery now, Scooby-Doo? Really?” He bit the thumb gently, enjoying the sound of Park’s breath hitching.

  “I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about something...”

  This was the opening Cooper should have been looking for. But if it didn’t go well...and if he didn’t get the answer he wanted...and if...and if...

  Avoid, avoid, avoid, his heart beat. He felt another wave of longing for the peace of single-minded, no-expectations sex.

  “Mmmhmm. Okay.” Cooper slipped his lips around Park’s thumb and sucked, looking up at Park in what he hoped was an alluring way, though an ex had once told him the wide-eyed thing just made him look like a terrified squirrel getting some bad news. Definitely not the image he was going for when trying to get his face fucked.

  He worked his tongue around Park’s thumb and tried to inject some sultry knowingness into his eyes.

  Unbelievably, Park was still talking, though admittedly his voice was a bit ragged. “...I mean, if there’s anything you want to say about something...”

  Cooper released Park’s thumb with a pop. “Christ, you don’t quit. Like a dog with a bone.”

  “Wolf with a bone,” Park corrected, patting his own dick in his pants. “I just don’t want you to think—”

  “Yes, I agree!” Cooper interrupted. “I don’t want me to think either.” He softened his tone and slid his hands slowly up Park’s thighs. “The only mystery I want to work on right now is the mystery of Agent Park, in the motel room”—he pulled Park’s sweatpants down, freeing his dick to bob in interest—“with the candlestick.”

  Park laughed. “God, you’re a dork—”

  He choked off when Cooper guided Park’s dick to his lips and whimpered at the familiar taste. He kissed and licked the head before working about half of Park’s length into his mouth, the other half covered by his fist. His left hand reached around to brush the bottom of Park’s ass teasingly.

  “Good, that’s good,” Park said, and ran his hand gently through Cooper’s hair. Cooper didn’t want to go down that mental road again. Instead he concentrated on the quivering muscles of Park’s thighs as he resisted thrusting, the weight of Park on his tongue, filling his mouth, the heat, and pulse of his taint beneath his fingers.

  Cooper looked up at Park. His eyes were closed and his head was to the side in an almost quizzical tilt. What was he thinking about? Who was he thinking about?

  Cooper felt a spike of possessiveness and annoyance. He pulled his mouth off slowly and tapped the back of Park’s balls until his eyes opened and he looked down at Cooper.

  “Watch me,” Cooper demanded. He rubbed the head over his lips and then tapped it against his tongue. Park growled so low in his throat, Cooper swore he could feel it in his bones. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Not in fear. Not exactly, anyway. Not in a way he could ever explain without Park getting that puckered, worried look. But there was vulnerability there. And that frightened Cooper still.

  He licked a long stripe up the underside of Park’s shaft. “Mine,” he whispered.

  He felt Park’s whole body twitch, and looked up to catch a strange expression flicker across his face. His eyes were unnaturally dilated and gleaming. Well, natural for him. But Cooper had an even harder time reading him than usual when he was like this.

  “Yours,” Park said, voice gruff, restrained.

  Cooper groaned and worked Park’s cock into his throat as far as he could this time. Park’s fingers traced the corners of Cooper’s lips where they stretched around his dick.

  “So pretty,” he murmured. He nudged Cooper’s crotch with his bare foot, and Cooper almost choked. “Take it out. You want me to watch you, then show me how much you like this.”

  Cooper hurriedly ripped off his jacket and shirt, undid his jeans, and shuffled them and his underwear down his thighs while Park watched. He groaned again with the wave of relief when he took himself in hand and stroked.

  Park guided his dick back into Cooper’s mouth and began to thrust shallowly. Cooper’s other hand grabbed Park’s meaty ass, squeezed, and tugged. His fingers slipped into the crack, searching until he found Park’s hole and pressed against the flinching muscle.

  Park snarled, “Yes,” and Cooper bobbed his head further, encouraging Park to go deeper, to take over and drive the obsessive
thoughts away.

  Park took a gentle but unrelenting grasp of the back of Cooper’s head, stilling his movement, and began to fuck his face in earnest. Park knew by now exactly how much Cooper could take, not all but enough, and controlled the depth with a level of precision and care that made Cooper moan, the sound wet, muffled, obscene.

  He was pulling desperately at his own dick now, matching Park’s pace.

  “Fuck, Cooper, I—” Park’s broken voice was all the warning Cooper got before his mouth flooded with Park’s orgasm, fingers tightening in his hair. He greedily tried to swallow as much as possible, but some still dribbled out the corners, down his chin. He licked up what had spilled down Park’s cock.

  When he was done, Cooper looked up to find Park watching him, eyelids so low they might have been closed except for the gold glimmer beneath dark lashes. His face was unmoving and unnerving.

  “Oliver?” Cooper questioned, voice all spit and grit, his throat wrecked.

  Park shook his head like he was waking up from a trance. He slid to his knees in front of Cooper, hand still gripping his hair. He pulled Cooper’s head back gently, angling his face up, and examined it.

  “Messy,” Park said, and Cooper whimpered.

  Park wiped his fingers across Cooper’s lips and chin, collecting the trails of come and spit there, and brought them down to Cooper’s leaking dick, knocking Cooper’s own hand away and taking hold firmly. He lowered his mouth down to the long line of Cooper’s exposed throat and grazed his teeth across the tendon.

  “My mess,” Park said into his skin. So softly Cooper wasn’t sure he heard it.

  One, two, three hard strokes, and Cooper’s orgasm ripped through him almost violently, shouting and thrusting through Park’s slick fingers. Park’s hand released his hair and slid down to support the small of his back, holding their bodies firmly together. Cooper’s head flopped forward onto Park’s warm shoulder. His gasps slowed to fast breathing, which eventually relaxed into deep, shaky inhales where he could smell the heady mix of Park’s skin, sweaty T-shirt, and sex.

  He became aware of Park’s hand stroking up and down his back, from the top of his neck to the bottom curve of his ass. Gentle, soothing, protective.

  Cooper pulled away, avoiding Park’s eyes. “I should, uh, take a shower.”

  He slipped out of Park’s hold and pulled his pants back up with a disgusted wince, then got up and hurried into the bathroom, closing the door. He hesitated over the lock. He wanted desperately to be alone, but locking it seemed like a slap in the face if Park heard it and wasn’t even intending to follow. And of course he would hear it.

  Cooper left it untouched and hurried out of his clothes and into the shower, turning the temperature up to blistering heat. Hotel water always got so much hotter than his own apartment’s, but he didn’t feel as appreciative as usual.

  He felt raw. A stripped wire, exposed, delicate and flinching. It wasn’t...bad. But it triggered his need for space. As if one touch or one word would zap them both.

  Or worse, he’d cave and say something stupid.

  People got a free pass for the shit they say during sex. That was just common courtesy. But directly afterwards was the most dangerous time for Cooper, and before he admitted anything, he had to be sure he wasn’t alone.

  He aggressively scrubbed hotel shampoo through his hair and then down his body. Desert Rose. It smelled like every other generic soap out there. How many hotels had he and Park shared together in the last four months? There’d been a lot. A lot of solved cases, done by the book, including today, though perhaps it wasn’t as clean a finish as Cooper would have liked. Whatever his colleagues said, they were good partners. In the field, and in bed.

  Frankly, Cooper had been in committed, monogamous relationships with a lot less chemistry, so why was it so hard to say he wanted something like that for them? They had fun together. Wanting to continue that fun under a different name—or any name, really—shouldn’t be such a big deal.

  It’s not like he was saying he was in love or anything. He didn’t love Park. He’d only met the guy a few months ago and knew almost nothing about him. That would be totally crazy. They got along well and he wanted to find out if Park planned on them continuing to get along well for the foreseeable future, or if he was interested in getting along well with anyone else. Because if not, Cooper wanted to know now before he started to really feel for the guy. And that was it. Right?

  Cooper finished and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist. He was grateful Park had left him alone and given him space to recover himself. He always did without complaint, even though he knew Park liked to be physically affectionate post-sex. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it? If Park just wanted a fuck buddy, there were lower maintenance options all over the place. In fact, one was just a shout away, wandering the halls and “ooo-ing” like the Ghost of Christmas Ass. Cooper bet perfect-brows Javier wouldn’t run out on a cuddle.

  He grimaced and went back into the bedroom. Park was sitting on the bed, Cooper’s jacket in his lap. He was playing with the holes where Fasser’s claws had ripped through the material, beneath the arm, but he wasn’t looking at it, just staring thoughtfully toward the huge window. The tip of his tongue traced the scar on his upper lip.

  Cooper sat beside Park on the bed and touched his shoulder lightly. Just say it, Dayton. What’s the worst that could happen?

  “Par—Oliver, I actually do want to talk to you. About before...” He took a deep breath.

  “You told me you wouldn’t go in alone,” Park said.

  Cooper swallowed his words, completely thrown off balance. He hurriedly tried to recalibrate. “That’s not what I—we already talked about this,” he said slowly, frustrated that Park, usually so in tune with his needs, had chosen this moment to misunderstand him. A small, frightened part of him wondered if it was intentional. Wondered if he was being cut off before he began to mercifully save them both the humiliation of unrequited...interest. “I told you I saw Simpson closing suspiciously early. I went in to stall.”

  “You knew I was on my way with the search warrant. You should have waited for me. Like we said.”

  “Like you said.”

  Park looked at him at last, brow furrowed. “I didn’t realize you had a problem with my authority.”

  Cooper sputtered. “Your authority?”

  “I didn’t mean—” Park’s face was regretful, but it was too late.

  “Is that who you are? My boss? My alpha?” That was a low blow.

  He flinched like Cooper knew he would. Park avoided all language that could be considered animalistic. His ex-pack was his “family who he had grown apart from.” His daily need to shift was “getting a run in.” And the “A-word” was just a big fat no-fly zone. And not because it wasn’t applicable.

  Cooper wasn’t an idiot. Most of the time. He had seen the way other Trust members treated Park. Wary respect. Some with deference. Others avoidance. Park and Agent Chan in particular went out of their way to not cross paths.

  “I like her a lot,” Park had explained when Cooper commented on it, wondering if there was bad blood there. “I respect her. We just have a couple of big personalities and that doesn’t always...mesh.”

  Cooper’s eyebrows had shot off his face. Amy Chan was the most stone-faced, humorless, and quiet person Cooper had ever met. She was also the best interrogator they had. Sometimes all she had to do was walk into the room and the suspect would start confessing. Must be that big personality.

  She’d always been polite, if a bit standoffish, with Cooper, though. All the Trust people were. Despite having more reason to hate him, the wolf agents never once gave Cooper shit the way his own fellow human BSI agents did. Cooper had asked Park about it once, half-joking, relaxed, fucked-out and naked in bed around the second week of them being partners. “Is that because of you? Have you stuck some kin
d of ‘No Trespassing, Property of’ sign on my back?”

  Cooper never forgot the look of horror on Park’s face. “I have not once thought of you like that,” he finally said brusquely, rolling away from Cooper and avoiding his eyes.

  Cooper felt like Park had sucker-punched him. “Right. Of course. I was just joking.” And he sort of had been.

  About the sign.

  But that look of revulsion, quickly masked, was as clear a rejection as Cooper needed.

  That isn’t what this is. Don’t get attached.

  Cooper had never tried to reference or clarify their sexual relationship again.

  Until now.

  He hadn’t even gotten close to the topic and Park had that familiar look of horror on again. Because of the “A-word”? Or because Cooper had dared hint that there was something else between them besides work and sex?

  Cooper pushed the panic back and tried to rewind, laugh it off. “So if you’re my alpha does that mean I’m in your pack now? What are the health benefits like? Paid vacation?”

  “No! Of course not. You know we’re not...like that,” Park said, and this time he didn’t go with the joke.

  Because he doesn’t want you to embarrass yourself hoping for more.

  “No, of course not.” The bitterness in Cooper’s voice clunked out and fell flat between them like a bat making contact with the ball all wrong. Ugly, weak, and dead on impact.

  Park must have heard it, too, of course he did, because when he spoke again his voice was gentle and unsure. “You’re my partner, Cooper. I don’t—I respect you...as my partner. I don’t think of you like a—in that way. Our...” Park paused and then gestured between them. “This other stuff doesn’t change that.”

  The hurt, confusion, and disappointment all clamored to the surface, wanting to be the first out of Cooper’s mouth. He pushed everything aside to deal with later, in private, and latched on to the anger. He always did.