Bite

Bite

Other Sean Michael Novels The Jarheads Series: Don't Ask, Don't Tell Personal Leave Three Day Passes Tempering Out of the Closet On the Sand Going for the Gold Making a Splash: A Going for the Gold Novel Perfect Ten: A Going for the Gold Novel Personal Best I: A Going for the Gold Novel Personal Best II: A Going for the Gold Novel Contemporary Amnesia • Between Friends The Broken Road • Catching a Second Wind Secrets, Skin and Leather Tripwire • Two Beginnings Fantasy and Paranormal Bite • Caged • Chosen • Fantasy's Hand Need • A Private Hunger Velvet Glove, Volume I Where Flows the Water • Windbrothers Anthologies Bus Stories and Other Tales Cowboy Up edited by Rob Knight Galleons & Gangplanks, editor Rob Knight Shifting, Volumes I-III, edited by Rob Knight Torqued Tales, edited by SA Clements Available at Torquere Press & fine booksellers

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher. Bite TOP SHELF An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers PO Box 2545 Round Rock, TX 78680 Copyright 2007 © by Sean Michael Cover illustration by Rose Lenoir Published with permission ISBN: 978-1-60370-220-1, 1-60370-220-2 www.torquerepress.com All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. First Torquere Press Printing: December 2007 Printed in the USA

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Chapter One Fuck, his head was pounding. Anton stepped out of the shower and searched blindly for a towel. He'd not bothered with the lights as they just made his head pound worse. Really, he needed to find a proper cure for a hangover. Or possibly to drink less. Still, the party had droned on and on and he'd been bored out of his mind. At the time, the pounding of his skull had seemed like a small price to pay for drinking himself into a stupor. He dried off, shaved blindly, and pulled his hair back into as tight a tail as he could stand, wrapping a silver clasp around it. Silk underwear felt good against his skin, smooth and easy, his dress slacks topped with a turtleneck sweater. Just because he felt like hell, didn't mean he needed to look like it. Anton ventured out of his room, frowning as the pounding in his head doubled when he stepped into the hall. The marble tile was cool under his bare feet -- it felt good actually, but he should have put on socks, shoes, like a civilized person. 4

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God fucking damn it, he wished the pounding in his head would stop. It did, only to start up again a moment later and if he hadn't worried about how much it would hurt, Anton would have shaken his head. Someone was knocking on the front door. He wondered where Jackson had fucked off to, that the man couldn't answer the door, as he went to do it himself. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, blinking at the man standing in the hallway. "Last time I checked, I was Greg. Anna sent me. Said you needed a new chef." The brightest, sharpest blue eyes he'd ever seen stared out from under dark hair with bleached tips. "You're a cook?" This guy didn't look like any chef he'd ever seen. "Yep. Anna said she sent my resume." Ink, goatee, pierced ear -- this was a rock star. He imagined Jackson had indeed seen the resume. He also imagined there hadn't been a picture attached. He stared at the tattoo, the red heart, blue bird and sexy sailor almost... old-fashioned. The little diamond in the man's ear twinkled at him. "Well I guess you'd better come in then." He stepped away from the door. "Thanks, dude. You the boss?" 5

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"I am." And he'd have been calling for Jackson to get his ass out here and do his job, except Anton had a feeling any attempt at raising his voice would find the top of his head exploding. "Are you a good cook?" he asked, leading the way past the elegant decor and expensive furniture to the large, bright -- Jesus Christ it was bright -- kitchen. "Nope. I'm a fucking exceptional cook. Nice set up." The guy -- Greg was it? -- looked around, opening drawers and cabinets and the refrigerator. "Fucking exceptional are you? I'll be the judge of that." He sat, enjoying the natural ease and confidence Greg displayed. It was obvious the man was at home in the kitchen. "What do you know about hangover cures?" "Menudo is common in Latino cultures. Bloody Marys help. You need some red meat most, though. Get those B vitamins in. You want a burger?" Anton's mouth watered. "A burger?" His last chef would only offer a vile concoction as a hangover cure and had constantly chastised him for eating too much red meat. "Yep. You like 'em medium rare. There's a hunk of roast in here, I'll grind it up." An apron went on, hands washed and then things started sort of 'happening'. A hamburger, cooked just as he liked it, and made out of roast instead of the crap they called hamburger meat. His stomach growled and the pounding actually thought about backing off. "How did you know I like my meat medium rare?" 6

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"Is there another way to eat a burger?" Meat and onions, eggs, oil, tomato juice and celery were gathered up. "Not in a civilized world." It was rather fascinating to watch Greg work. Like a dance. It took a bit of searching on Greg’s part, but he got a Bloody Mary, celery stick to stir, then a long roll of knives appeared, the roast cubed with expert slices. He idly stirred the celery stick, staring at the drink, his stomach not at all sure this was what he wanted to do. The meat looked good though. "Drink it. It'll help." The onions smelled fabulous as they hit the pan. One of his eyebrows rose at the order, but he decided to follow it anyway. It was either that or make an ungraceful dash into the bathroom off the kitchen and lose the contents of his stomach. He took the celery stick out of the drink and sucked it clean. Oh, now, that held promise. Taking a mouthful of the Bloody Mary, he held it in his mouth for a moment, the tomato sharp and bright. It threatened for just a moment to come racing back up, but then it settled and he took another mouthful, eyes closing as the nausea began to back off. Then there was a burger on a toasted bun. Simple. Classic. Smelling perfect. Okay, so he was impressed. Hung over, and yet he was all 7

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but salivating over the food in front of him. He wasn't going to let Greg know that, though. He took another sip of the Bloody Mary, eyeing the burger. "It's an unusual breakfast, but it works. You a big breakfast man, or just Danish?" "I like meat with all my meals." He decided he'd tortured himself with the smell for long enough and grabbed the burger, taking a huge bite. Oh, fuck him. It was good. Fucking good. "Excellent. I'll make some basic menus, find out your likes and dislikes." "I throw a lot of parties, dinners, teas." He had a reputation to uphold, even if the parties tended to bore him out of his skull. The chef before the last one had been fired because she just couldn't keep up with the demand. "Excellent. I don't do pastries, much. Do you have a bakery to deal with?" "You'd have to ask Jackson. I just tell people what I want and they make it happen." He finished the burger in four more bites. He was very impressed. Not to mention feeling a hundred times better. Almost human even. "I can do that." Greg put the kitchen back in order. "You're pretty efficient." "I am. I'm talented and good-looking too. Not particularly 8

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quiet, though, and I can't sing worth a shit." "You forgot modest." Not that the man was wrong. He was very good looking. In an edgy sort of way. "I'm not modest." That got a chuckle out of him. "No. No, you're not." He licked his lips. "Did you want to see your room?" All his staff lived in. Well, except for Rosa. She had a family and came in four days a week to clean. "I do, thanks. I brought a few boxes in my car." "Jackson will get you a key." He stood and stretched, feeling definitely better. "Cool. What do you expect, or is that a Jackson question?" "Hmm... you probably should speak to Jackson about that. You'll become familiar with what I expect over time." He gave Greg a slow once-over. Now that his head and belly were no longer revolting, the rest of him was paying attention, noticing the sexy chef. "Cool. This'll work out, man. I'm a kick-ass chef." "Well your first offering certainly receives top marks." He used the door at the far end of the kitchen that led to the staff rooms. The chef's room was the first door on the left. Anton stopped in front of it and nodded. "Jason, my personal assistant has the room next to yours, and Jackson has the 9

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suite at the far end. There is an intercom in each room. Do not page me ever unless absolutely necessary. I am not pleasant when woken." "I'm a chef, not a bother. You'll never see me." That would be a shame. "I however, am a bother and you will see me. Possibly more than you wish to. I can have a voracious appetite." For meat of all sorts. His eyes drifted down again, wondering what the clothes hid. "I'll make sure to keep things available in the fridge for you. You have a lot of parties, yeah? Are you a big shindig guy or an intimate dinner party type?" "Oh, mostly big noisy affairs with a ton of people. Even my dinner parties are expansive." And that way he wasn't stuck making small talk with one or two people. "Good to know. I'll do some planning." Greg gave him a grin, slow and sultry. "I like to be able to offer my guests something different -we get fed the same old shit over and over again at these things." He allowed himself to smile back, breathing in deeply, picking up the scent of the man. "You like themes? Haute cuisine? Wild foods?" "Each party will have its own needs. I like variety, and as I said, something different. Wild foods? That sounds intriguing." 10

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"It's my specialty -- wild game, interesting preparations." Those bleached curls just bounced. "You have any allergies?" "I won't eat wolf or dog. Otherwise, it sounds rather fascinating." Wild food. He hadn't had any game since his last change in the woods several years ago. He'd refused to be caught outside of the city limits since then, especially during the full moon. "I don't cook canines. Cats either. Nothing illegal." "Cats aren't worth the trouble." He winked, letting Greg think he was joking. It was true, though, they were stringy and furry and awful. Greg chuckled, nodded. "Way stringy, man." One of his eyebrows went up. Now how did Greg know that? His head went up, and he scented again before he even realized what he was doing. With an internal growl, he stopped. That was the uncivilized part of him. He opened the door of Greg's room. "You have your own ensuite, though there's a shared bathroom at the end of the hall, and of course you have the run of the kitchen. If there's anything in the room you don't like, just tell Jackson and he'll change it for you." The staff rooms were amply furnished, if a tad impersonal. "Sure." Greg wandered in, moving gracefully, easily around the room. Oh, the way that man moved was intriguing. 11

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He felt his interest flare in his eyes and he looked down. "Not bad." One hand slid along the bedpost. "Not bad at all." Anton licked his lips, watching the sensuality of the move. "No, not bad at all." He could see Greg, suddenly, spread and begging for him, hips shifting against him. The imagine made him groan, his knees suddenly weak. He sagged against the wall. "You okay?" Greg came close, nostrils flaring. "Yeah. Yeah. I just..." Lost control for a second. Damn it. One hand landed on his arm. "Should I call someone?" He took a deep breath, and shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Too much alcohol last night and I guess your cure was only temporary." "Well, you want me to help you get somewhere, man?" He was fine now, and he opened his mouth to say so. "Sure, that'd be great." "Sure. Where?" A soft, light touch trailed down his back, petting him. He shivered, and had to stop himself from pushing back into the touch. What was wrong with him? Where was his control? 12

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"There's a passage." He nodded back toward the kitchen. "At the back of the pantry that goes back to my rooms." "Oh? Wow. Secret passages to visit me. Cool." Greg let him lean hard, the compact body surprisingly strong. And lean he did, shamelessly taking advantage of Greg's kindness. He kept telling himself he'd straighten and make it the rest of the way on his own; after all, there wasn't really anything more wrong with him than a sudden flow of his blood southward. But instead he continued to lean. "I can reach most points of the apartment easily from my rooms." "That's neat. Did you make it that way or did it come like that?" "I had it built like that. I found a delicious architect." Delicious, with sweet eyes, and who'd given a little squeak every time he'd been bitten. "Very cool. Where's the door?" "Back of the pantry. There's an indentation behind the spice bottles." The passage was dark, but as soon as they stepped in, little lights lit up along the floor. "Jesus, this is like magic." Greg laughed, following the lights. "Like something out of an old fairy story." Just like he was. 13

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It was fitting somehow. "Yeah." In this close quarter, Greg's scent was heady. Strong. The urge to push Greg up against the wall and devour him was strong. Very strong. But he fought his animal instincts every day, and he would not let them overwhelm him now, no matter how sexy the man in question. Instead he sped up, pushing the door to his rooms open, stepping out into the curtained bedroom. "Bed or the cushy chair?" The bed hadn't been made yet so he nodded toward the chair. "Thank you," he murmured as he sat. Disappointed cut through him as they lost body contact. "You're welcome, man. You sure I can't get you something?" He could see the bulge in Greg's trousers, smell the hint of latent arousal. He licked his lips, keeping his eyes lowered to that bulge so Greg couldn't see their glow as his own arousal flared again. There was something Greg could give him. It was right there at eye level. "You okay?" One hand fell on his shoulder. Anton wanted nothing more than to pounce the man. However. He was not uncivilized. Not to mention so far Greg was sounding better and better as a chef and he didn't want to lose the man because he was being too forward. He took a couple of deep breaths, and hoped it was enough to 14

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have banked the fire in his eyes, then he looked up to meet Greg's gaze. "I am." "Good." The smile he received was warm, seductive. "You feel better. I'll go unpack my car." "Thank you, Greg. And for the burger earlier." He gave Greg a smile as warm as the one he'd received. "You'll get more." His arm was patted, Greg disappearing through the door. He watched he man go, enjoying the sight of that ass until it was gone. Then he stretched and grinned, wondering if Greg was as delicious as the food he served.

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Chapter Two He mounded the berry compote onto the silver plate, the tiny individual cream cakes carefully arranged. There. Done. Greg sent the desserts out with Sarah and Lindsay, Rosa's nieces, all dressed up in their little black and white uniforms. Jesus. Three weeks of this and he was... Well. Feeling very confident. He nodded to the two little teenagers who were washing dishes and went to grab a beer. The boss' party was in full swing, all sorts of laughing and tinkling silverware going on in there. He? He was officially off work. 16

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Speaking of the boss, Anton came in, looking unbelievably good in a tux, his hair pulled back. Growling and grumbling, the man went to the fridge and poked around. "Stay out of my stores, bossman." He leaned back against the pantry, grinned. Anton looked over at him, an eyebrow quirking. "Your stores?" "Yep. I order it. I mete them out. Mine mine mine." He chuckled around the mouth of his beer. Anton watched him drink, waited until he was done before answering him. "I pay for them. Mine. Mine. Mine." Greg grinned, rolled his eyes. "What did you need, man? Was something missing from the meal?" "I was trapped by an overly enthusiastic young lady." Anton rolled his eyes. "Oh, dude. You missed the filet? That's a shame." "I don't suppose there's any of it left?" Anton made eyes at him. "I suppose I can make you one, even if I'm off the clock." He chuckled and headed for the fridge. Spoiled man. Anton's face lit up and he went and sat on one of the stools at the island. "Haven't you realized yet that you're never truly off the clock? My appetites can't tell time." 17

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"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just haven't trained them yet." He heated his pan for the sear. "There are some leftover potatoes. Do you want them?" Anton shook his head. "No, I'm good with just the meat. If you had two pieces..." "There probably are, yeah." His boss was all about the protein. "Rare, yes?" "As usual." Anton pulled at his bow-tie, growling a little. "It'll be five minutes, man." Rock salt. Pepper. Sear. He did love his equipment. The tie came off and then Anton sighed and put it back around his neck, doing it back up again with tight little movements. "I don't understand why dressing well always involves strangling oneself." "Don't ask me. I'm not the tie type. I'm the tattoos and leather type." "Mmm... I do love the smell of leather. And I bet that would be a far different party than this one." "You know it, bossman. My parties are very different than yours." Incredibly. Man, he needed to get laid in the worst way. "Will the meat be long?" Anton asked, getting up and wandering restlessly around the kitchen. "The moon's almost full." 18

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"Two minutes. Are you into the moon, man?" He knew lots of people who were. Anton looked out the window, and loosened his tie again, taking it off altogether. "Yes." The word was little more than a growl. "Cool." He found a plate in the warmer, swirled a little brown butter down on it, and slid the steaks on. Anton strode back as soon as he'd plated the steaks, all but grabbing the plate from him. "Easy, man. You want some berries and cream for dessert?" "Depends." Anton sat and cut each fillet into four, and then speared each piece, barely seeming to chew before he swallowed it down. "On what?" Christ, wolf it down. Those dark grey eyes met his, almost glowing. "On how it's being served." "Your guests got it on a silver platter..." Sex on a stick. Anton looked at his plate like he was going to lick it clean. Of course when the man looked back up at him, Anton wore that same look. "I prefer a more personal service." "More personal?" Was he being flirted with? 19

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"Indeed. More personal. You are my chef after all, are you not?" Anton's gaze was intense. "That's what it says on the job description, bossman..." The question was, did Anton play the same games he did? Oh man, look at the way those eyes caught the light. "Then feed me some of these berries and cream." He headed to the refrigerator, found the leftovers and a plate. "You want to do this here, with everyone watching?" Anton glanced around the room, looking surprised when his eyes lighted on the kids doing the dishes and jabbering quietly together. "No. My rooms." "I..." He stopped, met Anton's eyes. "Is this going to lose me my job here? I'm off the clock for this, you know?" Anton's eyes flashed. "This has nothing to do with your job." Just listen to that growl. "Good answer." There was a little voice in the back of his head going, 'wait, what are you doing, are you stupid?' It was completely drowned out by the voice singing the 'we're getting laid' song. Anton stalked into the pantry and opened the hidden door, disappearing down the corridor. He followed, berries in hand, trying hard not to spill any. When he got to Anton's room, it was lit solely by the moon shining through the open window, and the dancing flames in the fireplace. 20

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Anton himself lounged in the middle of the large chair, one leg flung over the chair's arm. There was an air of the predator emanating from the man. "So, how do you want to do this? You just want a bite?" Anton shifted, sitting up in the chair and patting his lap. "Have a seat and feed me properly, Greg. Though I won't forget your offer to bite." Oh, hell. That was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. He just stared, caught in the look in Anton's eyes. Anton licked his lips. "Anytime." "Sorry. Sorry, I... You have fascinating eyes." He headed over, bowl in hand. His words seemed to make Anton's eyes glow deeper -- it was amazing how they reflected the flames like that. Greg stepped forward, lips parted, the scent of berries strong on his nose. Mmm. He fit wonderfully, right there, right on Anton's thigh. One of Anton's hands landed on top of his thigh, curling around it. The man's eyes glowed beneath half-closed lids, lips dark and shining where they'd been licked. He spread a little, slipping a bite of dessert in Anton's lips. "Open up." Anton opened up for the bite, eyes holding his as Anton slowly pulled the fruit and cream off the spoon. That pink tongue came out again, licking the corners of Anton's lips. 21

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"Is it good?" Like he didn't know it was. Good. "I'm not sure. I'll need another taste." That deep voice was low and quiet, intimate. Shivers climbed up his belly. "I can do that." One more spoonful slipped into the open lips. "Mmm... I think I like it, but I need one more taste." Anton's hand stopped his. "Without the spoon this time." "You want me to use my fingers? They're slick." "Your fingers are one option." He scooped up a raspberry, placing it on Anton's tongue. Anton's lips closed over the tip of his finger, holding it for just a second, hot tongue flicking across the top before Anton leaned back and ate at the berry. Oh, fuck, that was hot. Like really. "I'm liking it better with every taste." "Mmm. You want a strawberry?" Greg dug one out, holding it carefully. "Not from your fingers." Anton's gaze moved from the strawberry to his mouth. 22

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"Perv." He let himself grin, wink. Then he leaned forward, strawberry caught in his lips. "You don't know the half of it," whispered Anton just before sharp teeth caught hold of the strawberry. Anton bit into the fruit, their lips pressing together as Anton chewed. He took a quick swipe of Anton's lips with his tongue, before backing off, teasing. Groaning, Anton leaned forward, eyes just shining. "It's good. But I believe I like the taste of the chef better than his wares." "Oh, man. Is that good or bad?" He rubbed noses with Anton, took a quick, quick kiss. Anton chuckled, the sound deep and sexy, running along his spine like a touch. "It's good." Fingers slid behind his head, held it in place as Anton leaned forward and brought their mouths together. The kiss started slow, almost tame, Anton seeming to search for something in his eyes. Anton's tongue was hot, wet, as it slid across his lips, but didn't demand entrance. Not yet. He touched the tip of Anton's tongue with his own, just barely tapping it before pulling away. Groaning, Anton pressed their lips harder together, and now his tongue pushed against his lips. Greg dove into the kiss, pushing Anton back against the chair, fucking the soft lips with his tongue, curious to see whether Anton would fight back. The groan turned into a growl, Anton's tongue tangling with his as they wrestled for control of the kiss. 23

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Fucking hot. Greg loved an alpha male that could take what he needed. Loved it. Of course, that didn't mean it should be fucking easy. Greg pushed closer, fingers tangling in Anton's heavy, thick hair. Anton bucked up against him, free hand sliding down to grab his ass. The other stayed on the back of his head, tilting it to give Anton better access as he took control of the kiss. Yes. He wrapped his lips around Anton's lips, sucking hard. Anton's tongue swept through his mouth, the hand on his ass squeezing, rubbing him against the strong thigh he straddled. If he wasn't careful, he'd cream his checks, right there. Damn. Anton's hand opened and closed, and then suddenly the man growled and twisted, putting him on the chair with Anton above him, the kiss going fierce. Jesus. How did he... How did... "Oh." He opened up, hips bucking so that they could rub together, push and pull and hump. Anton thrust against him, their crotches rubbing, hardness on hardness with too much fucking clothing between them. That wasn't bad. Wasn't bad at all. His toes curled and he groaned, balls drawing up like stones. Just like that. The boss nipped at his lower lip, and then grabbed it and tugged on it, sucking as their hips kept humping. Shit. He was going to embarrass himself. He reached down, got his hand between them, grabbing Anton and letting himself back off a little. 24

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Growling, Anton pushed into his hand and bit at his lip. "Naked. Now." "Bossy." He bit back, eyes rolling a little. "Make me." The light in Anton's eyes seemed to flare, the man's growling getting louder. "Be careful what you ask for." "What fun is that?" Laughing, Anton bit at his neck, fingers digging into his chef's jacket, ripping the buttons open with a hard tug. "You'll have to replace that!" The bite made his cock jerk, throb. Anton laughed again, and bent to bite at his nipple, teeth sharp and sure. Greg bucked, the sting and burn perfect. Hot. Just what he needed. His other nipple was bitten, and Anton grabbed his checks, the material giving way as Anton tore it. Jesus, the man was strong. Greg was not paying for those repairs. Not not not. Of course, another bite and he was just flying, the burn and ache making his prick throb. "Made you," muttered Anton from the vicinity of his belly, teeth threatening next to his navel. "Huh?" His fucking head was swimming. 25

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"Made you get naked." Anton's teeth snapped and then closed over his hip, biting hard. "Jesus!" He shot, spunk spraying over Anton's cheek and shoulder. "Mmm... fuck, you smell amazing." Anton wiped his cheek and then put his hands in his mouth, sucking the come right off them. "I. Damn." Greg nodded, blinking, watching. Anton rose up over him, gaze intense. "I want you." "Uh-huh." Whatever. He was still floating. Anton slid back down his body to kneel between his legs, and then his ass was tilted, Anton's tongue -- hot and wet -sliding along his crack. "Anton!" His eyes went wide, one leg pulling up. Oh, fuck him. A low growl vibrated against his skin, Anton pressing close, tongue sliding over his hole. He almost crawled up the chair back, the sensations just driving him nuts. Anton's hands wrapped around his thighs and held him in place, that tongue sliding again and again, and then pushing in without warning. "Fuck! Fuck!" His muscles went tight, heels thrumming on the chair. Head turning, Anton bit the inside of his thigh, tongue 26

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sliding over his skin before going back to pushing into his body. Greg was going to fucking lose it, and he'd already come. Hard. That tongue fucked him, over and over, driving him out of his mind. Without warning, it stopped, Anton surging up, cock pushing into him, spreading him wide. Fuck! Yes! He bore down, riding hard, bucking and groaning as the whole fucking world spun. Growls and roars filled the air, Anton pushing in deep, thrusting hard. His lips were taken, Anton's noises filling his mouth. Greg stopped thinking, stopping doing anything but feeling this. Feeling Anton. Hard and fierce, Anton kept the pace going, fucking him like it was the only thing in the world. Their lips crashed together, heat tripling like they were both under the broiler. Glowing, Anton's eyes stared into his as the man's hips snapped and thrust and kept filling him with the best heat ever. Glowing. Eyes didn't. Oh. "There." A growl answered him, and Anton hit his gland with every new thrust. His entire world went white and he jerked, squeezing tight, working Anton's thick cock with his ass. Anton roared, filling his ass in long pulses. "Fuck." His eyes rolled a little, his entire body vibrating. Collapsing onto him, Anton nuzzled into his neck, lips and teeth sliding on his skin. 27

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"Mmm. Goddamn, that was fine." The sound Anton made rumbled against his chest, and he could hear and feel each of Anton's breaths. Greg just floated a bit until Anton's cock slipped out of him. Oh. Wait. Shit. Anton's bare cock. Jesus fucking Christ. What had he been thinking? Anton was licking him, humming and nibbling and fucking licking him like they hadn't just... "I need to go clean up, man. I don't. I don't ever." He knew better. Anton raised his head, dark eyes looking at him, full of confusion. "That wasn't your first time?" "I mean bareback. I." Fuck. "I'm sorry." Christ, what a monumental mistake. Not only did he fuck his new boss, but he fucked his new boss bare. Anton growled. "I am not diseased." 28

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"You don't know I'm not." He slid out from under the man, grabbing his ruined pants. Idiot. Jesus. He knew better. With a wave of a hand, Anton dismissed his words. "You can't hurt me." "Dude, thinking like that's how shit spreads." Okay. Okay. He couldn't figure out what to say, how to do this. "You can't," snarled Anton, standing and pulling on his trousers. The man stalked over to his dresser, yanking open his drawer and pulling out a pair of sweatpants. Anton brought them over to him. "Forget this nonsense and come to bed." Nonsense. Wow, that was incredibly... Arrogant. "I'm going to get a shower. I smell like steak." "I like steak. I like the way you smell." Anton tilted his head. "Or was that an invitation?" "Look, man. I'm fucking wigged out. I just fucked my new boss bareback. I'm a little stressed." "I'm not going to fire you." Anton moved closer, reached for him. "Firing isn't the worst thing that can happen." It wasn't even close. 29

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Anton grabbed his arm and tugged him in close. "I told you I'm not diseased." "And I'm supposed to just believe you? Believe all the guys you've fucked that told you they were clean? It doesn't work that way." Anton let him go, stalked away to close the blinds, movements sharp, jerky. "I don't usually lose control like that. And yes. Yes, you are supposed to believe me!" "I'm sorry, man. I'm not trying to piss you off. I just... I've never let anyone do that before." "Then I'm special." And didn't the boss preen at that. That was irritating as fuck. Cute, but irritating. "Shower." "Oh, that time it was an invitation." Smiling, Anton grabbed his arm and tugged him toward a door across from the bed. "Mine is much bigger." "I'm trying to have a snit, you know." He chuckled and followed, everything just a little... off center. "You'd prefer to have a snit than a shower with me?" The bathroom was not only bigger than his, but fancier with marble everywhere and a huge shower with multiple shower heads. 30

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"Look at this place..." He just stared, eyes wide. "Damn." "See? Better than a snit. Even before you throw me into the mix." Anton stripped his pants back off, and stepped into the enormous shower. Greg shook his head, following. The steam started up almost immediately, the water pouring all around them. Anton's hand wrapped around the back of his head and then the man's lips covered his own in another kiss, tongue pushing into his mouth. His head started swimming, the kiss stealing his breath, his sense. Wait. Was he supposed to... Anton pulled him up against the strong body, the man somehow hotter than the water spraying at them from several angles. "I. I'm supposed to..." Oh. So fucking fine. "Shut up." There was a thread of amusement in the words, buried under that sexy growl, and Anton pushed him up against the tile. The water was licked out of his collarbone, his right shoulder bitten. Anton's mouth headed south from there, moving slowly toward his nipple. "Bossy." Well, duh. The man was the bos... Oh. Oh, hell yes. "Yes." The word was hissed, Anton's breath against his nipple for a second before hot lips closed over it, tongue circling and then flicking across the sensitive nub. "Fuck." His head fell back, cracking against the tile. 31

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A sharp bite made him buck before that hot tongue came back to soothe his flesh. Humming, Anton started to rock against him, prick already hard as nails again as it dragged over his skin. "I need. I need to..." Focus. Goddamn it. Focus. "Yes. Need. Want. Have." His mouth was taken again, his wrists gathered into one of Anton's hands and held over his head as Anton's other hand slid along his side, stroking before moving to find his abused nipple. Everything in him went white-hot and fiery, the sheer power in Anton's hands inspiring. Anton's tongue pushed into his mouth, fucking it, while that hard prick slid against his belly, bumping and rubbing against his own. His nipple was pinched, teased. And the water kept hitting his skin from above and below and the sides. He started dancing, moving in the water, under Anton's touch, tugging at Anton's hands. The hand around his wrists tightened, and he was given a wolfish grin. "Sexy," muttered Anton, body moving with his, pressing against him. "You're making me all goofy, man, all caught up." "Isn't that a good thing?" Anton's lips slid along his neck again, biting here and there. "I." His head was spinning, his cock throbbing, begging for more. 32

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Anton's free hand slid down and wrapped around him, tugging with short, sharp strokes. Sharp bites peppered along his right shoulder. "Fuck." His thighs went tight, head ducked down, hips rolling furiously. "Yes. Fuck." Anton squeezed him hard and then let go, turned him around, pushing him up against the tile. "I... Okay. Okay, condom, yeah?" He arched back, ass wanting that heavy cock. Growling, Anton bit into the back of his neck. "Don't need it." Anton's prick slid along his crack. "Are you sure?" Was he? "I swear it." The thick cock pushed against his hole. That hand was on his belly, pushing him down, letting him sink down on that hard column of flesh. "Tight. Good." God, Anton's voice vibrated right through him. "This is stupid." This felt so good. "No. Good." One of Anton's feet pushed at his, spreading him wider and Anton's prick sank that much deeper. Then Anton began to move, thrusting into him. He was going to scream with it, his hole stretched around the base of Anton's prick, his ass full and aching. Hand still on his 33

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belly, Anton pulled him back over and over, cock piercing him, stretching him, hitting his gland. "Harder." He needed more. To be pushed. Anton's teeth sank into the back of his neck as the next thrust came, rocking him, pushing him up against the tile. Oh, sweet fuck. He shook, the world going white-hot and perfect. The thrusts came over and over again, pushing Anton's hard cock deep each time. Hard, almost savage, Anton brought them together. He jerked, toes curling as he shot, heat spraying from him. Anton howled, fingers pressing hard against his belly as heat pushed deep inside him. His knees buckled, his bones melted. Anton held him up, strong arms holding him up. "I..." He couldn't think. The water was turned off and he was picked up, Anton carrying him back to the bed in the other room, nuzzling his neck. Soft sounds came out of him, without him even thinking. All he knew was pleasure. The covers were brought up over them, making it even darker, and Anton wrapped around him, hands touching, stroking, lips nibbling. "Good." He was good. It was good. Life was good. 34

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Anton made a soft noise in his throat and pulled him closer, holding him tight. Greg sank into sleep, drifting off before that little voice that warned him that he was getting himself in trouble again started screaming.

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Chapter Three Anton woke up hungry. He wanted meat, and lots of it. He wanted something else more. And lucky for him, Greg was in his arms, ass pressed up against the part of him that wanted, needed, was nice and hard. He nuzzled into Greg's neck, and rocked his hips, sliding his prick along Greg's crack. "Mmm..." Greg moaned, stretched, ass rolling against his prick. Yes, that was exactly what he wanted. He nibbled along the back of Greg's neck, teeth scraping lightly. "I. Wait. What?" Greg turned, blinking at him with dazed eyes. "Morning," he murmured, biting at Greg's lower lip, pushing hard along the man's hip. "I. Oh." Greg shook his head a little, took a deep breath. "Morning." He licked at Greg's lips, bit them again. "Hungry." 36

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"Uh. 'kay. I need to uh... Right. There's pastries to hold you 'til I get dressed and caffeinated." He chuckled, hand sliding along Greg's side and wrapping around one hip so he could tug Greg close. "I appreciate the thought, but it’s not that kind of hunger." "Huh? Sorry, I'm not best in the morning..." No. No, he'd experienced that himself. "You're forgiven if you kiss me." He looked at Greg, mouth opening expectantly. Greg blinked again, and then smiled, pushing up to offer him a slow, lazy kiss. Oh, sweet. He took another after the first, and then a third, tongue sliding across those soft lips, encouraging him to open up as his cock throbbed alongside Greg's. Greg's tongue slid against his, those warm lips opening up for him. He rolled them, putting Greg beneath him as his tongue pushed into Greg's mouth and he took the kiss. One leg wrapped around him, tugging them closer together. Still kissing, he started to humping down, his cock sliding along Greg's belly, bumping his lover's cock. Full and hard against him, Greg's scent was pure, needy male, heady. He ended the kiss, started moving down Greg's body, licking and biting as he went, heading for one of his favorite proteins. Greg's prick jumped and jerked, doing its best to get his attention. He didn't pussy-foot around, he just went right for what he wanted, what Greg wanted, and wrapped his lips around the head, tongue 37

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flicking back and forth across the tip. "Anton." The blankets were thrown back, Greg's eyes huge, hungry. "Never... never without a glove. Jesus..." He growled around Greg's prick. He didn't want to hear about condoms. He couldn't get sick and he couldn't make Greg sick. He might be an uncivilized brute beneath the thin veneer of civilization he wore, but he couldn't make anyone sick. Anton sucked harder, fingers sliding down over Greg's balls, rolling them in their sacs. Greg stilled, panting hard, the scent of arousal ratcheting up until he could growl with it. He moved slowly on Greg's cock, taking his time to feel the shape of it, taste it. His hand slid behind Greg's balls, rubbing along the hot, hidden skin. Greg spread, a soft moan filling the air. "Please." He pushed his finger back further, finding the hot hole, still swollen from what they'd done. It made him groan, Greg's prick muffling the sound. It made him move faster, head bobbing over and over. Hot, salty drops slid over his tongue, down his throat, Greg's cock throbbing. That had him sucking harder, wanting more of that taste, wanting Greg to lose it for him. One finger pressed against Greg's hole, the tip breaching it. Greg cried out, prick swelling for a second before spunk filled his mouth. He swallowed it all down, eager and greedy. "Anton..." Greg arched, bucking up into him, over and 38

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over. He kept sucking, kept swallowing, stretching out the orgasm, giving Greg as much sensation as he could. The man never went soft, stayed hard and needy in his lips. Oh, sweet. Fucking sweet. He let the hard prick slide from his lips and tongued it, up one side and down the other, tickling at the slit. "Anton. I. Oh. Fuck." Indeed. He rubbed his cheek against the hard cock, letting Greg feel his stubble. His own prick throbbed and he rubbed against the sheets. Greg pushed closer, letting him rub harder. Someone was a little pain slut. Growling, he pressed his finger into Greg's hot, swollen hole, his cock throbbing at the thought of being held within that tight heat again. "Yeah." Greg bore down hard, taking him to the second knuckle. "I want you." He looked up into Greg's eyes and pushed his finger deeper. "Uh-huh. More." Demanding little slut. He spread Greg's legs and licked around his buried finger. Then he licked a second one and pushed it in as well, stretching Greg's hole. Searching for that little gland, and pegging it once he found it. "Fuck!" Greg jerked away, hand on that hard prick, jacking it. "Oh, fuck. That's big." 39

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He slapped at that hand, growling. "You wait for me." Greg was already one up on him. Those eyes met his, challenging, demanding, hungry. "Make me." A thrill went through him and he pulled his fingers out, sliding up along Greg's body. He grabbed the man's hands along the way, pulling them up over Greg's body. "Okay. I will." The scent of need blossomed, the man excited, a touch apprehensive, incredibly turned on. He spread Greg's legs with his knees, the tip of his prick bumping against Greg's hole. Greg pushed down, trying to take control, trying to be the alpha. Oh, he didn't think so. "You wait for me." He growled, hands tightening around Greg's wrists. Smell that need, that luscious passion. "Oh..." "Yes, oh." He leaned in and bit at Greg's neck, and then at the man's lips, pushing his tongue in as he pushed his cock in. Greg fought him, even there, tongue pushing into his lips, trying to fuck him back. So fucking hot. He pushed harder, taking Greg, growling. The sheets tore under his nails and his skin bruised from Greg's fingers, his hips pushing his prick in deep. He moved faster, biting at Greg's lips, blood like copper 40

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pennies on his tongue. Greg's body squeezed him, worked his cock. It was hot and sexy and he was going to come far too fast. Good thing Greg worked and lived here. They could do it again. And again. He let go of one of Greg's hands, reaching down to jack the hard cock pressed between their bodies. He got a desperate cry, heat spraying over his wrist. "Yes!" He threw his head back and howled, hips snapping hard, pushing his prick in deep, and then coming. Greg's free hand was around his neck, holding on. He sank down onto Greg, letting the lithe body take his weight. "Hot." Greg just moaned, breath panting against his shoulder. "Uh-huh." Hot and sexy and he could smell them. "I... Uh. Wow." He chuckled. Greg’s rough voice just sounding stunned. He pressed his lips to the side of Greg's head, feeling good, satiated and easy in his bones. "Mmm. I should... Oh, wait. Sunday. Cook's day off." He heard Greg's chuckle. "Get your own fucking breakfast." "I've already had my appetizer." He bit at Greg's ear. "I could take you out somewhere. Someplace you like. As long as they have meat on the menu." 41

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"Mmm. No. Let's make omelets. I have some amazing Serrano ham." "As long as your realize I won't be much help -- I'm dreadful in the kitchen." He happily ate his meat raw when he had to. "I don't need help. I just like company." Greg gave him a quick, pleased grin. "I can do that." He kissed that grin, and then groaned as he pulled out, Greg's body dragging at his skin like it didn't want to let him go. "Oh... Gonna feel you all day." "Good. Of course it is your day off -- you can feel me any time you want." "Yeah? I mean, you don't mind people seeing?" He let one eyebrow arch up. "I am the boss." If anyone had a problem with anything he did, they were welcome to get the hell out. "You think?" One of Greg's eyebrows rose, challenging him again. Oh, Greg was a live wire. He bent again until their lips were touching. "I know." Then he took a kiss, hard and toothy. Greg made him push harder, and then opened to him. Fuck that turned him on. He bit at Greg's lower lip, breaking the skin. 42

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"Fuck!" Greg bucked, eyes burning, shocked. He sucked, tasting blood and spit and Greg. Then he drew back. "Come on. I want my other hunger fed now." "Bossy." Greg slipped out from under him. "I'll meet you in the kitchen. I need water and clothes." He found his housecoat and passed the dark velour robe over; he had a hunch Greg would rather not wander the penthouse naked. "Thanks, man. I'll be in the kitchen in twenty, tops." Greg hid under all the cloth, wrapping the robe around him. He put his hand beneath Greg's chin and turned the man's face up to him. "Make it fifteen." Those pretty eyes flashed, hot, fiery. "And if I do?" He smiled slowly. "I'll make it worth your while." Greg moaned, just softly. "And if I don't?" "I'll have to punish you." He licked his lips, his smile growing. One eyebrow lifted, Greg's chin pointed right at him. "Is that supposed to be a deterrent?" Oh, he did like this man. He liked Greg a lot. The corner of his mouth twitched. "I'll let you choose 43

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whether you want the reward or the punishment." "I suppose that depends on how much I like my shower." His cheek got a kiss, and then Greg walked out, ass swinging. He licked his lips, trying to decide if he hoped that Greg liked the shower, or not. *** Whether or not Greg wanted to be late was completely beside the point. He got caught by Rosa on the way down the hall -- some nonsense about next week's menu and the price of beef and whether they should serve pintos or kidney beans. Greg slid into the kitchen at seventeen minutes, heading straight for the fridge. "Ham and cheese omelets?" "You're late," Anton pointed out, not answering his question. "Rosa needed to talk. Mushrooms?" "Talking with Rosa was more important than getting here on time?" Anton still wasn't answering his questions. "She had questions about beans." His skin was tingling. "Questions about beans..." Anton growled and grabbed his arm, tugging him close. "I don't care about beans." 44

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"No? She seemed to think it was desperately important..." Fuck, that was sexy. "She isn't me." Anton brought their mouths together, the kiss hard and toothy. He kissed back, tongue pushing back, trying to see how far tall, dark and growly would let him go. Anton grabbed onto his tongue, sucking on it hard. Fuck. He'd already had a two-fer. He'd never get it up again. Still. Hot. As the kiss ended, Anton bit his tongue, not breaking the skin, but still sharp. "Now make me breakfast." "Bossy bossy." He chuckled, running his tongue against his teeth as he gathered eggs and cheddar and some lovely chanterelles. "Don't forget the meat," growled Anton, sitting at the island and watching him closely. "I never forget the meat, man." He grabbed the Serrano ham and plopped it down before starting the coffee. Shit, Anton's eyes were like a laser, watching his every 45

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move. "No, you haven't forgotten it yet." "Well, we could explore options for a vegetarian dinner party - tofu, falafel..." He grabbed his knife and got to work. Anton sneered. "I don't do vegetarian." "You don't? I hear they taste better." Not that he'd done any vegetarians lately. That earned a snort. "Meateaters taste just fine, Greg. You taste just fine." His cheeks went hot and he forced himself to roll his eyes, knife sliding through the ham. "Do you want onion?" Anton smiled, looking predatory despite the lazy way he sat. "You're the cook, Greg." "I am." He grabbed an onion and a pepper, mincing away. "Did you know how sexy you look doing that?" "Chopping?" He had great knife skills. Fabulous, even. "Chopping, mixing, cooking. You exude confidence." Anton licked his lips. "I'm good at what I do." He grabbed a bowl, cracking eggs. Jesus, he was hungry. "You are indeed." The way Anton said it -- it didn't sound like they were talking about cooking anymore. 46

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He tossed the veggies and ham into a sauté pan, the steam rising. Head tilting, Anton hummed as he scented the air, and the man's belly rumbled loudly. It didn't take much at all to get the omelets cooked, to add toast and a carved slice of orange. "Oh, very nice. And are you going to feed me?" Anton's legs spread, the offer to stand between them clear. "What? You forgot how to feed yourself?" He came around the island, slid in between Anton's legs. One hand went around his waist, Anton holding him possessively. "I like it when you feed me. It's like foreplay." "It'll be a while before I can get it up again, bossman." He cut a bite of omelet off, offered it over. "Is that a challenge?" Eyes heavy lidded, Anton opened up and took the bite from the fork. "Just fact." He took a bite himself. Mmm. Perfect. "Sounded like a challenge to me." Anton's mouth opened expectantly for another bite. He cut off another bite, making sure to get all the flavors on the fork. He loved the colors, the scent of something so simple. Anton's eyes closed this time, a low hum sounding. "Another," murmured the man as soon as he'd swallowed. "Uh-uh. My turn." He took a bite, humming at the flavor. 47

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A low growl vibrated in Anton's chest. "Another bite." Demanding man. "Hungry?" He cut another bite, offered it over. He did love how Anton enjoyed his food. "Yes. Starving." Anton leaned in to take the food off the fork, holding his gaze as those fine lips slid along the silver. "The ham is good, huh?" It should be, for sixteen dollars a pound. "It is. Not as good as you." It felt like Anton was eating him with those eyes. "I'm way more rare than the ham." Way more. He took another bite, making Anton wait a little, teasing a little. Growling a little, Anton took his mouth, stealing a part of his bite. "Hey, now. That was mine." His laughter bubbled up out of him, inescapable. "Was it? Then why was it in my mouth?" Anton's hand slid around to grip his ass. "Because you're a greedy bastard?" He grinned, nipped Anton's lip. "Mmm... I am." Anton pulled him up against the hard body. "Do that again." 48

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Greg leaned and bit. Hard. He could feel Anton's cock jerk against his belly. "Oh, yes." "You want another bite?" He wasn't sure if he was talking about him or the omelet. "Yes." He wasn't sure which one Anton was saying yes to, either, but he opted for the food, because the eggs would get rubbery. Anton looked disappointed, but the man took the bite off the fork and licked his lips once he'd swallowed. "Very nice. Now the other bite." Greg nuzzled in, took a sharp kiss, and then leaned to bite at Anton's throat. Man, that sound was just like a dog's growl, vibrating low, Then Anton's hand wrapped in his hair, pulling his head back as Anton dove into it, teeth sharp on his skin. "Fuck!" His cock tried to fill back up, stupid thing. Like he could do that again today. Anton held him in place, teeth gnawing on his skin, lips sucking. Fuck, he was going to have a large, dark mark. "You're going to leave a hickey, man." He wasn't complaining. Much. 49

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"A mark. Yes." Anton sucked harder. Shit, that was hot. Really hot. Goddamn. Still sucking, Anton's tongue came out, licking across his heated skin. The hands on his ass tightened, squeezed him. "I... Someone will come in..." This was his boss. This was insane. A big mistake. Hot as fuck. "You're ashamed of being seen with me?" "Don't be silly. I just don't want people to think you're fucking the help." Anton chuckled and licked at the brand new spot on his neck. "But I am fucking you. And frankly, it's nobody's business but our own." "Wrong answer, man. You were supposed to say I was way more important than 'help'." Anton's eyebrow went up. "I don't make a habit of having sex with the people who work for me. You are, in fact, the first." "Oh." His cheeks went hot, his belly tight. "Wow." "There is something quite irresistible about you, Greg. You're under my skin." Anton rubbed a thumb over the 50

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mark on his neck, pressing against it. "I... You don't know me that well, yet..." Oh. Oh, more. "That's got nothing to do with it. I see you and I want to touch you. I smell you and I want to fuck you." Anton growled, pressing harder on the mark, and brought their mouths together for another toothy kiss. Man, he... He had the best fucking job. *** It had been a wonderful, lazy day full of sex and need and making Greg lose his mind. It had been a long time since Anton had had anyone he cared about, and even longer since that person had lived with him. As evening approached and he began to feel twitchy, he was reminded exactly why that was. The beast would be upon him soon, and he needed to lock himself away. Doubly so given that every instinct in him was screaming that he shouldn't hide away until he'd grabbed Greg and brought the man with him. God only knew what he would do to Greg if that were to happen. He stopped playing the piano, the music no longer soothing him. He needed to feed, and then he needed to go before he did something to Greg. Carefully closing the lid down over the keys, he moved away from the piano, away from the 51

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warm body sitting next to him. "You're real good at that, man." Greg gave him a lazy, sensual smile. "Lots of practice." God, he wanted to grab Greg up and fuck the man senseless. "I'm hungry." He wanted a huge steak. "Yeah? You have something in mind?" "Steaks. Barely seared." His stomach growled as he said the words, making him chuckle. "See? Hungry." "I'll have to wander to the fridge, see what's there. Shipments come in on Monday morning." "I need steak. You have to make sure there's always some available." He was getting jumpy, restless. It was time to eat, and to go. "Hey, I made the orders like I was told, man." Greg hopped up, snarling back a little. "I'll go throw something in the broiler for you." "I don't care if you're not the one who screwed up -- I need meat!" He curled his fingers into fists in an effort not to growl or roar. One dark eyebrow went up. "Then go cook yourself some. I'm off the fucking clock until tomorrow morning." He did growl then, lip curling as he snarled. "I'll eat it raw!" 52

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Anton stalked toward the kitchen, muscles clenching and unclenching, the beast so very near. Greg stayed behind him for a moment, and then turned down the hall toward the staff rooms without a word. He was torn, so very torn. He wanted to follow Greg, to grab the man and take what was his. And he needed meat. The beast demanded both. With a roar, he went down the hall after Greg. Greg stopped short, spun around. "What the hell was that?" "I want you." He grabbed Greg's shirt in both hands and slammed him up against the wall, taking a hard kiss. Greg's eyes went wide, a mixture of fear and arousal flooding the air. He backed off on the kiss. A little. But his hips ground against Greg's body, his need to claim his mate clawing at him from the inside. His mate. Oh, fuck. He’d never... He took a half step back. He got a groan, a sharp slap to the ass. "Don't wimp out now, man." Growling, he dove back into the kiss, teeth clicking against Greg's. He pushed a thigh between Greg's legs, humping hard. Greg pushed back, groaning, snarling, biting at him. If he didn't know better, he'd swear the man was family. He tore open Greg's pants, and then his own, nearly howling as their cocks met, hard flesh pressing on hard flesh. He didn't care that the zipper bit into him, that Greg was banging into the wall with loud thumps. All that 53

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mattered was the beast and marking Greg with his scent. Wild, desperate, hungry -- he took it all. Greg just met him -- each thrust, each growl, each bite. It was glorious and he pushed harder and harder, getting close and closer the more they pushed together, the more they bit and growled. Greg crawled up his body, humping against him, sharp cries pushing into his lips. He tore the man's pants completely away, his prick sliding behind Greg's balls, bumping into the little hole he'd used so well in the last day. With a growl he pushed against it. "Yes!" Greg took him, growling and crying out into his lips. So fucking hot and tight and he buried himself inside Greg over and over, the thumping against the wall getting louder as he used more force. "Fuck. Fuck, yeah. More..." Demanding. So fucking demanding. Growling, he bit hard at Greg's lips, his jaw, and finally settled on the join where neck met shoulder, teeth sinking in as he sucked. "Yes. Yes, man. Just like that. Just so..." He still had his hands wrapped in Greg's t-shirt, and he tore it open, finally letting go so he could grab Greg's ass with one hand, pinch at the hard little nipples with the other. He didn't speak -- he couldn't -- he just growled and moaned, 54

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the sounds guttural and deep. His head began to swim, the dark, rough voice in his soul whispering that this one was his. His. His. He threw back his head and howled as his seed pulsed from his body, marking Greg deep inside, marking Greg as his. An answering heat splashed against his belly, Greg going quiet and still against him. Panting, he leaned against Greg, the wall holding them both up. Greg hummed softly, hanging on, clinging to him. He nuzzled into Greg's neck, teeth sharp as he scraped at the warm, smooth skin. He could feel the growls building in him, the beast so close, this claiming not helping matters any. Anton pulled out of Greg and set him down, still panting and panicking now with the beast so close. He couldn't be seen. He couldn't. He had to get to his room -- Jackson would be there, Jackson would be waiting to close the door on his secret room and lock him in. He began to back away. "I have to go." "Go? Where to? You smell like sex, man. You can't go out..." "No going out!" He snarled, fighting the beast's instincts to 55

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grab Greg and drag him along. "You're mine." He turned and fled.

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Chapter Four Dude, he was fucking tired. His new boss-lover-fuckbuddy-client-whatever had rattled his cage but good, disappearing and snarling. Greg had given up on trying to sleep or trying to get his brain to shut up, so he went with work. Supply lists. Cleaning the pantry. Deep cleaning the oven. Three dozen cranberry muffins. Menu planning. By eight a.m. he was exhausted and filthy and in desperate need of a shower. Too bad the suppliers came at eight thirty. "Oh, I didn't realize you were already up." Jackson stood in the doorway, dressed in his usual black suit -- the man looked more like an undertaker than a butler or assistant. 57

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"Anton is in need of a large breakfast, to be delivered to his room as soon as possible, please." "I have to be here for the distributor, man. Can you come take it to him?" Jackson checked his watch. "The distributor comes in a half hour, surely you will have the meal ready before then? He needs the food rather badly this morning." "I'll have it done, sure. I just..." Well, hell, maybe it would just be a quick drop off job. "Sure. I'll drop it and run." "Rosa and I will deal with the food delivery should you be longer than you expect. She should be here any minute and she knows the man well enough." Jackson made a face. "We've been through a number of cooks..." "Yeah? I sorta like the job. I'll make some sausage." "I don't want to intrude on your bailiwick, but if you happened to have a nice thick steak lying around." Jackson shrugged. "He's very hungry." "Steak and eggs it is." He found a nice t-bone, just warming it up and scrambling a few eggs to go with. Add some toasted brioche, orange juice, coffee and a nice fruit salad and life was good. He grabbed the tray and headed down the hall toward Anton's room, kicking at the door. He thought he heard Anton say "come in", but the words were so quietly spoken, he couldn't be absolutely sure. 58

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"I have steak and eggs, man. You sick?" "Something like that." Anton looked like shit. He was pale, he had bags under his eyes, and there was a tremor in his hand where it lay on the covers. "Jesus." He brought the food over, set it up on the bedside table. "I hope I didn't wear you out..." The corner of Anton's mouth twitched up. "In your dreams." "Didn't do that." He lifted the lid off the tray. "Bon apetit." "Oh..." Anton groaned, hands trembling as he picked up the knife and fork, stomach growling loudly. "You sure you don't need a doctor?" "Just food. This smells good." Anton handed the knife and fork over to him. "Feed me?" "I..." How could he turn down those puppy dog eyes? Anton patted the bed when he took the utensils. "I should have eaten last night, but I was... distracted." "Yeah, yeah." He cut the steak, fed Anton easily, eye on the time. "I have supplies coming in and I stink, I'm sorry." Anton breathed in deeply. "You smell like you, sweat salt and musk." 59

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With each bite, Anton seemed stronger. "You look like you feel better. Have some eggs." "I told you I was just hungry." Anton took the fork from him, shoveling down the eggs. "Man, you suffer from some bad blood sugar, huh?" "Something like that. Is that orange juice?" One long finger pointed at the tray, and Greg couldn't help but notice the nail had been torn off below the quick, a bit of blood still on the fingertip. "Yeah. Yeah, what happened to your hands, man?" He stood and went to get Anton a washrag from the man's huge-ass bathroom. "I..." Anton looked at his fingers and then tucked them beneath the covers. "Nothing. I'm fine." "Here. You can get the blood off." He grinned, winked. "Were you out catting around?" Lips curling, Anton nearly spat at him. "I do not cat around." "Ooh, la la. I'm sorry." He chuckled, shook his head and grinned. Anton tugged the washcloth out of his hand and wiped at his finger. "Mouthy." "Yep. I have to get to work, man. You get some sleep, huh? 60

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You look worn out." "No. Stay." It sounded like an order. "There's a whole load of meat coming..." He reached out, touched Anton's forehead. Not feverish. "Steaks?" Anton grinned. "You're going to use my stomach against me?" "Steaks. Chicken. Fish. Pig of all sorts." He smiled back, Anton's happiness infectious. "What about cooks?" Anton tugged him onto the bed. "Are you on the menu?" "You aren't feeling well..." Oh. Hard. Happy. "I'm feeling just fine now that I've eaten." Anton's hand slid along his back, down to his ass. "Feel for yourself." "Mmm. I feel. I'm on the clock, though. I have to..." Oh, sexy. Anton's eyes twinkled, the man's hand wrapping around his ass to tug him up against the strong body. "I'm pretty sure the boss won't fire you." "You think?" Jesus, the man was full of piss and vinegar. It made him feel like a god, sort of. "I do." Anton's mouth closed over his, the kiss sure, though not as hard as the ones they'd shared last night up against the wall... Anton's tongue fucked his lips and his brain went 61

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white. The next thing he knew, he was sprawled over Anton's body, the kiss getting harder, growing teeth as Anton bit his lower lip. That cock was pressing against his checks, his tshirt coming loose from his waistband. One of Anton's hands insinuated itself beneath his t-shirt, fingers pressing into his skin, touching him muscle deep. "Mmm..." The sound rumbled out of him, so needy, somehow deeper than just a moan. "Yes." Anton growled, tugged him right onto Anton's body, his clothes and the sheet all that separated their forms. "I need a shower... I stink..." Anton didn't. Anton smelled rich, male, heady. "After." Anton rolled them, putting him beneath Anton's weight. "A...after." He arched up, cock rubbing against Anton's hip. Leaning in, Anton nuzzled the dark mark on his neck, and then bit it, teeth sharp. Crying out, he jerked, cock going rock hard, aching. "Mmm... mine." The words were whispered against the mark, and Anton pulled the sheets away, began pawing at his clothes. "You seem sure of that." "You smell like mine," muttered Anton, nuzzling that 62

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mark, scenting it. His checks were pushed down below his hips. "What... what does that mean?" His cock slapped against his belly. "I smell you and I smell mine." His t-shirt was pushed up, and then ripped apart, Anton going for his nipples as soon as they were bared. This was wild. Just fucking wild. Hot. Perfect. First one, and then the other, Anton attacked his nipples, sucking and biting. Little growling noises came out of the man, vibrating against his skin. "Jesus, you're fierce. Gonna feel you for days." "More than days." That biting mouth moved southward, stopping to suck up anther mark. "They won't last that long..." Oh. Burned. That burned. "Make more," muttered Anton, tongue pushing into his navel, fucking it. "Oh." He curled up, shoulders leaving the mattress. That tongue circled and thrust, circled and trust, making the nerves around his navel scream. Then Anton moved over and down, bristly cheeks rubbing against his right hip bone. Fuck. The hot son of a bitch was going to drive him out of his mind. His hip bone was gnawed on, Anton's tongue following his 63

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teeth, lashing over his skin. Those warm lips slid into the dip next to his hip, wrapping around the skin there and pulling up yet another mark. The world started spinning a little, his hips jerking furiously. Fuck, no leather daddy player had ever turned his ass inside out like this. Anton licked at the mark he'd made a time or two, and then he took a bite of pubic hair, tugging hard on it. "Fucker!" That stung so fucking good. A growling noise came from Anton, and then the man did it again, this time with hair closer to his prick. Greg pulled away, balls so tight he almost shot. A low warning growl sounded and Anton's turned his head, capturing his prick lightly between sharp teeth. He went perfectly still, just shaking a little. Those teeth disappeared, Anton licking him instead, tongue hot and almost gentle before one of his balls were swallowed down. He spread, not fighting. His heart pounded with a delicious fucking mixture of pleasure and worry. No teeth, but Anton tugged, stretching the skin of his sacs. A whine was pulled out of him, a sound unlike any he'd ever had. "Anton." His ball was slowly let go, Anton turning to bite the inside of his thigh, those dark eyes shining up at him. "What do you want?" What kind of game was this? Anton only growled softly, taking his other ball into that 64

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hot mouth. He eased back into the pillows, moaning low. Anton tugged and twisted and sucked on his ball, before slowly letting it slide out of that hot mouth. His legs were pushed wide apart, Anton biting the inside of his thigh. He was going to have marks everywhere. "I'll look like a leper." He spread wide, moaned low. "Like my leper." Anton gave him a wolfish grin and pushed his legs back even farther, exposing his hole. "Possessive much?" Wiggling a little, he pulled away, teasing. "You don't share?" Growling, almost snarling, Anton grabbed him and tugged him closer again. "No. I don't." "You sure? You don't like watching?" Fuck, this was hot. Anton didn't even answer him, just bent, teeth sinking into the skin beyond his balls, lips wrapping tight as the mark was made. "Jesus!" His head snapped back, entire body shaking violently as he shot, spunk splashing over his chest. Anton let his skin go and rose up to lick his belly clean, tongue hot as it slid through his spunk. Those eyes were on his, heated, almost glowing. "You..." He reached down, stroked the thick, thick long hair. "Damn." He knew he should be worried about the unprotected sex thing, but Anton had said he was clean and Greg wanted to believe him. Wanted to do badly... It was 65

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too late to worry about now anyway, after all they’d done together bare. The grin he received was feral and one of Anton's fingers pushed at his hole. "You look like the cat that got the canary." The corner of Anton's lips curled, that finger pushing in deep. "I'm the wolf who got the cat, you mean." "Huh?" Anton's finger pegged his gland and his legs drew up, electricity spiking up his spine, spent cock jerking. Anton didn't answer, just pegged his gland again, and then again. "I can't. I can't go again..." He had to get to work. He. Oh. "I want you." Anton's fingers disappeared, the hard prick pushing against him. The word 'yours' wanted to come out and he bit it back, hard, tender hole stretching again. "So fucking tight." Gaze holding his, Anton sank in the hilt, the hair on his legs rubbing against the inside of his thighs and the tender marks left there. The wave of emotion that hit him, surprised him. Honestly. Warmth and pleasure and passion made him reach up, cup Anton's face. Anton nuzzled into his hand, head turning to lick at his palm. Whatever Anton tasted there made his eyes close halfway, his nostril's flare, that cock push deep. "Mmm. You like that." He wasn't sure what that was, but it 66

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didn't matter. "You taste good. You feel good. I like it." Anton began thrusting. Over and over, filling him so full, and hitting his gland. That electricity filled him, burning and throbbing, filling him up. Pushing into him faster and faster, Anton started panting, grunting and growling, fucking him hard. "C...come on. Please..." He wasn't even sure what he needed. Anton bent, licking at the mark on his neck, hips pistoning, moving with animal fierceness. His cock filled, entire body shaking with it, mind screaming 'yoursyoursyours', over and over. As soon as his cock was full, Anton's hand wrapped around it, tugging in time to the mad thrusts into him. Greg jerked, coming hard, his stomach muscles screaming with it. Anton threw his head back and howled, the sound sending shivers down his spine, heat pulsing into him as the man came. It wasn't. This wasn't. He couldn't. Damn. Greg reached for Anton, eyes huge. 67

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Anton collapsed down onto him, mouth finding his almost blindly, soft moans filling his mouth along with the kiss. Greg held on, stayed for a moment, forgetting about anything but that kiss. Tongue licking inside his mouth, Anton hummed and moaned, and finally their lips parted on a breath. "I should..." Go. Do something. "Stay with me." Heavy on top of him, Anton was also still buried inside him, hot and solid and there. "Mmm." Okay. Okay, sure. If he got written up, he'd file a complaint. *** The first night after the full moon always left him twitchy and restless. Tonight was no different, though he'd been able to sleep all day, Greg's scent strong on his sheets, keeping him settled until well after dark when the night called to him again. Anton showered and dressed, putting on a turtleneck and dress pants, brushing his hair and pulling it back tightly. He looked as civilized as he could. Then he stalked down the hall to the kitchen, drawn there by the knowledge that it was the most likely place he'd find Greg. Even just the thought of the man had his heart beating faster, his prick 68

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perking up. Rosa met him in the hallway. "Your dinner is on the table, senor. Chicken and rice. Very pretty." His stomach rumbled. "And my cook?" "Senor Greg? He said he was covered in goo and needed a shower as soon as he finished your dessert plate." "Thank you, Rosa. You have a good night." He continued on to the kitchen. His dinner did look very pretty. He was disappointed by the empty kitchen, though. The food was good, but he ate it quickly, barely noticing the taste as he scarfed it down. The back door opened, his personal chef stubbing out a cigarette and finished what looked like a sandwich. He had to hold himself back from leaping from his chair and pouncing the man. Damn the beast -- he was more civilized than this. Clearing his throat, he licked his lips. "Greg. You should have eaten with me." "Hmm? No. No, I wasn't in the mood for chicken after cooking it. Besides, I wasn't sure if you were eating alone until the last minute." "Who would I be eating with?" "You have a lot of company and the list said 'possible guest'." He did tend to want something -- someone -- to 69

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play with at this time of the month. Jackson could be forgiven for not knowing he'd picked the chef. "Hmmm. Well you're here now and Rosa said something about there being dessert?" And the moment Greg came near enough he was taking a kiss -- he congratulated himself, though, on waiting as long as he had. "Mmmhmm. There are éclairs with a raspberry coulis." Greg headed for the sink and washed his hands. "Well get the damn things and then get over here." "What is your fucking problem? I didn't want them to smell like smoke!" Oh, his chef had a temper. "My fucking problem is that you're too far away." He could growl, too. "I'm on the clock." It was hot, listening to Greg fight him. Not as hot as the man smelled, bringing him a beautifully plated pastry. "Not anymore you're not." He grabbed hold of Greg's arm and tugged him closer, more interested in the man than the dessert. Greg growled softly, teeth bared a little. "I need a shower, Anton." He leaned in, sniffing. "Mmm... you smell like sex and me." "And chicken. And raspberries, mustard and tobacco." 70

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"Yes. Those, too." He put his finger through the cream spilling out of the éclair, and then sucked it off. Not bad. Not as good as eating dessert from Greg's fingers had proven to be, but not bad. "Oh, you bad man, abusing my éclair." Greg chuckled at him, bleached hair spiky as a hedgehog. Grinning, he ran his finger through the cream again and held it out to Greg. "You can abuse it as well." "On the clock..." That little pink tongue flicked out, swiping the cream off. A shiver went through him at the sensation. So sexy. "You're on the clock an awful lot." "You're a taskmaster, man, I swear to God." "I must be. I'll send me a memo, cut back on your hours." There was a small bit of cream on the corner of Greg's lips and he leaned in, licking it away. Greg moaned, blinking up at him, lips parted. He couldn't resist that unconscious invitation and he licked his way inside Greg's mouth. Greg tasted like smoke and mustard, tongue soft and hot as it brushed against his. Groaning, he pulled his lover to him; there was something about this man, the taste of him, the feeling of him that made Anton wild. 71

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The man wrapped around him, hands on his ass, squeezing, rubbing. Oh, fuck, yes. He took the kiss deeper, forgetting everything but the man in his arms. Greg was whispering, moaning into his lips. He ran his hands down Greg's spine, fingers digging in along the sides. Anton wanted to leave more marks, to make sure no one could possibly mistake that Greg was his. It was bad enough that someone had marked Greg already, inked Greg's skin. Growling at the thought, he bit into Greg's lower lip, the taste of blood sharp and sudden. Greg gasped, jerked, nails digging into his arm. He sucked and licked at the blood, met Greg's eyes. "Mine." "You don't know that." He growled, that denial a physical pain. "Mine!" Greg growled back, pulling away. "Stop that. You don't know me." "I know what you taste like. I know what it feels like to be buried inside you." He grabbed Greg's wrists and yanked the man back up against him. "I know what you taste like, too. Does that make you mine?" He tilted his head. "Maybe." "Maybe. Uh-huh. That's fair. Nope. We'll discuss it when you've had time to think." Greg tugged against his hands a 72

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little, testing him. He didn't let go, not for a minute. Instead his fingers tightened, hard enough to bruise. "I'm only yours if you know it." "What the fuck does that mean?" "You either know it or you don't." He growled again. Too much talking. Tugging hard, he pulled Greg back up against his chest. Greg's mind might not know, but the compact body did, rubbing and sliding up against him. His own body knew, too; he was so hard for Greg, needed so badly. And instead of getting better, the more they came together, the more he needed. "Don't forget your dessert..." Oh, bastard. "Having it right now." And he was going to eat it right up. "I need that..." Greg's head fell back, body shivering against him. He knew what Greg needed and he looked at that bruised throat, and found a spot that was pale and sweet, wrapped his lips around it and started sucking strongly. Sharp cries rang out, almost barks that slid down his spine and settled in his balls. It made him suck harder, his hands on Greg's ass, pulling the man in, humping them together. The kitchen door slammed open, Rosa hurrying in. "Senor? Are you hurt? I forgot my keys... Oh..." Her keys clattered 73

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to the floor as Greg jerked away. He snarled at her, moving to stand in front of Greg, to protect what was his, running purely on instinct. "Leave us." "Sorry. Sorry, senor." She bent to grab her keys. "I heard screams..." He got there before she did, picking them up and handing them to her. "Of pleasure." "Si. Si, senor. Sorry. Sorry. I. Sorry." "Shh. Rosa. Go home to your family and forget about it." He patted her shoulder and did his best not to actually shove her out the door. He got her gone and turned around to an empty room. Growling low, he strode down the hall to the staff quarters, flinging open Greg's door. Nothing. Damn it. He strode back into the kitchen, nose in the air, trying to separate the older scents of Greg from the newer ones. The smell seemed strongest near the pantry and he went into it, pushing open the secret door, his heart hammering in his chest. There. 74

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A trail. His mate. The thought rocked him. He chased the trail, chased his mate, his need. It headed toward his room, and then doubled back. He frowned. He hadn't passed Greg. Was the man hiding? The beast in him wanted to howl, to call to his mate. Greg's path rambled along until it reached the door to the pool. Oh. There. Up the stairs he ran, taking them two at a time, everything in him demanding he find his own. He could hear Greg, splashing, could just smell the man over the chlorine. His eyes found Greg in the water, bare skin glowing in the lights from the other buildings shining through the floor to wall windows. Anton leapt into the water, not even stopping to strip. Greg moved easily, ignoring him, stretching out through the water. While he nearly sank, the weight of his clothes pulling him down. Splashing, he made for the edge. Strong, slick skin slid against his side, Greg pushing him toward the edge. "I have you." His panic left him as Greg held him, and he wasn't sure if it was because of being helped or Greg's nearness. He suspected the latter. "That's it. Come on. Silly man. You don't swim fully dressed." No. In fact, Greg seemed to swim fully nude. 75

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"I... I wanted to be with you," he admitted. "Well, I was trying to save you face with Rosa. Come on, off with the clothes." "Undressing me? I like that." He smiled. He wasn't worried about Rosa. "Saving your skin." His ass was pinched. Hard. His yelp -- from surprise -- was less than dignified, and he followed it up with a growl. He did not, however, pounce until all his clothes were gone. Greg took his weight, gasping, hands tugging at his wet hair. "Better." He nipped at Greg's earlobe, arms wrapping around Greg's waist as they both moved their legs, treading water. "This is a terrible idea." "You're the one who came up here." He was more than willing to get out and drag Greg back downstairs, though. "I needed to. It's a beautiful pool." "You can come back to it later. Come to my room with me." "Just like that?" Greg floated closer, rubbing against him. 76

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"You said it was a bad idea to do this in the pool. I agree. Drowned is not sexy." Wet was though, and he slid his hands over Greg's body. "No, drowning is... Mmm. I. Wait..." "Wait? No, no waiting. We don't have to get to my room..." "We don't?" Greg arched back, the ink on the flat stomach rippling with the water. "No." That ink made him need to reclaim Greg once again as his own. With a growl, he ran his fingers over Greg's belly, nails dragging. Greg gasped and jerked. "You don't like my ink?" "Someone else's mark," he growled. Someone had dared touch what was his, push the mark deep under the skin. "Mine. My mark." How many people had touched this body? Fucked it? Beat it? "You put this here?" His fingers slid over it this time, the hearts and the bluebirds. "What does it mean?" "It's all vintage - simple, pure, real. Like my food." "Mmm... like you." Hand on the edge to keep from sinking, he leaned in and tasted Greg's skin. He couldn't taste the ink, only chlorine and Greg himself. "You've got an amazing mouth..." Greg's legs floated up around him. 77

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"All the better to eat you with." He bit at Greg's skin, adding his mark right next to one of the little hearts. "Ah... the big bad wolf... Am I little Red or Granny?" "You're not old enough to be Granny. Besides -- you have the basket of goodies." He winked and cupped Greg's cock and balls, tugged on them. Oh, Greg's gasp felt good, fine. Right. Anton tugged a little harder and bit Greg's hip, he needed more of those sounds. Greg's head went under and the man sputtered, flailing. He grabbed Greg and tugged him upright. "Out. Now." Greg coughed, choking, holding on. He dragged them both off the water, pounding Greg on the back. "Sorry. Lord. You surprised me." "Not for the first time." He stood, tugged Greg up and kissed him hard, breathing into him. Greg arched and rubbed, cock filling, swelling against him. The way the man responded made him hard, made him need just as much. He growled, tugged Greg in closer. The moon was coming; he could feel it, in his bones, in his skin. It made him want to howl, want to throw Greg down on the ground and fuck him until they both screamed. 78

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Blunt nails scored down his chest, pushed along his belly. His own nails dug into Greg's ass, his teeth biting at the man's lips. Greg bit back, sliding and rubbing against him. Growling, he walked Greg back, pushing him up against the wall. "Mine. You are mine." His upper lip curled. "Mine." "Prove it." He could do that. Bending, he wrapped his lips around the place where Greg's neck met his shoulder, began sucking as he ground their hips together. Greg grabbed his head, holding him closer. He bit and licked, abusing Greg's skin. He was starving, wild, the flavor of this man a pure addiction. His fingers dug into Greg's arms, bruising them as he worked the skin in his mouth. He wanted to leave permanent marks on Greg, wanted to be deep under Greg's skin. Greg groaned, answering him by squeezing his ass, hard. He looked up into the sharp eyes and grinned wildly. Then he turned to Greg's right nipple and bit it. "Fuck!" The tiny bit of flesh drew up tight, hard. It fascinated his tongue and he flicked back and forth over it, imagining a little ring there. His ring. Greg relaxed and he bit again, fascinated by the cry, the way the lean body arched up. He moved to the other nipple, biting at the hard little nub, his thumb playing over the other one, pressing into the abused flesh. 79

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He'd never fucked someone who responded so eagerly, who wanted with this much passion. It was intoxicating. Moaning, he pushed Greg into the wall again, fingers scraping down his side. "This is fucking insane, man. Never played with anyone so hard." "Not playing," he growled, straightening to growl the words against Greg's mouth. "No? What is it?" Greg stared him down, not backing away at all. He shook his head. He didn't know. "Mine." It was the best way he could put it. "You have possession issues, man." Greg licked his lips, teasing him. "I don't have any issues with possessing you." And he would prove it -- he would take Greg right here, right now. Greg laughed, shook his head. "I know that. That's what I mean." He turned Greg around, pushed up close behind him, cock rubbing along Greg's ass. "This is what I mean." That ass arched, rubbed against his shaft, sweeter than fuck. Greg might have possession issues, but the man's body sure as hell didn't. He pushed Greg's legs apart and rubbed his wet-tipped prick across that sweet hole. Greg pressed back, 80

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arching and pushing onto his cock. His fingers wrapped around Greg's hips, but he let the man keep pushing; he made Greg take himself. "Anton..." Greg groaned, moving slow and steady, hips rolling. He growled at the sound of his name on Greg's lips, of the need in that one word. Tightening his grip, he began to pull Greg back onto his prick, going deep. The wind rushed in his mind, feel the way the moon beat down on him, asking him to change, to run, to follow it. He bit Greg's shoulders, burying himself in his own, grounding himself in Greg. Greg's sounds echoed off the tile, getting louder and louder. They joined with the sounds of the wind and the moon inside him, became all twisted together and he howled, slamming into Greg's body over and over. Greg jerked, ass squeezing him, jerking around him, milking his prick. Anton came with another howl, his back bowed, his head thrown back as he filled Greg with his seed. Greg slumped, breathing hard, heavy in his arms. He nuzzled into Greg's neck, licking and tasting the sweat there, chlorine still heavy on Greg's skin. "I... We should have done this is a bed. I'm so tired..." "I've got you." He slid out of Greg and picked the man up, headed for the staircase that would take them back down to his hidden corridor. "Mmm." Greg rested easy, relaxed. "So strong." 81

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"Yes." He was strong enough to defend what was his, to keep it. There was no one no the staircase, no one along the hidden corridor that led to his room, his bare feet slapping on the floor. "Left my clothes upstairs." One finger trailed through the increasingly heavy hairs on his chest. It was harder to fight the beast now that his desires had been satisfied, the blood flowing hotly through his veins. "Yes. Mine, too. We have others." He pushed open the door to his rooms, growling as he realized there was an intruder. Jackson stood by the door to his cage, one eyebrow going up. "I..." The man cleared his throat. "I wasn't sure if you'd need me tonight." Greg stiffened a little, made a soft, almost hurt sound. "Oh. Oh, man. I didn't. I didn't mean to poach on your territory, Jackson-man. That's not my style." Wriggling, Greg slid to the floor, hand covering his cock. Growling, he grabbed Greg and tugged him close so there wasn't a repeat of earlier. "I don't." Jackson meanwhile made a choking sound, his eyes averted from the two of them, a blush beginning to climb his cheeks. "I assure you, Greg, there is no territory for you to poach. I am not here with regards to... what you're here 82

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for." It was all very awkward and stiff and Anton just growled, wanting his melted mate back, wanting Jackson gone. "I don't need you tonight, Jackson. You can go. Now." Damn the man and his efficiency anyway. Greg watched Jackson go, blinking slowly. "What was that about?" "It's a long story." And what exactly would Greg have to say about the truth? The man had been remarkably responsive to his uncivilized needs to date, but would he run when he discovered that Anton wasn't entirely human? Anton had no desire to find out. For one thing, he wasn't sure what his own reaction would be if Greg tried to run. "Huh. I'm worn out, man. Can we talk about it in the morning?" Greg was near asleep on his feet, swaying sideto-side. "Come snuggle?" "Yes." Snuggling meant holding Greg close, which was exactly what he wanted to do. "Bed." He went there, dragging Greg along with him. "Cool. Sorry, man. I'm just worn out." Greg curled up with him in the big bed, fingers petting his stomach. He pulled the covers up over them both, holding Greg close. "Sleep. I'll hold you." For as long as Greg would let him -- for longer. For as long as he could. 83

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*** Soft. There was something so soft with him. Greg hummed, fingers trailing over fur, petting gently as he dreamed. "Mmm." In his dreams there was a huge dog, running. Laughing at him. Wagging a huge bushy tail. His ear was licked, the dog's tongue hot and wet. Greg chuckled, snuggling closer. "Shh. Sleeping, now. Shh." Another lick and a snuffling was his answer, the dog warm and so soft. "Mmm." He pulled the covers around them, legs moving slowly as he sank deeper, dreaming of Anton, of feeding the man with bites of foie gras, of roast. The dog stayed with him, keeping him warm. When he woke up, the sun was up, creeping in the sky and he slid from Anton's bed, heading for the large shower. Lord, he felt like he'd slept two entire days. Maybe three. Possibly four. The glass door slid open, Anton stepping into the shower with him. "I thought I'd find you here." "Mmm. Good morning. I'm sorry about last night. I was tired." 84

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Anton wrapped around him, tugged him up against the long, lean body. "No apology necessary as you slept in my bed." "I did. I slept hard." He smiled and leaned in. "How about you? Better than yesterday?" "Yes. Much." Anton sounded surprised, but then his stomach rumbled noisily. "All right, I'll admit to being starving. But I can't decide whether I want a steak, or you first." "Steak. I've been neglecting you and my work." He was only marginally guilty about that. "I won't argue with having a steak first, but only if I get you after we've eaten." "I have to plan your supper." Go to the market. Find fresh vegetables. Pretend to be busy. "I'll have another steak. There -- all planned." Anton's hands were on his ass, digging in and tugging him close. "Man cannot live on steak alone." Oh, Anton was massaging muscles that hadn't been so well-worked in years. "That's why I want a heaping helping of you, too." Bending, Anton began to nibble at his neck, tongue sliding across one mark, and then another. "Don't stop touching, huh? I'm tender." Happy, warm, wet, aroused -- and tender. 85

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Anton stilled a moment, eyes meeting his. "Are you hurt?" "Nah. Well, not in the bad way. In the well-fucked way." He was given a grin, Anton nipping suddenly at his collarbone. "That's all right, then." "Yeah, yeah, yeah. There's nothing like a well-fucked hole." Well, unless it was the heat of a well-spanked one, the ache of a... Yeah. "Sure there is. Fucking it." Anton gave him a wink and then took his mouth in a toothy kiss. When it was over, Anton was smiling, crowding him up against the tile. "You slept well in my bed." "I did. Like a log." "Then you should sleep in it again." Anton's body pressed up against him, so hot compared to the tile at his back. "The rest of the staff will scream. They probably already hate me." Any idiot knew better than to sleep with the boss. He’d already had dirty looks from Jason, Anton’s personal assistant, even though the man kept pretty much to himself. Anton growled, the sound rumbling against his own chest. "They're all replaceable." "Your Jackson isn't replaceable." He could tell that. The lips so near his own twitched. "Jackson knows better 86

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than to scream." Oh, asshole. "I don't scream." Much. Loud. "I like it when you do." Anton bit at his lower lip. He gasped, groaned, hips rocking. "I thought you wanted food." "I do, but I want you, too." Anton rubbed against him, hard prick sliding over his hip. "I want you more." "You are insatiable." Greg reached down, fingers petting the heavy, thick cock. No wonder he was stretched. "For you." His lower lip was bitten again, Anton pushing the hard cock against his hand. "Suck me." "Bossy." He slipped down, biting Anton's belly on the way. Anton jerked, growled softly. "I am the boss." "Not in here." Although that wasn't exactly true. "No?" Anton rubbed that hard prick along his lips. "Suck. Me." "Ask nicely." He lapped the tip, just teasing. Groaning, Anton pushed forward, cock sliding along his 87

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cheek. "That was nice." "Uh-uh." He nuzzled at Anton's hip, fingers tugging the heavy balls. Anton's cock slapped against his face and he could feel the growl building from deep inside the man. Fuck, that was sexy. He bit a little, searching for more. The growl sounded this time and Anton pushed that hard cock against his lips. He opened his mouth to argue and ended up filled with flesh, Anton's flavor sharp and male on his tongue. "Yes." Groaning, Anton moved forward, cock pushing deeper. His lips parted and he groaned, swallowing as he tried to take more in. "Fuck. Yes." Anton's fingers slid over his head, grasping at his hair. The water kept his eyes blinking closed, but he didn't have to see Anton to know that the man was into it -- the fingers on his head, the moans. They told him. As did the hard cock that kept pushing into his mouth, leaking hot drops on his tongue. Greg pulled hard, sucking and moaning around the thick flesh. "So hot. Good," Anton muttered, words barely audible above the sound of the water against the tile, against their skin. Yeah. Yeah. It was good. Better than. 88

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Groaning, he went down to the root. "Greg!" Anton's hands wrapped around the back of his head, holding him there as the strong hips jerked, pushing the heavy cock against the back of his throat. He relaxed, taking as much as he could, as much as he had to. The hard prick grew harder, Anton howling, spunk shooting down Greg's throat. He reached down, pumping his cock, tongue sliding over Anton's cock as he swallowed. Anton's hands gentled, the man's hips still moving, sliding that prick along his tongue. He licked, nuzzling as he worked to come, tugging hard enough to make it ache. His lips were traced by Anton's fingers where they were stretched around the man's prick. "So pretty." He grunted and shot, balls just emptying themselves out. Grinning, Anton slid that fat prick out of his mouth and the man tugged him up, taking his mouth. Smug asshole. Greg swatted that fine ass as he pushed into the kiss, fighting for control. Laughing, Anton leaned against the tile, rubbing them lazily together. "I need to get to work, you big lug." Big, beautiful lug. "Yes -- you were going to feed me." Anton turned off the water and began to lick the water from his skin. "Yep. Eggs and bacon with french toast?" 89

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Anton stepped back, growling, glaring. "Steak!" "Strawberry waffles?" "With steak." Anton leaned in to bite his jaw. "A big steak." "Mmm. If you're good. Maybe." "You promised me steak!" Anton looked, for all the world, like a boy whose favorite toy had just been stolen. Greg chuckled, swatted again. "You think I can't provide steak and eggs?" "Why, you tease!" "Yep." He pulled away, laughing. Half growling, half laughing, Anton chased him down. It was weird, a little hot, a little unnerving. A lot like being hunted. He didn't get any farther than the door to Anton's room, though. He had no clothes to wear -- his were up by the pool. Anton pounced him, slamming him up against the door. "Got you!" He gasped, breath pushed out of him. "Anton." "Mmm... you let me catch you." "I was naked." 90

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Anton rolled against him. "You still are." "You're an observant guy. My clothes are up at the pool." "You should have some clothes in here." Anton's mouth slid over his shoulder, hot, breath damp on his skin. "I don't." He moaned, arched against Anton, pushing a little. "I'm going to have to go, soon." Anton's arms tightened around him, pulled him up hard against the lean body. "No!" "I thought you wanted steak?" Jesus, Anton was strong. "Oh." Anton's grip loosened slightly. "You meant to the kitchen..." "Well, duh. Where did you think I meant? I mean, I'm not really up to hitting the club tonight." "No clubs when you're naked. And no clubs without me." Anton did growly really well. "But I could find you some sweats so you can make me steak." "Sweats will work. We're going to have to discuss this possessive bone when I'm not naked, man." "I keep telling you I don't have a problem with it." Anton bit the back of his shoulder, and then that amazing heat disappeared as Anton went over to his dresser, rummaging through the drawers. "Yes, but..." Oh, the man did have a fine, fine ass. 91

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Anton grabbed the sweats and managed to drop them when he closed he drawer. Which meant the man bent right over as he picked them up. Bastard. Anton was doing that on purpose. That ass shook for him. There was no way that was an accident. No way. "I'm going to beat you. Quit stalling." Anton stood slowly and turned to him, cock half hard, rising proudly from the mass of curls. "Stalling?" "Uh-huh. You are teasing me with your butt. I have to work." He didn't look at Anton's prick. Nope. No more sex. Not right now. Anton looked down at himself and then spread his arms wide. "No butt." "What?" "You said I was teasing you with my butt. You can't see my butt. Maybe you need some more rest..." Anton grinned and slowly moved toward him. He rolled his eyes. "I need those pants. No more sex. My balls'll fall off." Anton's stomach rumbled loudly. "It looks like your balls are safe, for the moment. I need that steak. Maybe two." 92

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That tickled him and he just threw his head back and laughed. "Ah, romance. Pants, please." Anton handed them over, fingers sliding across his belly. "You said you didn't want anymore romance. You were worried about your balls." "Yep. I like them whole and not dried out, thanks." Anton reached out and cupped his balls in one hand, rolling and hefting them. "They feel just fine to me." "Mmm..." He rolled up on his toes, calves tensing. Anton squeezed and then let go, standing back and grinning smugly at him. "Fucker." He grabbed the pants and rolled his eyes. "I'll have your breakfast in an hour. If you stay out of the kitchen." "An hour?" Anton frowned and stepped closer again. "I can't wait an hour, Greg. I'm hungry." "Don't push, boss. In this, I know what I'm talking about." "What am I supposed to do for a whole hour? Aside from starve that is." "Work? Knit? You're a smart man. You can occupy yourself." He headed for the door. It probably wouldn't take him half the time, but he needed to make sure. He'd barely cleared the door when Anton joined him, 93

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wearing another pair of sweats. They looked well-worn and soft. "Watching you make me breakfast would occupy me." "I don't remember inviting you." He winked back. Man, he was starving. "It's my kitchen." Anton stayed on his heels like an overeager puppy. "Not during working hours. Then it's mine." "You've let me watch before." He could hear the pout in Anton's voice. "You'll have to promise to be good." Fuck, this was fun. "Greg. I'm always good. Very good." Anton's hand landed on his ass, squeezed it. "Stop it, or you'll starve." "What? I'm pushing you toward the kitchen!" "You know, innocent does not work for you." "You can't blame a man for trying." They went through the pantry, coming out into the kitchen, the sun bright as it shone in through the windows. Jason was at the island, eating peanut butter on toast. He shot them a look, and then mumbled a ‘good morning’ and put his dishes in the sink, taking off through the staff entrance without even waiting for a response. 94

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Greg raised an eyebrow at Anton, but the man just shrugged. “My business affairs keep him busy.” Going into the walk-in, Greg grabbed a T-shirt and his spare clogs. Toast. Egg. Steak. Possibly a fruit salad. Anton behaved. If sitting shirtless at his island and watching him with a heavy-lidded, heated gaze could be called behaving. It felt good, to get back into the swing of his work, to lose himself in chopping and searing, seasoning and plating. He thought Anton would get bored and wander off at some point, but the man stayed right there the whole time, watching him. He fed himself as he cooked, nibbling on pineapple, grapes, coconut. Then he gave a beautiful fruit salad with a hint of rum syrup to Anton. Anton looked at the bowl, and then back up at him, one eyebrow rising up. "This isn't steak." "You saw me sear the fucking t-bone. It's resting. Eat your first course." "Bitchy, bitchy." Anton speared a grape with his fork and popped it into his mouth. "Fruit is healthy and the sweet flavors will cleanse your palette." "Healthy..." Anton looked like he was about to roll his eyes, but instead he grinned. "You're looking out for me." 95

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"I'm your personal chef." He cracked three eggs, grabbed some Swiss cheese and a few lovely mushrooms. "My very personal chef." Shit, that low growl was sexy. "You know it. Do you like tomatoes in your eggs?" "Sure, why not?" Anton gave him a lazy grin. Jackson came in, and cleared his throat. "Would you like me to get you a shirt, sir?" "I'm good, Jackson." "Morning, man. Would you like some eggs?" Greg liked Jackson, honestly. The man was much more friendly and personable than the rest of Anton’s staff. Of course Jackson was a fan, the man had managed to show up just as he was making breakfast almost since the start. "Are you making that sauce with them?" "You know it. There's toast, too." He gave Jackson a grin. "Coffee?" "That would be lovely, thank you." Jackson put the mail he was carrying down in front of Anton and took a stool on the other side of the island. "Don't you have anything you should be doing, Jackson?" "Did you want that shirt, after all, sir?" 96

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Anton only growled. "Be nice. Jackson's a cool guy. Did you know he does crosswords? Fucking fast." Three cups of coffee -- one black, one with cream, one with sugar -- were fixed. "I knew that." Anton had a bite of pineapple. "Is there anything worth looking at in my mail?" "No, sir. I would suggest you let Jason deal with it." Greg slid a bowl of fruit to Jackson, grinning. "Oh, this is beautiful, Greg. Thank you." "It's fruit," Anton pointed out. "Yes, sir. I had noticed." Man, nothing ever ruffled Jackson and he always sounded calm and proper, even when he was sassing Anton. "He's a smart man, boss. Trust me." Greg stirred the eggs. Anton still looked less than impressed as he picked through the fruit, but Jackson dug in with gusto. It didn't take long before the steaks and eggs were ready, two plates served. "You aren't eating?" Anton asked, knife and fork resting just above the steak. "I..." He blinked, surprised. "I didn't even think about it." He was working, not eating. Growling, Anton cut his steak in half and put some of the 97

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eggs on top of it. "There." "Oh! You didn't have to give me your portion." Jackson began to push his plate across the island toward Greg. "Stop it. I'll make myself an omelet. There's this amazing Parma ham..." He could wax poetic about it. Anton rolled his eyes. "It has nothing on the steak." As if to prove his point, Anton cut himself a large bite of the beef and popped it into his mouth. The sounds he made as he ate were obscene. Greg chuckled and found some Swiss and the leftover ham, whisking the eggs, whistling. Jackson ate neatly, efficiently. Anton on the other hand ate as if he were starving, snarfing the steak down, and only slowing once it was completely consumed. And then there were the man's eyes. Anton watched him like a hawk, that heavy look like a touch. "Chicken for dinner? I could do a pasta." He nibbled and wandered, trying to convince himself to quit paying attention to those eyes. "Steak." Jackson chuckled. "Are you tired of the broken record yet, Greg?" "We are not having steak for every meal. Tonight is pasta with chicken." "With a side of steak?" Anton suggested. "Or as an 98

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appetizer?" Those eyes were still watching, still hot. "No steak." Fuck, he was caught up in that fine son of a bitch. "None? Are you sure?" Even the simple words felt intense, and out of the corner of his eyes he could see even the unflappable Jackson shifting a little. "Yep. Chicken. Some amazing sauce. Nice crusty bread." Anton licked his lips. "Served on a bed of chef?" Jackson cleared his throat softly. "I should get back to my duties. Thank you for the breakfast, Greg." "Any time, Jackson, man. Any time at all." God, he didn't want to alienate everybody he worked with... at least Jackson had eaten before he made his getaway. "Jackson, would you call that gallery owner and tell her that I won't be able to make our meeting this afternoon? Jason has the number." "Yes, sir." Jackson gave him a nod and a smile and disappeared out the door. "Mmm... we're alone again. Finally." "It was what? An hour?" He grinned, shook his head. "Have you decided what the theme is going to be for your big Halloween party?" "I have an idea or two. What would you suggest?" 99

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"Well, are you having a few guests with extravagant food or a ton of guests with merely fabulous food?" "Oh, my Halloween parties are legendary. There will be a lot of people. A lot." "Well, then." He pondered, chewing his bottom lip. "Lots of starters, things that can be frozen or pre-prepared." "What about the wild game you were talking about the first day you were here? We could do a wild theme." "Let me talk to the distributors, see what I can accomplish." Shark, they could do shark. Bison meatballs. Venison. "And what will you dress as?" Anton asked, hand wrapping around his arm and tugging him in close. "Like a chef. I'll be busy." Swamped. Cooking. Anton frowned, fingers sliding across his lips. "I want you to dress up." "We'll see when I get done cooking." "If you wait until then, you won't have a costume." Anton's fingers slid along his arm. "What should I dress as?" "Mmm. I don't know..." The man was beautiful as is. "A fairy princess?" Anton smacked his ass. Hard. 100

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"Ballerina?" Oh. Hot. Fucking hot. The growl was low and deep, another smack hitting his ass. "A daisy?" He was panting, thighs parted, cock filling in a rush. "You're enjoying this." Another smack hit his ass as Anton said 'this'. "I don't know what you're fucking talking about." Okay. No letting the boss in on your little happy kinks. Anton snorted and tugged hard on his arm so he was leaning over one long leg. "Right. You don't want this." His ass was smacked again. And then again and again. "Fucker. Let me go." Please, don't fucking stop. His thighs spread, hips pushing back toward Anton's hand. "You wouldn't like it very much if I did, would you?" Anton's hand came down on his ass three more times, each one harder than the last. "Jesus, you're good at that. I haven't ever had anyone as good as you." Anton growled loudly at his words, the smacks coming faster, harder. "Anton." He was going to shoot. Fuck. Fuck, it burned so good. "You don't want me to stop." It wasn't a question; Anton 101

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knew. He could hear it in the man's voice, could feel it in the way Anton's hand never hesitated. "I." Shit, he couldn't even think. He was in the fucking kitchen. "You don't want me to stop until you come." That rough voice just cut right through him. Another smack hit his ass, this one harder, pushing his aching prick along Anton's leg. "Fuck..." His toes curled and he started humping Anton, soft cries pushing out of him. "Later. This first." Anton's hand never faltered. "Yes." God, yes. He'd never had it so fucking good. "I want to do this without the clothes." "Yes. Fuck, yes." He nodded, jerking hard as the thought sent him over the edge. Anton's hand landed once more on his ass, and then slid over his abused flesh, rubbing. "B...bastard." He started to shake, looking around, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing. "You loved every second of it." Anton tugged him back up, hand still wrapped around his arm. The kiss was hard, Anton rubbing against him, prick like a hot iron against his belly. "Oh, man. I want to fuck. Want your cock." He wanted to 102

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feel Anton slapping against his ass. "Yes." Anton turned him, pushed him to lean over the island. "This is... Oh, fuck." Kitchen. This was his kitchen. He. The sound of Anton's pants sliding down seemed huge, and then his feet were kicked further apart. His sweats were yanked down, the air cold against the heat of his ass And just like that Anton's hot, huge prick was pushing into him. The world dissolved and he just fucking rode, pushing back onto that thick, burning heat, the burn making him soar. Anton's fingers dug into his hips, pulling him back into each thrust. Each push in slammed Anton's hips against his hot, sore ass. "Good." Yes. Good. Hot. More. The words just poured through him and he couldn't fucking think, couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything but breathe. One of Anton's hands slid around to grab at his prick, the touch rough and hard. Each thrust pushed his cock through Anton's fingers. He was going to fucking die. Just die. Tight and desperate, he did his best to squeeze Anton's cock with his sore, hot ass. 103

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"Yes! Greg!" He could hear Anton's howl in the words, the hand around his cock going tight enough he couldn't catch his breath. "Soon." All he could do was nod and squeeze, nod and squeeze. Come on. Come on, please. Anton's howl went straight to his balls, heat pushing up into him. His own body followed along, his come pushed right out of him. Anton rested against him, breath panting loudly in his ear, cock buried deep inside him. Greg shook, closed his eyes. He didn't fucking know what to think. "Come back to bed with me." "Yeah. Yeah. I." He just nodded. He couldn't think. Anton pulled away and tugged his sweats up, tucking him away. Then he was turned, Anton pulling him close for a long, deep kiss. He was so, so fucked. The kiss ended, Anton giving him a wolfish grin and tugging him along toward the back passage in the pantry. Yep. Fucked.

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Chapter Five Anton had thought that as the moon's influenced waned, the driving need he felt for Greg would back off. It wasn't working out that way. He still wanted the man all the time. He hated the thought of Greg having ever been with anyone else. He couldn't keep his hands to himself when they were in the same room. He grew twitchy and short-tempered when they were apart. It was like a sickness, this need, a desperation. And Greg kept insisting he had a job to do. Kept leaving his bed. It was maddening. And endearing. He wanted the man more with every passing day. Anton did what he could to fill the time that Greg insisted on spending in the kitchen. He played the piano and the 105

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violin. He read. He answered his correspondence, and he played the stocks, winning and losing money and not caring either way. Jason was impatient with him because he couldn’t focus on the work, but he knew the man would take care of his business interests for him. And it didn't matter what he did -- he always found himself back in the kitchen. Today was no different. Like a moth to the flame, he went to the kitchen, to find Greg, find his mate. The smells coming out of the kitchen were amazing. Greg had been testing for the upcoming party, creating the beginnings of lovely dishes. He still hadn't convinced the man to choose a costume yet, and if Greg didn't co-operate he was going to find himself playing Little Red Riding Hood to Anton's own Big Bad Wolf. The costumes were actually rather appropriate. "Greg?" He head tilted as he sniffed, searching for his mate's scent among all the others. "You are on the schedule as eating out tonight, Boss. I'm going to a movie after I finish getting these cheese balls in the freezer." Greg was leaning into the freezer, ass in the air. No, he didn't think so. He moved up behind Greg and rubbed along that tempting ass. "I have new plans." "Nope. I'm off the clock in five minutes. No more cooking. Movie." 106

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"Do you really think my plans would involve you cooking?" He tried not to be hurt that Greg wanted to spend his time off alone at a movie. It wasn't Greg's fault he was obsessed. Infatuated. That the beast inside him had decided that Greg was his mate. Greg chuckled, lifting up, cheeks bright pink. "You don't want steak before I have a day off? I'm shocked. What happened to your fancy dinner at Arco?" Perhaps he wasn't the only one a touch hurt. He touched one of those warm cheeks. "It lost its appeal." "I hear Jim is the best chef in the city..." He snorted. "That's because I've kept you to myself." "Bah." He did get a smile, though. "I'm off the clock, Anton. It's time to shower and put on street clothes." "Yes. I was wondering. Well. If you'd take a shower with me to begin with." Greg gave him a long, quiet look, and then a smile just beamed out. "Hey, I'm off the clock. I'd fucking love to." "Oh. Wonderful. And after that I want you to come with me to the costume shop. We'll pick our costumes for the Halloween party." And then they could have supper. And then he'd bring Greg home and they could do what they did best. "I won't be at the party, Anton. At least not until the very 107

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end. You've hired me to work it." Greg's fingers wrapped around his arm, stroking his skin as they headed toward his suite. "I'd love to help you pick yours out, though." He tried not to growl. He wanted Greg's food and he wanted the man at his side. He'd have to see what he could do to make that happen. For now he'd let it drop. "Where would you like to eat?" "Something low brow and greasy." At his look, Greg grinned. "What? Is it a crime to like burgers and fries?" Anton chuckled. "All right. We'll find some greasy spoon and slum it." He let Greg into his rooms, heading for the bathroom. His prick was already perking up. He didn't think they'd ever shared a shower without making love. His rooms were beginning to smell more and more like Greg, like them. It was heady, an addiction. Anton began to undress Greg as soon as they were in the bathroom -- the man got grumpy when he tore the chef's uniform off. Actually, Greg got grumpy if he tore clothing, no matter what it was. It was a foible he could put up with. Greg seemed as eager as he was, unbuttoning his shirt and offering him long, deep kisses. His fingers slid over Greg's skin, exploring the territory that he would now recognize anywhere just by touch. His. "Mmm. You have the warmest hands." Greg laughed, 108

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twisted a little under his touch. "All the better to touch you with." He nipped at Greg's lower lip, tweaked one of Greg’s nipples. "Mmm. The big bad wolf." If only Greg knew. Chuckling, he licked Greg's lower lip, and then bit it again. He could eat Greg right up. "Watch the teeth." Greg retaliated, biting him back. He hummed at the bite. "Why? Wasn't I biting hard enough?" "Perv." Mmm. Like that was a complaint. He bit again, and then walked Greg backward into the shower, pushing the man up against the tile, laughing as Greg gasped at the cold. "Turn the water on, man. This marble is cold." "And you don't like cold? Are you sure?" He pushed Greg harder against the tile, grinning. "Shit, yeah." Greg hooted, their bodies slapping together. He laughed, grabbing Greg's ass, warming the cold skin in his hands. "Fucking love your laugh, man, I do." Greg shook his butt, rubbing and rocking. 109

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He beamed down at Greg, and reached over to turn on the taps, rewarding the man with the blast of hot water. "Mmm." He got to see Greg stretch out, reaching into the water. Such a sensual, sexy beast. "I love the way you enjoy the water." "I like being wet, slick." Greg grabbed the soap, the scent of pine and herbs rich and strong. "Oh, I like it when you're wet and slick, too." He took the soap out of Greg's hand and began to soap up that sweet body. It was like watching someone dance; Greg's hips rocked back and forth, swaying to some unheard music. He cupped Greg's balls, soaped them, and slid his fingers beyond, letting Greg's own movements guide them back to the hot little hole. Greg spread for him, letting him touch, letting him have what he wanted. "Turn around, hands on the showerhead." It would stretch that lean body out for him. "Hmm?" Greg turned at the encouragement of his hands, arms lifting up. "Oh yes." Groaning, he slid his hands over Greg's shoulders, down his sides, and back up his spine, the soap leaving Greg's skin soapy and slick. A slight kick with his feet and Greg's legs parted. That sweet, tight ass tilted, offered right up to him. Groaning, he 110

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dropped to his knees and buried his face between Greg's ass cheeks, tongue sliding out, rubbing along Greg's crack, searching that center where Greg tasted the strongest. Greg's cry rang out, entire body rippling as he went up on tip-toe. "Anton!" He growled, teeth scraping along the tender skin, and then he stabbed Greg's hole with his tongue, the hot flesh gripping him. "Oh. Oh, fuck. Hot. More. Fucking need you." Oh, yes, he knew that. Knew that Greg needed him, Maybe almost as badly as he needed Greg. Surging up, he pushed right into that tight little hole, Greg stretching around him, making room for him. Greg leaned into him, head falling back, landing on his shoulder. That tight ass rippled, jerking around him. "Mmm..." He bit Greg's ear, fingers scraping down along Greg's sides. Then he began to rut, fucking Greg hard -taking what he needed and giving Greg everything the man wanted. It was perfect, the way Greg pushed back, rode him. Fucked that lean, fine body on his cock. Biting at Greg's neck, he put one hand on the man's belly, feeling the muscles work for him. "Mmmhmm. Touch me. Touch me, honey." Greg groaned, squeezing him. His free hand slid over Greg's skin, pinching those sweet 111

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little nipples, cupping the balls that were drawing up. He could feel each touch around his cock, Greg's ass clenching. Growling, he pulled up a new mark on the back of Greg's neck, his fingers finally wrapping around the heat of that hard, needy cock. "Yeah. Yeah, fuck." Greg shook, cock throbbing in his hand. "Come," he growled, the pleasure crashing down over him, and he squeezed Greg's cock tight, trying to hold his own orgasm back. Heat poured over his hand, Greg's body milking his cock. "Yes!" He screamed, hips jerking as he came, too, filling Greg with his spunk. Greg panted, resting back against him. "Good." "Uh-huh." It always was. Good and wild, even now with the beast mostly asleep. He licked water from Greg's skin, and then pulled out with a groan, fighting the instinct to pick Greg up and toss him on the bed, not let him out. "Mmm. You want a nap before we go out. man?" "That depends, Greg. Do you want to go out?" Once he had Greg in his bed, that would be it. "Mmmhmm. Eventually." 112

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"Then we'd better go." The words might have come out a little harsher than he'd intended, but he was trying to be good. "Huh? Okay. Okay, I'll go get changed. Meet you in half an hour?" "Ten minutes." The less temptation the better. "If you give me thirty, I can nap for fifteen." "I want to go now." Now before he threw Greg on his bed and covered him in more love bites than might be healthy. "Fine." Greg sighed, nodded and headed for the door. "I need some clothes." "One of these days I'm going to tell Rosa to move your clothes in here." He watched Greg go, wishing the towel would slip. Just a bit. Greg flipped him off, the door closing behind that fine ass. Growling, already missing Greg's presence, he pulled his own clothes on, hardly even paying attention. He wondered how long it would be before the rest of the staff said anything if he tied Greg to his bed permanently. Dressed, he went to the main hall and began to pace, waiting impatiently for Greg to return. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. Nothing. Growling, Anton headed for Greg's room. He wasn't to be blamed if they didn't get out of the apartment tonight. 113

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Greg's door was open, the scent of blood sharp, overwhelming. The room was covered in it. Covered. "No!" He howled, the pain nearly sending him to his knees. Shouting the word again, he ran in. "Anton." The word was weak, but the voice was Greg's, coming through from the bathroom. "Mine! Mine!" He stumbled into the bathroom, shouting for Jackson to call 911. "Anton." Greg was sitting on the floor near the commode, pale as a ghost. "Anton, someone..." Greg convulsed, heaving into the toilet. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight. No blood. No wound. Greg was alive. Unhurt. Whimpering softly, he slid to the floor and wrapped himself around Greg. "Someone... There's... I can't..." Greg was ice cold, shaking violently, staring past him into the room. "I thought it was your blood." He turned Greg's face into his chest, shielding his lover from the sight of all that blood. Someone had done this. Someone had invaded his home and threatened his mate. Anger fought with relief, making him snarl. "Anton. Someone. I can't stay here." 114

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"No. You'll stay with me." There was no way he was letting Greg stay anywhere else. Not now. A loud gasp had him turning sharply, Jackson gingerly picking his way across the room. "Greg? Anton? I've called 911. They want to... know the type of emergency." Jackson sounded like he was going to pass out. "Someone... Someone..." Greg's eyes rolled. "Out. I need out of here..." A woman's scream split the air as he stood, picking Greg up in his arms. "Senor Greg! Oh, no, no." Rosa started wailing. Greg shuddered, shook his head. "Anton. Please." He nodded, striding out of the room. "Deal with this," he snarled at Jackson as he passed the man. "And shut her the fuck up." The police were banging at the door by the time he got Greg into his room, wrapping the man in a blanket. He ignored it, trusting Jackson would take care of the police. And when they were gone and Greg was asleep, he'd go deal with it in his own way. Jackson's knock came a few moments later, the man's head appearing. "They need to speak to Greg, sir." He held Greg tighter. "Greg?" 115

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"I need some clothes." "Show them to the music room. Greg and I will be there in five minutes." "Very well, sir." "Are you sure?" he asked, as soon as Jackson left, not letting go. "What was that? Who did that to my room?" "I don't know, but I'm going to find out and I'm going to tear them limb from limb." "I need some clothes. I can't stay here. I..." Greg clung to him, holding on tight. "You can wear a pair of my sweatpants and a t-shirt." He carried Greg over to the dresser, managed to get the clothes out. He wasn't putting Greg down. Greg was his. Someone had threatened what was his. Greg started moving, slid down out of his arms and put on the clothes, still pale as milk. "Is everybody else okay? Was it just my room?" "I don't know," he admitted, staying close, touching Greg constantly. His only concern had been Greg. "We should find out. Make sure no one's hurt. You're okay, right?" 116

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"We should. And yes. I'm fine." He wasn't really. He would have been angry in any case, but the beast in him took this as a personal affront. That it had involved his mate -hishishishishis -- made it that much worse. "Okay." Greg reached out, touched his stomach. "Good." He pressed Greg's hand against his belly. "I will not lose you." "I'm okay. Let's make sure no one's hurt." There was a knock at the door, Jackson opening it without waiting for his say-so. He glared at the man, but it didn't seem to faze Jackson. It never did. "The police are waiting to speak to Greg." The police could wait two more fucking minutes. "Was anyone hurt? Did they damage anything else?" "No, sir. Just Greg's room." So his mate had been a target. He'd barely come to realize how important Greg was himself, how could an outsider know? He growled. "Sir. The police." "We're coming." He snarled, arm going around Greg's shoulders. Greg stepped out, patting his arm. "Remember, you're my boss, huh? We don't need them growling at us." 117

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He wasn't sure he could do this without touching Greg. Anton swallowed and nodded, tried not to glower as he followed Greg and Jackson to the music room where a policeman and a policewoman were waiting, tea and cookies on the table by them. Perhaps Jackson deserved a raise. "I'm Anton Lupi. This is my cook Greg Henderson whose room was... vandalized." "Officer Hardeson. This is Officer Moses. Were you injured, sir?" Greg shook his head as the policemen stood, shook both their hands. "No. No, I'd just gotten off shift and had gone to my room and it was..." Greg swallowed. "You saw." Anton bit back his growl, and used Greg's obvious distress as an excuse to touch him, rubbing Greg's back. Greg sat in one of the wingback chairs and Anton stood at his side, trying very hard not to loom. "We've got a forensics team coming to test the blood. When was the last time you were in the room?" "This morning about six. I had an idea for a little amuse bouche for the party -- something with cheese and peppers..." "Party?" 118

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"Yeah. Yeah, The boss has a big Halloween party. That's what we're all preparing for." "Yes. A hundred people. Costumes. Amazing food. Jackson could give you more details if you really need them. It isn't until Halloween Night." Just the thought of it was making his hackles rise. His instincts were telling him to go to ground, to take Greg into his rooms and not let anyone near. "And how many staff have access to your chef's rooms?" "There's Jackson, Rosa and whoever she brings with her to clean. Jason, my personal assistant. That's it." "We'll need to speak with everyone, and the forensics team will want to check for blood." "Jackson here will coordinate that with you. He has everyone's schedules." He tried not to growl. He hated this uninvited invasion into his home. Especially right on top of the attack on his mate. "When can I get in there and clean? All my clothes and books are..." Greg took a deep breath. "How did they get in?" "That's a good question." Anton turned to Jackson. "Well?" "Excuse me, sir, are you suggesting I let them in?" "Not on purpose, man." 119

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"Jackson wouldn't do that. The man won't even eat rare steak." "Someone let them in!" Anton did growl now. "Whether on purpose or not someone opened my door to an interloper and let them into my home!" "Did they? Or was it a break in? Maybe the stairs from the roof? The pool?" Greg stood, started pacing. "Did you look everywhere?" One of the policemen held up his hand. "We haven't begun our investigation, yet. We need to make sure what type of crime has been committed, here." "Jackson said no one's been hurt." "No one of the staff, sir. Just the room." "There." Anton glared. "Someone came in and threw blood all over Greg's room." He wanted to know who, but at the same time he wanted these policemen out of here. They didn't belong. "Yes, but we need to know what kind of blood it is." The buzzer rang and Jackson went to inquire. "We will cooperate, of course. I would like to get my home back to normal as quickly as possible." The forensic team trooped in, milling about and one of the officers led them toward the staff quarters. The other one -whose name he'd already forgotten, but who was bald and broad, almost fierce-looking -- stayed. 120

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He reached out to rest his hand on Greg's shoulder, turning what was going to be a caress into a pat. The urge to grab Greg and drag the man off to his room and examine every inch for himself was growing stronger with the presence of all these strangers in his home. On his turf. "Do you have any enemies, Greg? Anyone who wants your job?" "No. I mean, it's a great job, but I haven't been out flaunting it." Anton's hand twitched with the need to touch Greg. Instead, he began to pace. One by one, the staff and he himself had swabs rubbed across their skin. Only Greg's came up with a hint of blood. At the policeman's curious look, Greg merely shrugged. "I'm a chef. I've prepared meat all day." "It was his room that was blooded, of course he tested positive!" Anton wasn't sure how much longer he could be polite. "Relax, Mr. Lupi. We're just collecting evidence. If someone broke into your house, we need to know." "I'm sorry. I want to know as well. I'm just... This is my home. And it has been violated and instead of making it mine again there are strangers here, questioning me and my people." And his mate was across the room and didn't want him to 121

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touch. "Of course. I understand." The policeman nodded, looking serious. "I don't suppose you have any idea where the blood came from, Mr. Henderson?" "God, no. I mean, you can't get that out of meat..." "Actually, you can get it from a pig, quite a bit actually." A thin, dark haired woman appeared from the hallway, her eyes the same color of his. Family. One of his own pack. "That's what it appears to be. Pig blood, probably refrigerated for some time." "Maybe it was one of those anti-meat vegetarian fanatics?" Jackson suggested. "Maybe," Anton agreed. Not that he believed it for a moment. This was too... personal to be some faceless crazy person. "Perhaps. We've collected samples, found some fingerprints in blood on the stairwell." She was calm, sure, staring at him. "Then you'll be able to tell who did this." He didn't spend much time with the pack, but he was glad to have one of them here now, involved with the police. "There's always that chance, sir." Greg looked from the woman to him, and back. "Can I get my stuff now? I just want to get some clothes clean." 122

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"I don't want you going back there by yourself. Why don't I take you to buy new clothes?" "I. I just." Shock. Greg was going into shock. He glared at everyone in the room. "He needs to lie down. Anything else you need from him can be obtained at another time." "Is there a place he can rest while we finish our investigation? We need photos, some measurements." He was going to kill the officer. Truly. "He can stay in my rooms while you take your pictures and things. If you need anything else, Jackson will help you." He grabbed Greg's arm and began to drag him from the room. "I." Greg followed, hesitating at first and then moving faster, trying to escape to his suite. As soon as they were out of sight of the intruders, he wrapped his arm around Greg's shoulders, tugging Greg into the lee of his body. Greg pushed close, shaking. "Shit. Shit, man. I gotta. I can't. I." He picked Greg up, holding his mate's shaking body close against his own. As soon as they cleared the threshold to his rooms, the door closing behind them, his mouth crashed down on Greg's, their teeth clicking. Greg pressed close, clinging, lips parting for him. His. His Mate. He stumbled toward the 123

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bed, falling onto it, going down on top of Greg. Greg held him, holding on, almost hiding. "Mine," he growled, stretching Greg out beneath him, and then grinding down against the lean body. "Hush. Just touch me a minute." Anton growled again, tearing at Greg's borrowed clothes, needing skin, needing to see and to feel and to know that Greg was unhurt. Greg let him, let him touch and pet and feel. He sniffed Greg's neck, and then his pits, the flat belly and where the curls surrounded Greg's cock. Pushing Greg's legs apart, he scented the round balls and smooth skin beyond, the little wrinkled hole. Then he made his way back up again, licking and biting this time, little sharp nips that left tiny welts behind. His. His. His. Humping, he drove his prick against Greg's thigh. "I'm okay. You're okay. I swear." Greg grabbed his head, forced their eyes to meet. A sound caught in his throat and came out as a whine, his hips jerking. 124

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"It's okay, honey. I'm here." He got one kiss, then another and another. He just kept jerking against Greg -- he couldn't help it -and returned the kisses as best he could, his teeth catching Greg's lower lip, his tongue. Greg's fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him, sure and strong. He wrapped his mouth around Greg's shoulder, biting hard to muffle his howl as he came, cock spraying over Greg's hand and belly. "There. You're good. You're good." Greg patted, rubbed. He collapsed onto Greg, panting, shivering, hands wandering, finding sweet spots and just touching. Greg pressed close, lips on his temple, slowly relaxing under him. "You're okay," he finally said, beginning to believe it now. "Yeah. Yeah, a little wigged. Ready to move to a hotel on the East Side, but okay." "No!" He grabbed hold of Greg's arms, holding tight enough to bruise. "You'll stay here with me. You'll be safe in my rooms." "Easy, man." Greg pulled away a little, frowning. "Easy. It's been a tough day." He twined their legs together and tugged Greg back in against him, consciously keeping his hands from digging in. "Sorry. I just... I need you here. If you went to a hotel, I wouldn't know you were safe and it would be bad." 125

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"Shh. I can't think right now. I need a nap. Really. Please. Just let's take a nap." "Yes." He could nap. Or at least hold Greg while Greg napped. Anton pulled the covers over them, and wrapped around Greg, tucking the man within the semi-circle of his body. Greg relaxed, humming softly, clinging to him as the man fell asleep. Anton held on and watched Greg breathe. He let that soothe him. *** Blood. Everywhere. Just everywhere, like the world's biggest butcher shop. No matter where he went, no matter what he did, it was everywhere. Greg groaned, feet splashing in it, growling all around him. Growling. Dogs. Big dogs. 126

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Fuck him. He thrashed around, trying to see a door, a window. Something. The growling got louder, a hand grabbing his arm, tugging him. "Greg. Wake up." He gasped, eyes popping open, staring into Anton's eyes. The dark grey eyes were worried, looking into his own. "You were dreaming. Are you okay?" "Yes. Yes, of course. I was." Hadn't Anton's eyes been kinda gold? "About the blood? Jackson will have it cleaned, but it doesn't matter. You can stay here with me." Anton tugged him closer, holding him tight. "I. Should I? What if they attack you? You have more to lose." He was sure it was because he was sleeping with Anton. Sure of it. "I have you to lose. And I will not lose you." Anton's kiss was fierce. "I will not lose you." Possessive asshole. He shook his head. "You think it's someone pissed because we're sleeping together?" "Like who?" "I don't know. Jason doesn’t seem to like me much, but 127

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Jackson is the one that I worried about poaching from, but he... he's a good man." Jackson was decent. Anton frowned. "Jason has always kept to himself, and I have never even contemplated Jackson in that way, Greg. Never." "No? I mean, you can tell he... cares a lot about you. I mean, I don't know if he's queer, but you can see he cares." "He's been with me for a long time. He's..." Anton shrugged. "He's Jackson.' "Yeah. He is." He chuckled. "And he likes my eggs." Anton nuzzled his cheek. "I like your eggs. I like your steak better." "I... is it morning already? Did we sleep all night?" Anton shook his head. "No. It's just past midnight. We missed supper -- I was going to buy you greasy food." "You were. You want me to cook something?" "I could still take you out." Anton's hands tightened on him. "I don't have any clothes." Everything had been... Fuck. Fuck, he was never eating again. Anton growled. "Tomorrow I'll take you shopping. For 128

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tonight, we'll have something greasy and fries delivered. That way you can stay here." "You..." He looked straight at Anton. "You know you don't have to take care of me, right? You don't have to." "But I can and I want to." Man, Anton was going to cut off the blood flow in his arms if those hands tightened any more. "Easy, man. You're going to leave bruises." Anton really needed to breathe. Really. "Mmm... my bruises on your skin." "Quit it. No bruises." Well, none of those bruises. "You didn't complain about them yesterday. Or the day before." Anton found one of the marks on his throat and pressed it with his thumb. "Those were different. Those were... fun." "And these were because I'm stressed." Anton rubbed his arms. "Yeah. Exactly." Anton bent and kissed the red marks on his arm, and then bit into them, growling around his skin. 129

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Oh. Oh, damn. "I'm not sure I can feel sexy, yet, man. I'm still a little... Oh. There. Wigged." That wicked tongue flicked across his skin, and then Anton nosed his way down along the inside of his arm. One sharp, quick nip after another graced his skin. "Anton." Mouthy bastard. Sexy asshole. "Hmm?" Anton looked up at him, teeth poised against his skin. "You're biting me." "Not hard." Anton winked. "Not yet." "I don't know if I'm ready to not be wigged out yet..." Anton wrapped those lips around his wrist, started sucking strongly, pulling hard. Those dark eyes seemed to glow up at him. When he'd finally pulled off, Anton raised an eyebrow. "You want to be wigged out?" "Huh?" He was still caught in the throbbing of his pulse. Anton licked his own lips, and then Greg's wrist. "That's what I thought." That hot mouth closed over his palm, tongue licking, and then one of his fingers was taken in, Anton biting at his fingertip. He groaned, grabbed Anton's hand and returned the favor. Anton jerked, eyes seeming to glow even more. Those eyes... 130

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He. Wait. Weren't they? Anton surged back up, taking his mouth, his breath, his sense, with a deep kiss. Lost in the heat of it, Greg opened his lips, fingers caught in Anton's hair. Anton's tongue swept through his mouth, touching his teeth, his tongue, settling into a quick, fucking rhythm. One of his legs wrapped around Anton's hip, dragging them closer together. Yes. Yes, please. Soft growls filled his mouth, Anton's hands sliding all over his skin in almost lazy touches that were at odds with the quick, needy tongue-thrusts. The contrast was sexy as fuck, hot and just perfect. Anton's cock was hot and slid against his belly, burning. He arched, lips wrapping around Anton's tongue, sucking hard. Twitching, Anton slid that hard prick alongside his, the low growls getting louder. The man made some amazing noises. Jerking up, he pushed right back, hips rocking hard. Anton reached beneath him, grabbing his ass, fingers sliding along his crack. He pushed down, making his lover an offer. Groaning, Anton pushed two fingers into him, just like that. Good. Not exactly what he needed, but it was good and he'd take it. Greg bore down, rocking hard, taking those fingers to the knuckle. "Want you," growled Anton, pushing another finger into 131

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his body. "Need you." "Take me, then. Quit teasing." He nipped Anton's bottom lip. Hard. Anton growled and shifted, prick hot against his hole. "Yeah. Yeah, come on." Quit fucking teasing. Anton thrust, pushing deep. "Greg!" Growling, Anton thrust again. "Uh-huh." He nodded, spread, let Anton in deep. Anton fucked him hard, pushing into him over and over. For his part, he pushed back, ass slamming up into the cradle of Anton's hips. "Mine," growled Anton, fingers wrapped around his cock. "Possessive." And good. So good. "Yes." There was no denial, only that hard cock inside him and Anton's eyes, and the hand around his prick. "Well, I guess we understand each other..." Anton bent and bit his shoulder, teeth hard and sharp. "Fuck!" He was addicted to the son of a bitch. That hard cock spread him open over and over, Anton moving harder, faster, just pushing into him with power and strength. Their mouths crashed together, tongues 132

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fighting each other as things ratcheted higher and higher. Anton's hand squeezed him tight, Anton's thumb pushing into his slit before the stroking began again. The little burn made his toes curl, made him shake and moan, ass squeezing around that hard cock. Their teeth clacked together as the kiss became wilder, and Anton's thumb pushed in again, lingering this time. Fuck. Fuck. He jerked, legs going tight as he shot, spunk spraying. Anton howled for him, the sound going right down his spine, and heat filled him deep inside. It was just what he'd needed, that pressure, the heat. The strong, hot body collapsed down onto him, Anton nuzzling into his neck, licking and kissing, and making soft, happy noises. "Mmm. Don't fall asleep on me. You promised burgers." "I did, didn't I?" Anton licked at his skin. "Do you want to go out or have it brought in?" "You said we could have it in, love." His eyes fluttered closed. "I don't have clothes." "I know a place that will deliver." Anton took another stinging bite, and slid out of bed, grabbing the phone. "In the middle of the night? Lucky bastard." 133

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"Money has its privileges." Anton gave him a wink and then turned his attention to the phone, wandering toward the window as he placed his order. Greg nodded and smiled weakly, heading for Anton's shower. It did have privileges. He remembered his room, the destruction, the blood. It also had its issues.

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Chapter Six He was running through the forest, paws barely hitting the ground as they propelled him forward. As he chased the wolf who dared to come into his territory. The other wolf finally stopped and turned, coming toward him full on. Anton would give no quarter and he made no attempt to slow his forward momentum or to angle out of the way of the oncoming interloper. Their bodies crashed together and Anton sat up with a gasp, his heart racing. His bed was empty. The sheets were cold. "Greg!" He raced to the bathroom, looking for Greg in his shower. Greg was there in the whirlpool tub, earphones on as he floated, sound asleep. Anton nearly fell to his knees, his relief was that profound. For a moment, he'd thought... Growling, he pulled the earphones from Greg's ears. "Are 135

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you crazy? You could drown!" "Huh?" Greg sat up, eyes huge, feet scrambling on the bottom of the tub. "What? Fuck!" He saw it just before it happened, Greg's ass sliding on the tub, the back of his mate's head smacking against the edge. Barking out, "No!", he shot his arm out, the beast's innate instincts fast enough to save Greg's head from bashing the ceramic. Greg blinked at him, just staring. "What the fuck is going on?" "I woke up and you were gone." He hadn't meant it to come out as an accusation, but it did. "You. I. Wait." Greg stared at him, the look going from confused to furious. "I'm not required to be in your bed." "You were there when I went to sleep!" "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I need. I'm going to a fucking hotel, man. I don't need this right now." "What? No!" He took a breath, trying to calm down, realizing that for some reason Greg was resisting them being mates. "I can't protect you in a hotel, Greg." "I don't need protection. I need sleep. I need things to be normal. I fucking need a pair of briefs that are mine!" Greg was so pale, the ink standing out. "We'll buy you clothes when the stores are open. And if 136

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you move into my rooms with me, then that will be normal and you can sleep in my bed." He bit off the words 'where you belong'. "Jesus. I can't think right now. This whole thing is fucked." "You should come back to bed and get some sleep." Back to bed where he could be sure no one could get to Greg. "Okay. Okay, but no fucking, no weirdness. I just need to rest." He pulled Greg out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel. "Weirdness?" "No growling at me and acting like we've made promises to each other. We haven't. We've just started learning each other and shit, you know? You don't know me yet." It hurt him that Greg didn't feel it, that the man didn't know that they were mated as he did. However, he would do what he had to. "I thought you liked the growling." "I do." Greg shook his head, sighed a little. "I feel lost, man. Like I've walked through the looking glass." He picked Greg up and brought the man back to his bed. He hated seeing that sad look in Greg's eyes. "No growling. No weirdness. Just sleep." "Maybe a little growling." Greg chuckled and pulled him close. "Man, you rich people live complicated lives." "I'm not really that complicated." He pulled the covers up 137

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over them both and nibbled softly on Greg's neck. He was different, not complicated. "No? You're the most complex man I've ever been with." He frowned. "Because I have money?" "No. I mean, I don't think so?" Greg shrugged. "I haven't dated-dated anyone with money before. I mean, I've played with some -- scenes and stuff -- but that was different." He growled at the mention of the other people Greg had dated, and "played" with. "I never dated a growler, either. It's surprisingly hot." He wasn't sure he appreciated being called "a growler" either. Which made him growl harder and he pressed his lips to Greg's, shutting the man up. Greg chuckled, kissed him back almost playfully. He stretched out on his back, bringing Greg over to lie on top of him. Maybe it would help if Greg felt more in control. "Mmm." Greg grinned, leaned down hard against him and snuggled in. "Comfy?" he asked, fingers sliding along Greg's back, letting Greg feel his nails. "Uh... uh-huh..." He felt Greg relaxing, trusting him, ballsdeep. He resisted the urge to bite at Greg's neck. The man wanted to sleep for some reason. 138

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"I dreamed that a big dog was hunting me. Isn't that weird? Like a huge dog." Anton stilled. "Hunting you? Why?" "I don't know. It was a dream, huh? Just weird, because I love dogs. Grew up surrounded by them." "Maybe it wasn't hunting you to hurt you." But maybe it was, depending on who the dog was. After all, he'd had that dream of fighting another alpha... "It wanted to... I don't know. It wanted to bite me." Greg actually shuddered, held onto him. He held Greg tight and whispered into his lover's ear. "No one gets to bite you but me." "Promise?" "Absolutely." He nipped at Greg's earlobe. "Okay. You don't scare me." Greg kissed his jaw. "Well, maybe you do, but not because of the biting." "I scare you?" "Yeah. Kind of." Greg opened his eyes, stared down at him, so serious. "I'm not real big on long-term stuff. You make me think thoughts." 139

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"I make you think long term thoughts?" Maybe Greg thought they were mates after all. "Yeah. Kind of. It's really not my thing, but..." Greg grinned again, touched their noses together. "You are." "Mmm... good." He grabbed Greg's ass, holding on, rubbing them gently together. "I think I'm going to have to find another job, love. I don't think I can keep being your employee." "What? You can't leave!" His fingers curled, digging into Greg's ass. "I can't work for you and be your lover, Anton." "Oh." He nodded, relief flooding through him. "You don't have to work. You can stay with me -- I have enough money." "We'll talk about it in the morning. I like working. I like working for you. I just like being your lover more." "I could just stop paying you." "Yeah, that's what not working for you means." Greg goosed him, hard. He jumped beneath Greg and goosed the man back. "I mean you could keep cooking me steak, I just won't pay you." 140

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"I promise to cook you steak whenever I can, love." "You don't need to work," he repeated. He didn't want to be without Greg for hours on end. He wasn't willing to let anyone else having Greg "If I want to use my skills, I do. I like being a chef." "I don't want you to go." He said the words softly, trying not to growl, trying not to be possessive. Even if he was. "You wouldn't want to come eat at a restaurant I cooked at?" Greg was fading, blinks getting slower and slower. "Of course I would. But I want it to be here." He stroked Greg's back gently, encouraging the slow blinks. "Mmm. This isn't... isn't a restaurant, love." "I know." He knew. But he wanted it all. Greg hummed, eyes falling closed. "Sleep, mine." he murmured. "Mmm. Love." Greg patted his belly, smiled. He growled softly at the word, and held Greg tighter. Greg settled against him, falling asleep, ear to his heart. Anton breathed Greg in, let the scent soothe him to sleep as well. ***

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He was never going to get everything cleaned. Ever. Greg went back to the kitchen for another bucket of soapy water, his back aching, shoulders burning. Pig's blood. Someone had come into his room and covered it in pig's blood. Anton came in, looming over him at the sink. "I said I would get someone to do that." "I know. I needed to do it." He started filling the bucket. "I thought you were going to move into my rooms with me." "I am. Still, my things were in there, Anton. You have to understand that." He couldn't just give up who he was. "Of course. I'm sorry. I can still get someone to help you." "Rosa helped some. I'm getting close to done." Anton lived in his own world sometime. "The police have no clue who did it. A locksmith is coming to change all the locks." Anton slid a hand over his cheek. "I'll feel better once you're all moved into my rooms." "Yeah, until they hit your rooms." "I will keep you safe, Greg. If they are so bold as to attempt to do this to me? I will tear them limb from limb." Anton's voice took on a fierce, growling note. 142

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"That would probably be harder than it sounds. People are sort of tough." "If anyone hurts you, I'll do it." "I almost believe you." He lifted the bucket, wincing as his shoulders screamed. Anton growled, taking the bucket from him. "You’ve hurt yourself." "Just sore. I lifted a lot of water." He held up his hands -scarred from years of cuts and burns, now blistered. "I'll live." "You've done enough work for today! Rosa can finish it. You need first aid." Anton put down the bucket and tugged him toward the pantry. "Dude, so a sweet old lady is supposed to do it when my young, skinny ass can't? That's mean." "It is her job. Or I can hire a company that specializes in removing blood. The police gave Jackson a card." "A company, huh?" He tilted his head, blinked at Anton. "What are we doing in the pantry?" "Going to my rooms." Anton opened the secret door and tugged him along the passage. "Oh. Duh." He shook his head, grinned. "Man, I'm stupidtired." 143

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"You're stubborn is what you are." "Well, that's sort of a given." He'd always been stubborn. Anton chuckled. "Well, now I know." The door was opened for him, Anton's hand in the small of his back leading him to the bathroom. "Did you know my shower has a massage setting?" "Oh..." His weakness was a great shower, sensation. Strong fingers tugged off his clothes, carefully pulling his tshirt past his blistered hands. "What have you been doing all day?" He stepped out of his ruined sneakers, toed off the wrecked socks. "Paperwork, filling out forms, dealing with the police." Anton was stripping as well, pulling off his turtle neck and the expensive dress pants. "I'm sorry. I wish I knew who was mad at me..." "You assume you were the intended target of this." Shit, Anton was a good-looking man. "Well, yeah. Whose room was it before me?" He trailed his hand along Anton's hip. "The last cook." Anton moved in close, pushed him into the shower. "It was my house that was broken into, vandalized. So it might be me who was targeted." 144

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"Maybe. Although it sure feels like it was me." Oh. Hot water. Man. "You've already said you can't think of anyone who was that pissed off at you." Anton fiddled with the taps and all of a sudden the water was pulsing down on his shoulders, beating his muscles in all the right ways. "I. Huh? Yeah. Whatever. Okay." Whatever. So. Good. Anton just smiled and tilted his head, taking a soft, slow kiss. He sort of melted, just melted into Anton's arms. Magic. His lover was just magic. The long body supported him, held him as the water pounded down against his aching shoulders. "So good." He moaned out his pleasure against Anton's lips. "Mmm... Yes." Anton's fingers dug into his hips, tugging him up tight against all those muscles and heat. "More." He pressed close, moaning into his lover's mouth. "So needy." Anton's hand slid down to his ass, squeezed hard. "That's your fault." This whole thing -- from the great sex to the weird stalking to the fact that he was fucked-up in love. All Anton's fault. 145

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A soft growl vibrated against his lips, Anton getting toothy again, biting his lip, sucking on his jaw. "Hungry bastard..." He blinked, grinned. "Do you have family?" "Not the way you mean it." Growling, Anton moved to suck up yet another mark on his neck. "Uh. Mmm. No? Your parents gone?" His were. He had a sister in Arizona, a brother in Chicago, that's all. "Long ago." Anton bit down hard on his neck. "Oh. I. I'm sorry." Oh, fuck. That felt good. Anton answer was a growl around his skin, those hands touching sliding over his skin. "Don't stop, man. Feels fine." He could feel the heat building where Anton's lips met his skin, Anton sucking the blood up to the surface. It didn't seem Anton was planning to stop anytime soon. He raised his chin, water pounding on him, throat working. Anton rumbled around his skin and he could feel the low vibrations all the way down to his toes. "Mmm." His eyes closed, the sound making him ache, making him moan. Fingernails slid over his back, dragging lightly on his skin, as Anton rumbled again, and growled, working the mark, 146

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making it hotter and hotter. "Going to make me look like a leper..." Or something. Anton shook his head, the motion stretching his skin, making Anton's teeth feel sudden and sharp. And then the hot mouth left his skin, Anton gazing into his eyes, the look hot and needy. "Like mine. You're going to look like mine." "Fuck." That possessive thing was... hot. Weird, but hot. "We can do that. But with your hands all blistered we should do it in bed." "Mmm. I. Okay. Okay, man." He'd love that. Anton turned off the wonderful massaging water, and drew him out of the shower. He was toweled off and then carried away to the big bed. Anton seemed to be doing that a lot. "Jesus, you're strong." He slung one arm around Anton's neck, leaning in. "All the better to fuck you." Anton grinned at him, mouth closing over his in a hard, quick kiss. "Mmm. My big bad wolf." "Yes." He was dropped down onto the mattress, Anton following him down, pressing against him. 147

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"Fuck, you're warm." Warm, and the bed was soft, and Anton kissed him so hard that he couldn't think. In no time at all, without him hardly even noticing, Anton had three fingers inside him, spreading him open. "Oh..." He blinked, rocking a little, pushing down on the touch. Hell, yes. "Want more?" Anton's eyes glittered down at him. "More." Oh, fuck. Full. "Okay." Anton's fingers disappeared and he shifted restlessly, but before he could find the words to complain, they were back, slick and slippery and stretching him so fucking wide. Shit, Anton was using four fingers. "I. I. Oh. Full..." He grabbed his knees, pulled them up and back. "Look at you. Four fingers and you still want more." Anton bit the side of his ankle. "I. I haven't. I don't know if I... Full." Anton's fingers slid in and out, stretching him, hitting his gland. "Love!" He jerked, feeling like he was going to split. Those fingers just kept moving inside him, pushing deep 148

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and then deeper, spreading and stretching him and then spreading him some more. He was babbling, he knew it, it just couldn't stop. There wasn't room for anything but Anton. "Ready for more, Greg? Want more?" He didn't know. He didn't know if he could. If he would stretch. "I'm so full." "You could be fuller." Anton's hand slipped away. "But not if you don't want it." A lost, desperate sound left him, his body following that touch. "Shh. Shh. I'm just getting more lube." Anton's fingers returned, coated in cool gel that warmed quickly as those four fingers pushed back into him. His lips parted, body welcoming that touch, welcoming his lover in deep. "I want to do it, Greg. I want to hold you in my hand." "I haven't..." He'd done so much, so much, but not that. He never had. "Yes!" The word was fierce, Anton leaning to whisper in his ear. "Then I will touch you as no one else ever has." He couldn't speak, just moan, pressing closer to Anton's heat, Anton's strength. 149

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Four fingers stretched him, pushed more lube into him, and opened him up. "Now, Greg. Are you ready for me?" "Don't tear me." By admitting his fear, his body could relax, he could breathe. "Never." Anton lips pressed against his, the kiss almost sweet and easy. "I will not tear you." Greg met the glowing eyes, relaxing into Anton's gaze, the trust between them rock-solid. "Mmm... yes, let me in." Anton pushed, hand stretching him impossibly. His eyes were wide, heart pounding. "Anton." "I'm going to be inside you, Greg. My whole hand." Anton pushed harder, more of his hand pushing into Greg's body. "F...f...full." A deep groan vibrated out of him, deep and raw. Anton moaned, hand still moving, still pushing into him. All of a sudden his body closed over Anton's wrist, the sound almost a snap. He almost screamed, muscles tight, entire body shaking. Soft kisses pressed over his face, his neck, Anton growling softly. The hand inside him stayed still, buried deep. "M...Mate." The word pushed out of him and he frowned, not understanding, not understanding at all. "Yes!" Anton's voice was fierce, the fingers inside him 150

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flexing, moving a little. His legs jerked, spread wider. "Mine. Mine." Anton's hand opened and closed with each word. His shoulders left the mattress, soft little cries escaping him with each motion. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. "Look at you," growled Anton. "All mine." Fingers turning into a fist, Anton began to fuck him with that hand, moving slowly, but surely. "I... So big. So big." "Yes. My hand is inside you. No one has ever touched you this deep." Anton's eyes seemed to flare. "No one. No one ever." "Mine." With a growl, Anton's mouth took his, tongue pushing deep as that solid hand moved faster. He came -- he couldn't not, he couldn't do anything else -seed spraying over his own stomach. That hand kept on moving, Anton's kisses stealing his breath. His prick never went soft. He just stayed caught, trapped right there. "Never forget this," growled Anton, breaking from the kiss, mouth moving to nip and lick at the marks on his neck and torso. "No." Never. He. Oh. 151

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Anton's tongue swirled around his nipples, one and then the other, teeth threatening but not coming out, not biting. And still that hand moved, Anton's knuckles brushing across his gland. "Please." Sobbing, he was sobbing, completely undone. With that Anton's mouth slid around his cock, pulling strongly. The world spun, tilting on edge, leaving him dazed and groaning as he faded into pure sensation. He could feel the vibrations from Anton's growls around his cock, and they echoed in his ass where Anton's hand spread him. His eyes rolled back and he shot again, entire body shaking weakly. Anton drank him down, the hand inside him stilling, solid and there, but still and quiet now. "Anton." He didn't move, just tried to remember how to breathe. "Right here." Anton kissed his belly, and then the hand inside him began to move again, pulling away. "Just relax now." He reached out, moaning and reluctant to lose his lover. Anton's free hand caught his, their fingers twining together, his blisters stinging a little, and Anton’s other hand kept pulling away, slowly but surely. And then suddenly it was gone, his hole closing up tight. Greg whimpered, limbs so heavy, heart pounding. Anton kept his legs spread and bent to kiss his hole, and then his lover's body covered his, Anton humping hard against him. He tried to help, but his hands were clumsy, his kisses sloppy. 152

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It didn't seem to matter anyway, Anton moved harder and faster, grinding down against him, breath loud and panting in his ear. "Fuck. Soon, Greg." "Come on. Let me smell like you." Anton's hips snapped at his words, the man's long neck exposed to him as Anton threw his head back and howled. Heat sprayed over his cock and belly, hot and yeah, smelling strongly of Anton. Smelling like sex and man and love. Love. Damn. Anton settled on top of him, solid and strong and heavy, nuzzling into his neck. "Love." A low growl vibrated against his neck. "Yes. Mine." "Mmmhmm." He could live with that. For now. The nuzzling became toothy, the short, sharp bite making his ass clench. He swatted Anton idly, floating on the sensations. Anton chuckled, air blowing against his neck. "Cheeky." 153

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"Mmmhmm." Yeah. Whatever. Boneless. Anton's laughter was sweet and tickled his skin, and then the long body rested against his, one of Anton's arms lying across his hips, hand curled possessively around him. Right where he belonged.

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Chapter Seven He thought he might scratch all his skin off. Or tear his limbs off his own body. Or any number of things that would make him stop itching deep under his skin. Anton prowled through the halls, both secret and not, of his apartment. He went into each room, sniffing out the pockets of air that held the scent of his mate. They still didn't know who's vandalized Greg's room. Greg himself was out looking for a job somewhere else. Somewhere else. Just that was enough to have him howling day and night. And the moon was coming. She was still some days away, but she was coming. He could feel her deep inside. She was coming; there would be no denying her, and he had still not told Greg. How could he? He was already losing the man, what with this ridiculous need to go find a new job. To commit to something that would take Greg away every day. 155

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Anton picked up a figurine in the music salon and flung it across the room. It hit the wall and shattered into a million little pieces. And it made a very satisfying sound. Growling, he picked up a vase and sent it, flowers and all, to the same fate. Yes! He felt a little better. Maybe. "Dude, what did that vase do to you?" Greg's hand slid up along his back, fingers curling around his shoulder. Oh, that was even better than the sound the breaking glass made. Growling, he spun around, wrapping his arms around Greg and taking the man's mouth in a kiss borne of his frustration and need. Greg whimpered, tongue pushing into his lips. He grabbed it and sucked at it, still growling low in his throat, the need overwhelming everything else. His mate pressed close, hand pressing against the back of his neck. Everything fled from his mind but this: the touching, the kissing, the needing. Hand on Greg's ass, he walked his mate backward until they reached the side of the piano. He bent Greg back over it. "I. Will I hurt the... Oh..." Greg's legs wrapped around his waist. He tugged at Greg's shirt and pants, fingers fumbling as he tried to reach skin. He'd become used to the chef's coat and checks, to a t-shirt and sweats. Growling, he tore open Greg's shirt, fingers pouncing on the skin they finally found. 156

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"Hey. Hey, man." Greg grabbed his fingers, held them tight. "Anton. Breathe. What's wrong, love?" Nothing. Right this very moment nothing, except that Greg was stopping him. "Need you," he growled, hips pushing his prick against Greg's crotch. "I'm right here." Greg pushed back, giving him some friction. Yes, but his lover wouldn't always be there, would he? Not if he got a job somewhere else and left every day. Growling again, he ground against Greg, mouth finding the hollow of one collarbone and worrying it. Greg groaned, pushed him back. "Anton. The piano's digging in." He pulled Greg up and pushed the man over to the settee. It didn't take much of a shove to push Greg down onto it, and he landed on top, humping against him like a dog in heat. Greg relaxed under him, one hand rubbing his back, the other stroking his hair, obviously trying to calm him, ease him. He wouldn't be calmed though, he didn't want to be. He wanted to be buried inside Greg and he wanted to be able to stay there. Anton went for Greg's pants again, fingers a little more nimble this time, managing to tug open the dress slacks. "No tearing them. They're new." All of Greg's clothes were new. 157

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Growling a little, he nipped at Greg's right nipple. He didn't tear them, though, instead he tugged them down over Greg's hips, the waistband of Greg's underwear catching on the hard cock and refusing to pull down past it. He tugged a little harder. "Jesus!" Greg jerked away, snarling a little. "Okay, look. You want to be pissed off, let's fight. You want to have rough sex, let's not do it while you're mad." "I'm not mad." Except that he was angry. But not at Greg. Well, maybe a little. He snarled himself and backed away, trying to ignore the instinct to just tear the clothes off Greg and take him hard, remind them both who Greg belonged to. "Okay... What are you? Hungry? Tired? Frustrated?" Greg sat up, looked at him, head-on. "Itchy."He growled softly and retreated some more, began to pace to keep from pouncing. It all made him itchy, from the lack of progress by the police, to Greg's job-search, to the moon's damned tugging at him. "Let's go swimming." "I don't--" He bit off the rest. Maybe swimming would be okay. Greg and wet and something physical. "Okay." Besides, Greg liked the water. "Cool." Greg popped up, kissed him hard and fast. "Race you." Then Greg was gone, running hard, giving him his laughing mate to chase. 158

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Growling happily, he followed, sprinting toward his secret passage way -- it was the fastest route up to the private pool. There was nothing like the thrill of the chase, and he couldn't wait to catch up to Greg and pounce. Greg was half stripped when he reached the pool, panting and laughing, kicking off his shoes. Anton grabbed Greg's waist and swung him around, kissing that laughing mouth. "Caught you." "Mmm. You did." Greg kissed him back, eager and happy now, meeting him halfway. "Get naked." "You could get me naked." Because doing it himself meant letting go of Greg. "I could, but then I'd still have my pants on." Greg slipped from his arms, still teasing him, distracting. He followed, pulling at his turtleneck, getting it up and over his head while he toed off his shoes. He tried to pounce Greg again, but his mate eluded him, laughing. It made him growl -- it made him hard. Greg slipped into the water before he finished removing his slacks, lean body sliding in easily. He whimpered and shucked his trousers, eager to be in the water with Greg. He wanted to feel that lean body pressed against his own. Anton dove in. Greg swam up to him, skin slick and sweet, cock sliding on his thigh. "Hey." 159

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"Mmm..." He slid his hand along Greg's back to cup the pert ass. "Better?" Greg was treading water, legs moving lazily. "Starting to be." He loved how the water made Greg happy. "Good. Come on, swimming." Greg slipped away, swimming out and then coming back. As Greg turned to swim out again, he followed, staying close enough he could feel the warmth of that lean body through the water. Greg moved toward him, and then slipped away, flirting and playing with him, keeping his attention. He gave chase, lazily at first, and then as Greg continued to evade him, he became more serious about it. The heat between them began to grow, slowly but surely, Greg moving faster, pushing harder. The chase was more fair here in the water, more even with Greg's strength in swimming. Here Greg pushed him to work harder, and he was out of breath. Greg was panting, leading him on a merry chase. He finally caught hold of one foot, but it slipped from his hands, the water making Greg's skin slick. Growling, excited, he swam harder. Greg let himself get herded into a corner, trapped. He grinned, not even caring that Greg had let him capture his mate. "I have you now." "Mmm. You do. What are you going to do with me?" 160

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"I'm going to eat you up so you can't escape." "Promises, promises." He nodded. It was a promise. Greg was his. He leaned in, teeth snapping near Greg's ear, the sound echoing strangely in the pool. Then he leaned in and bit Greg's neck, teeth rubbing the wet skin. Oh, that cry echoed, sharp and needy. He grabbed onto the edge of the pool and pressed up against Greg. Rubbing, he slowly worked his way up along Greg's throat to his lips. Relaxed and eager against him, Greg rubbed and moaned, cock sliding on his skin. Reaching Greg's lips, he pressed his own against them, tongue pushing in, tasting his mate. Greg's hand settled at the base at his spine, fingers rubbing in lazy circles. Groaning, he thrust, his prick sliding along Greg's, the heat feeling amazing in the cold water. He would have to remember this -- that his mate responded so well in the water, to being chased. Their tongues fought together, hips pushing, thrusting. "Mmm. That's good." Greg's legs wrapped around his waist, dragging them closer together. He shifting, sliding a little and then pushing again, his prick sliding beneath Greg's balls, bumping against that sweet hole. "That's better." "Yeah. Yeah... It could be even better." 161

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He grinned wildly. "It could." He pushed, just the head of his prick stretching Greg's hole open. Greg nodded and pushed down, smile wild. Groaning, he thrust forward, sliding deep into the tight heat. "Anton..." Oh. His mate. His own. Welcoming him in. He thrust, the cold water rushing against his prick, and then Greg's incredible heat surrounding him again. Greg's eyes seemed to glow for a moment, to shine as that body squeezed him. He stared, fascinated as his pleasure threatened to spill over. He thrust harder and harder, wanting Greg to be as wild as he was before they came. "There. There. More. Now." Greg's nails skittered up along his back, scoring him. He'd never had a lover who had a wild streak to match his own, and it made him howl. He fucked harder, hitting that spot inside Greg over and over. Greg pushed closer, teeth on his earlobe, tugging. "Make me yours. Fuck. Anton." That ass squeezed, rippling around his cock, milking him. He howled again, hips snapping as he came hard, filling Greg in long pulses. As he eased back down, heart slowing, he saw the slack pleasure in Greg's face, the way Greg floated, completely boneless. He hadn't been alone. He held onto his mate, growling softly as he scented along Greg's neck, licking at his lover's collarbone. 162

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"Mmm. Hey." "How did your job hunt go?" he asked, more able to talk about it with his prick still deep inside his mate. "Slow. It's a bad time of year. No one wants to train so close to the holidays and then it's a slow time. I'll look harder after we get the Halloween party over." "Wait until the new year." Wait forever. "Mmm. Do you have a big Christmas party?" "I do. I have several." He'd hire a new chef if Greg didn't want to work for him while being his lover. "You can help me plan them." "That sounds like fun. Have you eaten?" Greg arched a little more, ass slowly working his prick. He shook his head. "I was... preoccupied." "I should cook us something wonderful. Maybe a roulade with steak and parmesan..." Right. Cooking. "Or you could just sear off a steak and then we could devour it before we devour each other." "You need more than just steak, love." "I do not." "Yes, you do." He felt that laugh, all through his prick. 163

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"I could live on steak and you, Mate. What would you have me eat that could be better than that?" "Gnocchi with gorgonzola. Pork loin stuffed with pine nuts and apricots..." He had to admit it, that all sounded good. "Well. If you put it that way..." "See? I have a lot of recipes." Greg stretched, gripping him tight. Groaning, he nibbled at Greg's neck. "You think you can keep me interested in these other recipes?" "Strawberry and feta salad. Coconut shrimp. Cappelini pomodoro..." "Now you're just making things up." "I am not. Cappelini pomodoro is thin pasta with garlic and tomatoes and basil." Greg's eyes glittered for him. "There's no meat in that," he pointed out, hips beginning to move again, circling very slowly, moving his prick inside Greg's tight body. "N...no. No, there's not..." Greg's lips parted, stomach muscles rippling. "Don't forget the meat." He pulled out and shoved back in again on the last word. 164

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"Gonna put you on a vegetarian diet, you carnivore." "You wouldn't dare." Another thrust punctuated his words. "I would." Greg bore down, pushing right back. "I would have to beat you." It could be fun. Except for the vegetarian part. "Promises, promises." Laughing, he took Greg's hands and spread them out on the edge of the pool as he began to fuck Greg harder. "I'm all slippery..." One of Greg's hands slid out and he grabbed the long fingers. "But I've caught you." "Yeah." Greg moaned, rippling for him. "And you're mine." He bit beneath Greg's chin. "Mine." "Possessive ass." "Yes." There was no use denying it. Especially as he needed Greg to understand that the man was indeed his. He pushed harder into Greg's body, fingers squeezing the hands he held tight. Greg stretched, adding that lean strength to his own, moving on his own. He found a mark on Greg's neck that was fading and bit into it, drawing the blood up to make it darker again. 165

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"Love." Greg moaned, relaxed around him, responding to him. He needed this, needed Greg. The man's cock was hot between their bellies, sliding as they moved together. "We make love more than anyone I know." "They must be jealous." He growled, pushing harder. "Yeah." He pulled Greg up, those arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him close. "Mine," he whispered again, humping and rubbing, losing himself as he always did in the scents and feelings of his mate. "Yeah. Come on, love. Come on." Greg's words whispered against his temple, soft, comforting. He muffled his howl on Greg's shoulder, hips pumping as he came. "Mmm." Greg hummed, holding him close. "Stay home with me tomorrow." He nuzzled into Greg's neck. "We'll go shopping. We'll have fun." "Yeah. Yeah, love. Sounds perfect." Good. Maybe he'd find a way to talk to Greg while they were out. 166

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Maybe.

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Chapter Eight Anton had been growly for two days, so Greg had taken himself downtown for lunch, then to the bar with a couple of friends, just having a couple and shooting the breeze. They talked about who was hiring sous chefs, whether there was money in catering. He'd ended his day in the Vietnamese quarter, picking up fish sauce and hoisin and some lemon grass. A little pork, some scallions and a few spring rolls and they'd have bun thit nuong. There were vermicelli noodles in the pantry. It would make a nice change to taste testing the wild game menu for the Halloween party. Greg was whistling as he came in through the kitchen, dropped his bags off on the counter. "Who wants Vietnamese for supper?" He heard voices coming from the hall where the staff quarters were, Anton, sounding angry. Moving closer, it was the end of Jackson's reply that carried. "-if you won't tell him, I will!” Oh, dude. They found out who'd trashed his room. He moved closer, not bothering to stay quiet. He deserved to 168

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know. "I said I would," snarled Anton. "When?" Man, Jackson had that imperious tone down. "When I'm ready!" Jackson snorted. "You do have a clock counting down." Anton whirled suddenly. "Greg!" A glare was aimed at Jackson. "Hey. I brought lemon grass. You figure out who trashed my room?" "What?" Anton's attention shifted back to him. "Your room. No. There has been no news on that front. And it isn't your room anymore -- you share with me now." "Well, then, what did you mean? What do you have to tell me?" "All in good time. Where have you been all day?" Anton shot another glare at Jackson, put an arm around Greg's shoulders and turned him back toward the kitchen. "Shopping, lunching. I met a couple of friends for a beer and a chat." "I missed you." Anton's stomach growled as they entered the kitchen. "Did you have lunch? I brought stuff for vermicelli bowls." 169

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That was a little light, though. He'd probably need to cook Anton a burger. "Do these bowls have meat in them?" Anton answered with predictability. "Chicken and shrimp, but if you're hungry now, I'll make you a burger." His lover's stomach growled again. "Yes, please. A big one." "Cool." He nodded, leaned up and kissed Anton's cheek. "I couldn't resist the smells down in Little Saigon. I had to play." There were fresh patties in the fridge and he grabbed two. "You could play all the time if you didn't get another job." Anton stayed close, touching him now and then. "I have to have money to play, honey. I don't ever want you think I'm here because of your money." "I know you're not here for the money." Anton grinned and grabbed his ass. "It isn't my wallet you suck." Oh, bitch. He laughed, swatting Anton playfully before digging for some nice slices of brioche. "Oh, I love it when you play rough." Anton's voice all but purred at him, the long body pressing up against his back. "Mmm. If you distract me, you won't get your burger." 170

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Rough. Oh, Anton could say that better than anyone. "I need the burger, Greg. I need it so I can distract you after." "You want anything on it?" "No. But I want you to feed me." Anton's voice rumbled in his ear. "I do feed you. All the time." "Yes. I am a very lucky man." Anton grabbed his hand and nibbled on the tips of his fingers, teeth sharp, scraping. "I. Damn. Anton. Love..." Man, he could just bend and spread 'em, just give himself over to that growl. "Yes, Greg?" He could hear the smile in his lover's voice, Anton's fingers sliding down to grab his hips, the hard cock pushing against his ass. "I'm cooking. Working. No seducing." "But you're seducing me." "I am not." He turned the burger, toasted the bun. Man, that smelled good. "You are. You're making me meat. When is that not a seduction?" Greg chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You want some slaw or a salad with it?" 171

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"You're going to feed me that kind of thing later when you make your wormy bowls, right?" "I am. Lots of crispy veggies." Oh, that sounded delicious. Basil and cilantro... He plated the burger, handed it over. Anton looked at the plate in his hand and then back up. "You aren't going to feed it to me yourself?" He stopped, stared a little as he fought his grin. "You spoiled brat." Anton straightened. "I am n... well, maybe just a little." Anton pushed the plate toward him, smiled. "Feed me. I'm hungry." "Okay, but you have to feed me supper." He was all about equal opportunity. He looked at the burger, wrinkled his nose. "How do you want me to do this?" "Fingers, mouth. I'm easy." "I meant cut it up or tear it." "Tear it," growled Anton. "Rumbly." He tore off one corner and waited for Anton to sit so he could settle on the man's lap. Anton sat slowly, licking his lips, almost drooling. He crawled up, feeding Anton one bite, then another. "Better?" 172

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Anton's hands settled on his ass, tugging him closer. "Some." "Another bite?" There was something incredibly hot about watching Anton eat. "Oh, yes. Of the meat, even." Anton grinned wildly. He stuck his tongue out, feeding his hungry lover. "You going to use that?" Anton asked him, looking at his tongue as Anton's own slid against his fingertips. "Maybe." He stole a bite of Anton's burger, leaning a little harder. Anton growled softly, biting a little harder on his fingertips. "Mine," Anton whispered. "Mmm. Yeah, love. I guess I am." It was getting easier to admit. The way it made Anton beam at him didn't hurt any. "Give me that last bite and we can go say hello properly." He plopped the last bite into Anton's mouth, laughing at the way the man's eyes crossed, the sound of the low moan. Anton swallowed and then slid a hand up to the back of his neck, tugging him close. "You taste even better than the burger." He hummed a little, leaning into Anton's strength, focusing on licking and nibbling on the man's lips. He loved how Anton smelled -- rich and strong, but not offensive, not 173

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wrong. Anton's hand slid over him, tongue tangling with his, hips pushing up against him, humping slowly, easily. He didn't let Anton hurry them this time. Greg just let himself be boneless and lazy, holding Anton's face in his hands, focusing on the flavor of them. Sweet, low growls filled his mouth, and those hands touched him everywhere. Anton's hair was thick, softer than silk and heavy, catching on the hundreds of scars on his fingers. "Mmm..." Anton bit at his lips, hips pushing more insistently up against him. Greg chuckled, pulling away from him a bit, making Anton slow down. Anton pouted, followed him to nip again. Greg opened a little, letting Anton have more. More growls filled his mouth as Anton took it, mouth sweeping in. Anton bent him over one arm, stretching him out, rubbing their bellies together. "Need you," muttered Anton. "Need. Need." "'m right here, love. Right here." Anton's fingers pulled at the button on his jeans, tugged the zipper down. "Anton... what if someone comes in?" How did that work? When you had staff? "They know better, now." Rosa'd interrupted them that once, but Jackson never had. Nor had Jason. But maybe they were just more... discreet. Jackson was always calm, 174

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but Jason had almost sneered the last time they’d passed in the hall. The look in his eyes hadn’t been pleasant... Anton's hand fished out his cock and started jacking it and his thoughts scattered, focused on his prick. "Fuck. Love your fucking hands..." He did -- in the most perverse and wild fucking ways. He got a growl as an answer, Anton's hand tightening, the man's mouth finding a sensitive spot on his neck and working it mercilessly. "Yeah. Yeah, that's..." Just what he fucking needed. Another growl vibrated against his skin, Anton's teeth scraping. That hand kept moving so good. "Gonna make me shoot..." His balls were already tight. "Yes. More protein for me." Anton's eyes glittered for him, almost glowed. "You... your eyes..." He needed to remember ask... Ask... "Oh..." "Come for me, Greg. I need to taste you." "Anton." He shuddered, humping, fucking Anton's hand furiously. "Yeah. Yeah, now. Greg." Anton bit into his shoulder, through his t-shirt. "Now." Fuck. He shot hard, ass sliding and he almost lost his seat. 175

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Anton had him, though, the arm around his back tugging him up tight against Anton's chest. The other hand kept tugging, Anton's movements slowly, the way slick with his come. Greg blinked slowly, humming, rocking with the pleasure. "Stunning," muttered Anton, hand coming up, pink tongue licking the come off the long fingers. "Mmm." He hid his face in Anton's shoulder, moaning low. So fucking hot. "My turn now," growled Anton. "Yeah. Yeah, love. How do you want it?" "I want to take you over the island. Have my chef in the kitchen." He got a wild grin. "Perv." Greg smiled back, took a lazy kiss. "If my legs can hold me, you're on." "If they can't I'll do you on the floor." "I am not fucking on the kitchen floor." It might be clean enough, but damn. It was the principle of the thing. "Why not?" "Because. We eat here." Anton's eyebrows drew together. "So the counter's okay, but the floor's not?" 176

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"Yep." He didn't say it was logical. Anton shrugged and grabbed his ass, pulling him up over one shoulder. "Anton!" He laughed, feet kicking a little. Anton mock growled. "No trying to escape!" "Like I want to get away." He got himself a double handful of ass. The growls turned into laughter, Anton's muscles moving in his hands as he headed toward his room. "Mmm. You've got me." He laughed with his lover, letting himself be carried. Anton flung him down on the bed and started stripping, cock springing from his pants as they were undone, hard and dark and wet-tipped. "Mmm. Look at you." He finished dragging off his own clothes, just watching that strong, broad body appear. "I'd rather look at you." Anton climbed onto the bed. "Actually, I'd rather do you." "I'm right here." He spread, hips canting, offer clear. "Oh, yes, you are." Anton scented him, starting with his feet and working up, the long nose sliding over his body. "Oh." Oh. Sexy. Hot. Damn. By the time his balls had been nosed, his cock sniffed, and 177

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the rest of him nuzzled, Anton's prick was nudging at his hole. His cock had recovered, fully, the strangest, low sounds escaping his throat. "Mate." The word whispered against his lips, Anton's cock spreading him, stretching him. "Yes." He nodded, gasped. His stomach went tight, nerves singing. Anton sank in all the way, holding the position and staring into his eyes for the longest time. Their mouths were close enough they were stealing each other's breath. Thoughts raced through his head -- odd thoughts that seemed like memories somehow. Running. Woods. Moonlight. Then Anton began to move, pushing into him over and over again, mouth crushing his. It was wild and fast and so good. He wrapped his arms around Anton, dragged him close, tongue fucking the man's lips. Growls and groans came from Anton, made his tongue feel funny. His body arched and rolled; he fucked himself on that amazing cock. Anton's noises got louder, cock driving harder into him. This sound escaped him -- more a howl than a moan, unlike anything that he'd ever done before. Anton threw back his head and matched it, howling as the cock inside him jerked, filled him with Anton's spunk. Greg just moaned, burying his face in Anton's throat. "Mate. Mate. Mine." Anton's cheek rubbed against his head. "Mmmhmm. Right here, man." He floated a little, held 178

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close, damn near dozing. "Yes." Anton's hand patted his side, fingers warm and stroking. "Here with me." "Mmmhmm." Greg stretched, rubbing a little. "What was Jackson going on about, man? What's up?" He figured whatever it was, this was a good place to ask. Anton stiffened a moment, and then sighed, cock sliding out of him. Shifting, Anton settled on his back, pulling Greg in close. "I... I have a secret." "Are you going to tell me you're married?" "What? No!" Anton shook his head vehemently. "I am not married." "Oh. Are you a serial killer? Do you have AIDS?" He'd go through the biggies first. "What? Really, Greg, if I was a serial killer, I wouldn't tell you. Or Jackson for that matter. And I told you when first began and you were all upset about not using a condom that I was not sick and that I would not make you sick." "Well, then? What?" "I'm not sure how to tell you. It might be a bit of a... shock." "Look, you've said no on the big ones. Just tell me." 179

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"That's because you don't know about this big one." Anton closed his eyes and took a breath. "I am not what I appear to be. Or rather, not just what I appear to be." "So..." What did that mean, exactly? Anton turned and met his eyes. "I'm a werewolf." "Don't be an ass." He rolled his eyes, sighing. "If you don't want to tell me, don't." Anton sat up and glared hard at him. "I am telling you!" "Anton. Man. Werewolves aren't real." Anton growled at him. Loudly. "I have been worried almost from the start that telling you would drive you away and it turns out you don't even believe me." Anton tilted his head. "Would you have believed Jackson, if he'd told you?" "What?" He blinked, shook his head. "Anton. Werewolves. Aren't. Real." Anton sat, very straight, and raised an eyebrow. "They are indeed. Once a month I am forced into the form of a wolf. I can often fight it the nights before and after the full moon, but on the night of the full moon, I change. Jackson locks me in a room I had specially built for the purpose and in the morning he lets me out again. I can change at other times, but it is something I usually avoid because I am a civilized man and will not let this rule me anymore than it already does." 180

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He stared at Anton, just a little stunned. Okay, either his lover was crazy or fucking with him. He didn't know which was worse. "Come on, Greg. Didn't you suspect something? Anything? You had to know there was something different about me." "Well, you're different. I'll give you that." Okay. Okay, he needed to get up. Do something. Walk. Think. Jesus. "I had hoped to avoid changing to prove it to you, but if I must I will." "I. I need to. This is." Okay. Okay. Damn. "Promise me you won't run while I'm the wolf. You are my mate and I won't hurt you." "Anton." Please. Please, just stop this mess. "Promise me!" 181

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"Fuck. Promise what? Anton. People don't turn into wolves." Okay, this was getting weird. "I need you to promise you'll stay until I change back. Please." "I'll stay. Then we're calling a fucking shrink to help you, okay?" For real. "You'll see. And thank you. Remember, I won't hurt you." Anton stood and held his eyes. And then just... changed.

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Chapter Nine Anton avoided changing when he didn't have to as much as possible. It was uncivilized. It could be painful. And this time he was worried that Greg would see him do it, finally believe and run screaming from the room. And leave. Ironic that he'd been so worried that his telling Greg would ruin everything and instead Greg simply hadn't believed him. Jackson was quite right, though, he'd needed to tell Greg before the full moon happened. So he changed for Greg, remembering his tail and his muzzle. Remembering the ears and the four big, solid paws. Remembering the teeth and the fur and the eyes. And then he wasn't remembering anymore, he simply was. His mate. With a happy bark, he leapt onto the bed to his mate. 183

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The scent of fear -- pure, desperate fear -- was pouring from his mate, enough to make him bristle, make him whine. His instincts kicked in automatically, and he searched for the enemy, for the reason why his mate was so scared. He could hear the patter of words, see the pale, pale face. Someone had threatened his mate. His home. He circled the room. This place was safe, who had dared come here. He searched for scents that were wrong, but it was safe here, safe. Only good smells. He went back to his mate, rubbing his muzzle against his mate's. His mate just stared, eyes huge, the whites showing. Putting his head back, he howled, worried. Something was wrong. Something was wrong with his mate. He barked, trying to get through to his mate, to make contact. His instincts were strong, love, protect, keep his mate safe. Through all the other instincts that raged through him, he caught a glimmer of something. His other self. He must change back. Human. He was a man. A civilized human being. He held onto that thought, gasping as his body changed, leaving him shaken, curled up on the bed with his head in Greg's lap. He didn't even know if Greg was breathing, the man was so quiet, so still. Shaking off the change, he knelt up next to Greg, hands cupping his mate's face. "Greg? It's me. Anton. Look at me." 184

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"I." Greg stared at him, shaking, skin almost gray. He leaned in and took Greg's mouth, tongue pushing in, insisting his lover respond. Greg started shaking, whimpering softly into his lips. Was he so horrible in that form that it was traumatic for his mate? Of course he was -- there was a reason he never changed except when the moon demanded it. Whimpering softly he kissed Greg again, and again. "I'm sorry, Mate. I'm sorry." "I. I. Anton. Anton, how... How..." Greg clung to him, shuddering. "How did you do that?" He pressed kisses over Greg's face, rubbing their cheeks together, trying to get rid of the scent of Greg's fear, which still clung to his mate. "I told you. I'm a werewolf. But I don't have to change. Not ever. Just on the full moon." "But werewolves aren't real. They're for movies and Halloween..." Anton shook his head. "You saw me." He cursed Jackson for making him do this. He could have hidden it another month. "I know." Greg stared at him. "I know. But... How? It's not 185

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physiologically possible." Anton shrugged. "It just is." The how didn't matter. "Oh." Greg stared at him, lips pursed. "I probably need a minute to. Uh. Figure this." He touched and stroked, needing to reconnect. "I can hold you while you figure." "Do you... Okay." Greg turned, eyes closing, hiding away from him. Anton whimpered, tugging Greg into his arms, wrapping tightly around his mate and rocking. He wouldn't lose Greg over this. He could not. "It's okay. It's okay, man. We'll figure this out. Somehow. We will, huh? Hell, maybe I'm losing my mind." "No. No, there's nothing wrong with your mind. You saw. And I'm sorry. I won't change anymore except at the moon." He wouldn't make Greg deal with the animal anymore than he had to. "Even then, you won't have to see me. Jackson has the key." "Stop. Stop it. Why would you... Aren't you still real? You? I mean... Jesus!" Greg pulled away, staring at him. "I can't think, I have so much to ask." "Then ask, Greg. Anything to make you not look at me like that. Please." He reached out, scared as he'd never been before. He'd never had a mate before and now he might lose Greg. 186

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"I. Why does it happen? Did... did something bite you?" Anton shook his head. "When I went through puberty, I changed. My mother said I was cursed before I was born." "That had to suck." "It did. And I ran away into the woods on my first full moon and when I changed back in the morning, I didn't know where I was. I couldn't find my way back home." "Oh, God. You must have been fucking scared." Greg's hands rubbed his arms. He pushed into the touch, reaching out for Greg. "I was." "Yeah. Yeah, I bet." His mate. His. Tugging, he pulled Greg into his lap, burying his face in Greg's neck. "Mine," he whispered, teeth grazing skin. "I... Anton, this is all so big." He pulled back to meet Greg's eyes. "You don't want me anymore?" He didn't believe it -- not with Greg in his arms, his mate's body responding to his. "I didn't say that. I just... this is fucked up." "It doesn't have to be. Just forget about it -- I try to." "I don't..." Greg was pale as a ghost, eyes rolling just a bit. 187

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"Shh. Shh." He pulled Greg close and rocked his mate, fighting the urge to change, to growl and lash out at who was upsetting Greg like this. Because it was him and he couldn't change his nature, God knew he'd tried. Greg's fingers tangled in his hair, petting him, stroking him. Oh. Oh, please. Yes. He moaned softly, nuzzling into the touches, needing that connection, needing to know that despite the strangeness of this, Greg still wanted him, still felt what was between them. "It's okay. I got you. We'll figure this out." Greg's lips brushed the hollow beneath his ear. "Figure it out?" He asked, licking whatever skin was closest, Greg's touch so good, necessary. "Yeah. You and me and this whole thing." "You're mine. My mate." Whatever else Greg needed to figure out, that had to come first. His arms tightened around Greg's body, pulled him in tight. "Am I, now?" Greg leaned, eyes closing. "You are. Can't you feel it?" Greg knew it, even if he didn't know he knew it yet. "I feel you, Anton. Just you." "Yes. Mine. Only mine." He nosed into Greg's neck, teeth sliding lightly over one of the marks on the fine skin. His marks. 188

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"You mean you're not into sharing?" The tease was light, well-meant. He growled anyway, he couldn't have stopped himself. "No sharing. At all. Ever." "You might find some leather daddy that you want to see top me..." "No." He snarled the word, rolling them to put Greg beneath him. "No." "No?" Greg arched, heart pounding furiously. He met Greg's eyes, tried not to keep snarling. "No one touches you but me." "Don't growl at me. I make that choice, love." He did growl, his nostrils flaring. His, Greg was his. "You don't want anyone else to touch you." "No. No, I don't." "Good." He nipped at Greg's collarbone, teeth biting in. He knew Greg could feel it. "Easy!" Greg arched, bucking up underneath him a little. As if Greg didn't like the marking. He dragged his teeth along Greg's skin, right over to his shoulder, mouth open, breathing on Greg's skin. "Th...that. That's better." 189

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He snorted, mouth sliding down to Greg's nipple. "You love it." "Love what?" "This." He bit down on Greg's nipple, tongue worrying the tip. Greg groaned, the heat flaring in the lean body. Oh, yes, he knew what turned his mate on. He sucked harder, pulling up a mark. "Anton..." Greg's cock was filling, swelling against his thigh. "I'm right here." He licked from Greg's nipple up to his neck, breathing in deeply once he was there. "Uh-huh." Greg nodded. "Right here." He ground his hips against Greg's, the heat there making him groan and push harder. Hard. Greg was getting hard, hot, cock growing against him. He could smell his mate's need, that want heady. Growling softly, he kept moving, kept pressing, pushing. Greg's lips brushed his temple, his jaw, his cheek. The touches were addictive, fascinating. He bit at Greg's lower lip, meeting those pretty eyes. "Want you." He always wanted Greg, wanted to be buried inside his mate's heat. "You have me. Right here." So practical, his mate. 190

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He spread the long legs with his knees, cock nudging Greg's, nudging those balls. Greg hooked one leg around his hip, body shifting, letting him in. He pushed into that tight passage, feeling Greg spread open for him, gripping him tight. Moaning, he pushed in deep. "Anton..." He heard a growl, vibrating inside Greg, trying to answer his. "Yes. Mate." Each word was punctuated with a hard, sharp thrust, his body trying to merge into Greg's. Short, hard breaths pushed out of Greg, brushed over his skin. He ran his hand down Greg's side, fingernails scratching. "Anton." Greg's body gripped him like a fist. "Greg. Mine." He bit at Greg's lips, hips jerking repeatedly, moving faster and faster. "Yours. Yours. I... I need. Touch me." He grabbed Greg's prick, jacking it roughly in time with his thrusts. "Yes!" Greg gripped him, body rippling around his cock. His hips moved faster, jerking uncontrollably. "Mine. Mine. Come for me." Heat sprayed, Greg's need unmistakable, rich, right. He 191

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kept thrusting, their skin slapping together noisily, the scent of his mate going straight to his balls. "You... you're beautiful, Anton." Even after Greg had seen, his mate loved him. Growling softly, he rubbed their cheeks together. "All of me?" he asked. "Yes. The... the other part of you is fucking scary and I need details, but... yes. You are beautiful." "I will tell you anything you want to know, Greg." No matter how ashamed he might be of it. For Greg, for his mate who thought he was beautiful, he could share anything. "Cool. Later. Right now I just want to hold on. It's been a day." "I'll hold you forever." He would. As long as his mate needed. *** A wolf. A wolf. Jesus fucking Christ. Greg stared at Anton, slowly combing his fingers through 192

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the long hair. How the fuck did that happen? Why wasn't he running? Why was he still here, stroking this man? Of course, he knew the answer to that, didn't he? He saw the sorrow in Anton's eyes, the shame. He couldn't walk away from that. A low rumbling noise rose up from Anton, enjoyment obvious. "Mmm. It's okay. Just me." He kept touching, kept stroking, slow and easy. Anton's cheek rubbed against his belly, nuzzling against him. He couldn't stop his smile, so he let it out, let himself relax a little more. Anton turned and nibbled the skin of his belly, hand tickling down along his leg. "You're supposed to be sleeping." He grinned, belly muscles jerking. A loud, obnoxious snoring started up. "Butthead." Fuck, he did love the strange bastard. Anton laughed, breath chuffing against his skin. "Are you laughing at me?" He scooted down, lying against Anton's side and rubbing a little. Those dark eyes twinkled, the red lips twitching. "Not at you." "No?" He leaned forward, licking. "I know we have a lot to 193

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talk about, but... I guess it's human nature to just go with things sometimes, huh?" Anton rubbed their noses together and tilted his head, giving Greg more room ."You're my mate. I'm yours. As long as I'm with you everything else will sort itself out, Greg." "What does that mean?" He hummed, eyes closing a little. "That I love you and only you." "Well, then. I can live with that." "And I don't share." The words were growled more than spoken. "No? Are you sure?" Anton growled outright this time, arms and legs going around him, pulling him in close. He let Anton hold him, didn't resist. The growling relaxed into something closer to a purr. "I don't like the idea of you working for someone else, away from here." "I can't work for you, Anton." He knew Anton didn't understand, but it was the truth. "That doesn't mean you have to go work for someone else." Look at that pout. "What am I supposed to do then?" He couldn't just hang 194

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out. He liked being busy. "You like cooking -- I like eating." Anton shrugged. "I don't know, Greg, but it's hard when you go away." Anton's arms tightened around him again. "We'll figure it out. We'll find a solution." Maybe doggy downers so Anton wouldn't get worried. Oh, dude. That was mean. Funny, but mean. Anton nodded, moving in to bring their mouths together. The kiss was hard and possessive. All thoughts of funny were driven right out of his head. Just, boom. Mine. Anton didn't say it, but it was there, in the kiss, in the way those strong hands held him against the long body. His body answered immediately, even if his mind didn't. Anton's. Yours. Anton was so strong, pushing down against him, pressing him into the mattress. He pushed back, wanting to see what Anton did, how far they would go. Growling, Anton nipped at his jaw and pressed harder against him. Fuck, that was hot. He bit back, growling in his throat. Anton's eyes went wide, growing darker, and the man's hips began to hump hard against his. Oh. Oh, fuck. Hot. He bit again. Anton growled loudly, hips moving faster, teeth sinking into his throat. 195

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"Yours. Yours." He could say it, now. Like this. Anton's hips snapped hard and his head went back, a long howl sounding as heat sprayed over Greg's skin. His own orgasm was so close, just hovering at the edge. Making a sound that was more like a purr than a growl, Anton bent again, and licked him from the base of his neck up to his ear. "Anton." His balls drew up, spunk spraying from him. Anton reached between them, hand sliding through the mess on his belly before bringing it up to coat his lips with their come. Groaning, Anton started licking his lips, tongue and teeth hot and sharp. All he could do was open up, let Anton in and in and in. Their kiss ended slowly, Anton grinning at him. "Mine," Anton murmured. He grinned back, eyebrows wiggling. "Mine." Anton's mouth opened, and then closed. "I guess I am." "Okay, then." Well, that was satisfying. Anton chuckled, nose sliding over his cheek. "Smell good." "I smell like sex." He approved. "No. You smell like sex with me." "Yes. I smell like sex with you." 196

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"Mine." Anton looked smug. Happy, and smug. "Don't make me beat you." Anton snorted. "You're not going to beat me." "You don't think?" He could, with a rock. "I know." There was that growl again, the possessiveness in it clear. "I could beat you, you know..." Of course, he'd been on the business end of that heavy hand, had gotten off on it. Anton nodded, grinned. "Sure. If you tied my hands behind my back." He was given a wink, one of Anton's hands sliding along his side. He reached down, pinched the hell out of Anton's ass. Gasping, Anton let fly, smacking his thigh. His gasp rang out, echoing. Fuck. Hot. "You like that." Anton's eyes held his as that hand came down again. "I don't know what you're talking about." Hell, yes. He liked it. Anton just laughed, the sound fucking sexy. Almost as sexy as the sound of Anton's hand coming down against his skin again. "Fuck." His hips jerked and he pulled away, making Anton 197

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fight for it. That brought that hot growl back out, Anton grabbing his hip and tugging him around a bit so the next hit came right on his ass cheek. Greg jerked, hips bucking up, thighs going tight as rocks. "I can smell you," growled Anton, hand coming down again. "Does it smell good? Hot?" Oh, fuck him raw, he was hard. "Yes. Yes." Each agreement came with another smack. He let his legs spread a little, begging for more. "This what you want?" that was another smack, the tip of Anton's fingers almost catching his balls. He swallowed his moan, refusing to answer. Needing it, so bad. "This is what you want." It wasn't a question this time and Anton gave him exactly what he wanted, what he needed. "Fuck you." He leaned over, kissing Anton's side in thanks. Anton laughed, free hand sliding over his ass between smacks, pressing against his warming flesh. Every touch just sent him higher and higher, just made him fucking fly. "You going to come for me again?" Anton asked. "Gonna let me smell you? Taste you?" 198

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"Anton." He stretched out, begging for more. "Yeah, yeah, you are." The heat between his ass and Anton's hand was incredible. "Damn. Damn, I need." His cock was hard and leaking, hips jerking with every blow. "You're so beautiful, Greg." Anton's voice slid over his skin like a touch, almost as solid as the blows that landed on his ass. "More." He needed to come, God damn it. "Perv." Anton nipped at his earlobe, hand moving to slap at the top of his thighs right where they met his asscheeks. "Yeah. Yeah. You know it." His earlobe was sucked in, and then Anton slid down the bed, teeth sinking into the abused flesh of his ass. "Fuck!" His balls drew up tight, aching, cock leaking, throbbing. So fucking close. "You'll wear my mark here," growled Anton, biting his ass again. "Toothy bastard." Yeah. Hell, yeah. He could do that. "Just making sure you know who you belong to." Another smack hit his upper thigh and Anton's tongue slid along his crack, running over his hole. 199

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"I. I know. I fucking know." He dragged his legs underneath him, bucking up toward the touch. Anton's tongue pushed into him, just the tip, and then disappeared again. "Say it." "Make me." Anton smacked him again, fingertips just catching his balls. "Anton..." Fuck. Fuck, yes. "Say it." "Mine." Oh, fuck, Anton had an awesome laugh. And an even better growl. "Say you're mine." "You're mine." See him. See him hold it together. Anton's hand came down hard on his ass. "Mine!" "Fuck!" His head slammed back, ass bucking up. Anton growled and bit him again, then slapped, then bit. "Say you're mine. Say you're mine. Mine." "Yours. I'm fucking yours, love. Please. Fuck me." "Yes!" Anton cried out and slammed into him, cock hard and hot and huge. "Yours." He bit out the word, over and over, every time 200

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Anton pushed into him. Anton's nails scraped down along his back, sharp, bright pain that quickly dulled. His orgasm hit him like a tsunami, seed pouring from him. Anton kept pushing into him, hips hitting his burning ass harder and faster, his name on Anton's lips as heat filled him. Fuck. Tired. He slumped, smiling at Anton, all melted. "Mmm... mine." Anton's whispered words wrapped around him like a blanket. "Mmmhmm. Yours." He nodded, hummed softly. He could feel Anton's smile against his skin. "And you're mine." Anton bit his shoulder. Greg chuckled, snuggled in. "That's right. Mine." A low growl was his answer, Anton mouthing "mine" against his shoulder, right where he'd been bitten. Greg reached down, fingers twining with Anton's, holding on. Yes, he supposed so.

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Chapter Ten Anton paced. He paced up and down the long, hidden hallway that connected his rooms to the kitchen. Even hidden away here he could feel the moon's pull. It was close to full, so close he could feel the change crawling its way up his spine. He could fight it, though. He could fight it every night but one. Still. It made his instincts sharper, the animal harder to ignore and the fact that his mate was not here was far worse than the need to change. He'd told Greg that, explained it, and yet the man was still out there looking for a job somewhere else. Greg didn't understand, he couldn't. There was no one who could understand. He needed Greg to be here. His mate. His. One more night before he changed and clawed out the walls of his prison. 202

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He checked his watch again, the minute hand seemed to have barely crawled around the face once or twice since the last time he'd looked. With a snarl, he ripped the thing from his wrist and flung it down the hall. "Ow!" Greg stared at him, blinking a little. "You okay?" "Greg!" He ran down the hall, wrapping his arms around Greg and holding on. It took everything he had not to snap and growl. "Anton? Love? What's wrong?" Greg's hands explored him, searched him. "Gone. You were gone." He pushed into Greg's touches, nosing along Greg's skin and breathing him in. "I was job hunting. I was fine. Am fine." "I know, Greg. I do." He took a hard kiss, hands clutching Greg to him. "You don't understand what it's like, this close to the full moon." "No, I don't." Something was off, wrong, Anton could smell it. He pulled away long enough to frown at Greg. "What's wrong?" "Hmm? I didn't say anything was wrong." Anton hugged Greg to him, hands wandering over his mate's limbs. "You don't have to say it for me to know." 203

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"I'm okay. It's nothing. Are you hungry?" He growled, hands sliding to Greg's arms and holding on, holding tight. "It! There's an 'it'. What is it?" "Nothing. Just an asshole on the street. Following me and being weird." "Being weird? Did he touch you? How long did he follow you?" He was going to hurt someone. "He tried to bite me, man. It was weird." His fingers tightened on Greg, his howl tearing from his chest. "Mine. You're mine." "Don't. Don't, man. Please. It's been a long fucking day." He nodded. It had been. It had been forever since his mate had left. Groaning, he took Greg's mouth, his worry giving the kiss teeth. Greg kissed him back, and then pulled away a bit. "I'm hungry, Anton." Anton nodded and didn't even try to let go. "Did he touch you?" "Hmm? He grabbed my arm; didn't hurt really. More pissed me off." Greg nudged him toward the kitchen. He let himself be led, hands sliding on Greg's arms -- he'd be able to see better in the light of the kitchen. "Which 204

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arm?" "My left. You want a sandwich?" Greg headed toward the fridge. "I want you. And steak." He grabbed Greg, examining Greg's left arm, sniffing it. "Don't smell me, Anton. That's weird. And I don't have a thick steak thawed." "Hamburger?" He kept sniffing, trying to catch a hint of Greg's attacker. "I'll look. And stop smelling me." Greg started rummaging, muttering under his breath "What did this man look like? What did he say?" He could smell the city and outdoors on Greg, scents of people other than his mate, but nothing he could pinpoint. "He was a guy. Hairy. Ugly. Pissed off." A little tray of ground beef was pulled from the refrigerator, along with a plate of tomatoes and onions. Hairy. Ugly. Anton frowned. He knew more than one person that could describe. "Had you ever seen him before?" "I don't think so, no. I wasn't paying attention, really." "Someone followed you, touched you and you weren't paying attention?" Anton growled. He really wanted Greg to stay here with him and not be out wandering the streets. 205

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"You should stay here." "I didn't know to pay attention until after he tried to bite me, man." The beef landed on the counter, the spices coming out. He licked his lips, the food -- the meat -- beginning to distract him from his inquiry. He checked Greg's arm again. "You're sure he didn't manage to bite you." "Pretty sure, yeah." Garlic. Pepper. Salt. He growled a little. "Maybe you should stay home." He would repeat it until Greg agreed. "I need a job, Anton. You know that. Besides, I have friends, things I like to do. Hell, I used to party." He couldn't have stopped the low growling if he'd tried. "No partying without me." "No? We could party. Together, I mean." "We could..." As long as it wasn't too near the full moon. There was no way he could party today, for instance; he'd take a bite out of anyone who came too near. "We'll have to plan it. Later. Maybe after Halloween, huh?" "We could party at Halloween. I still want you to attend with me." They hadn't even gone to get costumes or anything; the vandalism of Greg's room had interrupted their plans. 206

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"I'd like that." That desire on Greg's face made him rumble, made him hard. "How hungry are you?" he asked, leaning into Greg's neck and breathing in, the scenting having nothing to do with the man who'd tried to bite Greg. Only Greg could distract him from red meat. "Hungry." Greg moaned for him, head tilting. "Hungry for me?" He scraped his teeth along Greg's neck, searching for just the right spot to bite. "I... Stop it, now. I can't think." "You don't need to think." There. Right there was the spot he wanted. Anton bit. Greg's cry rang out, hips slamming back against him, grinding against his cock. Moaning, he grabbed hold of Greg's hips and held them where they were. "You've been gone so long." All day long. "Just a few hours." Greg struggled against him, just enough to make him fight for it. "All day. Lots of hours. Too many hours." He put one hand over Greg's prick, rubbing as Greg back. "Mmm. More. More, lover." Fuck, he loved that, loved the way Greg gave it up for him. 207

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He kept rubbing, hand against Greg's prick, his cock against that tight ass, his teeth working at Greg's neck. "I'm cooking..." Greg spread a little, panting for him. "You're hot, I'll give you that." He kept rubbing, humping against Greg's ass. "That was terrible." Greg's laughter was husky, a little breathless. Anton grinned, mouthing Greg's skin. "This isn't terrible, though." "No. No, this isn't fucking terrible." "Good." He growled, turning Greg and pushing him up against the fridge door as he took his mate's mouth. Greg's tongue pushed into his mouth, kissing him back just as fiercely, hands tangling and tugging at his hair. He humped against that lean body, their cocks pushing together through too many layers of clothing, Greg's ass noisily hitting the fridge over and over. "You... you're going to bruise my ass." Oh, now. That would be a shame. "Are you saying I should stop?" "Uh... I. No?" "No, I didn't think so." He slid his hands down to grab Greg's asscheeks, squeezing as he kept humping 208

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Greg leaned in, bit his neck enough to sting. He jerked -fuck he loved that, loved it when Greg got all toothy and possessive just like him. He growled a little, one hand pushing between them to work at their pants. The next bite came to his shoulder, then the curve of his arm. He finally got into Greg's pants, and then his own, and brought their cocks together, stroking urgently. "Anton." That was a please and a thank you, all in the same word. Hand still jacking them, he leaned back in to bite at Greg's neck, tongue picking up the flavor of Greg from his skin. "Mmm." Greg humped his hand, cock leaking, dripping into his palm. The smell was just what he needed after a day of pacing and worrying, a day of fighting the animal inside him and letting Greg go and do his thing. "Love, yeah?" Greg gasped, almost crawling up his body. He nodded. "Yeah. Love. Mine." It was the same thing. "Yes. More." He pressed his thumb into Greg's slit, biting at that lower lip. Greg's eyes went wide, hips bucking in short, rough bursts. "Yeah, let me have it. Let me smell you. Taste you." He 209

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growled, squeezing tight. Greg's head slammed back into the fridge, seed pouring hot and right - over his hand. The smell of it sent him over the edge and his come spilled out, mixing with Greg's. Greg slumped against him, blinking slow. "Damn." "Mmm..." He brought his hand up, licking at the taste of the two of them mixed together. "Better?" Greg took a deep breath, nuzzling in. "Yeah." He rested against Greg, dropping kissing on Greg's nose and lips, and jaw. "Mmm. Burgers now, huh? Something warm and juicy?" "Oh, yeah. Talk dirty to me some more." Grinning, he made his way over to the stools by the island, sitting -- he did love watching Greg cook. Greg zipped up and cleaned up, then started working. "I might have found a place that needs a chef. It's a little bistro -- tiny, really -- but the money's not bad." A part of him was screaming inside him, loud and wild, demanding he hold onto his mate and not let go. He managed a tight smile. "Yeah?" "Maybe. I haven't decided. I sort of like the personal chef/party thing." Three hamburger patties were made -one, two, three. 210

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"I like the personal chef thing, too." He licked his lips, the burgers and the man enticing him. Then he tilted his head and growled a little. "You're making three burgers." "Yeah -- two for you and one for me. You think I should make one for Jackson, too?" "Two for me. That's okay. You don't need to cook for Jackson." "I know, but he enjoys it." The grill was heated, Greg working with a spare economy that he loved to watch. "He's not here, his loss." The smells were amazing, the meat stronger, but Greg's scent was in his nose, in his heart and always would be. It took no time at all before he had two burgers in front of him, on toasted buns with a bit of mayonnaise and some tomato and onion. "Mmm. You take good care of me." He licked his lips; he could almost taste it. "I'm good at it." Greg leaned over the counter, stole a quick kiss before sitting back to eat. "You are. You should do it full time." "I can't work for you and be your lover, Anton, but I'll take care of you, yeah?" "And I can take care of you -- you really don't need to work, Greg. I have lots of money. I do." 211

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Greg shrugged. "That's sort of creepy, though, you know? Living off you when I could work." "It would not be creepy!" He wanted to look after Greg. His very own mate. "People would think I was taking advantage of you. Damn, this is good." "Who cares what other people think? We'd know the truth." "I'd care. I care what people think about you." He reached across the island and stroked Greg's cheek. "I hate the idea of you being gone every day, Greg. Hate it." The animal rose up, and the last words came out on a growl. "I'd have two nights off a week." Greg's eyes closed, cheek pushing into his touch. "Two? Two nights a week?" He growled and shook his head. He couldn't do that. His fingers pushed into Greg's hair. "You don't understand what this is like for me, Greg." "No, I don't. This is normal stuff, An... Mmm. That feels good. Quit distracting me, love." "I'm not a normal man. I have... instincts that drive me. I try to be civilized, but it isn't always easy." Tomorrow night it would be impossible. The beast would have control. "How can I help you, love?" Greg came around, stepped 212

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between his legs. His arms slid automatically around Greg. "I'm trying very hard not to drag you into my lair and lock you in there, never letting you go." "Mmm. No locking me up, man. Tying? Handcuffing? A nice night of leather and chains? I'm there." "Don't tease me this close to the full moon, mate." "I'm not teasing. I could tell you stories about things I've done..." Tease. Evil tease. "I don't want to hear about you with other men. I could tie you up, though. After the full moon." "Do you have to stay in that room, love? I hate thinking of you trapped in there." "I don't want to hurt anyone." Greg hadn't seen the inside of that room, the claw marks on the walls and door... "Would you hurt me?" "Never. I couldn't." He held Greg close. "Never." "Well, then... I... I would stay in with you. Jackson would let me out if things got out of hand, right?" "What? No!" He shook his head, pushing Greg away. "No, I don't want you in there with me." He didn't want Greg to see him like that. Out of control. 213

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"Oh. Okay. Okay, man. That's cool." Greg headed back around the island, gathering up dishes and debris. "It is? You're going to let it drop, just like that?" "You said you didn't want me there. What am I supposed to do?" He shrugged. "I just expected you to persist." He would have. He was going to -- he didn't want Greg to go work somewhere else and he was going to keep at it until they found a solution that kept Greg with him. "If you'd said you were worried about me being in there or you didn't think I could handle it, then yeah. But you said you didn't want me in there. There's no arguing with that." So straight-forward. So logical. And he didn't want Greg in there seeing him like that, so why was he pouting that Greg wasn't fighting harder to be there with him? Greg finished throwing the dishes into the dishwasher, shoulders tense. He went over, fingers sliding over Greg's shoulders. "What?" "I'm okay." Greg put the leftover tomatoes and lettuce in the fridge. He growled. "Don't lie to me!" "Don't growl at me!" Greg spun around, snapping right back. 214

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Fuck, that was sexy, the way Greg always pushed. "You like it when I growl at you." "What if I told you I didn't?" Well, then Greg would be lying. Anton could smell it. "I wouldn't believe you. I know you like it." He grabbed Greg's hips and tugged them together, Greg hard against his thigh. "We just got off..." Greg pushed right in, rocking against him. "I'm only proving that you like it when I growl." Not that he didn't want Greg again, now, again and again. "Prove away." Those bright eyes challenged him, sparkling. His own eyes narrowed and he let the growl build in his throat, the sound easy this close to the moon, the wolf so close to the surface. "Bedroom," he said, managing to make the sound form a word. "No. No, this is the kitchen." He didn't even have to try to growl this time. "I mean we need to do this in the bedroom." He grabbed Greg's arm and headed for the pantry and the hidden hallway. Greg smelled like meat and sex and him and it was enough to make him snarl, to make the beast in him rage. He practically dragged Greg down the hall, nearly at a run by the time he pushed through the door to his rooms. He 215

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needed, he wanted. Greg was his. "Chill out, man. I'm coming. I'm wanting you, too." Greg's hand slid down his back, petting him, easing him. "I know." He pulled at Greg's clothes, his fingers having trouble with finesse, the beast in him wanting skin, now, mate, now. Greg helped him, stripping down and pushing into his arms. "Warm." His only answer was a growl, his own clothes all but shredded from his body. His mouth slammed down onto Greg's, fingers digging into Greg's skin. His mate opened to him, not holding back or shrinking away, but giving him everything he asked for. His growls grew, pleasure in them now as he pushed Greg up against the wall, humping against the warm body. "Thought... thought you wanted the bed?" "Okay." He grabbed Greg's ass and hauled his mate over to the bed, pushing Greg onto the bed and following him down. Greg arched up, pushed into his heat, into his strength. Growling, he spread Greg's legs, nudging at that hot little hole. "You ever noticed that..." Greg moaned, bore down and took the tip of his prick in. "...that we never do it doggie style?" 216

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"Don't make fun of me," he snarled, pushing in deeper. "I'm not. I'm playing with you." Greg swatted his ass, tugging him in deeper. "I like seeing your face." He growled and thrust hard. "I like being able to taste you." Bending he bit at Greg's neck. "Fuck." Greg's body went almost painfully tight, squeezing his cock fiercely. He stilled, sucking on the flesh in his mouth, growling around Greg's skin. Greg milked his cock, the muscles fluttering wildly around him. Fuck. Fuck, so good. Then he started to move, pumping into Greg's body. The cry that rang out, bouncing on the ceiling, was shaped like his name. Anton howled, the sound sharp and bright as his hips snapped. He felt the heat of Greg's spunk, the scent sharp and strong in his nose. His. That scent belonged to his mate, was his mate. With another howl he came, too, filling Greg's bowels with his seed. Greg slumped into the sheets, panting, blinking at him. He licked his lips, a low growl coming from him as he tasted Greg on them. He could feel the beast trying to get out, to snarl and growl and howl at the moon. 217

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"Easy. Easy, you're safe with me." "Always taking care of me -- that's my job, to take care of you." "Mmm. Someone needs to take care of you, too, though." That hand petted and stroked. "Only you." He wouldn't let anyone else. But he liked it when Greg did. He nuzzled and pushed into each touch. "Okay." Greg nodded, hummed just a little. "Sleep, man. You're safe." And, strangely enough, he found that he could. The night before the full moon and Greg soothed him. It was good having a mate. *** Anton was growly. Restless. Greg was considering killing him. He poured himself a cup of coffee and headed to the bedroom, humming a little under his breath. They just needed to deal with this whole weird-assed turning-into-awolf thing. Anton was at the window looking up at the sky, his back stiff, fingers curled into fists. 218

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"Hey, love." He put his coffee down, hands trailing down Anton's back. Anton leaned back into his touch. "I can't wait much longer." "No? Are you sure you don't want to stay in here? I'm not scared of dogs, you said you wouldn't hurt me." Anton could think, Greg could see it. "I'm an animal, Greg. You don't want to see me like that." "You're Anton. This isn't going to go away, huh?" Anton turned, the dark eyes looking into his own. "It scared you, when I became the wolf. Once the moon's up, I won't be able to change back until it goes away again." "Of course it scared me. It'll probably scare me tonight." He shrugged. "Lots of things scare me, but I don't lock them in closets." And besides, he wasn't going to be able to work through this, if he couldn't see it. "I can't hurt anyone in there." Nobody except himself. Greg had seen the claw marks, the dried blood. He hadn’t wanted his mate to see that, but Greg had insisted. "Do you want to? I mean, why the drama?" He'd known anxious dogs -- locking them in a room never helped. "I don't want to, but I might. If someone was threatening my territory." Anton shook his head. "Greg, anyone who isn't mine could be a threat while I'm changed." 219

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"Well, then. I'm safe. Shit, you're all about me being yours, and there's good TV on tonight. We can just relax, snuggle." He dared to grin over. "Play fetch." Anton's eyebrows went up and he growled. "We'll have to close the window. And the door, lock it and not let anyone in. Just you." "Okay. You need some food?" "I don't think there's time. I can feel it." Anton's muscles had gone all tight again. There was a knock at the door, and then Jackson's voice called out. "Sir? It's almost time." "I'm dealing with it Jackson, 'kay?" He opened the door, met Jackson's eyes, trying to look way braver than he felt. "We're going to hang in here, snuggle, watch some movies." "Are you sure?" Jackson asked, a small frown appearing. "Yeah. Yeah, man. He'll be fine. We'll work our shit out." Jackson pressed a key into his hand. "Just in case." "I'll be fine." He winked, swallowing hard. Not scared. Really. Not. 220

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They'd be fine. "I hope so." Jackson gave him a tight smile and turned, hurrying away. "Okay. Well, what do you want me to do, Anton?" "Lock the door. I'll get the window." He locked the door and went to change into something soft and comfortable and take a drink of coffee before it went cold. Anton stopped him in the middle of the room, looking into his eyes. "Are you sure about this? You could still change your mind." "Are we going to be a couple or not? If we are, then we have to deal with this." Something flared in Anton's eyes. "Yes. A couple." Then Anton's eyes began to glow, a low growl sounding in his throat. "Okay. You want to get naked, man? That's a great shirt." One of his favorites, even. Anton nodded jerkily. "Take it off." "Okay. Hold on." He stepped over, fingers working the buttons open, only shaking a little bit. Anton's hands came up and wrapped around his, so warm. "Don't be scared of me." 221

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"I'm trying not to be. You didn't hurt me before. You were still my lover." Anton nodded, leaning in to scent along his neck "My mate. I won't hurt you. I can't." God, he hoped Anton was right. He hoped he was. Hell, at this point he was just looking forward to surviving until daylight. "It's coming." Anton pushed off his pants and stepped away, body almost vibrating, shimmering as the change took him. Greg didn't know what to do, where to look, how to act, so he just made himself act normally, hanging Anton's shirt up, humming low to hide his utter terror. When he turned back, Anton had changed, the wolf quite beautiful. It was large and various grey in color -- almost white to almost black with a blue tone shot throughout his fur. Anton bounded to the window, scrabbling at it and howling. "Where are you going, man? You promised me a night of snuggling and movies." See him. See him act normal. The wolf turned toward him and then bounded over, standing with front paws on his shoulders, and licking his face. His heart was pounding a million miles a minute, but he reached out, gave Anton a hug, fingers scratching the heavy 222

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fur. "Hey. Better?" Anton panted, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, eyes -- Anton's eyes -- staring at him. Oh. Oh, wow. "It really is you, huh? I mean, really." That wet tongue licked across his face again, and then the big wolf head tilted, Anton gnawing at his ear. "Dude, I need that ear." He scratched Anton's ears, chuckling as Anton groaned, pressed closer. Anton's fur was super soft, and the wolf was so warm. "Come on. Let's get settled and watch TV." He kissed the top of Anton's head, feeling sorry for his lover for a minute. Poor guy -- locked away. Anton bounded over to the window, barking and barking, growling, and then howling. "Good lord, you're loud." He wandered over and looked out at the moon, the lights, the city just buzzing. "Come on. Let me close the blinds before someone sees you." Anton howled again, head thrown back, the sound haunting. "What's wrong?" Greg pulled the blinds, and then tugged the curtains closed. The howling stopped as soon as he had the curtains closed, Anton's nose nudging at his hand. "Dork." He looked down at Anton, admiring. "You're fine, Anton. Really. Come on, let's watch a movie." 223

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With the blinds closed, all of Anton's attention had turned to him, the wolf sticking to him like glue. They crawled into the bed and he grabbed the remote, settling in for a night of goofy movies and cold coffee. Cold coffee and heavy, fuzzy tails. Dude. He had gone down the rabbit hole. *** Anton was cozy and warm, wrapped around his mate. He was also starving after a night as the beast. And usually exhausted and aching in strange places. But not today. He raised his head, the night spent with Greg coming back to him. He'd been fine with his mate as soon as the moon had been hidden behind curtains. And now he was hungry, for Greg as well as food. With a growl, he pushed against his mate. "Mmm. Shh. You're okay, lover. You're okay." Greg reached for him, hands stroking him, the man still sound asleep. He was okay. Greg had made the difference, made the night easy and smooth. He nipped at Greg's neck, teeth threatening to break the skin. "Ow!" Greg jerked back, eyes flying open, the look 224

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confused and lost for a second. "Damn, that stings!" Growling, he licked at the spot, humping against Greg's thigh. "No, the appropriate response is, 'sorry, Greg.' Greg pushed him away, swatting his ass. He grumbled, reaching out to grab at Greg and tug him back close. "Want you." "Yeah, well. Try some seduction. Kissing." He pressed his mouth to Greg's, tongue pushing in. It took Greg a second, then his mate relaxed, opening up for him, letting him in. Humming happily, he rolled over Greg and rubbed against him. Greg cuddled in, warm against him. "It was better," he told Greg. "With you there." "Good. You seemed to be okay." "I usually hurt the morning after." He wasn't this morning, though, was he? He just needed. "Well, you locked yourself in a dark, craptastic little room. We snuggled and watched King Kong and School of Rock. Next time, we should bring food." Greg winked, kissed him again. His stomach growled at the mention of food. "Lots of steak." 225

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"Chicken is good, too. Turkey. Tuna." Greg was teasing him. "Beef. Good old fashioned red meat." He punctuated each word with a nip to Greg's lips, Greg's jaw, Greg's neck. "Mmm. Tofu..." Greg arched a little, thighs parting. He pulled away, almost spitting at the word. "No. Not in my kitchen. Not past my lips." He knew Greg was just teasing, but he had to make sure his mate understood the evils of that stuff. "You might like it. I hear excellent cooks can make it look good." "It's smooshed beans, Greg. You're going to make me go soft at this rate." "You mean I'm not sexy enough to overcome soybeans? Dude." He growled, pressing into Greg. "You're my mate, you trump everything." "Mmm. Good. Now, let's get off so we can have bacon and eggs." "Make it steak and eggs and you've got a deal." Not that it mattered; he wanted Greg more than he wanted food. "Maybe sausage." Greg bit his earlobe, tugging a little. 226

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The sting felt amazing. "You're a terrible tease." "No. I'm a wonderful tease." "That, too." He bit at Greg's bottom lip, tugging the flesh into his mouth. "Fuck." Greg's hands slid down his spine, fingers wrapping around his ass and tugging him in close. The heat of Greg's cock pressed against his own and he groaned, biting hard enough to break the skin. "Anton!" Greg's blood was sweet on his tongue. Growling, he sucked on Greg's lip, his hips sliding his prick on Greg's skin. Greg kept him moving, kept them jerking and rubbing and rocking together. He could feel it building and building, and then he tossed his head, the howl coming from deep inside. "Love." Greg whispered the word against his throat, heat spreading over his belly. His own orgasm responded, more heat spraying between them as he howled out his pleasure. Greg kissed his throat, humming low, relaxing back into the sheets. He let Greg hold his weight, using the warm body as a mattress. Nose sliding along Greg's neck, he hummed softly, one hunger sated, another beginning to be noisy. He was loath to move though. Greg pulled the blanket over his back, patting him, 227

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beginning to snore softly. His stomach growled loudly and he growled back at it. Sleeping. His mate was sleeping. Burying his face into Greg's neck, he distracted himself with the wonderful smells of skin and sweat and come and his.

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Chapter Eleven The food was going out of the kitchen, right on cue. Trays of meatballs and cheeses, tiny bites of pate and stuffed cherry tomatoes and olives, wild game pate and hermachi. Crunchy and salty, savory and spicy - he'd outdone himself. There was a good sized wait staff, three bartenders, about a zillion guests. And one chef. Him. How did that happen? Anton walked into the kitchen, looking amazing in a tuxedo, hair pulled back into a tight tail at the bottom of his neck. He was wearing just enough make up that his face looked white, his lips unnaturally red. Ah, yes, that was how that had happened. "Hey, Anton. Everyone happy?" He put the final garnish on a plate and sent it out. "Everyone except me. My date has been too busy to be 229

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with me." Man, Anton raised pouting to an art form. Spoiled brat. "Your date has been working for eighteen hours pulling off a miracle." He was going to hit the man with a rock. "I know. I've been very lonely." Anton's arms wrapped around him, not seeming to care that there was flour and powdered sugar on his checks. "Are you going to be able to come have fun soon?" "Actually, yes. The dessert people are up and then this is their problem." He didn't have an intricate costume -- cat ears and tail and a little collar. Just enough to tease Anton and it would only take a moment to change. "Excellent. I've been missing you." Anton took a kiss, not seeming to care what any of the others in the kitchen might think. "You've been playing host." The little sharp fake vampire teeth were weird as hell, not some fake plastic crap, but almost real. "I've still been missing you." Anton's hand went down and grabbed his ass, squeezed. "Okay. Go change and meet me in the salon?" "I'll be right there after I bathe." He took another quick kiss and headed out, heading for Anton's bedroom. Someone was in the hallway, skulking by the door, when he got there. "Uh, the bathroom's on the other side of the salon, sir." 230

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"Nice costume." The guy stepped out of the shadows, dressed as a wolf, fuzzy ears on a headband, big teeth and a tail coming out of his pants in the back. "Not a costume. I'm the chef." Creepy. "Am I supposed to say 'Gramma, what big eyes you have?'" "How about we skip straight to the teeth?" The guy opened his mouth, showing off a set of sharp teeth that looked pretty darn real. "I don't think so, man." He pointed back down the hall. "Party's that way. These are private quarters." "So let's get private." Mouth open, the man came closer, hand reaching for him. "Oh, dude. No. I'm not available." Okay, a little weird. Someone'd had too much to drink. "Sure you are. You're here, I'm here; no one else is. You look plenty available to me." The guy grabbed his arm. "I just want a taste." "Man! Hands off!" He jerked away and took off, heading for the secret passage and the safety of the kitchen. He rounded the corner, running right into Anton. Strong hands grabbed his arms, Anton growling softly. "What are you doing?" "Anton." He swallowed. "There's a guy. Been drinking. He just." He wanted to bite me. How could he say that? 231

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The hands on his arms tightened, Anton growling, pulling him closer. "Someone came onto you?" "No. He wanted to b..." He stopped, shook his head. "I haven't changed." Anton frowned, looking behind him. "I don't see anyone. And I can only smell you. And food." Anton tugged him close. "Do you want me to come with you?" His lover might have asked, but it didn't seem that he had a choice, Anton dragging him to the pantry and the secret passage. "You've got your guests..." Where the fuck did the guy go? "And when you're changed, we can get back to them. Until then I'm sticking to you like glue." Anton's fingers were holding him hard enough to leave bruises. "Okay." He wasn't going to argue. That whole thing had been weird. Growling all the way, Anton shut and locked the door as soon as they'd made it to his rooms. "I don't share." "I didn't ask you to." It hadn't been sexy. It had been scary as fuck. "Good." Anton tugged him close, giving him a hard kiss before backing off again. "These teeth make you taste funny." 232

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"It's probably all the garlic. I need a shower." He needed a shower and a drink and for the whole weirdness thing to stop. Anton's eyes darkened. "If you take a shower we won't be getting to the party for quite awhile." "I'm not in the mood, Anton. That guy... he was fucking wiggy." "You want to come with me and show me who it was? I'll rip him... I mean I'll escort him out." Everything in him went tight, scared. "No. No, he'll hurt us, you." "No one is going to hurt me, Greg. Nobody is going to hurt you, either." Anton's nostril's flared, his lip curling. "Yeah, I hope so, but this..." He took a deep breath. "This is nonsense. He'd had too much and was frisky. Let me wash up and get my ears and tail on." "Ears and tail?" Anton frowned, obviously distracted by him. "You're not going as a dog!" "Nope. I'm not." He stripped off his shirt and checks, ran some hot water in the sink. "No? Then what?" Anton reached out, hand sliding along his arm, touching a mark left on his neck the night before. "You'll see." He washed his face, his chest, just scrubbing a little. 233

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Those fingers groped around his neck and then slid down his spine. "Just ears and a tail?" "Leather pants, collar. Something to keep your attention." Anton growled softly. "You always have my attention." "Good. I like it." He headed into the bedroom, tugged on his pants and laced the crotch up. "Greg." Anton's voice came out as a strangled squeak. "What? I'm almost ready." Boots? On. Little collar? On. Long black tail? On. Kitty ears? Bingo. "You think I should wear a vest or a t-shirt?" Anton reached for him, growling. "Greg." "What? T-shirt or leather vest?" This was fun. Anton's fingers slid over the collar, a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper coming from the man. "I could just go with the collar..." He flexed a little, knowing his ink was showing. "I want you to wear my mark." Anton slid his fingers over the tattoos, eyes hot. "Yes. Just the collar. But nobody touches you. Nobody even looks too long." "That will be up to you, Anton. I'm just going to enjoy the party with you." 234

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Anton growled and tugged him in close. "The tail is sexy. All you need are whiskers." "I could draw some on. Are you going to chase me?" "Yes." Anton leaned down to bite the corner of his jaw. "I'm going to catch you, too." "Promises, promises." He turned his head, caught Anton's lips in a sharp, hard kiss. "Come get me." Then he was out the door in a flash. He thought he heard Anton's growl, but he didn't let it slow him down and in moments he was in the ballroom, mingling with Anton's guests. There were a ton of people -fancy and simple, exotic and professional. It was damn cool. Anton came into the room shortly after he did, everyone's attention drawn to the man. Greg smiled over, admiring his lover, the man's presence. The strength. The heat in Anton's eyes was palpable, even across the room, his lover's pleasure in him clear. He nodded once, winked, and then turned to continue talking to the little actor who'd been flirting. He could feel Anton coming closer, stalking him, hunting him. He said his goodbyes to the twink, headed deeper into the crowd, just to tease. He could see Anton continuing to come toward him, still hunting him. A moment later, Anton's expression changed, and Greg bumped into someone, a hard hand coming around his arm to steady him. 235

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"We meet again. I like the new look." "I." His spine went stiff, his hair standing up all over. "Thanks. You find the bathroom?" Fuck. "I wasn't looking for it." The man's eyes slid over his bare chest, tongue licking over sharp teeth and narrow lips. Reaching out with his free hand, the man touched his belly and then tweaked his right nipple. "Hey. Hands off!" He swatted the guy's hands, getting pissed. "That's not cool, man." "Come on, you're obviously hot to trot -- just look at you!" Those hands came back, one going for his left nipple, the other trying to grope his cock. "Anton..." Too long nails dug into his chest, breaking the skin and he turned, darting away, pushing through the suddenly-unfriendly seeming crowd. He was still being hunted, he could feel it, but he couldn't tell if was Anton anymore, or the creep. Heading for the one safe place he knew, the kitchen, he pushed past dancing girls and scarecrows, Zorro and Madonna. A hand grabbed his arm. "Caught you!" He was whirled around, and tugged up against Anton's chest. "Anton. I. I have to. Let me go." He had to get out of here. Anton frowned. "What's the matter?" The frown got deeper, 236

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Anton's fingers sliding over the long scratch on his chest. "What's this? Who did this to you?" "That man. The man from the hallway. He's still in here." The guy was still in here and Greg was scared. It was just weird, but he was. Anton growled, pulling him close again, arms hard around him. He was tugged to the doorway, Anton still holding him tight. "Where? Where is he?" "I don't know. He's dressed like a wolf, big teeth and all..." He scanned the crowd, searching. He could feel Anton's growl against his ear Anton held him close. "I don't see any wolf." "I don't either, but he was here." "I don't like this." One of Anton's guests approached them and Anton snarled at her, backing away from her, from the room. "Lover, you've got guests. You've got to play host. I'm going to hide out in the kitchen, huh? Stay out of trouble." Anton shook his head. "No. It's not safe." Anton backed them into front hall and then moved them toward his rooms. "You've got guests." This was weird. Too fucking weird. Anton glared at him. "I don't care about my guests! I care about you!" 237

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"I care about you, too. What's the guy going to do, huh? I'll stay here with you. That'll keep him away." He wrapped one arm around Anton's waist. "There's too many people," growled Anton, arm around his shoulders, holding him tight. "They'll go home after dessert." He held on. "No growling." "No growling? You expect me to just smile and act like everything's normal?" "Yeah. Yeah, I do. If he's trying to fuck with us, we won't let him." Anton looked at him, and then tilted his head with a hard hand to his jaw, taking a breath stealing kiss. Oh. Oh, hell yeah. He kissed Anton back, the fear and discomfort fading back a little. Anton's teeth bit at his lower lip as the kiss ended, the sensation sharp. "There. I will try not to growl, but I won't promise not to glare at anyone who looks at you for too long." "That's fair." He grinned, winked, finally taking the time to look at the great room, at the amazing black and silver swags, the huge fuzzy spiders. Anton moved them back into the room, stiff beside him, but not growling. They wandered through the crowd, greeting people that Greg didn't know, nodding and smiling. Jesus, this was sort of exhausting. Most of the women flirted 238

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madly with him, Anton seeming to tolerate them, even if it was done with little grace. But anyone who tried to touch his bare chest got the evil eye from Anton and the arm around his shoulders would tighten. He didn't fight it, in fact, he leaned in harder, letting Anton hold him. It seemed to work for the sparkly-dressed women, the overly interested men. Everyone. The man who'd... scratched him remained hidden. The guy had either gone or was keeping to the corners they hadn't mingled in. Anton didn't eat any of the desserts that were making their way around, waiters with trays offering the delicacies and a nice light dessert wine to go with them. "The pastry chef is good, Anton. You'd like the mini cheesecakes." He took a truffle, humming as it melted in his mouth. Anton shook his head. "I can't eat. Not under the circumstances." "Not even a bite?" He snatched another morsel, bit half of it and offered the other half to Anton. Anton growled at that, but it wasn't an angry noise and it went right through him -- straight to his cock. Bending, Anton took the half bite from his fingers, tongue swirling around his fingertips. Oh, yeah. Just like that. "Mmm. You want another?" Anton nodded, eyes heavy lidded, body leaning into his. He stole a tiny tart, only big enough for a single raspberry. "Open up." 239

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Anton's mouth opened, tongue sliding over his lips. He grinned, stroked Anton's lips before pulling his hand away. "Mmm... it's good, but not as good as you." "I'm much less sweet." He waited impatiently for another dessert tray to wander by. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the man dressed as a wolf again, but when he turned to really look, the man was gone. That was just weird as hell. Or maybe he was just getting paranoid in his old age. Anton seemed to have relaxed some, though, at least he was playing the host with more flair and finesse. Aside from the fact that his arm was wrapped securely around Greg's middle, like an iron band. He managed to feed Anton three or four more bites, making the act something intimate, loving. Real. It was midnight before people started leaving, Anton shaking the men's hands, kissing the backs of the women's. It was all so cool and dispassionate, and such a stark contrast to how Anton behaved with him. Greg kept looking for tall, dark and toothy -- but no one came by. No one. Where had the man disappeared to? Before he knew it Anton had wished the last guest goodnight, Jackson closing the door behind them. "Where did he go?" He pushed into Anton's arms for a second, hugging the man tight. "I beg your pardon?" Jackson asked. "Where did who go?" 240

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"The scary guy. I never saw him leave." Anton growled, arms circling him protectively. "We'll search the place." "What scary guy?" asked Jackson. "There's still several of the waiters here..." "There was a man dressed like a wolf. He was... aggressive." Sort of like Anton. Who was growling again, going tight against him. Jackson's brow furrowed in concentration. "You know, I do believe I saw someone dressed as a wolf leaving the kitchen earlier." "My kitchen?" He headed there, straightaway. His kitchen. His. Damn it. Anton stalked along next to him, almost vibrating. Jackson brought up the rear, fussing about how everyone was had either been on the guest list or hired help. The scent of urine hit him as soon as he pushed the door open. "What the fuck?" Anton snarled and went over to the fridge, sniffing and then moving over to the door to the staff quarters. Jackson made a face. "Oh, my God! You, there, get all the waiters together, I want to know who did this!" 241

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There were only three waiters left, as well as the girl doing dishes, they formed a line in front of Jackson as Anton disappeared. "Who the fuck did this? Jesus Christ, that is fucking sick!" He was vibrating, checking the walk-in, the pantry. The worst of it was in the corner of the pantry, a huge puddle of piss on the floor where the door to the secret corridor was. Anton came up behind him, growling and snarling. "Here, too? The way to your old room's been marked, another large puddle in front of your door." He gagged, backing away. "I need to. I can't. Fuck." Soap. Water. Soap. Damn. Anton stalked along after him, in full blown growl now. "Who did this? Someone had to have seen something!" Anton glared at the hired help, the waiters all shaking their heads and protesting that they'd been out at the party, serving trays of food. Anton's glower came to a rest on the girl and she shook her head, cringing a little. "I didn't see anything, sir, not a thing. I swear I've been washing glasses and trays for the last hour without a break!" 242

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"Leave her be, Anton. I will call the police." Jackson patted the girl's arm. "No one's accusing you, my dear, we just want to know if you saw anything." "I didn't see a thing. I didn't. Just people coming in and out." She was white. Terrified. "It's all right. I'm going to call the police, though, will the four of you stay and give your statements?" Jackson was so damn calm. "I'll stay as long as you pay me," one of the waiters spoke up and the rest fell into line. Jackson raised an eyebrow and looked over at Anton. "I don't care; I just want to know who that fucker is. He was bothering Greg all night and now this? I want him found." Anton said it like he had plans for the guy. Unhealthy plans. Then Anton was at his side, hands hard on him, pulling him close. "You look awful -- are you okay?" "No. No, I'm not okay. I'm pissed off." He kept looking at the girl. "Somebody scared her, man. Man." Somebody threatened her ass. Anton went over to the girl, dragging him along, fingers holding his arm tight enough he was going to have bruises. "You know something," Anton snarled at the poor girl. "No. No, I don't." Greg shook his head. "Did he threaten you? He fucking scared me, you know." 243

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Anton snarled again. "Tell us! This is my home!" Man, Anton wasn't helping anything, all snarly and scary with those stupid sharp fake teeth in his mouth. "Stop it!" He could scream with the best of them. "Please, tell us. We won't let him hurt you, okay?" She shrank away from both him and Anton, but her mouth opened, a soft whimper coming out first. "It was... he was dressed as a wolf." The words were so softly spoken he could barely hear them. "We need more than that!" growled Anton. "We know it was the wolf." "Leave her alone!" snapped Jackson. "I have called the police. They'll be here momentarily and they can get a statement from her. They will take care of this through the proper channels." Anton glared at the man. "I take care of my own, Jackson." Jackson rolled his eyes. "Greg, take him out of the way and calm him down. The police said to make sure no one touched anything in case they taint evidence, so just... find a corner and keep him from scaring anymore potential witnesses half to death!" He swore if Jackson told Anton "bad dog, sit" he was going to lose it. "Sure, Jackson, man. Thanks. I'll take him in the ballroom 'til the cops show." Anton growled, but allowed him to get them both moving 244

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back toward the ballroom. They were almost there when Anton stopped. "Our bedroom," he growled. "He better not have gotten back there and marked my den." "I hope not. He was back there before. I didn't notice it." He couldn't stop shaking. "Maybe we should go to a hotel..." "I will not be chased out of my own home!" Anton growled, tugging him close and changing their direction so they were taking the public hallway back to Anton's bedroom. "I just... We could. I mean." He was worried. Scared. Wigged the fuck out. "What kind of guy does this?" "My kind," growled Anton. "He's marking my territory -challenging me." "I... There's more than one of you?" Was he some sort of fucking werewolf magnet? "Yes. But I know the ones in the city. We aren't a pack, not really, but we know of each other -- and we stay out of each other's ways or not as we want. We are... a strange kind of family, I guess. This is someone I don't know. And this behavior means he's challenging me. None of the wolves here would do that. Not like this." Anton growled again. "I should have known the blood was more than just vandalism." "The blood? What? Oh." Oh, God. Oh, fuck. He. That. Dude. 245

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Anton pushed open the door to their rooms, nose in the air, sniffing hard. "It would be easier for me to find any traces of him in here if I changed form." Anton was asking his permission. "It's your house, love." He couldn't get any more freaked out. Could he? Anton kissed him hard, tongue pushing in to sweep through his mouth. Then Anton stepped back, and did that change, that shimmering physically altering thing and suddenly the wolf was there in front of him, Anton beginning to sniff around the room. He stripped off the collar and ears, heading to the bathroom to change into jeans, to wash the blood off his chest. Anton wandered through the bathroom, nosing his ass and then his crotch, rubbing against his leg. "Hey. You okay?" He wasn't. In fact, he was thinking hotel. For sure. Without question. Anton barked once, and then changed, coming to stand behind him, holding him. "Our room was untouched. I could smell him in the hall, though. He came near." Anton's arms came around him, fingers stroking over the long scratch on his chest. "He marked you." "No, he hurt me and he's pissed me off." 246

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"He was trying to take you from me." Anton's hands tightened on his hips, pulling him back into his lover's strength. "We need to go to a hotel or something." "A tattoo parlor." Anton's fingers went to the ink on his belly, stroked it. "I want you to wear my mark. Permanently." "On Halloween night? We'll never get in and I'm not in the mood and..." He stopped, took a deep, deep breath. "I'm fucking wigged out, Anton. Scared. This is way beyond me." "You don't need to be scared. I won't let anything happen to you." Anton grabbed his chin and tilted his head back, taking a hard kiss. He opened up, trying to relax, but he couldn't. Something was hunting him. Growling, Anton dragged him back into the bedroom and onto the bed, never once breaking off on the hard kiss. He pulled back, panting. "The police..." "Can wait. You need me. We need this." Anton's mouth slid to his neck, Anton taking small, sharp bites. "I don't... I don't know if I can, man. I." His cock knew, though, getting full and hard. "Let it all go and focus on me." Anton growled and bit, fingers moving on him with hard, sure touches that he 247

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could feel deep inside. "I..." Oh. Oh, damn. His belly went tight, thighs parting. Spreading his legs even further apart, Anton ducked, tongue pushing against his exposed hole. He groaned, eyes rolling in his head. "Anton. Anton, I. Damn." The answering growl seemed to vibrate right inside him as Anton's tongue slid right into him, licking inside him. Bucking, he let his cry rang out, just echoing through the room. "Yes!" "Yes," hissed Anton before pushing into him again, fucking him with that hot tongue. There was no way to hold onto his fear, his worry. His cock wouldn't allow it. Anton's fingers dug into his thighs, keeping his legs spread and his ass tilted as that tongue worked its magic. Finally, before he could explode, Anton stopped, moving up over his body and staring down at him. "I want you." "Please. Please, man. I fucking need." Now. Right fucking now. "Good." Anton's cock nudged at his hole, and then pressed, Anton sliding the very tip in past the ring of muscles and out again, repeating the movements over and over. 248

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"T...tease." They had no time. They couldn't play. Anton grinned wildly down at him and the next push went all the way, Anton's cock spreading him wide and going deep. He groaned, entire body focused on his ass, on the heat and pressure inside him. Now that he was all the way inside, Anton didn't tease. Instead he set up a hard, heavy rhythm, plunging into him. "Please." He rolled up, pushing back down into each thrust. "Fuck. Please." Anton didn't say anything, just growled and moaned, and moved faster, harder, pounding into him. Greg gave himself over to it, grinding down, bouncing on that heavy, fat cock. His neck was licked, nuzzled, bitten, Anton growling, never once slowing the hard thrusts. "I... I love you, man. I do. More." Anton howled, the sound sending shivers through his spine, and his lover moved faster, harder, one hand finding his prick and tugging it along for the ride. He came at the very first touch to his prick, seed just pouring from him in waves. Goddamn. Anton howled again, making his orgasm last forfuckingever as that hard prick kept pushing into him. And then Anton came too, spunk pulsing into him, filling him deep. He held on, riding the aftershocks, licking Anton's lips. Anton panted, tongue coming out to bat lazily at his own. Heavy. Anton was heavy, but it was a good weight, like the heat and stretch inside him were good, too. 249

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"Don't let him take me, huh?" Don't let that fucker hurt him. Anton growled, dark eyes glowing as they looked into his. "No one takes you from me. No one. Not him, not anyone." "Swear it. I know it's stupid, but swear it." "I swear it, Greg. You are mine." "Yeah." He kissed Anton's jaw, humming a little. Yeah. He hoped the other guy figured that out. *** The police had come and gone and now Rosa and her crew were working on cleaning the place up. Anton prowled around the place, restless and angry. They were going to have to do quite a job to get it so he couldn't smell it. To make matters worse, someone from his household had let the guy in. It wasn't like they had security or anything, but Jackson had been adamant that no one had come in without an invitation. Which meant someone had snagged one and given it to the wolf. Even in his thoughts the word was said was said with a sneer. He needed to send out a call to those of his kind in the city, find out what they knew. The fastest way would be with the 250

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computer. Which he hated and usually Jason, his assistant, dealt with. But he didn't know now who to trust, who to believe was not working for the enemy. Except for Greg, of course. He stalked toward the kitchens, thinking he would probably find his mate there. The scent of bleach made his nose wrinkle, Greg scrubbing, steam rising up all around him. He crouched next to his lover. "We have people to take care of that." "It's my kitchen." The bleach was blistering Greg's skin, he could see the bubbles forming. He tugged at Greg. "You're hurting yourself!" "I'm not. I'm getting that bastard out of here!" He yanked Greg's arm up, fingers sliding over the blistered flesh. "Put on gloves or something to protect yourself at least," he growled. "Don't..." The bucket splashed over, water going everywhere. "God DAMN it!" He backed away, dragging Greg with him so he wasn't standing in the water which had who knew how much bleach in it. The smell was giving him a headache and he'd only been in the room a minute. "Let Rosa and her girls do this!" 251

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"It's my..." Greg turned a little green. "Oh. Dude." "What?" He pulled Greg close. Damn it! "Queasy." Yes, well the smell in this room was atrocious. "You need to get out of here." He tugged Greg out to the balcony, closing the door behind them. Greg took deep, gasping breaths, the color coming right back to the man's face. "Better," he growled, fingers moving over Greg's cheeks. "Yeah. Yeah, it is. It's better. Chilly, but better." Tugging Greg close, he rubbed the bare arms. "You're making yourself sick." "Someone fucking peed in our home, Anton." "Don't you think I know? I know. I know." He growled. He knew. And he hated it, but he refused to be driven from his own home. Greg reached for him, the urge to comfort immediate, gratifying as hell. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make it right." "I know, but you can't do that by hurting yourself." He took Greg's hand, fingers stroking above the blisters. "Mmm. Stings." Greg sighed, looking out over the city. 252

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"I could go pee in all the same corners he did." "Don't make me beat you, Anton." "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Or maybe I should beat you, hmm?" He smacked Greg's ass. His sweet little slut of a mate growled, but pushed back toward his hand. The way Greg responded to him made his prick jump. He hit that sweet ass again, putting some strength behind it. "We're out on the balcony!" Sweet and observant. "We're pretty high up." He smacked Greg's ass again, watching the pretty eyes. "Uh. Uh-huh. Outside, still." Greg grunted, hands landing on the railing. That had to hurt, at least a little, but that just made Greg's obvious need all the more enjoyable. "You think anyone can see us?" He smacked Greg again, giving what Greg was so obviously begging for. "They might. I don't know." Greg's hips were shifting, jerking. "You like that, don't you? The thought that just maybe they can. Maybe someone is looking up right now, watching me spank your ass." "I don't... Fuck. You. I... I can't think." No, but Greg could 253

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move, jerk, buck under his touch. "You aren't supposed to think." He growled and set up a rhythm, watching Greg's body move beneath his palm. Greg's body was moving in rhythm, front and back, over and over. "You gonna come just from this, Greg? Come without me touching your cock?" Greg shook his head, groaned. "Not a chance." "No chance at all?" He growled, swatting Greg harder. He loved the challenges Greg threw down. "Not. Not a chance." Greg's thighs spread for him, ass framed beautifully in the jeans. Right. Greg was in no danger at all from coming from this. He kept at it, stepping closer so he could growl his words out into Greg's ear. "You're mine, you know. And now anyone who cares to look can see. They can see me making you hump the air and beg for me not to stop." "I'm not begging." Greg's body was, though, those hips moved like a wet dream. "Not in words, no." He held the next slap back, watching as Greg's body surged back, searching for his hand. "Fuck..." Greg moaned softly, muscles rippling. 254

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He grinned wildly and found his rhythm again, hand smacking, growing hot as one hit followed another. "Anton." He did love that low, desperate note in Greg's voice. "Right here." Each word was punctuated with a smack, the thump of his hand landing on Greg's ass almost hypnotic. "I can't... It. I." He could see the tension growing in Greg's shoulders. "Yes, you can. Because nothing matters but your ass and my hand." "I. Anton. Fuck." His mate was shaking, vibrating. "Let me smell your pleasure." He leaned in and bit at Greg's neck. "Love!" Greg jerked, the scent of need sudden and strong. "Yes. Mine!" He smacked Greg's ass as he bit again. "Yes. Yes. Yours." He growled happily. He loved it when Greg fought him. He loved it even more when Greg finally gave in. "Mmm." Greg panted, leaned into him. "So good. So fucking good, love." "I know." He wrapped his arm around Greg's shoulders, tugging him in closer. 255

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Greg moaned, face lifting for a kiss. He gave it, tongue pushing into Greg's mouth, the flavor making him hard. Greg's arms wrapped around his neck, holding on tight, keeping him close. He rubbed against Greg's hip, his cock hard. "You want my mouth? My ass? I'm yours." "I want you to suck me." He pressed against Greg's shoulders, pushing him down. Greg moaned, went to his knees, so careful not to hit his ass on his heels. Greg looked amazing on his knees, the city spread out behind him. Anton opened his trousers, his cock pushing out, the air cold against it, but it only took a second for Greg's mouth to drop down over his cock, sucking him in down to the root. "Greg!" He grabbed Greg's hair, holding on. That mouth pulled and sucked, hummed and licked and just worked his prick. "Soon. Oh, fuck." He started rocking his prick, pushing it into Greg's mouth, the sensations shooting along his spine. He was already close; smacking Greg’s ass aroused him unbearably, made him so ready to shoot. That mouth worked him, tongue sliding and slapping against his shaft. "Greg!" He howled, crying out his pleasure to the sky as he poured himself into Greg's mouth. 256

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Greg sucked and hummed, pulling him in, drinking him down. He stroked Greg's hair, Greg's cheek. His own. Greg was his own. And he'd keep his own safe, no matter what he had to do.

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Chapter Twelve Greg couldn't sleep. He paced from one end of the flat to the other, wandering the spotless kitchen, heading down the hallway to peek in on Anton, then down to the room that had been his. It was ridiculous. They could go somewhere. A hotel. A cruise. Something. Somewhere. Anywhere but here. On the way back from looking at Anton, going through the kitchen, he heard something rattle. It stopped him short, his feet skidding on the tile. "Who's there?" "Hey, Greg." It was Jason, Anton's assistant. "What are you still doing up?" "Can't sleep. Dude, you scared me." 258

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"Oh, I'm not the scary one, Greg, am I?" Wow, Jason had a really smarmy smile. It was kind of creepy. It was also the most the guy’d ever said to him at once. "So startled. Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "You're up late. Getting overtime." "Yeah, something like that." Jason looked beyond him and nodded. And arm came around his neck, a hand covering his mouth and he was pulled up tight against a hard body. "Got you now." Fuck no. Greg's eyes went wide, heart slamming in his chest. Anton! Anton, be careful! It's Jason. "Get the back door." He was dragged back toward the staff quarters hallway. Jason trotted along past them to get the door. He fought hard, kicking and biting, trying his damnedest to make some fucking noise. Come on. Anton. Hear me! They got him out the door and down into the elevator, the hand over his nose and mouth making him dizzy, making spots form before his eyes. "When do I get the rest of my money?" 259

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"When the wolf is dead. You know what to do?" "I do." With that Jason backed away, the elevator doors closing. "It's just you and me now, pretty." No. No! Greg forced himself to be deadweight, but the son of a bitch was too strong, too Goddamn tall. The man laughed, the sound nasty as it slid down along his spine. But it was the teeth that threatened at his throat that really worried him. *** Anton didn't know what woke him, but when he reached for Greg, his lover wasn't there. Something was wrong. Growling, he climbed out of bed, heading for the kitchen where he expected to find his mate. Fear. Fury. Panic. He could smell it. 260

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Running, letting instinct fuel him, he headed down the staff hall, coming face to face with Jason, his assistant looking startled and afraid, before his face smoothed over, lies in the man's eyes. He grabbed Jason's throat and shook the man. "Where is he?" "Who? I don't." Lying. Scared. Desperate. He could smell it. He shook the man. "Tell me where Greg is!" He could smell Greg on the man as well, and another. Someone like him. "I don't know what you're TALKING about!" "Liar!" With a snarl he flung the man against the wall and stalked to the door at the end of the hall. The elevator. With a howl he headed for the stairs, all but flying down them. No one touched his mate. No one. He went all the way to the underground parking level, flying out of the door, uncaring that he was naked. He heard the squeal of tires and a shot rang out, hitting the wall above his head, chips of stone spraying. A gun? Someone would challenge him with a gun? Coward. He dropped down, shouting out Greg's name. Nothing. Nothing but the echo of the shot in his ears. He 261

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crept out into the parking garage, nose in the air, searching for Greg's scent. Greg's fear was on the wind, along with the scent of another of his kind. Stolen. His mate was STOLEN. Anton put his head back and howled. *** Darso continued to hold the human as they sped through the night, the man's struggles delicious, as was the fear that filled the air. "Home, Sir?" "Yes." He grinned at Anton's mate. "If your wolf wants you he's going to have to come get you." "Fuck you." The man growled, snapped at him, fighting the cuffs enough that the skin broke. Oh, blood. He breathed in the scent of the lifesource and then bent to lick at the broken skin, groaning. He hadn't had fresh meat in so long, too focused on hunting Anton to spend time on the prowl for game. 262

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"Don't you fucking touch me!" The human jerked back, teeth bared. Oh, spirit. He'd bet that was what Anton saw in this one, though he was still shocked the man had taken a human as a mate. "Or else what?" he asked, rather amused. "I will fucking kill you, man. I will." Darso put his head back and laughed. "Oh, you're cute." He just might have to keep the human around. "Fuck you." Sharp elbows dug into his side, pushing hard into his ribs as the human scrambled for the door. Darso grabbed the back of the ratty t-shirt the man wore, dragging him in close again. "Don't push too hard, little man. I'd hate to leave too obvious a blood trail for Anton to follow." "I'm not going to make this easy on you, shithead." The little bastard leaned forward and bit his cheek, hard. He slapped the man across the face, sending him reeling to the other side of the seat. "Someone's following us, Sir." The words stopped his punch and he turned to glare out the window. "What? He couldn't have caught up to us so quickly!" "He'll tear you limb from limb." Blood was spat over at 263

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him. "Your cuteness is wearing off, little man." He stared out the back window again. There was a motorcycle behind them, the man on it all in black, helmet making it impossible to see the rider’s face. Dorso knew, though, who it was. "You never fucking had any." He growled at the rude words, snarling at the human and leaning over, snapping his teeth near the vulnerable throat. "Shut up." He was going to tear the man's head from his neck. "He's still following, Sir." "Then drive faster, you idiot." "He's going to tear your throat out." Such spirit from one who had no business standing against someone like him. "No. I'm going to tear his out." He was going to kill the wolf and take his territory right in the middle of the city. And then he was going to kill the others, one by one. "No. No, you won't. He'll come for me and tear you limb from limb." "He'll come for you, but he's the one who's going to die." He pushed up into the stupid human's face and laughed. "It's a trap you see." "He'll know it. He'll..." 264

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"Enough!" He slammed his fist into the human's face, shutting that piece of shit mouth up. Enough. *** Anton stopped the bike at the end of a long country lane, pushing it under the cover of the trees clustered there. He'd followed Greg's scent, faint but there, the beast's instincts that he carried inside him, leading him to a town car speeding out of the city. Leading him to here. There was a house and a barn up the lane, the scent of hay, manure and animals strong, masking Greg's scent. The car had definitely turned up this lane, though, he was sure of it. Sticking to the bushes that lined the lane, he moved up the drive, nose working overtime as he tried to find Greg's scent. Every so often he caught the odor of blood, pain and loss in the smell. They'd hurt his mate. He was going to kill them. Slowly. Rip their throats out and let them bleed to death. It was a plan. The stronger the scent of his mate's blood became, the more 265

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angry he became, the beast finally taking over. He took on the wolf's form, not even bothering to strip out of the black jeans and t-shirt he’d thrown on, leaving them behind as the beast slipped out of them and made his way to the farmhouse. Anton could hear snarling, hear low, sobbing groans. He could smell Greg's blood. He began to run, four legs moving him quickly and he jumped, sailing through the window where the sounds were coming from, his teeth bared, the low, angry growl buzzing in his chest. Suddenly he heard Greg scream, the sound tearing into him. He went for the man standing over Greg, the other wolf here, his teeth closing over the man's throat before he could shift into his animal form and defend himself. "Anton! It's a trap! A trap! Run!!!" Greg's screams echoed. "RUN!" He didn't run, he couldn't. Not without Greg. He dug his teeth into the man's neck, holding on. Blood poured into his mouth, nails clawing at his chest. He let go long enough to find a new patch of skin to tear open, growling and tossing his head back and forth. Greg was struggling, panting, fighting desperately to get to him even as the worthless ass in his jaws went limp. He let go of the enemy, standing over him for a moment and growling, nudging the limp body with his nose, making sure he was really dead. 266

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Then he went to his mate. "Anton. Anton. It's a trap. Run." No. The enemy was dead. He wouldn't leave Greg. He tried to bite his way through the cuffs that held Greg to the chair, clawed at them with his front paws. "Anton. That isn't the same guy from the party. He isn't the one. You have to go. Please. Come back with police." Blood dripped from dozens of bites, just oozing. No. No going. He couldn't go. His mate was here, caught. Growling, he kept biting at the cuffs, teeth loud as they snapped over them. The beast's instincts were good, though, and it let him change, knowing he could deal better with the restraints as a man. He morphed, spitting at the taste of the enemy’s blood in his mouth. "Greg!" "Anton..." Greg sobbed. "Please. Please. He'll come back. Go." "He's dead." Anton pointed to the man in the pile of blood. He still had the taste of that blood in his mouth and he spat again, his fingers going to the cuffs, trying to work them open. Adrenaline was rushing through him, making him feel edgy, wild. "I can't go without you, Greg." "There's more. There’s MORE OF THEM!" Greg's head slammed against his shoulder. "Are you listening to me?" 267

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"More?" The beast reared up inside him. He was naked and vulnerable in this form. He could run faster as the wolf. But his mate... he was torn, everything in him screaming to run, and at the same time, to save Greg. "What about you?" He clawed at the cuffs, finding them no easier to undo with his hands as they had been with his paws and teeth. "Go. Go, lover. Please. Just go. Come back for me. Hurry." Greg leaned, kissed him once. "Go on. Now." Anton could hear others now, shouts outside, steps pounding up the front porch stairs. He could smell at least one other like himself, maybe more. "I'm coming back -- wait for me." He growled, shifting, tongue licking at the blood on Greg's face, his mate's scent and flavor filling him, giving him strength. He barked, once, unhappy at leaving Greg to the mercy of the enemy and then ran, crashing through the window at the side of the house and running into the scrub that used to be fields behind it. He had to think, to make a plan that would save his mate. *** He'd never thought dying would be easy. Greg swung on the chains, humming softly to himself, slowly building a mire poix -- cutting the onions, chopping 268

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the celery. He loved the snick-snick sound of his blade on each rib. The thunk of cutting carrots. The scent of things sautéing. Anton liked his food. Liked his steaks with carefully built starches -- the piped potatoes, the roasted ones, risotto. Well, Anton hadn't loved the risotto. Anton. He found a smile, even as his lips cracked with it. His lover. His growly, weird lover. God, he hoped Jackson didn't lock Anton back up in the room. That couldn't be healthy. Something whipped against him, but he didn't flinch, the stripe of heat unremarkable. "Come on, bitch -- cry out for your mate. Where is he, eh? He left you here." Greg chuckled softly. Yeah. For once Anton had actually listened to him. Beautiful asshole. He was going to miss those eyes. A shot rang out before the fuckhead could whip him again, 269

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followed by two more. "You hear that? It's done. Finished now." A single tear escaped him as he sighed, hanging loose. Finished. Run, Mate. I love you. Finished. He barely heard the footsteps on the stairs, but he couldn't miss the sound of a gun cocking, nor the voice that came with it. "All right, Dorso, it's over. Step away from the man." It was a woman. A somewhat familiar woman, the gun aimed not at him, but at his captor. "Andrea. You fucking bitch." He didn't even see the knife, just caught the glint of sun on the silver. He hadn't even seen the wolf that had come in behind Andrea, but he sure saw it -- saw Anton -- as he leapt at Dorso, teeth open in a snarl and closing around the man's wrist. The knife veered away from him and sank into the wolf's shoulder. A shot rang out, louder than anything he'd ever heard and both Dorso and Anton went down. "Anton!" He jerked with the final bit of energy, pain screaming along his nerves. "MATE!" 270

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The world went black, the last image in his mind before his body gave up.

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Chapter Thirteen Anton came slowly to consciousness, the pain in his shoulder throbbing with every heart beat, letting him know he was very much alive. He forced his eyes open, whimpering slightly as the light hit them. He was in a strange bed, in a strange house, his arm bandaged and held against his chest, the shoulder throbbing and aching and he flashed suddenly on Greg chained to the ceiling in Dorso's cellar, the man about to slit his mate's throat. "Greg!" He surged up, pain lancing through his shoulder, making sparks dance behind his eyes. "Hey, gently now." Andrea was there at his bedside, family and cop. She'd been there at the farmhouse, too. She and several others had come while he'd been trying to figure out how to save Greg. "How...?" "Your man Jackson called me, told me Greg had been taken and you were chasing him down. There'd been rumors about Dorso and his cronies trying to move in and it didn't 272

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take long to put two and two together. We took out his guards and then found Greg in the basement with the sadistic son of a bitch." "Greg." He tried to sit up again, agitated. "Where is he?" Andrea jerked her head to the other side of the room where Greg lay on another bed. Greg looked small, still, bandages covered the man. "You have to let him rest. He..." Those familiar eyes stared at him, the woman's eyes serious. "He's been bitten, so many times. He'll... If he doesn't change, you'll lose him. I'm sorry." "Change? That bastard changed him?" He growled, whimpered. "I don't know if he wanted that. He didn't even know it was a possibility yet." And Greg had still been kind of freaked out by him being a wolf... He didn't know whether to be angry or scared or joyous that Greg wasn't dead. Maybe all three. "You need to eat and then you need your rest. There isn't anything you can do right now. It's up to him." She picked something up from the bedside table, offering a plate with a large steak on it. He fell on it, not caring that it was cold – it was meat. His stomach growled as he ate, his shoulder beginning to feel better before he was even halfway through the hunk of meat. By the time he was finished eating, his wound was no longer bothering him. 273

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He wiped his mouth. "I won't be able to sleep without Greg -- and he needs me." Now that he was awake, there was no way he could just lie in the best next to Greg and not with Greg. "He's not awake. I'm sorry. Can I get you some water? Something?" "You can get out of my way so I can go lie down with him." He bared his teeth, letting her know he was serious about this. He was fed now, practically healed. She wouldn’t keep him away from Greg. She growled low, snapping back. "What if he doesn't know you?" He snarled. "I'm his mate." "He's a human." "Get out of my way." He sat on the edge of the bed, the pain flaring for a moment as he moved, before the last of the healing was finished. Greg moaned, nostrils flaring. "Anton..." "See." He glared at her, pushing her with his good hand as he stood and made his way over to Greg's bed. Shit, his legs felt rubbery, like they were going to give out on him. The healing had taken it out of him. Well, the events of the past day hadn’t helped any either. 274

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Still, he had the strength to get to his mate, to touch the poor face. He leaned heavily against the bed as he stroked Greg's cheeks. His mate's skin was so hot, almost burning up. It made him whimper softly, as did the bite marks, the bruises that covered Greg's face and hands, the only part of his mate Anton could see. Greg responded to his touch, settling, nuzzling against his fingertips. Groaning, something loosening inside him, Anton pulled off the bandages and climbed into the bed to lay on his good side, Greg turning into him just like that. His mate. His. "You can't die. You said you'd wait for me, Greg." Greg moaned, deep and low, the sound rough and raw. That sound ached deep inside his chest and he whimpered softly, pressing close even as he turned into the beast, his doggie tongue licking at the wounds he could see. Dying. His Mate. His Mate. He howled, head thrown back. He howled again and again, needing his mate's reply. One hand stroked his fur, random words reaching his ears, trying to comfort him. The touches finally reached through his pain, though the agony his mate dying. He tilted his head, licked Greg's chin. 275

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Greg whimpered, leaned toward him. Yes. Yes, his mate. Loving on him. He gave a bark, full of hope and almost happy. Then he licked Greg again, tongue sliding over Greg's face. Those eyes were open. Looking at him. He barked again, and then fought the beast, wanting to kiss his mate, to hold Greg in his arms as a man. The beast's hold finally loosened and he morphed, mouth pressing immediately against Greg's, gaze never leaving his mate's. "Anton. Anton, go. They'll hurt you, love." "No, Greg. They're dead, gone. We're safe." He pressed kisses over Greg's face, breathing in the scent of his mate. "Safe. I was... It was a trap. Jason. Jason let him in." He nodded. "I think I killed him." "Actually, you didn't." Andrea fussed around them, checking Greg's temperature with the back of her hand, making sure he was tucked in. "Jackson made sure he was cared for so he would be well enough to be arrested." "I hurt. Don't let them hurt Anton." Greg kept touching him. "Nobody's going to hurt you or Anton, and the police won't be involved except for Jason." She sat down on a chair next to the bed. "Jason has been arrested as the man who 276

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vandalized your home both times. He'll no doubt tell the police Anton is a werewolf, and that he was working for two others, but the police are going to believe he's crazy. Things will settle back down.” "Why did Jason do this?" The man had lived in his home and run his business for nearly five years. He didn’t understand it. "He was jealous. He wanted what Greg had." Anton snorted. "He was not." Andrea gave him a sharp look. "He claims the two of you had been flirting almost since the start." "I barely knew he was there!" She nodded. "I think that might have been the tipping point. That when your mate came into your home he realized you didn't love him, didn't see him." Greg groaned, shifted, pulled away. "It's my fault?" "No." He answered immediately. Sure of that. Andrea shook her head. "Dorso would have found another way do try to take out Anton. He wanted us all gone." "I'm sorry. I know. I love. I." He could feel Greg's heart beating furiously. "Sh. Not your fault, Greg." He pressed kisses over Greg's face, against his lips. "Not your fault." 277

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"Love. I hurt. Inside. I hurt." Oh, God. What if Greg couldn't handle it? What if he hated it and would rather have been dead. Anton wouldn't be able to bear that. "Dorso bit you, Greg. A lot. He broke the skin, and he was trying to turn you. Andrea said he'd succeeded, that the only way you would live was if you became... like us. Like me." "What?" "Anton, he's too weak. Just enjoy the time you have left." "I'm not losing him," he snarled at Andrea. If Greg didn't want to, then he would deal with that, but to just let Greg fade away? No. "Greg. If you bite me, take my blood into you, it'll complete the change. You'll be like me, but you'll live. Otherwise. Otherwise you'll die." "Anton, he's sleeping. He can't hear you." Greg's eyes were closed, breath coming quick and shallow. "Greg! Mate!" He gathered Greg into his arms, rocking his mate, face buried in Greg's neck. He'd promised Greg would be okay. He'd promised Greg would be safe. Curled around Greg's body, he prayed he had a chance to keep that promise. 278

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*** Hurt. Hurt. He shifted, a grinding, burning ache climbing up inside him. "Anton." Anton, help me. "Mate." Anton's breath slid into his lips, filled his lungs. Oh. Oh, better. He nodded, relaxing as the pain eased. "Yes." "You need to take my blood, Greg. To live. You need to change." "Change?" He couldn't quite keep his eyes open. "You're okay? Safe?" "I'm fine, Greg. Safe. Good. But you were bitten by a werewolf. A lot. You need to complete the circle or you'll die. Please, Greg. I don't want to lose you." "I don't understand. What circle? You've bitten me before." "A bite here and there and mostly not enough to draw blood. Dorso... he bit you all over, love. He wanted you to die in the agony of needing the blood to take you over." Anton stroked his face, fingers so warm. "Am I dying?" He wasn't ready, not if Anton was safe, here. 279

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Anton nodded. "Yes. And no. You have to make a choice, and you have to make it now, Greg. You can take my blood and become a werewolf, or you can die." "I'm not a werewolf, love." Anton wasn't making sense. "But you can become one. And if you don't you'll die." Those dark eyes were staring into his own, intent, glowing. "I don't want to die. Not now that you're safe. Please. Help me." Anton nodded, kissed him. "And then we can be together forever." Bringing his arm up, Anton bit himself and then held his wrist over Greg's mouth. "Drink, mate. Take in my blood and join me." "Anton." No hurting his mate. None. He licked the blood away, groaning low as the pain inside him eased immediately. "Take more. You’re my mate, take as much as you need." He scooted closer, moaning around Anton's wrist. Love. Mate. The blood was coppery and sharp on his tongue. Anton pressed close, mouth sliding over his nose, kissing his eyes, his forehead. "Yes. I can feel you getting stronger, feel you staying with me. Mine. My own. My mate." He pulled back, panting, his skin tingling. "Anton. Love." 280

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"Yes. You're mine now. For always." "Yours. I was yours before. I would die for you." "No one is dying today." Anton beamed at him, and then brought their mouths together, the growls filling his mouth. "No. Not dying." Greg imagined he could feel himself healing, feel his skin knitting. He felt stronger than he ever had before. He felt... different. He felt like he was going to live, his mate with him. A throat cleared and they both turned their heads to find... Andrea? sitting there. "You survived the change. All that's left is for you to take your alternate form." "I was thinking a nap was in order." A nap sounded perfect. Anton nodded, settling half on him, half curled around him, head next to his on the pillow. "Whatever you want, mate. Whatever you want." *** "I want out of here!" Restless and bored and pissed -- he wasn't a fucking prisoner. Greg wasn't sure what he wanted or where he wanted to go, but he didn't want to stay here. He felt better -- the bites and bruises fading faster than he could imagine, energy filling him. "He's really taking to it well. Are you sure he doesn't have 281

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one of us in his background?" Andrea just wouldn't fucking go away. "I don't know." Anton growled at her. She merely raised an eyebrow. "If you," Anton said quietly, "would bring us some clothes, we could go home." "I want to make sure he can make the change before I say he's well." God, she just wouldn’t stop hovering, insisting they do things her way. "I want OUT!" A sudden fury hit him and he snarled, fist slamming into a mirror, shattering it. Andrea's face took on a familiar, stubborn look. "Change first. Something could go wrong and if that happens you have to be here where I can help you if needed." Anton took his hand, carefully kissing his knuckles. "It does make sense for you to make the change here, first." Leaning in, the rest was whispered into his ear. "We're on a farm. We could run together, Mate." "I don't know how." He didn't even begin to know how to do this. "I can help you. I want to help you." Anton tugged him to the middle of the room. "You need to take off the sleeping pants, first." "Make her go." He didn't want to do this with company. 282

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Anton turned to Andrea and snarled. "Get out." "Anton... if anything goes wrong..." "I'll call you. Get out. Now." Greg nodded. He needed this to be between him and his mate. Him and his Anton. She looked for a moment like she was going to argue again, but he and Anton were pretty fucking stubborn and maybe she could see that on their faces because she pursed her lips, but gave them a curt nod and left, the door closing with a loud snick behind her. The tension eased a little, and he leaned against Anton. "Thank you." "We'll make sure you can change back and forth and then we'll go for a run, and then we'll make Andrea give us some fucking clothes and let us go home." Anton stroked his belly, stroked the ink there. "I still want you to wear my mark. Now more than ever." "I will. I don't know how to do this, Anton. I can't begin to figure it out." Anton was so warm. So strong. "I'll talk you through it." Anton's fingers tugged at the sleeping pants he'd had on when he woke here in this 283

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room. "I'll be right here with you." "Will it hurt?" "It'll feel weird, like stretching muscles you haven't used before, but it doesn't hurt." Anton took his hands and leaned their foreheads together, breath warm on his lips. "Love you, Mate. Thank you. Thank you for staying with me." "I needed to. We... we mate for life, yeah? Forever?" At Anton's nod, he smiled. "I couldn't let you be lonely forever, man." Anton growled, taking him mouth in a hard kiss. "Are you ready?" "I don't know." He grinned, trying to laugh off his nerves. "I don't think you can be ready to be a wolf." Anton nodded. "I am sorry this happened to you, but I'm not sorry you're still with me." "Help me?" He reached up, drew Anton down into a long, slow burning kiss. Help me, lover. Anton's arms went around him, tugging him into the warm, solid body. "Mmm... okay. Just close your eyes and think of your tail." "My... Oh, God, this is weird." Scary. Fucked up. 284

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"You'll get used to it," Anton told him wryly. "You remember what I look like in my beast form? Base what you think of on that. Tail, ears, paws, muzzle, as the first parts come in, the rest should follow." "Tail. Right. Will I look like you?" He closed his eyes, imagined what his lover looked like, the warm eyes, the beautifully patterned fur, the long, heavy tail. "I don't know. Oh! Mate. Beautiful." His eyes flashed open as his body groaned and stretched, a strange heat suffusing him. He tried to call out to Anton, but his voice wouldn't work. "Oh, Mate." Anton growled, fingers sinking into his fur -his fur!. "You're beautiful. Dark coloring, strong muscles." Then Anton shifted, too, barking and rubbing their muzzles together. He chuffed and barked, feet sliding on the wood floor, tail slamming into things. He yelped and jumped as something behind him fell and crashed. Anton barked loudly, commanding his attention, muzzle opening, gnawing on his own muzzle and on his ears. He sniffed, the scent of sex and love and his Mate - His Mate! flooding him. He pushed close, sniffing hard, exploring the soft fur, the long body. Anton explored right back, nose sliding beneath him, to nudge at his cock, behind to scent his rear. He panted, eyes rolling a little, body trying to understand what to do, trying to understand urges that were new to him. 285

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Anton rubbed their muzzles again and barked twice, and then took off toward the window. He followed, panting and shaking a little as he worked on walking. Anton ran back to him, barking and chuffing, rubbing their muzzles together again. Then with another bark Anton leapt, going through the screen on the window. Barking again, Anton called to him -- Mate! Come! He found himself leaping without thought, following the white-tip of his mate's tail, following his Anton into the sunshine. Anton barked happily and took off, the invitation to follow clear. He ran, tail held high, the scents everywhere almost overwhelming, almost. Anton came back and ran with him, barks happy. And then his mate nipped at his heels, making him go faster. It was too much to understand, too much to think on, so he simply ran, letting the dried grass tickle his belly, smelling the hint of snow upon the air. Anton led him, and encouraged him, barks happy. When they reached the end of the field Anton led them into the woods beyond, stopping at a small stream to drink. The water was cold, shocking him, making him jerk and then push closer, lapping more. When Anton had drunk and drunk, he came over, standing close and panting, rubbing their necks together. Then Anton put his head back and howled. His own howl bubbled out from his chest, filling the air, joining with Anton's, splitting the air. 286

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Mate. He could feel Anton's happiness, could smell it. Another howl came from Anton, echoing slowly away as Anton waited again for his response. Greg through his head back, howling, the sound just ringing out. Anton answered him, their voices calling back and forth to each other. Finally, Anton stopped, pouncing him and knocking him to the ground, rolling with him. Teeth fastened on his ruff, shaking him a little bit, Anton's growl vibrating through him. Anton waited until he stilled, held on a moment later and then bounded up, barking happily. He spun, nipping at Anton's tail. Bastard. Beautiful bastard. Anton's chuffing preceded another bark and then Anton took off, heading back toward the field and the farmhouse. They ran and ran, the time melting away. Suddenly though, Greg was exhausted, slumping in the shadow of the farmhouse, muzzle on his paws. Anton came over, barking and pushing at Greg with his muzzle. He rumbled softly, barking back. Tired. Tired, mate. Anton shifted, turning into a man again just like that, and picked him up, carrying him the rest of the way. Panting, he cuddled in, losing the wolf form as soon as they hit the bed. "Anton." Had he done well? 287

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Anton's eyes glowed. "Mmm... that was incredible, wasn't it? I've never had someone to run with. Mate. Love you." "Love." He pushed in, eyes dropping closed, stomach growling. "Love." "Take a nap. Then food. Then loving." Anton's hands slid over his body. "I need you, mate." "I'm yours, Anton." He lifted his chin, begging a kiss. It was given, Anton's mouth coming down hard on his, the word mine growled between them. The kiss was hard and toothy and good. He wrapped around Anton, holding tight, moaning into Anton's lips. "You came for me. Saved me." "Of course I did." Anton's hands slid around to squeeze his ass. He moaned and pressed closer, hands wrapping around Anton's shoulders. "Want you, Mate." He hadn't heard that growl in what felt like forever. "Need." His lips brushed over Anton's throat, tasting the salt there, the flavor that was uniquely Anton. Anton spread his legs and dove between them, tongue lapping at his hole. A sharp, loud sound escaped him, torn from his throat as Anton licked and slicked him. Anton growled in answer, tongue pushing into his body, fucking 288

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him. "Please. Fuck. Love..." His head tossed, heart pounding as his cock throbbed, everything in him focused on his need. Surging up along his body, Anton pushed into him, cock spreading him wide, filling him with Anton's heat. Whole, healed, healthy -- he could do this forever, now. For years. Good. Anton's eyes glowed down at him, mouth pressing against his, tongue pushing in. The old bed creaked under them, the springs bouncing. He dug his fingers into Anton's shoulders, dragging them closer together. "More." "More." Anton nodded and pounded into him, moving faster, pushing harder. One hand found his right nipple, fingers pinching. "Fuck, yes." He jerked, ass clenching around Anton's cock. "Mine!" Anton repeated the word with every new thrust. "Yes." He leaned up, nipped Anton's shoulder. "Mine." Anton growled, the word 'yours' in the sound. "Yes." His body went tight, stomach burning. "Yes, mate." Hand wrapping around his prick, Anton leaned down and bit his neck. His head slammed back, seed pouring from him, the whole world going a shimmering grey. Anton howled, the sound beautiful, heat filling him. 289

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Greg slumped to the mattress, panting, moaning low. Anton rested on top of him, breath hot against his neck. "Mate." He petted Anton's hair, humming low. "Mmm... yes. Love." Anton's lips touched his throat gently. "Nap." He was so tired, so fucking tired. "Nap and then home. Home, mate." "Yes. Yes, please." Home. He couldn't wait.

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Chapter Fourteen Anton waited impatiently for Greg to finish dressing in the borrowed clothes. His own were just a little tight, the t-shirt clinging to his body. He wished they’d found the clothes he’d been wearing when he’d chased after the men who’d taken Greg. At least the jeans weren't cutting into anything important. They were going home. Finally. Him and his mate. "I think I should be insulted," Andrea told him, coming into the room and giving him the keys to his bike. "You're both so eager to get out of here." "We want to go home." He wouldn't apologize for it. He wrapped his arm around Greg as his mate came up and the two of them headed out, finding his bike in front of Andrea’s farmhouse. Greg nodded. "I need my kitchen, our rooms, our life. Jackson needs someone to take care of." "Be careful out there. There were three of them; that's not a 291

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very big pack." "You think there's more still out there?" He didn't want to believe that, but he knew it was possible. He settled onto the bike, pulling his helmet on. "I hope not. But better safe than sorry." She patted his arm, and then Greg's. "Things are cleared up with the police. Call me if anything else happens." "We will. We just need to get our lives back." Greg slid behind him, hands wrapping around his waist. "Mmm..." He slid his hands over Greg's, squeezing them, his mate warm against his back. He pulled down his visor. "Get out of our way, Andrea, we're going." Chuckling, she stood aside. "We'll see you, Andi! Take care!" She waved absently, pulling her cell phone from one pocket as they started the engine and drove off. It felt good, riding along, the power of the engine between his legs, Greg pressed up against him. He put his head back and howled, laughing as the wind blew the sound back at him. They rode into the city, Greg close and heated against his back, fingers teasing his belly, his chest. It was wild and sexy and the trip back into the city was far too short. The city was gearing up for the holidays already -Thanksgiving around the corner, the shops already lit up and decorated. He could even smell snow on the air. 292

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Holidays with his mate, he bet Greg would make the most amazing meals for them to share. The traffic picked up and he weaved around it, eager to be home, to bring his mate home. There was smoke on the air, heavy and thick. The sound of a siren split the air and Anton slowed way down, moving to the side of the road. "What is it?" Greg hollered as two fire trucks whizzed by. "Looks like a fire. Hopefully we'll be able to drive around it." Greg nodded. "It sounds big." It did. It sounded big. It smelled big. His cell phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. Growling, he pulled right over and stopped, digging the phone out, flipping up his visor. "What?" "Turn around, Anton. Just turn the bike around and come back." Andrea sounded near panicked. "What's going on?" He looked back and mouthed, "Andrea". "Tell her to let us go home and we'll call her back." He nodded. "We're going home, Andrea." 293

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"You can't. It's gone. I'm sorry, Anton, but you have to come back here." He tensed, growling angrily. "What are you talking about, Andrea? We're like three blocks away." "Fire. I'm talking about a fire." Oh, shit. "I'll call you back." He shut the phone and slipped it back into his jacket. He shouted back to Greg before starting the motor back up. "I think the fire's at our place." "No." Greg's hands squeezed him tight. "No, it can't be." He wanted to agree, but he had a bad feeling about it. Andrea had sounded scared, worried. He worked the bike slowly through the traffic, the smoke becoming thicker the closer they got to home. "Anton, Anton, call Jackson. Make sure everybody got out." He waited until they were close enough to see that yes, their home was on fucking fire, flames and smoke pouring out from the top floors. He stopped the bike, staring, one hand finding Greg's and holding on. His mate was okay. His mate was here with him. Alive. Then he pulled out his phone, flipping it open and automatically dialed home, cursing when it just rang and rang. Of course there was no one there. Greg jumped off the bike, started running into the crowd. "Rosa! Jackson! Where are you?" 294

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He followed Greg, grabbing his mate's arm, pulling Greg up against him. "Careful," he growled. "I won't lose you." "We have to find them." Greg's eyes were glowing, the beast close to the surface. He nodded, could feel his own beast answering Greg's. "Together. And carefully. It isn't a coincidence that our place went up in flames the day we left to come home." Greg was vibrating. "Is this because of me?" Those blue eyes scanned the crowd, searching. "No, mate, it's because of me." There was no way this wasn't the same people who'd come after him in the first place. They pushed their way to the tape in front, a policeman trying to keep the crowd away. "Is anyone still up there?" he asked, eyes scanning the crowd for Jackson and Rosa. There was no point trying to smell them out -- the smoke covered everything. "Are you the owner?" The door man came running up before he could reply. "Mr. Lupi! Mr. Lupi. They brought down Rosa and Maria. They were... They..." "Jackson! Did they find Jackson?" Greg was vibrating, snarling. "No, no they didn't." The door man dropped his head. 295

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Anton snarled himself, grabbing the arm of the fancy jacket the man wore. "Spill it!" It was obvious there was more. "They've stopped looking, Mr. Lupi. The top three floors are completely engulfed and no one can go up there!" "No. Jackson knows the ways out. Jackson knows." Greg was pale as milk, staring. He wrapped around Greg from behind, hand on his mate's belly. "He'll be fine. He was probably out anyway, buying stuff to make the place ready for our return." It was the kind of thing Jackson would do. The man had been with him for years. Had kept him sane on many a dark day after the full moon. Jackson was... Jackson. "We have to find him. They'll kill him, Anton. Turn him against you." "He would never turn against me." Which would mean they would just torture and kill the man. He squeezed Greg tight, finding strength in his mate's presence. Greg was right. They had to find Jackson before the enemy did. Jackson might not be a werewolf, and he might not be mate, but the man was their family. "We'll find him," he growled, tugging Greg back into the crowd, back toward where they'd left the bike. His phone beeped, vibrating once and he grabbed it, snarling. There was a message, a picture, Jackson standing, bloodied and bruised against a brick wall. The text message simple. 296

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"The pup for the human -- trade you." Oh, he didn't think so. "Come on," he growled, dragging Greg back to the bike. "We have a rescue to mount." He'd get Andrea and the rest of the pack and they'd declare war against the outsiders who dared to hurt his family. He straddled the bike, Greg solid and warm against him. With his mate at his back, there was nothing that couldn't be faced. "Ready, mate?" Greg's answer was a howl, loud enough to drown out the sirens. Look for the sequel to Bite in late 2008

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