Evans, Gabrielle [Sexually Awkward 02] Naughty by Design

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Sexually Awkward 2

Naughty by Design

Feeling alternately aggressive and disconnected, Nigel Durbin is

having a hard time distinguishing what is real lately. The

dangerously sexy shifter who comes to his rescue when his ex

threatens him is very real, however, and Nigel just wants to rub

all over the guy and purr.

His mate's scent hits Cayson Downs the second he walks into

Daylight Café. Instantly, he knows without a doubt that he'd do

anything, be anything that Nigel wanted. He'd failed once to

protect the people he loved, but he vows not to make the same

mistake again.

Of course, nothing is ever that easy. Strange things are happening

at the paranormal prison where Cayson works as a guard, the

inmates are turning up mysteriously ill, and Nigel's ex won't back

off. Can Nigel and Cayson's relationship hold up under the strain?

Or will they crash and burn when the truth is revealed?

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Length: 51,537 words

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NAUGHTY BY DESIGN

Sexually Awkward 2





Gabrielle Evans






EVERLASTING CLASSIC

MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove


NAUGHTY BY DESIGN
Copyright © 2012 by Gabrielle Evans
E-book ISBN: 1-61926-667-9

First E-book Publication: March 2012

Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without
express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.


PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

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Letter to Readers


Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Naughty by Design by Gabrielle
Evans from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you.
Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy


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The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying
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This is Gabrielle Evans’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please
respect Ms. Evans’s right to earn a living from her work.

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

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www.BookStrand.com


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NAUGHTY BY DESIGN

Sexually Awkward 2

GABRIELLE EVANS

Copyright © 2012





Chapter One


“Hey.”
Atticus smiled adorably and settled his hands on Salem’s waist.

“Hey back.”

Nigel was pretty sure he’d just gotten a cavity. Ever since Atticus

had mated the vampire, the two of them were mostly inseparable, and
they were so cute together that it made him want to hurl. “Can you do
that somewhere else?” He huffed in annoyance and shoved at Salem’s
back. “And get off my desk.”

Salem peeked over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. “Why are

you being such a dick?”

“Salem!” Atticus gasped in reprimand, but Nigel had been asking

himself the same question for weeks. He still didn’t have an answer.

“Why are you even here? You don’t belong here.” Why had he

just said that? He actually liked Salem. The man wasn’t so bad for a
vampire.

“I belong wherever Atty is. You still didn’t answer my question,

though.”

“There’s nothing to say. I’m only a dick to you because I don’t

like you. Now, get off my desk and leave.” His blood pressure was
rising, his temper so close to the surface these days. At first, he’d

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Gabrielle Evans

chalked it up to jealousy, but that wasn’t right. He didn’t want Salem,
and he was happy his friend had found someone to love him.

“Guys, don’t fight.” Atticus spoke quietly, beseechingly, but

Nigel couldn’t stop himself.

He shoved away from his desk and reached for his travel mug. “I

need more tea. I’ll be back in a few.” Salem used his wicked vampire
mojo to snatch up the cup before he could reach it, though. “Give it to
me.”

“Nigel, we just want to help you,” Atticus whispered. “Why are

you acting this way?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Nigel snapped. More to the

point, he didn’t know what was wrong with him. “I don’t need your
fucking help!” I don’t want you to see me like this. So he shoved at
his chair and stomped out of the building, needing to put some
distance between himself and…well, everyone before he snapped at
someone else.

It was fucking cold. The wind cut through his thin sweater like a

knife and smacked him in the face, making each inhale a struggle to
draw the arctic air into his lungs. He was jumpy, practically vibrating,
and full of a nervous energy he couldn’t put a name to.

Worse, he was pissed off and couldn’t figure out why. It seemed

he was always angry these days, lashing out at the people he loved for
the tiniest infractions. He had no idea where his temper was coming
from, but somehow, he imagined that it correlated directly to the
strange energy that thrummed inside him constantly.

Stepping in through the glass doors of Daybreak Café, Nigel

Durbin sighed in relief as the warmth of the coffee shop enveloped
him. The sudden change in temperature made his face and fingers
sting, but it would pass. Why the hell hadn’t he grabbed his coat
before leaving his office?

“Hello, Nigel.” The barista grinned at him seductively when he

stepped up to the counter. “Back already?”

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Naughty by Design

9

“Hello, Drew.” He’d been dating the man for almost two weeks,

but he really didn’t know why. The guy was a complete ass and made
him feel uncomfortable. Being twenty-four and never having had a
relationship before, he figured he was in no position to be picky.

“You want the usual?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” No. He really wanted coffee, but his

new boyfriend always scolded him like a child when he mentioned it.
Besides, the herbal tea Drew made for him tasted amazing, and it
really did calm him. For a little while, at least.

He waited off to the side for Drew to make his tea and add the

sugar and honey to it that he liked. When the man crooked a finger to
beckon him over instead of just saying his name, Nigel huffed and
stomped up to the counter. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be a little late coming over tonight,” Drew informed him as

he passed over the paper cup. “Just leave the door unlocked, and I’ll
let myself in.”

Nigel didn’t like the sound of any part of that. “Why will you be

late?”

“It’s nothing important. Don’t worry about it.”
“Actually, I’m not feeling that well. I might just go to bed early

tonight.” He really didn’t want Drew coming over at all, but the idea
of flat out refusing him made his belly clench painfully.

“That’s fine. Like I said, I’ll let myself in when I get there. I’ll

even bring you soup.” He grinned widely, showing off his perfectly
straight teeth. His wavy, blond hair was pulled back and secured at
the nape of his neck, making his face seem more angular than usual.

Drew was a handsome man, all hard muscles and golden skin. He

looked like he should be in Hawaii somewhere, catching the perfect
wave—not working at a coffee shop on the east side of Indianapolis.
There was something about him, though, that scared Nigel.

“Really, I think it would be best if you didn’t come over tonight. I

might be contagious, and you don’t want to get sick.”

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“We don’t get sick, and you know it. Are you saying you don’t

want to see me?” There was a slight growl to his voice, his anger
seeping through the tight smile on his lips.

Luckily, someone approached the counter at that moment,

distracting Drew so that Nigel could attempt his getaway. He made it
only two steps before Drew called him back, though. “We’re closing
in a couple of minutes. Grab a table and wait for me.” No matter if he
was smiling, it wasn’t a request, more of a demand laced with a thinly
veiled threat.

Resigned to a confrontation with the man, Nigel sighed, found a

table in the corner near the window, and sat. He wrapped both hands
around the warm paper cup, stared down at nothing in particular, and
let his mind wander.

He needed to go back to his office, Fantasy Creations, and gather

his belongings before heading home. The thought of facing his friends
after the way he’d treated them made his stomach feel queasy, though.
Why was he acting like such a prick all the time? Gods, he’d even
cussed out Atticus’s mate, Salem, who just happened to be the king of
the vampire race. It really didn’t get much worse than that.

Maybe he should take a vacation, a little time to himself, until he

figured out what was wrong with him. There was really no need to
continuously subject his friends to his foul attitude. They hadn’t
caused this and didn’t deserve the way he’d treated them. They were
all worried for him. He could see it in their eyes. Unfortunately, he
didn’t have any answers.

Circling the plastic lid on his cup with his forefinger, Nigel moved

on autopilot, not really paying attention to what he was doing. He
tried to think of what he could say to Drew, a way to dissuade the
man from coming to his house later. His brain bounced around from
one thought to another, too fleeting for him to catch onto any one of
them. Crap! Why couldn’t he focus?

The harder he tried, the more frustrated he became until he wanted

to hit something—not an emotion that had usually plagued him, until

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Naughty by Design

11

recently. Taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself, he looked
out over the room, surprised to find there was only one other man
there besides him and Drew.

Oh, and what a man he was. His long legs stretched beneath the

table, encased in dark denim and ending in a pair of well-worn boots.
Sandy-blond hair with just a hint of curl fell down past his ears,
highlighting his high cheekbones. The hint of a five-o’clock shadow
adorned his jaw, giving him an edgy look that Nigel found very
appealing.

He knew he shouldn’t be staring, but gods, he couldn’t help

himself. He’d thought Salem was big, but the vampire king had
nothing on this man. A plain white T-shirt stretched tight across his
chest, molding to him and showing off every hard brick of muscle
when he moved.

Then Mr. Yummy lifted his head and pinned Nigel with his gaze.

Even from the distance, Nigel could tell they were an intense
midnight blue. They sucked him in, making it impossible to look
away, even as his cheeks heated with the embarrassment of being
caught staring. A slow, confident smile curled the corners of the
man’s lips, and he dipped his head, just a minute movement that was
all the more powerful for its subtlety.

The bell over the door rang, pulling Nigel’s attention to the

entrance, and he frowned when his friend, Dorian, stepped inside with
a little shudder. Without so much as a pause, he made his way directly
to Nigel and sat down across from him. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s good to see you, too,” Dorian countered sarcastically. “Nigel,

we need to talk.”

Nothing good had ever come from that statement. “I know I’ve

been acting kind of crazy lately, but I’m fine.” It was his automatic
response whenever his friends started in on him. He just wished it was
the truth.

“Do you feel jumpy, nervous, or high-strung?”

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Nigel frowned. He felt all of those things. “What are you talking

about?”

“Do you feel like you have this unfamiliar aggression inside of

you that’s just eating at you, causing you to snap sometimes?” Dorian
watched him closely as he spoke, casting quick glances toward
Nigel’s drink before focusing on him again.

“What’s going on? Why are you asking me all of these things?”
“Just answer the question, Nigel.”
“Yes, okay? I feel all of that. Drew says it’s part of the mating

heat and it will disappear once he’s claimed me.”

“Drew is a lying sack of shit,” Dorian spat.
“Dorian, don’t.” Nigel darted his eyes to the side, relieved when

he found Drew nowhere in sight. “You need to leave, okay?”

“I’m not leaving without you. Listen to me.” Dorian reached

across the table, grabbed Nigel’s hand, and squeezed it tightly. “You
can’t trust Drew. You have to stay away from him.”

“Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?” Deep down, he

knew it wasn’t, but his anger was quickly boiling to the surface again.

“Nigel!” Grabbing his cup and popping the lid off of it, Dorian

pushed it back toward him and pointed. “He’s putting catnip in your
tea,” he whispered. “Atticus and Salem figured it out when they
smelled it in the travel mug on your desk.”

Immediately, Nigel bent and sniffed at his tea. Then he stopped

and rolled his eyes at himself. He didn’t know what the hell catnip
smelled like. He had, however, heard about the behaviors the herb
caused in cats, and it explained every one of his symptoms as of late.
“That bastard!”

Though he was part human, his cat was so much a part of him that

he wasn’t immune to the side effects of the plant—not even in human
form. As a small cat—a Siamese cat, to be precise—it was no wonder
he’d been acting like a mental patient. How much of the stuff had he
consumed in the last couple of weeks? It certainly explained why he

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Naughty by Design

13

always felt like a junkie looking to score his next hit, because that’s
basically what he was.

“Come on, man.” Dorian rose from his chair, still holding on to

Nigel’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nigel shook his head firmly. “You go on. I have something I need

to deal with.”

“Then I’ll wait. I’m not leaving you here alone.”
He couldn’t blame Dorian for his concern. Drew was bigger and

stronger, not to mention a wolf shifter—or so he’d been told. It would
be an outright lie to say he wasn’t a little afraid about confronting the
guy, but it was his fight, and he’d never forgive himself if Dorian was
hurt trying to defend him.

“Dorian, go home. He won’t try anything in public.” His eyes

briefly strayed to the stranger sitting across the room. “I’ll call you as
soon as I leave.”

Dorian didn’t look convinced, but after a long pause, he nodded

and released Nigel’s hand. “I’m parked outside. I’ll wait in the car,
but that’s as far as I’m going. If something happens, yell and I’ll hear
you. Got it?”

“Got it.” His throat constricted with emotion. “Thank you, Dorian.

I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass.” Dorian and the others weren’t just
his friends. They were his family, and he’d treated them like trash.
Still, they stuck by him, never gave up on him. He didn’t deserve
them.

Instead of saying anything, Dorian simply smiled, dipped his head

once more, and left. Nigel knew he’d keep his promise, though.
Maybe it made him weak and cowardly, but he felt much better
knowing that backup was on standby.

With his friend gone, Nigel’s attention returned to Mr. Sexy,

watching the way the muscles in his throat worked as he took a long
swallow of his drink. Those dark-blue eyes turned their penetrating
gaze on him once again, holding him hypnotized, making it
impossible to look away.

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“Was that Dorian?” Drew dropped into the chair beside him and

took his hand.

Nigel cringed at the contact. “Yes,” he answered shortly. “He had

some very interesting news to tell me.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Drew’s eyes flickered to the

untouched cup of tea on the table. “You didn’t drink your tea. It’s
probably stone cold by now.”

“What kind of tea is this anyway?” Nigel spoke calmly, but his

insides were a trembling mess. Fuck, the man scared the hell out of
him. He could do this, though. No way was he going to be someone’s
plaything.

Drew didn’t answer the question, and his eyes tightened in the

corners. “What did Dorian tell you?”

“Cut the bullshit, Drew. I know you’re putting catnip in my tea.

This whole time you’ve been drugging me, trying to convince me that
the jittery feeling was our mating bond.” He took a deep breath and
let it out slowly. “I’m done. We’re done. Go fuck yourself and have a
nice day.”

He went to stand, but the pressure on his hand increased to the

point of pain, holding him in place. “We are not done until I say we
are,” Drew whispered harshly.

Nigel winced when Drew squeezed his hand even harder. “You

can’t intimidate me.” It was the biggest lie he’d ever told, because he
was far beyond intimidated at the moment. “Dorian is waiting right
outside.”

“And I could crush your windpipe before you ever got the chance

to yell for help.”

Nigel cast a quick look toward the other man in the room,

wondering whether he’d intervene or look the other direction if things
turned violent. To his utter disappointment, the man rose from his
chair and crossed the room to toss his cup in the trash. Crap! He was
leaving, and Nigel would be completely alone with Drew.

“What the hell are you looking at?”

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“Nothing,” Nigel answered immediately, prying his eyes away

from the stranger.

The man’s trek to the trashcan had brought him closer and given

Nigel a small blast of power, declaring the guy to be a paranormal.
Hope renewed, and Nigel prayed that whatever the man was, he had
advanced auditory senses and had overheard the conversation
between him and Drew.

By luck, fate, or some type of divine intervention, the man

approached their table with a genial smile, stopping just beside Drew.
“Would it be possible to get another cup of coffee? I know you’re
closing, but I could take it to go.”

“Sorry, sir,” Drew answered over his shoulder. “I’ve already shut

down everything and cleaned up.”

“That’s okay.” He wasn’t looking at Drew as he spoke. His eyes

traveled slowly over Nigel’s upper body, ending at his hand where it
was still clasped inside Drew’s. “Is there a problem here?”

“Just a little spat between lovers.” Turning back to him, Drew

smiled tightly, his stare ice cold. “Isn’t that right, baby?” He squeezed
again, probably harder than he intended—or maybe not. Either way,
Nigel felt the bones in his hand snap, and he cried out from the pain
of it.

In a flash, the muscled man behind Drew wrapped long fingers

around his throat and bent to growl in his ear. “Let him go, or I’ll rip
both of your arms off and shove them up your ass.”

Nigel was released immediately, and he jerked away, cradling his

injured hand to his chest as he battled back the tears that prickled the
corners of his eyes. It would heal on its own in a couple of hours, but
it was going to hurt like hell until then.

Releasing Drew’s throat, his rescuer straightened to his full and

impressive height, moving around the table to crouch at Nigel’s side.
With a gentleness that belied his massive frame, he took Nigel’s wrist
and pulled his hand away from his chest to examine it. Then he did

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the most incredible thing. He dipped his head and brushed his lips
over the already bruised and swollen skin.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.”
The simple statement almost made Nigel melt right there in his

chair. “Thank you,” he whispered back. “It’ll heal soon.”

“I know, little one. It doesn’t make me any less sorry, though.”
Drew seemed to have found his senses—or perhaps lost them all

together. He jumped to his feet, growling like a wild animal, and
Nigel could see the air ripple around him as he began to shift.

“Sit!” the new guy barked, never taking his eyes away from Nigel.
Surprisingly, Drew stopped growling, stopped trying to shift, and

sat back down in his chair without argument. Holy shit, who was this
man?

“Are you ready, angel? Do you have a ride home?”
“I–I–I…my car is…it’s…” Nigel pressed his lips together and

closed his eyes on a groan. Way to go, spaz. He blamed it on the
endearment that had been spoken so softly to him. His heart was
racing, his palms sweating, and a shiver worked its way up his spine.
How was he supposed to think with his emotions so out of whack?

He’d gone from pissed to scared, back to angry, then to terrified,

and now he was fighting the urge to jump into his protector’s lap and
lick every inch of him. Maybe it was the catnip. Perhaps the drug was
still messing with him, confusing his poor brain.

Now that the guy was closer, Nigel could definitely scent

shifter—canine, if he wasn’t mistaken. Maybe the man was a wolf
like Drew. If so, it was the only characteristic they had in common.
Then again, Drew had been very charming when they’d first met.

“What is your name?” the shifter asked him.
“Nigel Durbin.”
“Okay, Nigel.” His big hand came up to cradle Nigel’s cheek.

“My name is Cayson Downs, and I’m going to take care of you,
okay? Will you trust me to do that?”

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Nigel found himself nodding. He didn’t know this guy from

Adam, and he definitely shouldn’t be trusting him with his safety.
Yet, his instincts told him the man wouldn’t hurt him. Not now. Not
ever. Every part of him felt drawn to Cayson, like an invisible line
linking them, pulling them toward one another.

That’s when it hit him. “You’re my mate,” he whispered in shock.
“Bullshit!” Drew shouted. “I’m your mate. You know that.”
“Silence,” Cayson growled. He pushed to his feet, slipping his

hand under Nigel’s elbow to urge him up as well. “Your friend is
waiting in his car, right?” He waited for Nigel to nod in agreement.
“Go let him know that everything is okay. He’s probably worried
about you.”

Gods, Dorian was probably going out of his mind. Nigel was

surprised he hadn’t already stormed back into the coffee shop with his
fangs out. “Good idea. Will you…I mean, are you…” And why the
fuck couldn’t he form a coherent sentence? He felt so damn lame.

Cayson simply smiled and bent to kiss his forehead. “I’ll be out in

a minute, angel. I won’t leave you.” He crossed the room, grabbed his
jacket from his former seat, and came back to drape it over Nigel’s
shoulders.

The smell of leather enveloped him, along with a scent that was

uniquely Cayson. Nigel turned his head into the collar of the coat and
inhaled deeply, sighing happily at the delicious blend of fragrances.
“Thank you.”

A possessive light flashed in Cayson’s eyes before he composed

his expression and placed another chaste kiss on Nigel’s forehead.
“You’re welcome. Go talk to your friend. I’ll be out in a minute.”

With the promise of seeing Cayson again soon, and wanting to get

far away from Drew, Nigel nodded and hurried out to the parking lot
without so much as a glance at his ex-boyfriend.

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Chapter Two


Cayson waited for his mate to exit the building and watched him

through the window until he disappeared around the corner to the side
parking lot. Remaining calm and gentle with the smaller man had
been much easier than he’d anticipated, especially considering how
close to the surface his anger burned.

When he heard the slam of a car door outside and knew Nigel was

safely with his friend, he stalked around the table, unleashing his rage
so that the asshole who’d dared to hurt his mate would feel the full
extent of his displeasure. It didn’t matter that the guy was a wolf
while Cayson was a Doberman. Cayson was older, stronger, and had
little patience for the rude, arrogant fucker.

“What is your name?”
“Fuck you.”
In a move too fast for the man—Drew, he’d heard Nigel say—to

anticipate, he grabbed the back of the wolf’s head and slammed his
face against the table. “Manners, pup. Now, I asked you your name.”

“Drew Macon,” he answered grudgingly after shaking off the

disorientation from the blow.

“And what is your association with my mate?”
“He’s mine,” Drew snarled at him, obviously forgetting his place.

Despite the difference in breed, Cayson was still the alpha in this little
scenario.

“Wrong answer, pup. Let’s try another question. Which pack do

you belong to?”

“None of your business.”

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“Oh, a lone wolf, is it?” The man really was an idiot. No one

threatened an alpha’s mate, especially Cayson’s, without
consequences, and now he didn’t even have a pack to offer support.

“Go to hell.”
That attitude was really beginning to grate on Cayson’s nerves.

Grabbing Drew’s ponytail, he jerked the shifter’s head back on his
shoulders and leaned in until their noses were almost touching.

“Let me be perfectly clear. You will not speak to Nigel, breathe in

his direction, or even think of him again. If I find out you called him,
if I see you anywhere near him, I will be very unhappy. Trust me,
pup, you don’t want to see me unhappy. Got it?”

“Fine. Take the little prude. I’m tired of trying to fight my way

into his pants anyway.”

Cayson stepped back and slammed Drew’s face into the table

again. “Don’t fuck with me, Drew. You won’t like what happens.”
Leaving the wolf to bleed, Cayson strolled out of the little café,
confident that he’d gotten his message across.

The minute he rounded the curve in the sidewalk, the passenger

door of the compact sedan in the parking lot flew open, and Nigel
came jogging up to him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Cayson replied with a smile while he pulled his jacket

more securely around his mate. Nigel’s short, brown hair whipped
around his face in the wind, and his cheeks were already pink from
the cold.

As he stared up at him, there was so much trust in those sky-blue

eyes that it made Cayson’s chest constrict, though not exactly
uncomfortably. If they were human, it would probably be unsettling,
since they’d only just met. As shifters, their beasts called to one
another, establishing a connection, triggering their most primal
instincts.

It would also explain Cayson’s violent reaction to witnessing

Nigel’s injury. Well, that and the fact that he felt genuine disgust for
everything about Drew. Unwilling to dwell on thoughts of the wolf

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shifter, he brushed one wavy lock back from Nigel’s forehead and
smiled. “How’s the hand?”

“Healing.” Nigel sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and

stared down at his shoes for a long time. “Umm, well…” He trailed
off, and a frustrated breath puffed out through his mouth in a cloud of
vapor. “I don’t know what to do now.”

His shyness was endearing and made the smile on Cayson’s face

stretch wider. “Well, you can get in the car with your friend and go
home. Or, you could let me take you to dinner so we can get to know
each other, and then I will take you home when you’re ready.”

“I’d like that. The second part. Not the going home part. I mean, I

want to go home, but not right now. Though I should probably
change. Do I need to change? Where would we go? I don’t like spicy
food. If you like it, we can get some. Food, that is. Crap, please talk
so I’ll shut up.”

Cayson found his mate’s rambling completely adorable, but he

doubted Nigel wanted to hear that. So, instead of interrupting him
verbally, he cupped the man’s jaws in both hands and did the one
thing he’d been wanting to do since he’d watched Nigel walk into the
café. He bent and pressed their lips together in a teasing touch, simply
rubbing them together without demanding more.

With his six-foot-six frame hunched over, he felt like a giant

compared to his mate. He wasn’t very good at guessing
measurements, but he figured there was at least a good eight- or nine-
inch difference in their heights. He didn’t care what his mate looked
like—though the man was stunning—but it was rather inconvenient
for kissing.

The driver’s door opened, reminding him of their audience. So

with a great deal of reluctance, he broke the chaste kiss and
straightened. Just that one little touch was electrifying, made his lips
tingle, and had him craving more.

“Hello,” Nigel’s friend said cautiously. “I’m Dorian.” He held his

hand out and offered a tentative smile.

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Cayson took the hand and gave it a firm squeeze but not so firm as

to be intimidating. If this man was his mate’s friend, he wanted to
make a good impression. From the brief conversation he’d overheard
inside the coffee shop, he knew Dorian was very protective over
Nigel. Knowing Nigel had people who cared about him so much
pleased Cayson a lot.

“Cayson Downs,” he introduced himself as he released Dorian’s

hand and stuffed his own into his pocket. Short sleeves weren’t ideal
for the brutal Indiana winter, but he wasn’t about to take his jacket
back from Nigel. As his mate, the little shifter deserved everything
Cayson could give him, including the shirt off his back, if that’s what
he wanted.

“I don’t know what you did in there, and I don’t need to know.”

Dorian looked him right in the eyes as he spoke, his shoulders back
and his head held high. “Thank you. I shouldn’t have left him alone
like that, so thank you for standing up for him.”

Him is right here,” Nigel huffed, his lips turning down in a

frown. “I’m not a child, and I don’t need a babysitter, Dorian.” He
stopped speaking, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply for a few
seconds. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s going to take a while to get the catnip
out of my system.”

For humans, and even noncat paranormals, it probably seemed

humorous that the herb would cause such behaviors in a man. As a
shifter himself, Cayson understood that Nigel and his cat were twined
together, two parts of a whole, right down to the very core of his
being. What impacted his cat impacted him and vice versa.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine. In a couple of days, you’ll be as good

as new, right?” Dorian pulled Nigel into his arms and hugged him
briefly before releasing him. “Do you need a ride back?”

Nigel peeked up shyly at Cayson through his eyelashes and

shifted his feet nervously. Cayson’s cock twitched at the
unintentionally seductive look. Images of his mate spread out before

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him like a feast flittered through his mind, those gorgeous blue eyes
heavy lidded for a whole other reason.

“I could take you,” Cayson offered. He didn’t want to scare the

man off by coming on too strong, but the idea of having Nigel
separated from him so soon didn’t sit well with him. He had a very
uneasy feeling that they hadn’t seen the last of Drew Macon. Until
that threat passed, Nigel shouldn’t be alone, even if he sought
company with someone other than Cayson.

To his intense relief, Nigel nodded and gave him a sweet smile.

“I’d like that, and maybe…maybe that dinner you mentioned.”

Dorian chuckled under his breath, clapped Nigel on the shoulder,

and shook Cayson’s hand again. “It was nice meeting you. Nigel says
you’re his mate, so I guess that means he’s in good hands. I’ll leave
you guys to…get to know each other.” He winked mischievously and
backed away until he reached his vehicle.

“He’s an idiot,” Nigel said affectionately. “Please ignore him.”
“He’s a good friend.”
“Yes, he is. Dorian, Atty, Thad, Cedric, and Bren—we’re all

family. They’re the only family I have left.” There was fondness in
his tone but also an undercurrent of sorrow that Cayson knew all too
well, and it made his heart ache.

“Then you’re very lucky to have them.” Cayson pointed across the

parking lot to his Toyota Tundra and placed his other hand on the
small of Nigel’s back, encouraging him to move. “So, where to first?”

“I need to get some things from the office, but if you don’t mind

coming back, it can wait until after we eat. I’m starving.”

“You have the munchies,” Cayson teased him. It was a serious

situation, and every part of him wanted to rip Drew apart for his part
in Nigel’s suffering, but being maudlin wouldn’t change anything.

Using the key fob to the unlock the doors remotely, Cayson

waited for the chirp of the alarm before opening Nigel’s door for him
and offering a hand to help him up into his seat.

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Nigel seemed startled by the act, but after only a brief hesitation,

he placed his uninjured hand inside Cayson’s, using it for leverage as
he lifted himself into the cab of the truck. “Thank you.”

Cayson nodded, deciding not to comment on the odd behavior.

Had no one ever opened a door for him before? Hadn’t anyone other
than his friends ever shown him kindness? Deciding that it wasn’t the
time for those kinds of questions, he pushed the thoughts away and
hurried around to slide into the driver’s seat. “So, where to, Mr.
Durbin?”

“Anywhere is fine. There’s not much that I don’t like.” Nigel’s

hands shook, even though they were folded together in his lap.
Whether he trembled from nerves or the drugs in his system, Cayson
wasn’t sure. There wasn’t much he could do about the latter, but he
could certainly take care of his mate’s anxiety.

Reaching across the console, he rested his hand lightly on Nigel’s

knee, squeezing it reassuringly. It didn’t have quite the effect he was
hoping for, however. The man’s breath hitched, and he about jumped
out of his skin at the contact.

Removing his hand, Cayson placed it back on the steering wheel,

keeping his motions casual. “Well, you know this area better than I
do. Point the way to the grub.”

Well, that seemed to do the trick. Nigel chuckled softly and

bobbed his head obediently. “I’m rather partial to fish. There’s a sushi
bar about two miles down on Washington Street.” He pointed out the
windshield. “Second red light and hang a left.”

Pulling out of the parking lot, Cayson drove in the direction Nigel

had indicated, wracking his brain for something to say. The silence
wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but he was supposed to be getting to
know his mate. “So, what is it that you do?”

“Me and my friends own Fantasy Creations. We design and create

custom-made sex toys for paranormals.”

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Cayson shifted in his seat, trying to make room for his suddenly

hard cock. “Is that right? And you make these toys exclusively for
paranormals?”

“Yep.”
“How do you do that? I mean, how do you know if someone is a

paranormal when they call?”

“We ask questions, make subtle references to our world. If it’s a

human, we just tell them that we can’t help them and direct them to
another business in town. It’s pretty rare that a human calls, though.”
His eyes lit up, and Nigel became quite animated as he talked about
his work. A bright smile stretched across his face, making his already
gorgeous countenance breathtaking.

Since he was very interested in hearing more about these kinky

toys his mate designed, Cayson was more than happy to let him
ramble on. Besides, watching him wave his hand around and bounce a
little in his seat was really kind of cute.

“It wouldn’t really matter if we accidentally sold to a human,

though. I mean, it wouldn’t give anything away. Salem, that’s Atty’s
mate, he owns this club. I don’t know if you’ve been there. It’s called
Darkness Falls?”

He didn’t even give Cayson a chance to answer before flicking his

wrist and continuing. “Anyway, it’s exclusively for paranormals as
well, and the doorman actually sniffs people.” He paused, and his
eyebrows drew together in concentration. “I think he must be some
kind of canine.”

Cayson bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “And

what do they do with the humans?”

“Oh, Salem says the doorman pretends to check a list and says

they’re not on it. Then he just sends them on their way. I heard that
this place in Castleton has a witch on staff, and there are charms
around the club that repel humans. Can you believe that?”

Cayson had seen a lot in his life, but he’d never had the pleasure

of meeting a witch. “I think I’d like to see that.”

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“Maybe…well, maybe we could go together sometime.” Nigel

was back to being uncertain and shy, but there was no need for it.

“Sure, we could do it tomorrow night. I’m off work then. How

about you?”

“No, I don’t work tomorrow.” Turning sideways, Nigel settled

back against the door and snuggled deeper into Cayson’s jacket.
“Where do you work?”

“I work security at Ironrock PCC Cambridge.”
From the tilt of his head and the way his nose crinkled, he knew

Nigel had no idea what he was talking about. And why would he?
Cayson dealt with the most vile and repulsive of their kind on a daily
basis so that the innocent like Nigel wouldn’t even know they existed.

“What is PCC? Is that like a company or something?”
“Ironrock Paranormal Correctional Complex.”
“Oh, holy smokes!” Nigel pushed up a little straighter, his eyes as

big around as dinner plates. “You work in a prison? A prison for
paranormals? Is it dangerous? Has anyone ever attacked you?”

Cayson rubbed absently against his T-shirt, right over his ribs,

where the thin cotton hid the wounds that had only recently healed.
“I’ve never been attacked by an inmate.”

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Chapter Three


Sitting close together at the waist-high bar, Nigel picked at his

sliver of salmon with his chopsticks, answering all kinds of insane
questions from his mate. The man wanted to know everything, and
while it was sweet that he cared so much, Nigel didn’t particularly
like talking about himself.

Not only was he the most boring person on the planet, but he

either ended up sounding arrogant or as if he had zero self-esteem.
Neither was true. He was just very self-aware of his strengths and
weaknesses.

“What’s the craziest toy you’ve ever designed for someone?”
Nigel chewed his food slowly and swallowed as he mulled it over.

“We get a lot of weird requests. I don’t know if I could pick the
craziest, but we all have our favorites. Mine is probably the
Thundering Boomstick.”

“Oh?” Cayson’s eyebrows disappeared into the hair that draped

over his forehead, and a wicked little smile tugged at his lips. “Do
tell.”

Nigel leaned forward and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial

whisper. “It’s a dildo, but not just any dildo. It rotates, the head
swivels, and it has these little nodules along the shaft. It has a control
that makes it do all kinds of stuff, too. It makes a noise like thunder
crashing in a storm, and every time it does, it vibrates with different
levels of intensity.”

“Wow, you created something like that?” Cayson’s tone held just

the right amount of awe. It wasn’t over the top or understated as if he
was being sarcastic. Nigel liked him just a little bit more for it.

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“Well, I designed it, but Thaddeus actually built it. He’s the mad

scientist of the group.”

“So, who ordered it? I mean, like what kind of paranormal wants

something like that?”

“An elf, actually, but I guess his boyfriend ended up dumping

him, because he called and canceled the day we finished it. I have it at
home in my closet.” Nigel snapped his lips closed and felt his cheeks
warm at the confession. “I haven’t used it or anything. I mean, I don’t
sit around watching porn and playing with myself.”

Oh, gods, shut up! What in sweet hell had made him say

something like that?

“I never said you did.” There was amusement in Cayson’s voice

now, but Nigel didn’t think the man was mocking him. Still, he’d
pinpointed why he was feeling so flustered.

“It’s your fault.” The man made him want things he’d never

wanted—things that made his cock hard and his pulse race.

“Excuse me? What’s my fault?”
A change of topic was definitely in order. “Is it rude of me to ask

what you shift into?” He could still catch a whiff of canine, but it was
different from how Drew smelled. There was a hint of aggression that
mingled with the scent, but it wasn’t as wild or untamed as his ex.

“Doberman. It’s part of the reason I got the job at Ironrock.

Dobermans make good guard dogs and are highly trainable.”

Nigel frowned at his mate. “What does that mean?” How exactly

had these people trained him? Somehow, Nigel didn’t think it was
with treats and belly rubs.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Cayson answered firmly. Then the

smile returned, and he bumped his knee against Nigel’s under the
counter where they sat. “Your turn. What kind of kitty are you,
angel?”

“Siamese.” It wasn’t exactly a source of pride, but he wasn’t

ashamed, either. It was simply a fact.

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How his parents had ever come to be friends with Dorian’s, and

then the rest of his friends’, parents was beyond him, since all of his
friends were some type of wild cat—and most big cats at that. Hell, he
wasn’t sure how his parents had even come in contact with the others.
Still, they’d made it work—something Nigel was insanely grateful
for. What would he do without his friends?

“You don’t look Asian.”
Little snorts escaped Nigel until he gave up and dissolved into

laughter. “And you don’t look very German.” That wasn’t strictly
true. What did Germans even look like anyway? “I mean, you don’t
sound German.” Yes, because that was better.

Luckily, Cayson conceded the point with a nod and tilt of his

water glass. “Touché.”

The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable silence, each of them

sneaking looks at each other and passing coy smiles between them. It
was Nigel’s first foray into flirting, but he thought he was doing a
pretty good job. The sexual tension sizzled between them until he
could practically hear the crackle of it.

While the silence was comfortable, the swollen cock trapped

behind his zipper was anything but. Other than the fact that it was
bent sideways and aching like hell, the reason for it was a completely
new sensation. Unlike most guys his age, he didn’t walk around with
a perpetual hard-on, nor did something as simple as a soft breeze
make him stand at attention.

On an almost daily basis, he came in contact with a variety of

attractive men. Short, tall, blond, brunette, blue eyes, green eyes, pale,
tan, skinny, muscular—the male physique was a multifaceted thing of
beauty. Not one of them made him want to arch his back and moan
like a wanton slut, though.

How did he even begin to satisfy a man like Cayson Downs? The

guy could definitely have anyone he wanted, man or woman. So,
more importantly, how would he compare to Cayson’s previous
lovers? Would he make a complete fool of himself? Most likely.

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Maybe he should look into purchasing some of those books they’d

tried to get Atticus to buy when he’d first met Salem. Maybe
something like Sex for Dummies. Yeah, that sounded like it could be
useful.

Who was he kidding? He’d need a whole encyclopedia set to

explain all the things he didn’t know about sex. Oh, the basic
mechanics were easy enough to understand, but there had to be much
more than push-pull-repeat.

“Nigel?”
His eyes grew wide, and the breath caught in his chest as he stared

back at Cayson. Panic exploded inside of him, making him tremble
while his heart beat a hard, fast staccato against his sternum. He
couldn’t do this. Could he? Oh, gods, he didn’t know what to do.

Calmly, as though Nigel wasn’t about to hyperventilate in front of

the entire restaurant, Cayson pulled out his wallet, dropped money
beside his plate, and stood. Without a word, he urged Nigel to his feet
with a steady hand on his lower back, wrapped the leather jacket
around his shoulders, and ushered him out of the building.

Just like before, he opened Nigel’s door for him and helped him

inside. Instead of hurrying around to his own seat, though, Cayson
cupped his cheeks in both hands and leaned closer until their lips
almost touched.

“Breathe with me, angel. You’re okay. Just breathe.” He inhaled

deeply. Let it out slowly. Over and over, he breathed, watching
intently as Nigel mimicked him. “That’s right. Good,” he whispered
soothingly. “Again.”

Nigel didn’t know how long they sat there, just breathing together,

but eventually his pulse returned to a less dangerous rhythm, and his
muscles relaxed, making it easier to draw the oxygen into his lungs.
Now that the blood was circulating to his brain once again, however,
he was coherent enough to feel like a total loser.

“Better?”

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“Yes, thank you.” Nigel ducked his head, embarrassed by his

behavior.

“None of that,” Cayson chastised him softly as he slid two fingers

under Nigel’s chin and applied gentle pressure until he lifted his head.
“You want to tell me what happened?”

“Not really.” It was only fair, though. Cayson deserved an

explanation, even if speaking it out loud made him want to crawl into
a hole and curl up in the fetal position. “I…I’ve never been with a
man before. I’ve never been with anyone for that matter.”

“And you thought I was going to jump you right there on the sushi

bar and defile your perfect temple?”

“What? No!” Before Nigel could get himself worked up, Cayson

grinned and pecked at his lips.

“Relax, angel. I’m not going to take anything you aren’t willing to

give.”

“I know.” He knew it as certainly as he knew his own name. “I

just don’t want you to be disappointed that you ended up with a virgin
loser for a mate.”

“And here I was worrying that you’d be disappointed that you’d

ended up with a possessive, overbearing, underpaid dog.”

Nigel rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t stop the goofy grin that

stretched his lips. “Okay, I get it. So, what do we do now?”

Cayson pressed their mouths together again before standing

straight. “We go get your car.”

* * * *


“Would you like to stay for a little while?” They stood on Nigel’s

front porch, illuminated by the single bulb encased in the oriental
fixture above the door. Nigel wasn’t sure what he would do once he
got the man inside, but he wasn’t ready to give up his time with
Cayson.

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“I don’t have to be at work for a couple of hours. I’d love to come

in until I have to go.”

Turning around to hide his smile, Nigel unlocked the door and

pushed it open, stepping inside first and flipping on the living room
light. “Well, this is it. Just make yourself comfortable. Would you like
something to drink?”

“Whatever you have is fine.”
Nigel spun around and cocked his head to the side. “Why are you

still out there?”

Cayson stood on the front porch, leaning one muscled shoulder

against the doorframe. Hadn’t he wanted to come inside? That’s what
he’d said, wasn’t it?

“Well, I’m waiting for you to invite me in, angel.”
“Oh, well I thought that was kind of implied when I asked if you

wanted to stay.” Was Cayson messing with him?

Cayson, however, was looking at him as though he were the one

acting insane. “Yes, but you have to actually say the words.” He tilted
his head, mirroring Nigel’s expression of confusion. “You don’t
know, do you?”

“Just come in here.” Was Cayson a hybrid? Was he part vampire?

Nigel couldn’t scent it on him if he was. “What the hell is going on?”
he asked when Cayson stepped over the threshold and closed the door
quietly behind him.

“How can you not know?” He walked closer, but Nigel took a step

back for every forward motion, feeling very uneasy all of the sudden.

“What don’t I know? Are you a vampire?”
“No, angel. I’m not a vampire.”
“Stop calling me that!” Nigel sidestepped so that the length of the

sofa sat between them. “Tell me what you mean!”

“How old were you when your parents died?”
Nigel grew even more suspicious at the change of topic. “I was

nine. What does that have to do with you needing an invitation into
my house?”

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“No paranormal can come into a private residence without an

invitation, Nigel. It’s not exclusive to vampires, nor does it have to be
a human’s home.” Cayson spoke quietly, evenly, as though coaxing a
small, frightened child out of a hiding place.

“You’re lying. I would have known that. Why are you lying to

me?” His friends had been inside his house a million times without
his invitation. Hell, they often showed up when he wasn’t even home.
He’d also been to their homes, and he’d never needed them to ask him
inside.

“Think about it, Nigel,” Cayson said as if reading his mind. “It’s

almost automatic. The day you signed the closing documents on this
house, I bet you invited all of your friends over, excited to show them.
You unlock the door and urge them all inside so you can show them
the kitchen or the tiles in the bathroom.”

That was almost exactly how it had happened. Nigel couldn’t

remember the exact words he’d spoken, but he’d definitely been eager
to get them through the front door. Similar scenes had played out
when each of his friends had purchased their own homes. They
weren’t exactly social butterflies, so they’d never been faced with the
situation involving a stranger.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“What if I can prove it to you?”
“How?” Nothing he’d seen so far proved anything. Cayson could

have just been toying with him, standing outside the door just to mess
with him.

“You can rescind my invitation, just like with any other

paranormal.”

That wasn’t going to prove anything. He could tell Cayson that he

wasn’t welcome inside any longer, and then the man would just turn
and walk out the door. For the time being, he’d play along, though.
“Fine. I rescind your invitation.”

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Quicker than his eyes could follow, Cayson was standing outside

on the porch again, breathing heavily as if he’d just sprinted a mile.
“See?”

No, he didn’t. “Okay, so you’re a vampire. That’s the only thing

that makes sense. I’ve been a cat shifter my whole life, Cayson. I’d
know if I couldn’t walk into someone’s house without them asking
me first.”

Sighing heavily, Cayson pushed his blond hair back from his face

and nodded slowly. “Okay, fine. Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” He wasn’t afraid of the man, but going

somewhere with a virtual stranger without telling anyone didn’t seem
like the smartest idea he’d ever had. Maybe he should be afraid of
Cayson. The man was obviously insane—or hiding the fact that he
was part vampire. Neither thought made him feel warm and fuzzy
inside.

“I’m going to take you to my place.” He eyed Nigel for a moment

and huffed. “If you’re afraid I’m going to hurt you, there’s no need
for it. Still, if it makes you feel better, call Dorian. Tell him where
you’re going.” Cayson pointed to the phone on the end table while he
rattled off an address in the neighboring town of Cumberland.

Nigel didn’t want to offend his mate, but then again, he didn’t

want to end up dead on the side of the road in Nowhere, Indiana,
either. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he exited his house,
locked the door behind him, and followed Cayson to his pickup while
he dialed.

“Hey, man,” Dorian answered on the second ring. “How did your

date with Mr. Tall, Blond, and Delicious go?”

Not wanting to alarm his friend. Nigel slapped a smile on his face

that he hoped would be evident in his voice. “It was great. We’re
actually on our way to his place now. He says it’s a little cabin-like
house off of State Road 44 in Cumberland.”

“Uh, that’s great.” There was a long pause, and Nigel just knew

that Dorian wasn’t buying his crap for a second. “Is there something

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wrong? Why are you telling me where he lives?” There was another
hesitation, and when he spoke again, Dorian sounded angry. “Do you
want to go there? Is he forcing you? Hang tight, man. I’m on my
way.”

“Dorian! No, it’s not like that. Calm down, please.” Bless him for

his willingness to play the white knight, but it really wasn’t necessary.
“Cayson is just trying to prove a point to me.”

“What point would that be?” Dorian growled, obviously still

pissed off about the situation.

Nigel closed his eyes and groaned. “Did you know that all

paranormals need an invitation into a private home? Not just
vampires. And it doesn’t even have to be a human home.”

The silence was practically deafening, and it took much longer for

Dorian to answer him this time. “That doesn’t make any sense, Nigel.
Are you sure he’s not part vampire? I’ve heard that some of them can
hide their scents.”

He’d never heard such a thing, and he thought Dorian might have

just been saying that to make him feel better. Except, it didn’t make
him feel better at all. It actually sent his anxiety a notch higher until
thoughts of bailing out of the moving vehicle sounded pretty damn
good. “Well, I guess we’ll find out, won’t we? I’ll call you later.”

“If you don’t call me in twenty minutes, I’m coming out there. I

mean it, Nigel.” Then he hung up without giving Nigel a chance to
argue.

“Is he always like that?” Cayson asked, not taking his eyes off the

road.

“Yeah, pretty much. Dorian is the biggest of us in human form, so

I guess he kind of feels like our protector.”

“It’s not just you then? He’s like this with everyone?”
Nigel shifted around in his seat so that he could see Cayson better.

The muscle in his square jaw twitched. His fingers gripped the
steering wheel so tightly, Nigel thought the damn thing was going to

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snap right off the steering column, and Cayson still wouldn’t look at
him—not even a glance.

He’d never encountered the particular emotion he was witnessing

in his mate, so it took him a full minute to name it. “You’re jealous.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cayson answered tightly.
“You are!” Nigel scrambled up to his knees in the seat, not an

easy task with the seat belt, but he managed it. “You’re jealous of
Dorian! Oh, my gods!”

“What am I supposed to think, Nigel? He’s always coming to your

rescue. He takes care of you. He knows a lot more about you than I
do. And…you look at him different.”

Nigel settled back on his heels and chewed his bottom lip while he

thought of what to say to make this right. Whatever he’d said back at
his house, he did trust Cayson, and he missed the man calling him by
that sweet pet name.

“I look at him like a brother, as someone I love. We’ve been

friends our entire lives practically. And no, it’s not just me, and it’s
not just our circle of friends. Dorian would help anyone who needed
it. That’s just the kind of person he is.”

Cayson deflated right before his eyes. The tense set of his

shoulders relaxed, and he let out a long breath, finally looking over at
him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such an ass. I did warn you I was
possessive, though.”

Offering the first real smile since the fiasco back on his front

porch, Nigel reached across the console and touched Cayson’s arm,
just a light brush of his fingertips. “You did warn me. I promise that
you have nothing to worry about, though. I’ve never had a mate
before, but I hear it’s serious business. I might be a cat shifter, but I’m
not the type to stray.”

The deep chuckle that rolled through Cayson’s chest at Nigel’s

lame attempt at a joke finally broke the tension between them, and the
remainder of the drive passed quickly. Signaling his turn, Cayson
pulled onto a long gravel drive right off of the state highway.

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“Oh, you weren’t kidding. It really does look like a cabin but way

more awesome.” Nigel leaned forward, peering through the
windshield in excitement. “It’s beautiful.”

He particularly loved the huge windows that bracketed the

doorway and the large, covered, wraparound porch. The cat in him
purred at the idea of lounging near those windows in the sun or
stretching out in the warm summer air on that wooden porch. There
wasn’t another house within a half a mile, either, which would give
Cayson optimum privacy. It was simply amazing as far as Nigel was
concerned.

Pulling to a stop on the side of the house, Cayson cut the engine

and opened his door. “Well, come on, and I’ll show you around.”

Excitement overriding any residual nervousness, Nigel flew out of

the pickup and darted up on the porch, bouncing excitedly while he
tried to take in everything at once. The two-person, padded swing
called to him, but it was much too cold for outdoor lounging.

Cayson chuckled as he bounded up the steps behind him. With a

gentle hand on his shoulder, he eased Nigel out of the way, unlocked
the door, and walked inside. Stopping just beyond the threshold, he
turned and crossed his arms, wearing a sexy little smirk on his lips.
“Well, give it a try.”

Rolling his eyes that they were still playing this game, Nigel

stepped forward to enter the house but was immediately met with
resistance. Lifting his hands in front of him, he pushed at the invisible
barrier, his mouth hanging open when he couldn’t penetrate it.
“What…”

“Nigel, please come in.”
Just like that, the barrier preventing him from entering dissolved,

vanishing as if it never existed, and Nigel stumbled forward into the
house. “How could I have not known that? Cayson, I should have
known this!”

“Easy, an—Nigel.” Cayson took his hand and pulled him into the

protectiveness of his embrace. “How could you know if you never

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had anyone tell you? It doesn’t make you stupid. You know now, and
that’s all that matters.”

“No, no, you don’t understand.” Nigel nuzzled against Cayson’s

chest, pushing closer to him. He’d crawl inside the man’s skin if that
was an option. “I invited Drew inside my home.”

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Chapter Four


“Nigel Alexander Durbin!”
Wincing at Cedric’s shrill tone, Nigel hunched down in his chair,

pretending to type away on his keyboard. He wasn’t sure what he’d
done wrong, but it had to be big if Cedric was using his full name.

“Don’t you hide from me.” Cedric sent his chair whirling around

so that Nigel faced him. “Where were you this weekend?”

“Uh, I had plans.”
“Plans?” Atticus appeared at Cedric’s side with his arms crossed

over his chest. “What kind of plans?”

“Just stuff. Drop it, will you?” It wasn’t that he was ashamed of

Cayson, but he’d only met his mate. He was feeling a little selfish,
wanting to keep the man all to himself for a bit longer.

“Fine, don’t tell us.” Cedric huffed, and his bottom lip slid out

into a pout. “If it has anything to do with that idiot boyfriend of yours,
I don’t want to know anyway.”

“Cayson is not an idiot.” Nigel defended his mate instantly, only

realizing his slipup after the words were out of his mouth.

“Who is Cayson?” Atticus’s eyes lit up, and he jumped up to sit

on Nigel’s desk. “Did you meet someone? What’s he like?”

“No one. Cayson is no one.” He swung back around to his desk

and shoved at Atticus’s hip. “I’ve been in the office for all of ten
minutes. Can we save the interrogation for later?” He reached for his
travel mug, but Atticus stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“What’s in the cup, Nigel?”
“Coffee.” He shook off Atticus’s hold and took a tentative sip of

the hot java. It had been a long weekend, and it had taken longer than

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he expected to rid the catnip from his system, but he was feeling
much better now. “Dorian told me what Drew was doing. You guys
don’t have to worry about it anymore, though. Drew is history.”

Cedric jerked him out of his chair and hugged him like his life

depended on it. “I’ll never complain about the amount of caffeine you
pollute your body with again. I’ll even buy the coffee shop for you.”

Chuckling as he embraced his friend, Nigel ruffled the hair on the

back of Cedric’s head and released him. “Thanks, but I’m good just
being a customer. Besides, I have to find a new place to get my coffee
now.”

Atticus hopped down off his desk and pulled him into a hug as

well. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Dorian said you figured it out, so thank you.” Nigel never wanted

to feel the way he had for the past couple of weeks—never again. He
should probably apologize for all the hateful shit he’d said to his
friends, but he couldn’t even remember most of it. There wasn’t really
a need, though. They were family, and family forgave each other for
being complete assholes on occasion.

“Congrats on finding your mate,” Atticus whispered in his ear

before pulling back so that he could wink at him. “Dorian has a big
mouth.”

“Do not!” Dorian argued, catching the tail end of their

conversation as he entered the building, shaking snow out of his hair.
“Crap, it’s coming down hard out there.”

Nigel glanced out the huge windows that had been used for

displays by the previous tenants and grimaced. It was beautiful, of
course. The big, fluffy snowflakes that covered the ground and made
everything almost glow always were. Trying to drive once there was a
foot of the stuff on the roadways was a bitch, though.

It had already gotten worse in the ten minutes since he’d arrived at

Fantasy Creations. It was only going to get worse, too. The news was
calling for nearly fourteen inches before the storm passed. “Maybe we
should close shop today.”

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“We’re already behind,” Atticus chastised him. He glanced out the

window as well and sighed. “We’ll make sure we’re out of here
before the roads get too bad, but we need to try and get some work
done.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute.” Cedric waved his hands around

wildly. “I want to hear more about this Cayson guy.”

Luckily, the phone chose that minute to ring, and Nigel snatched it

up like a lifeline. “Fantasy Creations. Custom toys made to order.
You dream it. We make it reality. This is Nigel. How can I help you
today?” He rolled his eyes as he finished. They really needed to come
up with a shorter greeting than the one Atticus had created for them.

“Hey, Nigel. Don’t say my name,” Atticus’s mate, Salem,

answered on the other end of the line. “I need a new toy.”

Biting his cheek to hide his smile, Nigel slid into his chair and

brought up an order form on his computer screen. “Absolutely, sir. I’d
be happy to help you with that. What name should I put this under?”

“Jacob Mason,” Salem answered with a chuckle. “You sound

better. I take it you’re off the catnip.”

“I’m very good today, Mr. Mason. Thank you for asking. How

about yourself?”

“That’s great, Nigel. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Okay, so this

toy…” And Salem was off and rolling on his newest creation
designed to torture Atticus in the most delicious ways.

It should have probably freaked Nigel out to know that much

about his friend’s sex life, but strangely, it didn’t. He was happy for
Atticus and Salem, glad something he could create would bring them
happiness together.

It took nearly forty minutes for him to get all the details right, but

he was quite impressed with Salem’s imagination. “I’ll get this started
right away. How soon do you need it?”

“By Atty’s birthday.”

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“Three weeks, then. Okay, I think I have all the information I

need. I’ll call and let you know when it’s completed. Thank you for
calling Fantasy Creations.”

“Thanks, Nigel. The number I gave you is to the club, but just call

my cell phone when it’s ready. Do you have that number?”

“Yes, we’re all squared away. Have a good day, Mr. Mason.”
“Mr. Mason, my ass.” Atticus snorted from behind him as he

leaned over Nigel’s shoulder to read the order form. “That was Salem,
wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nigel answered calmly.

“That was Jacob Mason.”

“Bullshit,” Atticus replied around his laughter. “Those are all my

measurements, and he wants it in three weeks—which just happens to
be my birthday. Plus”—He tapped at the phone number on the
screen—“that’s the number to Darkness Falls. I’m not stupid, Nigel.”

No, Atticus was anything but stupid. Still, Nigel wasn’t about to

give away the secret. “Just all coincidence, I guess. Maybe it’s one of
his bartenders or something. We’ve been getting a lot of business
from his contacts since your mating ceremony.”

Atticus frowned and rubbed at his chin. “Yeah, I guess you’re

right.” Then he shrugged and shuffled away. “We’ll close up at
lunchtime. If you can take work home with you, do it, because there’s
a good chance that we won’t be coming in tomorrow unless the snow
lets up.”

That’s exactly what they did, too. Nigel couldn’t remember the

last time he’d worked so hard. Maybe it was because he was trying to
cram an entire workday into a few hours. Whatever it was, by the time
noon rolled around, he was exhausted and ready to get the hell out of
there.

Grabbing his sketch pad, some scrap materials to work with, and a

measuring tape, Nigel said good-bye to his friends and climbed into
his vehicle. The storm hadn’t let up in the least. If anything, the snow

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was falling even harder, thicker. He guessed there was already four
inches piled up on the roadways.

His Chevy Cavalier got great gas mileage, but it wasn’t ideal for

navigating the slippery roads. Still, it was just three miles to his
house. He could make it that far. Hopefully.

* * * *


Groaning as he came awake from a deep sleep, Cayson fumbled

around on the nightstand for his cell phone. With his eyes still closed,
he flopped back on his pillow and connected the call. “What?”

“Cayson?”
The soft, worried voice on the other end of the line had him awake

and alert instantly. “Nigel? Angel, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“Umm, it’s kind of embarrassing actually, but I kind of need your

help.”

Though he was worried about what trouble his mate had gotten

himself into, Cayson couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Nigel had
called him first, called him when he needed help. “No need to be
embarrassed. Just tell me what happened.” Obviously the man wasn’t
hurt or he wouldn’t have been able to call.

“I should have just gone straight home, but I wanted to see you. I

made it just past the feed store, and my car slid off the road. Now it
won’t start, and the roads are just getting worse.”

“Are you hurt?” Cayson was already out of bed and pulling his

clothes on.

“No, no, I’m fine. I just need a ride, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“You’re never too much trouble. Stay inside the car and lock the

doors. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Thank you, Cayson.”
“Yep.” With that, he hung up, shoved his feet in his boots, and

grabbed his pickup keys from the kitchen counter. Even if it wasn’t

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the ideal situation, he couldn’t contain his excitement at seeing Nigel
again.

He’d ended up working a double, so he hadn’t been able to spend

Saturday with his mate. Once he’d finally stumbled home, all he’d
wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. That meant that he’d been
in no condition to take Nigel to that club so they could see their first
witch.

They’d spoken briefly over the phone the day before, but once

again, Cayson had been called away for business. It was as if the
cosmos were fighting against them being together. Nigel being stuck
on the side of the road while trying to come see him just furthered his
belief of that.

Just because he hadn’t been able to see his mate all weekend

didn’t mean he hadn’t thought of the little shifter. Though worry
might have been a more appropriate description. Once he’d found out
that fucker, Drew, had access to Nigel’s house, he’d been able to
think of little else.

Nigel could rescind the invitation, of course, but it only worked if

Drew was already inside the house. He couldn’t just call him up and
tell him to fuck off. Whatever magic ruled their world made
absolutely no sense to him, but it was the way of their kind.

Damn, Nigel hadn’t been kidding. The roads were a complete

mess, and the snow was falling so fast that his wipers were having
trouble clearing the flakes away from the windshield. Luckily, he
didn’t have to travel too far, and the four-wheel drive helped to propel
his truck through the snow.

He only had to drive a couple of miles before he spotted the green

Chevy on the side of the road. Waving as he passed his mate, he had
to continue on for another quarter of a mile before he came to the first
highway crossing where he could turn around.

By the time he made it back to where Nigel waited for him, the

smaller man was standing by the back end of the car, clutching a
notebook and what looked to be strips of leather to his chest. The

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minute he pulled to a stop, Nigel hurried to the passenger door,
wrenched it open, and jumped inside the cab.

“Oh, gods, thank you so much for coming. I thought I was going

to be stuck here all day.”

“Hey,” Cayson breathed, more excited than he was willing to

admit at finally having the man with him once again. “Come here,
you.”

Nigel smiled shyly but pushed up so that he could lean over the

console and press his lips to Cayson’s in a brief but tingling kiss. He
pulled away much too soon for Cayson’s liking, ducking his head as if
embarrassed by his boldness. Well, they couldn’t have that, could
they?

“Your lips are cold.” Looping his fingers in the collar of Nigel’s

shirt, Cayson pulled back. “Let me warm them up for you.”

The kiss started the same as all of the others—sweet, chaste, their

mouths barely moving together. That tingle that always zinged across
his lips when they touched spread throughout Cayson’s entire body,
lighting him on fire and making his skin burn with suppressed
passion.

Holding Nigel still with both hands on his face, Cayson tickled the

seam of his mate’s lips with his tongue, coaxing Nigel to open and let
him in. It took a couple of gentle urges, but finally, Nigel gasped, his
lips parted, and Cayson thrust his tongue inside to explore every inch
of that delectable mouth.

Nigel moaned softly, sweetly, and leaned into him, melting

against him as he allowed Cayson to take over and control the kiss.
Cayson’s Doberman liked that very much. There wasn’t much they
could do in such a confined space, though. Besides, Cayson refused to
have Nigel’s first time be in a pickup on the side of the road like he
was some kind of cheap tramp.

It took a great deal of willpower to pull away after that first taste,

but he managed to do it. “I’m glad you called me, angel. I’ve been
missing you.”

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“I’ve missed you, too,” Nigel confessed. “Does that seem weird

since we just met?”

“I don’t think so.” Putting the transmission into drive and pulling

back onto the highway, Cayson grinned as he concentrated on the
road. “Even humans believe in soul mates. You hear them all the time
talking about how they just knew when they met The One. Hell, they
even make tons of shitty movies about it every year.”

Uninhibited laughter erupted from Nigel, and he flopped back in

his seat as he clutched at his sides. “You are so right about that. Some
of those movies are so horrible it hurts to watch them.”

“A movie just isn’t worth watching unless there’s an explosion in

it.”

“Here, here!”
Cayson was a bit surprised that Nigel liked action flicks, but he

did enjoy the fact that it was something they had in common. “We’re
probably going to be stuck inside for the next twenty-four hours at
least. Want to make it a movie day?”

Nigel shivered, a sexy little shake of his shoulders, and let out an

almost inaudible whimper. “That sounds great.”

If his gorgeous mate kept making those noises that tested his self-

control, it was going to be a very, very long day.

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Chapter Five


He didn’t know what had possessed him to try and drive all the

way out to Cumberland in a snow storm, but Nigel was glad he had.
Ever since they’d parted Friday night, he’d been feeling strange,
almost hollow, like a part of him was missing.

Damn, it didn’t make any sense. All he knew was that once he’d

slid into that truck and seen Cayson again, that feeling had
disappeared. That type of attachment after such a short time wasn’t
healthy. Intellectually, he knew that. Knowing it didn’t change the
way he felt, though.

“I haven’t done this in years.”
“Done what?” Nigel asked as he took the mug of coffee Cayson

handed to him.

“Spent a day on the couch, watching movies and just being lazy.”

He took a sip from his own cup and grinned. “You might even have to
stay the night.”

Nigel almost choked on his next sip as the implications of that

statement hit him like a sledgehammer. Would he sleep in Cayson’s
bed? Would he sleep on the couch? Would Cayson be offended if he
slept on the couch? Oh, hell, he couldn’t breathe.

The room felt suffocating, the air too warm. The walls seemed to

close in on him, moving closer, boxing him in. Why did he have to be
so bad at this? It was the ultimate act of nature. People had sex every
day. Nigel had even heard that they enjoyed it. Atticus certainly
seemed to.

Atticus! He could call his friend. Atty would know what to do. “I

need to use the phone,” he said abruptly, popping up off the couch

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and shoving his coffee mug into Cayson’s hands as he raced down the
hall to the bathroom.

Once inside, he slammed the door behind him, locked it, and

leaned his back against it as he slid down to the floor. Sucking in air
through his mouth, he just focused on breathing until his head stopped
spinning and he no longer felt like he was going to vomit.

Then he started to laugh. It sounded slightly hysterical, even to his

own ears, but the harder he fought to stifle it, the harder he laughed.
Poor Cayson. The man had looked confused and maybe even startled
at Nigel’s abrupt departure. He was probably starting to reconsider
just how much trouble Nigel really was.

Once he got himself under control, he pulled his cell phone out of

his pocket and punched in Atticus’s number. It suddenly occurred to
him that his friend had even farther to drive, all the way out to
Knightstown.

“Hello?”
“Hey, Atty. I just wanted to make sure that you made it home

safely. The roads are horrible.”

“Oh, I just went to my old house and had Edmond send one of the

daywalkers to come get me.” There was an amused smirk in his voice.
“It’s a good thing he likes me.”

“Who’s Edmond?” It was possible that he’d already heard this

information, but he couldn’t remember.

“Our butler, though I like to think of him more as a family

member who takes care of us. He enjoys it, and I adore him, so it
works out I suppose. I’m still not completely comfortable with this
lifestyle, but I’m learning to adjust.”

“I’m sure there are perks.” Honestly, he’d always pictured Atticus

living in a big house with people to wait on him hand and foot. If any
of them deserved that kind of life, it was Atty. “So, you’re home with
Salem now?” The normality of the conversation was calming him,
and he needed his friend to keep talking.

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“I just got home and was about to call you, actually. Was that your

car I saw on the side of the road?”

“Yeah, but I’m fine. Cayson came and rescued me.”
“Nigel, where are you? Why does it sound like there’s an echo?”
“Uh, I kind of locked myself in the bathroom,” Nigel confessed

and rolled his eyes at himself. Cayson probably thought he was
completely insane, and he might not be far off the mark. Nigel
certainly felt like he was falling apart.

“What? Why? Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Salem!”
“No, no! He didn’t do anything. Atty, calm down.” He loved his

friends more than anything, but all of this overprotectiveness was
beginning to wear on him. The last thing he needed was King Salem
Constantine involved in his love life—or lack thereof—whatever.

“No, love,” Atticus said, his voice muffled as if he was holding

the phone away from his mouth. “It’s okay. I overreacted. Go back to
sleep.” Then he was back, his voice clear and crisp over the line.
“Okay, so tell me why you’re locked in the bathroom.”

“I’m going to have to stay here tonight.”
“Yeah, that would probably be for the best. Are you planning to

sleep in the bathroom?”

Nigel snorted, loving Atticus even more for injecting some humor

into his predicament. “No, but that’s just it. Where do I sleep? Will he
be pissed if I sleep on the couch? What if I sleep in bed with him and
he wants to have sex?”

“Nigel, honey, you can do whatever you want to do. There are no

rules. There’s not a timeline. If you aren’t ready for a physical
relationship, you just tell him that. If he’s as great as you say he is,
he’ll understand.”

“What…what if I want to sleep with him?” His heart started to

pound again. His hands shook and felt clammy. Was he really
considering this?

“It’s scary,” Atticus said, barely louder than a whisper. “I was so

nervous, and I felt like I kept screwing it up my first time with Salem.

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He was so patient, though. If this is what you really want, let Cayson
lead you. I’m not saying you have to let him take over completely, but
he’s more experienced. Let him teach you.”

“What if he thinks I’m a total spaz? What if I’m no good at it?”

Good grief, he’d never even had an orgasm. It was only rarely that he
could get an erection. “What if there’s something wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. He won’t think you’re a spaz.”

Atticus paused in his pep talk, and there was a rustling sound, as if the
phone was moving.

“Nigel?”
Closing his eyes, Nigel chomped down on his tongue to keep from

groaning. “Hi, Salem.”

“Shut up and stop thinking so much. I’m going to let you in on a

little secret. You ready?”

“Uh, I guess so.”
“Get naked and be willing. That’s it. As long as you want to be

there, I guarantee there isn’t anything you can do wrong.”

Surprisingly, the strange advice went a long way in boosting his

courage and draining his anxiety. “Got it. Thank you, Salem.”

“Give me the phone, you idiot,” Atticus snapped before coming

back over the line. “Sorry about that. Just ignore him.”

“No, he’s right. I think I’m okay now. I’m going to go talk to

Cayson.”

“Okay, Nigel. Call me if you need me. Good luck with your

mate.”

They said their good-byes, and Nigel shoved his phone back into

his pocket, took a deep breath, and pushed to his feet. He could do
this. Never in his life had he been attracted to someone like he was to
Cayson, and he wasn’t going to let something as silly as nerves stop
him from getting what he wanted.

Maybe he wasn’t naturally bold or forward, but he could reinvent

himself into whatever he wanted to be. If he could design the kinkiest
sex toys out there, he could definitely redesign himself. It might take

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a little trial and error—just like with his work—but he could learn to
be kinky and seductive.

* * * *


After watching Nigel practically sprint out of the room like the

hounds of hell were nipping at his ass, Cayson had briefly thought of
going after him. He wasn’t sure what he’d said or done, but it
obviously hadn’t gone over well with his mate.

In the end, he’d just flopped down on the sofa and stared blankly

at the television. Nigel might be the virgin when it came to sex, but
Cayson was just as inexperienced with relationships. He’d spent most
of his adult life avoiding personal ties with people. A night of hot,
sweaty sex was all well and good, but anything beyond that left him
feeling like a caged animal.

Surprisingly, Nigel didn’t make him feel like that at all. The

whole weekend they’d spent apart had been a lesson in yearning.
Never had he thought about a lover once they left his bed, and he
hadn’t even been intimate with Nigel yet!

He’d blame it all on the connection they had because of their

mating bond, but he’d just be fooling himself. There was something
genuinely compelling about Nigel Durbin, something that was sweet,
innocent, and refreshing.

His shyness, while adorable, was also oddly endearing. He wasn’t

fake like most people. Cayson knew his mate was nervous, became
embarrassed easily, but he never tried to hide his awkwardness behind
some stupid façade. Nigel was open, honest in his reactions,
and…real. Cayson respected the hell out of “real.”

“Sorry about that,” Nigel said brightly as he entered the room and

settled down on the sofa next to Cayson. “So, what are we watching?”

The complete one-eighty in his demeanor was a little

disconcerting, but Cayson decided to go with it. “What did you have
in mind? I have a ton of Bruce Willis movies.”

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“Sounds great. Are you hungry? I could make us a snack while

you get the movie started.”

“I could eat.” On second thought, maybe he should find out what

was happening with his little mate. The man was acting strange,
which wasn’t unusual, but it was a different kind of weird. This
bubbliness seemed forced and made him a little uncomfortable.

“Cool. I’ll see what you’ve got in the kitchen.”
Cool? Cayson frowned. Next, Nigel was going to start scratching

his balls and belching the alphabet. Had he undergone a personality
transplant while in the restroom?

“Or,” Nigel purred seductively, pulling his knees under him and

pushing up against Cayson’s side, “we could make a meal of each
other.” His slender fingers skimmed down the center of Cayson’s
chest, right to his waistband. “What do you say?”

Nigel leaned closer, his warm breath fanning over the side of

Cayson’s neck just before a slippery tongue ran along the curve of his
throat. Nimble fingers had his jeans undone in no time, and a warm
hand dipped into his underwear.

He’d be a fool to stop this, but something wasn’t right. This

wasn’t Nigel. Besides, he was breathing too shallowly, his heart was
beating too fast, and his hands were shaking so violently Cayson felt
like he was being groped by a paint shaker.

Grabbing both of his wrists to still his wandering hands, Cayson

eased his mate back from him so that he could look into his eyes.
“Angel, stop. You’re about to vibrate right out of your skin. Talk to
me.”

“Don’t want to talk.” Nigel removed his hands from Cayson’s grip

and pulled his shirt off over his head. Then he went to work on the
button of his jeans, but Cayson stopped him again.

“Nigel, stop it. I’m not going to fuck you over the arm of the

couch like some back-alley hooker I picked up on a street corner.”

Deflating instantly, Nigel’s shoulders sagged, and he pulled his

shirt back on before curling in on himself, looking very small and

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fragile all of the sudden. “I’m sorry, Cayson. Atty said to let you take
the lead, and Salem said to just be naked and willing. And then one of
them told me to actively participate, though I can’t remember which it
was. I’m trying, but I guess I’m just not cut out for this stuff.”

“You’re trying too hard, angel.” Cayson held his arms open,

beckoning his mate to him. To his relief, Nigel hesitated only briefly
before scrambling into his lap and resting his head on Cayson’s
shoulder. “Stop listening to everyone else, and just be you. Do what
feels right for you.”

“I thought if I pretended hard enough that I wasn’t nervous or

afraid then I…well, I just wouldn’t be. Or maybe I could at least get
through the first time, and after that it wouldn’t be such a big deal.
Guess I kind of fucked that up, huh?”

Cayson could imagine that it was probably embarrassing, not to

mention a little emasculating, for Nigel to admit that he was nervous
about his first time. Most men would see that as a weakness. Only
girls worried about those kinds of things, right?

Bullshit. Just because men rarely admitted it didn’t mean that they

hadn’t all been right there in Nigel’s shoes at one time. The way he
saw it, there was a lot more honor in admitting to fear than trying to
hide behind some macho charade. That kind of crap usually ended up
backfiring anyway.

“Have I given you any indication that I’m not perfectly happy just

sitting here and cuddling with you?”

“No,” Nigel whispered.
“Do you think all I want from you is a little slap and tickle?”
“No,” he repeated, even quieter than that last time.
“Yes, I think you are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Yes, I

grow rock hard at the thought of finally seeing you naked and having
you underneath me, moaning and calling my name. We have time for
those things, though. I’m not going to bail just because you need a
little more of it than I do.”

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Nigel shook his head and buried his face in Cayson’s neck. “I

don’t need time. I just need you to tell me what to do.”

On some level, Cayson knew it would fall to him to take control

and lead them down that path. As the older and more experienced
one, it was his job to introduce his mate to all the joys and wonders of
a physically intimate relationship without overwhelming him. It was a
lot of responsibility that came with the risk of failure.

Only Nigel knew if he was ready to take that step, though. Cayson

couldn’t decide for him. While his throbbing cock was definitely in
favor of taking Nigel under his tutelage, his conscience was growling
at him to slow down, to give his mate more time to decide.

“Are you sure, angel?”
Taking one of Cayson’s hands, Nigel placed it over his zipper,

pressing lightly so that Cayson could feel the straining erection
beneath his palm, rock hard and begging for freedom. “I’m sure.
Please, Cayson, just tell me what you want me to do. Tell me where to
start.”

Cupping the side of Nigel’s neck, Cayson leaned back, pausing

when their lips were barely a breath apart. “Let me show you.”

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Chapter Six


Their mouths crashed together in a fiery passion that made Nigel’s

head spin and his heart thunder violently inside his chest. Cayson
wasn’t gentle, hesitant, or coaxing, either. He simply took what he
wanted, demanding Nigel’s submission, which he was all too willing
to give.

“Kiss me back,” Cayson growled before slanting their mouths

together again.

Well, hell, he wished the man would make up his mind. Was he

supposed to kiss back or surrender to Cayson’s desires? How much
tongue did he use? What if he slobbered on the guy? This sort of thing
really should come with a step-by-step manual.

“You’re overthinking it,” Cayson informed him, much less growly

this time. “Stop worrying so much and let your body take control.” He
dipped his tongue inside Nigel’s mouth again, flicking it lazily.
“Move with me, angel.”

Pushing all of his insecurities and self-doubts to the back of his

mind, Nigel looped his arms around his mate’s neck and moved his
tongue in tandem to Cayson’s. Twisting, swirling, gliding together in
a sensual duel, their tongues met and separated only to meet once
again.

Their lips pillowed together, his mouth opening and closing just

slightly as he fell into the rhythm designed especially for lovers. Of
their own accord, without conscious command from him, his hips
began to rock, just a soft sway at first. As the kiss deepened, became
more primal and desperate, so did the movements of his body. Before

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he knew it, he was humping against Cayson’s midsection, grinding
his hard cock over the man’s rippled abs.

The friction was amazing, unlike anything he’d ever felt. The

flames that engulfed his body moved south, converging in his lower
belly, where they grew in intensity. More, more, harder, faster, more,
please.
His thoughts were a chaotic mess, the top of his head felt like
it was going to pop off, and there was an aching pressure building in
his sac that alarmed him.

Yanking his mouth away from Cayson’s, he panted heavily as he

stared into his mate’s eyes, frantically trying to find answers in the
deep pools of midnight blue. “What’s happening to me? I feel like I’m
on fire. I…I need…I can’t…”

“Easy, angel,” Cayson cooed to him. “I’ve got you.”
With agile fingers, he flipped the button on Nigel’s jeans and

lowered his zipper in one fluid motion, palming his dripping cock in
under a second. “Let go, baby. Just let go and fall. I promise I’ll catch
you.” One hard stroke from the base of his dick to the sensitive crown
was all it took for Nigel to erupt like a fucking geyser.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouted, squeezing his eyes closed and digging his

fingers into his mate’s shoulders as rope after rope of thick, pearly
cum erupted from his slit, painting Cayson’s shirt like an artist’s
canvas. Had he known an orgasm would feel like that, he’d have tried
it a long damn time ago. His entire body felt boneless, depleted, and
utterly relaxed.

“Feeling better?” Cayson kissed the side of his neck while he

nuzzled against him affectionately.

“Can we do that again?”
Cayson chuckled warmly, and his breath stuttered over Nigel’s

overheated flesh. “Oh, I intend to as soon as you give me the green
light.”

A hand job was one thing, but was he ready for more? His cock

was still hard, jumping with each beat of his heart, silently screaming

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at him to say whatever needed saying to keep the pleasure going. Oh,
yeah, he definitely wanted more. “Green.”

The word was barely out of his mouth before Cayson had him

flung over one shoulder and was sprinting him down the hallway. It
was a heady thing to know he was wanted so much by a man as drool
worthy as Cayson Downs. Maybe it was just the mating bond
attracting him to Nigel. That would make so much more sense.

Really, what did he have to offer? He was too skinny, bordering

on scrawny. His hair was a plain, boring brown and needed a cut. He
dressed simply, socialized little, and everything about him was
forgettable. Hell, he’d been surprised that Cayson even knew who he
was when he’d called from the side of the road.

Sometime during his inner self-berating, they’d apparently arrived

in Cayson’s bedroom. Nigel wiggled around, trying to get off the
man’s shoulder, but his mate grabbed him around the hips and tossed
him to the center of the king-size mattress, where he was quickly
divested of his jeans and boxers.

Cayson reached for the hem of his shirt, but Nigel beat him to it,

holding the soft cotton in place and shaking his head quickly. “Not the
shirt.”

He realized he’d have to be at least partially naked if this was

going to go anywhere. Seeing disappointment in Cayson’s eyes when
he realized just how underwhelming Nigel’s body really was made
him want to crawl under the bed and hide, though.

“Are you cold?”
No, but if the little fib meant he’d get to keep his shirt on, he’d

play along. “Yeah, a little.”

“We’ll have to do something about that,” Cayson teased in a

seductive murmur as he began to disrobe. “Crawl under the blankets,
angel.”

Happy to shield even more of his body from Cayson’s view, Nigel

flipped over eagerly, pulled back the beige comforter and black
sheets, and dove beneath them. By the time he looked up again,

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Cayson was completely nude, standing at the foot of the bed like
some Greek sex god come to life.

Nigel doubted there was a single ounce of fat under his smooth,

tanned skin. From the corded muscles in his neck down to his bulging
and defined calves, he was a study in perfection. Long, thick, and
glistening with pre-cum at the tip, his hard cock jutted proudly from
his groin, surrounded at the base by only a light smattering of blond
curls.

It was a cheesy and clichéd line, but Nigel definitely wasn’t

worthy. There had to be a mistake. Maybe fate had gotten her wires
crossed or something. People who looked like Cayson definitely
didn’t belong with people like Nigel.

“Don’t be nervous,” Cayson said quietly as he rounded the bed

and pulled out the single drawer on the nightstand. He extracted a
clear bottle of lube and sat it casually to the side. “You know that we
can’t transmit diseases.”

“I’m not stupid,” Nigel snapped, his loathing of his own body

making him short-tempered.

Cayson didn’t comment on his outburst, didn’t even make a face

at him. He simply closed the drawer, pulled back the corner of the
covers, and slid into bed beside Nigel. “Come here.” His fingers
gripped Nigel’s hip, tugging him forward, giving him little choice but
to obey the summons.

His mate’s hard cock nudged against his hip, making his skin

slippery with pre-cum. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. “It’s okay,
angel. Just do what feels right.”

How the hell was he supposed to trust what he felt? His instincts

had never been very good. Drew was proof of that. Deciding it was
bad form to be thinking of his ex while in bed with his mate, Nigel
shut that thought down quickly and focused on the feel of Cayson’s
lips against jawline.

Cayson’s hand still rested on his hip, his fingers kneading the

flesh there as he encouraged Nigel to move against him. Soft, moist

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lips skimmed down his neck and back up, ending in the hollow just
behind his earlobe.

Shivering with renewed pleasure and need, Nigel placed a

trembling hand on Cayson’s chest, groaning at how warm his skin
felt. With his eyes closed, he mapped every muscle on Cayson’s
torso, each dip, valley, and hill. His fingertips walked over the hard
bricks of his abs, skimmed the grooves between each. That’s as far
south as he went, though, unsure of what to do next.

The choice was made for him when Cayson took his hand and

guided it to his heated shaft, manipulating his fingers so that they
surrounded the swollen length. Nigel squeezed more by reflex than
intention, enamored with the way the flesh pulsed inside his grasp.

A long, tortured groan spilled from Cayson’s lips, vibrating his

chest and giving Nigel the courage to continue his exploration. He
stroked slowly at first, then harder and faster when Cayson’s moans
and shudders gave him more confidence. With the pad of his thumb,
he rubbed over the tip of the spongy crown, smearing the pre-cum that
leaked from the slit.

So lost in his own endeavors—namely to continue hearing those

sexy sounds from his lover—Nigel didn’t realize his hands weren’t
the only ones playing. Cayson caressed his thigh, his hip, and dipped
under the hem of his shirt to press his palm flat against the expanse of
Nigel’s stomach.

Nigel stilled, his muscles tensed, and he almost pulled away, but

as always, Cayson wouldn’t let him. “Don’t stop, angel. Your hand
feels so good.” He worked the fabric farther up Nigel’s torso, still
touching him, stroking him.

“Cayson, stop.”
“What’s wrong?” He pulled his hand away instantly and looked at

Nigel in concern. “Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“Not stop everything, just…not the shirt, okay?” Nigel felt

completely ridiculous having such a conversation while he still had
Cayson’s dick in his hand.

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“No,” Cayson responded, surprising him. “You’re not going to

hide from me.”

He rolled Nigel to his back, leaving him no choice but to release

his new favorite toy. Then he insinuated himself between Nigel’s
thighs, stretching out on his stomach so that his feet hung off the end
of the bed. With gentle care, he pushed Nigel’s shirt up to his belly
button and kissed the skin there. Then he went another inch, delivered
another kiss, again and again, until he had the cotton all the way up to
Nigel’s chin.

Cayson slipped the material over his head, stripped it off his arms,

and tossed it over the side of the bed. “You are beautiful.” His tongue
swirled around one of Nigel’s nipples before sucking the hardened
bud into his mouth and biting it lightly between his teeth. “Every inch
of you is mouthwatering and makes me hard enough to cut
diamonds.”

The man was lying through his teeth, but Nigel was too busy

trying to not come again to argue with him. He gritted his teeth
together and arched his neck as he clutched at the sheets and
shuddered each time Cayson sucked on his nipple. His cock rubbed
against his mate’s chest, sliding over the muscles and driving him out
of his mind with the need to climax.

“Say it, angel. I want to hear you say it.”
Nigel didn’t even know what they were talking about anymore.

What was he supposed to say? “Uh…”

“Say you’re perfect just how you are.”
Nigel didn’t miss the snick of the bottle cap that punctuated that

request. When did Cayson even get the lube? When a slick digit
slipped between his butt cheeks and rubbed at his rim, Nigel decided
it didn’t matter.

His entire body tensed, his muscles locked down, and his hole

clenched tight in silent denial of what was coming. Cayson didn’t
seem to be surprised or deterred by his reaction, though. He simply
continued to ring his rosette with steady, gentle pressure.

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The last thought made him giggle. “Ring around the rosy,” he said

through his amusement. That statement just made him think of the
crazy-ass toy they’d created for Salem a couple of months ago, which
then sent him into more peals of laughter.

Instead of asking what his problem was, Cayson dropped his head,

engulfing the head of Nigel’s cock into his moist mouth and
effectively shutting him up. His tongue licked around the crown,
paying special attention to the little bundle of nerves on the underside.

Nigel’s eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth fell open, but

no sound emitted through his swollen lips. Oh, sweet mercy, how had
he ever gone without experiencing this? The hard suction on his cock
and the plump lips dragging up and down his shaft felt indescribable,
a pleasure beyond words.

No way could it get any better.
Then he felt the guarding muscles of his hole give way as Cayson

slowly inserted one thick finger. “Cayson!” He was going to come
again. His orgasm had become a living, breathing thing inside him,
taking control of his body while demanding he obey the siren’s call of
sublime release.

Apparently anticipating this, Cayson gently tugged on his sac,

drawing his balls away from his body. Then his thumb and forefinger
circled Nigel’s cock at the base and squeezed tight, forestalling any
plans he had of orgasm. Cayson’s finger pushed deeper into his
channel, pausing for just a moment before he began pumping it in the
same rhythm he used to worship Nigel’s dick.

His mind floated somewhere above his body, and Nigel barely

noticed when his mate added a second finger. The third digit burned,
but the pain passed quickly, leaving only a deep ache that he feared
would never be soothed.

Whipping his head back and forth on the pillow, Nigel babbled

incoherently, begging for more, pleading with Cayson to push him
over the edge. When that glorious mouth popped off his length and

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Cayson’s fingers slid from his hole, Nigel cried out in protest,
practically sobbing with the need to come. “Please, oh, fucking hell.”

Cayson chuckled, the sound warm and sexy, sending a shiver of

delight up Nigel’s spine. “Patience, angel.” Positioning himself on his
knees, Cayson pushed at the back of Nigel’s thighs, urging his knees
back toward his chest and opening him wide.

The nerves returned in full force, and Nigel suddenly felt very

vulnerable being on display the way he was. The blunt tip of his
lover’s cock pressed at his hole, and Cayson looked into his eyes,
obviously waiting for permission.

“Wait!”
Immediately, Cayson backed off and just rubbed his palms up and

down the outsides of Nigel’s thighs. “We can stop any time.”

“No, no, I’m fine. Go ahead.” He sucked in a deep breath and

tried to relax his muscles. Cayson repositioned himself, and that same
pressure pushed at Nigel’s entrance, causing him to tense. “Wait!”

Cayson moved away again, but a little sigh escaped him this time.

“Nigel, we don’t have to do this.”

“I want this. I’m okay. Just go slow.”
His mate looked a bit skeptical, but he gripped his hard length and

lined up with Nigel’s entrance once more. When Nigel didn’t stop
him this time, Cayson flexed his hips, pushing at the guarding
muscles of Nigel’s hole until they finally yielded to him, allowing
him entrance.

Nigel gasped, the pressure intense and overwhelming. Cayson’s

sexy growl was well worth any discomfort, though. Inch by inch, his
lover fed his thick shaft to Nigel’s ass until at last their damp flesh
pressed together, connecting them as closely as two people could be.
Though it was obviously putting strain on him, Cayson held perfectly
still, giving Nigel the time he needed to adjust to the invasion.

It wasn’t getting any better, though. “Just move.”
There was concern in his eyes, but Cayson obeyed, pulling out

halfway and pushing back in. He did it once more, extracting a bit

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more of his length. On the third outward stroke, he kept going until
only the flared helmet of his dick remained, paused briefly, and then
thrust back inside, straining Nigel’s inner walls to maximum capacity.

By the time he had built up steady momentum, the burn had

disappeared, and the fullness was something Nigel craved. His cock
sprang back to life so quickly that it left him dizzy, pulsing between
his thighs and leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. “Harder,” he
urged, grabbing his knees to hold his legs in place as they started to
shake.

Dropping over him and bracing himself on one hand, Cayson

palmed Nigel’s prick and stroked him fast from root to tip. His eyes
flashed with a primal fire, and more growls rolled up from his chest
and through his lips. “Never felt like this,” he panted, snapping his
hips at a demanding tempo as he drove into Nigel’s body. “So tight,
so fucking hot. Can’t last.”

“Yes!” Nigel jerked beneath his lover, arching up to meet his

thrusts. “Make you come. I mean, me. Me come, make you, now!” He
had no idea what he was saying. His brain wouldn’t function properly,
and his lips refused to remain firmly pressed together.

Cayson’s hand twisted around his shaft, and his thumb dipped into

Nigel’s slit at the same moment his cock plunged deep inside Nigel’s
passage. Bursts of light flashed before his eyes, his body went ramrod
straight, and he yelled out his lover’s name as a river of semen burst
from his cock to fill the minimal space between them.

He felt more than heard Cayson’s groan of completion. Fiery

wetness splashed against his inner walls, filling his depths to the brim.
It was a strange feeling—being claimed from the inside out—but not
unpleasant.

Wrapping both his arms and legs around his mate, Nigel clung to

him, peppering kisses all over the side of his face and down his neck.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Oh, he wanted to do that again…and
again…and again.

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“Thank you for trusting me to be your first. I didn’t hurt you, did

I? I got a little rough there at the end.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” At that moment, Nigel felt invincible,

like there wasn’t anything in the world he couldn’t face. “I probably
need a shower, though.”

“Shower and then lunch. I’m starving, and I bet you are, too. I’ll

even open a can of tuna for you,” Cayson teased.

“Shower, food, and then a nap,” Nigel amended. He was so tired

all of the sudden. He could probably sleep straight through until
morning.

“Deal.” Cayson kissed his temple and rolled off the edge of the

bed.

Nigel’s eyelids drifted closed, and he smiled happily. “I’ll even

open a can of puppy chow.”

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Chapter Seven


“We’ll call a tow service and have your car brought here.” Cayson

reached into the shower and turned on the spray to allow the water to
warm while he spoke with his mate. “I’ll take a look at it and see if
we can’t get it up and running again.”

Nigel leaned against the doorjamb and smiled. “Thank you. I’d

appreciate if you could get it fixed up enough for me to trade it in.
This isn’t the first time it’s left me stranded. I think it’s about time for
a new vehicle.”

“I agree.” Cayson was glad that Nigel had said it, though. He

didn’t like the idea of his mate driving around something so
unreliable, but he also didn’t want to come off as overbearing. The
last twenty-four hours had been amazing, and he didn’t want to do
anything to fuck it up.

Having Nigel share his bed during the night, waking up to his

sweet face, gave Cayson a sense of serenity that he hadn’t felt in a
long time. If harnessing his domineering nature was the price he had
to pay to keep Nigel in his life, he was more than willing to pay it.

“The roads are probably cleared by now. Do you think you’ll have

to work tomorrow?” Cayson stepped beneath the warm spray, leaving
the shower curtain open in silent invitation for Nigel to join him.

With a nervous half smile, Nigel wrapped his arms around his

midsection and stayed exactly where he was. It really wasn’t
surprising. Though he’d seen, touched, and tasted every inch of
Nigel’s skin, the man still had body-image issues. Cayson didn’t
know who had drilled it into his head that he was anything but
stunning, but he’d like to find them and beat them bloody.

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“Atty called earlier this afternoon. The office will be opened

bright and early at nine o’clock tomorrow,” Nigel replied.

Acting as though he hadn’t noticed anything amiss and had simply

been waiting for a response, Cayson casually pulled the curtain
closed. Increasing the volume of his voice to be heard over the thrum
of water hitting the bottom of the tub, he continued the conversation.
“I’ll be home by seven, so you can take my truck. I don’t have to be at
work until nine tomorrow night.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Nigel answered, rejecting his offer

immediately, and Cayson could hear the frown in his voice. “I can
call a cab or have one of my friends come pick me up.”

Sighing quietly, Cayson rolled his eyes and shook his head. “What

if I drove you?” It meant that he’d also have to pick Nigel up. Why
couldn’t the man just accept his proposal? Things would be much less
complicated that way.

“I don’t want you to have to do that. Maybe you could just take

me home before you leave for work tonight.”

Right, like that was going to fucking happen. He hoped the wolf

shifter wasn’t going to be a problem, but as long as there was even a
chance that Drew could get to Nigel, Cayson wasn’t about to leave
him alone and unprotected. He’d kept his mouth shut about the car,
but this was one thing that he wasn’t willing to negotiate.

“No,” he answered firmly. “You’re safer here. I don’t know if that

idiot ex of yours will try anything, but I’m not about to give him the
chance.” Rinsing quickly and shutting off the water, Cayson jerked
the shower curtain back with more force than he’d intended, causing
Nigel to jump at the suddenness of his action.

Nigel dropped his head so that his chin rested on his chest and

scuffed his toe over the tiled floor. “He scares me,” he whispered. “I
don’t know why, but he does. I’ve never been afraid of anyone like
the way he makes me feel.” He chuckled in a self-depreciative way
but still wouldn’t look at Cayson. “I’m so pathetic.”

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Stepping out of the shower, Cayson grabbed the towel he’d left on

the counter and wrapped it around his waist. Then, without a word, he
crossed the room and lifted Nigel’s head by applying gentle pressure
under his chin with the knuckle of his forefinger. “You are not
pathetic,” he said when those bright-blue eyes finally met his gaze.
“Being scared doesn’t make you weak. It makes you smart. Drew is
dangerous, Nigel. Please understand this.”

“You think I don’t know that? The man drugged me and tried to

convince me that I’m his mate. I just don’t understand what he wants
from me.” There was a dejectedness in Nigel’s tone that tugged at
Cayson’s heartstrings. No one should have to go through what Nigel
had, and he’d do whatever needed to be done to make it right.

“So, are we in agreement, then? I want you here until we figure

out what to do about him. Even if you want me to sleep on the couch,
it’s just safer for you to be here.” Cayson hoped to hell he wouldn’t be
banished to the living room, but if that was what Nigel needed to
make him feel comfortable, he’d do it without complaint.

With a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes, Nigel eventually nodded.

“Yes, I’ll stay here. I still don’t want you to have to drive me to work,
though. Atty comes through here on his way to the office. I can just
have him pick me up.”

Cayson didn’t mind Nigel using his vehicle, but he supposed it

wasn’t a big deal one way or another. The shifter had an independent
streak a mile wide like most other cats. Cayson could live with that.
“Okay, if that’s what you want to do. You’re more than welcome to
take the Tundra if you need to, though. Got it?”

“Yes, and I appreciate it.” Nigel stretched up and pecked him on

the lips. “You should go ahead and get ready for work or you’re going
to be late.”

Glancing at the alarm clock on his bedside table, Cayson groaned

when he realized he had just half an hour to get dressed and drive the
ten miles into Cambridge. No, he definitely didn’t want to be late. It
wasn’t exactly one of those jobs where they wrote him up and gave

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him a slap on the wrist when he messed up. His employers expected
obedience, and Cayson strived to never cross them.

“I don’t know exactly what’s in the kitchen, but you’re welcome

to order pizza or whatever you want,” he said casually as he finished
tucking his black uniform shirt into his pants. “I’ll leave some cash on
the bar in the kitchen.”

“I have money,” Nigel replied with a huff. “I appreciate the

gesture, but I think I can shell out twenty bucks for some food. I’ll
even call the tow company about my car—just like a big boy and
everything.”

Cayson laughed at his mate’s affronted tone and following

sarcasm while he shoved his feet into his boots and laced them
quickly. “Fine.” Rising from the foot of the bed, he stepped closer to
his lover, bent, and kissed him full on the mouth, giving him a
preview of what he could look forward to later. “I’ll be home in the
morning. You have my cell phone number. I expect you to use it if
you need anything.”

“Everything will be fine. Other than Atty and Dorian, no one even

knows where I am. Barring any catastrophic disasters, I think I can
manage a few hours without you.”

“You have a smart little mouth, angel.” Cayson grinned broadly.

“We’re going to have to do something about that.”

Nigel shrugged, crawled onto the mattress, and stretched lazily.

“You can try.” His eyes lit up with humor, and there was a
mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He was definitely going to be a handful, but Cayson wouldn’t

have it any other way. With one final peck to Nigel’s forehead, he
grabbed his jacket off the chair in the corner of the room, slid it on,
and said his good-byes.

It took him longer than usual to make it to the underground

corrections complex because of the icy roads, but he pulled into the
parking lot of the convenience store that sat atop it and around to the
back, stopping just under one of the security lamps.

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Since most humans were oblivious to all things paranormal, and

the supes of the world were more than happy to let them continue in
their ignorance, they’d had to find some imaginative ways over the
years to hide who and what they were. A midsize, high-security
prison in the middle of some bumfuck-nowhere town would surely
arouse suspicion.

There were several correctional facilities for the magical world

scattered all throughout the United States, Mexico, Canada, and even
a couple overseas in Europe and Australia. Built underground and
hidden from public records by the exchange of large sums of money
when they weren’t lucky enough to have a supe in office to facilitate,
it took years sometimes for construction to be completed.

Ironrock of Cambridge was one of the newest additions to the

International Paranormal Corrections branch of their government. It
housed approximately two hundred of the most dangerous
paranormals in the country, all tried and convicted for crimes against
humans. For the most part, they allowed the different races to govern
themselves, but when someone risked exposure to humans, all bets
were off and IPC stepped in to take over.

Not many men were brave enough to enter the walls of any PCC.

Only the strongest, toughest, and most ruthless were chosen to guard
the inmates. It wasn’t a voluntary position. One didn’t simply apply
for a job there. They were chosen for a number of reasons, trained,
and held under contracts for varying amounts of time.

Most, like Cayson, were former inmates, offered a second chance

to reenter society. The price for a new life was steep, however.
Cayson was currently in his sixth year of a forty-year contract, and
sometimes, it felt worse than being trapped behind those iron bars.

“Downs,” the guard at the door greeted him, checking his badge

and security clearance before pressing a button to open the locking
mechanism on the door. “They’re feisty tonight. Two of the wolves
got into it earlier. Jefferson took a chunk out of Nafferty’s side.”

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“I’ll assume he’s in the infirmary.” Cayson wanted to roll his

eyes, but he maintained his cool composure. Jefferson and Nafferty
were two of the meanest fuckers housed at Ironrock. They were also
notorious for inciting trouble. Cayson just viewed them as immature
pups who needed a good ass beating.

“Nah, you know how those damn shifters are. Nafferty healed

right up within an hour. Made a fuckin’ mess of the dining hall,
though.”

“Great.” Cayson shook his head, pocketed his identification, and

pushed through the heavy steel door. “Have a good night, Ryans.”

“You’re late,” another man accused him the minute the door

closed behind him.

“No, I’m not.” Cayson didn’t have the time or patience for this

shit. He just wanted to do his job, get it over with, and get the hell
back home to his mate. Part of him felt sick that he hadn’t told Nigel
about his contract, but another part of him argued that they were still
getting to know each other. There would be time to discuss these
things later.

“You’ve got Block Orange tonight.” The guard gave him an evil

grin and sauntered away.

Fucking rodent. Okay, technically, the man was a possum shifter

and therefore a marsupial. They still looked like giant rats to Cayson.

The cell blocks weren’t numbered or lettered like in human

prisons. They were color-coded—green for the small and less hostile
inmates, blue for the shifters, orange for the vampires, and red for the
werewolves. Cayson really fucking hated vampires. He hated the
thuggish werewolves more, so he was at least thankful he wasn’t
working Block Red for the night.

After circling the facility and being briefed on the earlier incident

in the mess hall, Cayson stepped into the guards’ locker room and
stripped quickly. Folding his clothes neatly, he placed them inside his
locker before kneeling to the floor, closing his eyes, and allowing the
shift to wash over him.

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After so many years, the transformation wasn’t nearly as painful

as it had been when he was first learning, but it was still
uncomfortable. Having bones, muscles, and organs melt and reform
was always a difficult process.

Shaking his lean frame and snorting to clear the usual second of

disorientation, he lifted his head, tall and proud, and padded back out
through the doggie door cut low in the wall beside the main entrance
to the room. His ears pointed straight up, twitching slightly while he
listened for any signs of trouble from his wards.

Ryans had warned him that the inmates were in high agitation, but

everything appeared calm to Cayson. In fact, things were a bit too
calm. Conversation was almost nil on his block, movement minimum.
It was very unlike the bloodsuckers to be so docile, and the
strangeness piqued his suspicion.

Searching the long corridor, he tried to find his partner for the

evening but saw no one. As the biggest cell block in the building,
Block Orange was always guarded by at least two guards and
sometimes as many as four. For him to be alone wasn’t just unusual, it
was downright dangerous, and it didn’t sit well with him. Something
was seriously wrong.

“Here, little puppy. C’mere, boy,” one of the vampires taunted

him from inside his cell. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had blood
from the source.” He leered at Cayson and licked his lips. “Don’t
worry. I’ll make it good for you.”

Dropping his head and bearing his teeth, Cayson growled

viciously, snapping his jaws and barking madly as he lunged at the
bloodsucker. Proving that he wasn’t as big of an idiot as he pretended
to be, the vampire backed off, retreating to his bunk, where he glared
sullenly at Cayson.

Inwardly rolling his eyes, Cayson continued his patrol, stopping

occasionally to sniff the air, trying to pinpoint where his anxiety was
coming from. Still, he could find nothing amiss. Maybe he was just
being paranoid after all the bullshit with Drew. He needed to get

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himself together. Distraction was a dangerous thing and could very
easily end up with him bleeding out on the ugly orange tiles.

Just as he reached the end of the corridor, his partner—a large,

muscular Rottweiler shifter—appeared at the top of the stairwell and
rounded the corner, greeting him with a huff and dip of his square
head.

“Downs,” he greeted him through the pack telepathy that all

canines shared.

“Ruston.” Cayson kept his head high, establishing himself as the

alpha between them. “Everything seems quiet tonight. What’s going
on?”

“I don’t know, but I was thinking the same thing. These

bloodsuckers are usually wound up and itching for a fight. It’s like
they’ve been sedated or something. I don’t get it, but it makes me
nervous.”

Yeah, it made Cayson nervous as well, but he wouldn’t admit that

to his partner. “Just keep an eye on them, and let me know if you see
anything suspicious.”

“Will do. Is it just us tonight? I thought Brooks was supposed to

be patrolling Block Orange as well.”

“I haven’t heard anything about that. Maybe he’ll come on later.”
Ruston huffed again and gave a little shake of his shoulders—the

canine equivalent of a shrug. Then he trotted off down the corridor in
the direction Cayson had just come from. Cayson watched him go for
a moment, making sure he didn’t run into any altercation, and then
descended the stairs to the bottom floor of their block.

It was the same scene all over again. He endured a few taunting

words, but all of the vampires seemed unusually calm, almost as if
they were in a trance. Cayson had never witnessed anything like it.
While it made his job easier, it also made him twitchy. Anything out
of the ordinary, even if it was a seemingly positive change, almost
always meant trouble.

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With a new mate who needed him, the last thing he needed was

trouble that could end up getting him killed.

* * * *


Cayson never came home. He didn’t answer his cell phone, either.

Every one of Nigel’s fourteen calls had gone straight to voicemail,
and it was beginning to make him nervous.

“I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe there was an emergency at work,”

Atticus said, obviously trying to soothe him.

Nigel stared blankly at his computer screen and shrugged. He

hadn’t known Cayson for very long, but the behavior didn’t match
what he’d learned about the man. If something had come up at work,
Cayson would have called to let him know that he’d be late. He
wouldn’t have left Nigel to worry about him.

“If you don’t hear from him by nightfall, I’ll have Salem check it

out. Does that work for you?”

Glancing over his shoulder, Nigel offered his friend a tentative

smile. “I’m sure he’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Salem has more
important things to do than go chasing after my wayward mate.”

Atticus nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. Still, he was smart

enough to know when to back off and give Nigel the space he needed
to think. No doubt he was extremely worried about Cayson, but he
didn’t want to look like a complete loser by having his best friend’s
mate go storming the castle gates. Besides, he didn’t even know
where the damn prison was located.

“Have you guys ever heard of Ironrock PCC?”
Both Atticus and Cedric shook their heads. “What’s that?” Cedric

asked. “Is it like a company or something?”

“It’s a prison. Ironrock Paranormal Corrections Complex, and I

think Cayson said it’s located in Cambridge. I’ve never heard of it
before, and I’ve certainly never seen anything resembling a prison in
the town before.”

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“I haven’t either, and I pass through there twice a day. That’s

really strange.” Atticus frowned, his eyebrows drawing together to
form a shallow V. “Is that where Cayson works?”

“He’s a guard there. Well, that’s what he said anyway, and I don’t

know why he would have reason to lie to me about something like
that.”

“Well, I’m sure everything is fine,” Atticus repeated, though he’d

lost some of his earlier conviction.

“Are you going back to his place tonight?”
Nigel swiveled his chair around to face Cedric. “I was going to,

but if he’s not there, wouldn’t that be a little weird?” Cayson wanted
him there, wanted him to be safe, but he felt like an interloper,
especially if he returned while Cayson was still missing.

No, he couldn’t think that way. Cayson wasn’t missing. He was

just…absent. That didn’t mean that something bad had happened to
him or that he was lost. It just meant that Nigel didn’t know where he
was.

The anxiety ate at him, making his stomach cramp painfully. He

couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened. Why
else would Cayson be ignoring his calls?

“Nigel, calm down.” Rising from his chair and crossing the short

distance between their desks, Atticus knelt in front of him and took
both of his hands. “Just breathe, okay? I know you’re worried, and I’d
probably be losing my mind if I was in your shoes. We don’t know
anything right now, though. Maybe his cell phone died. Maybe he
broke it. He could have been called into a meeting with his boss and
wasn’t able to answer the phone. Just try to relax, okay?”

“He should have gotten off work nearly four hours ago. Meetings

don’t take that long, Atty.” Rolling his chair back, Nigel pushed to his
feet, grabbed his coat, and pushed his arms through it. “I’m going to
get some coffee.”

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Atticus and Cedric exchanged startled looks before quickly

composing themselves. “I’ll come with you,” Cedric offered, rising to
his feet as well.

“Yes, I could use some caffeine as well. It’s not easy being mated

to a man who begins his day when the sun goes down.”

Growling under his breath, Nigel resisted the urge to snap at them.

He knew they were simply concerned for his well-being, but really,
what the hell was Drew going to try in the middle of the morning
inside a crowded café? “Guys, I know what you’re doing, and it’s not
necessary. I can handle getting my own coffee.”

“I don’t trust that asshole,” Cedric replied, obviously referring to

Drew. “I don’t think you should go there on your own.” Well, at least
he was finally being honest.

“I don’t trust Drew, either, but after his run-in with Cayson, I

doubt he’s eager to repeat the experience. You can’t babysit me all the
time, and I don’t want you to. I’m going to have to face Drew at some
point. I can’t hide for the rest of my life.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to face him alone.” Dorian stopped

just inside the office, entering from the direction of the workroom. He
crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “You’re not going there
alone, so stop being such a pain in the ass.”

“So, we’re just going to all go on a fucking field trip?” Nigel

exploded, tired of being treated like a child. “You’re seriously going
to shut down the shop just so you can escort me around the block to
get a goddamn cup of coffee? This is stupid, and you know it.”

“No,” Dorian growled. “What’s stupid is you acting like nothing

is wrong. Drew is dangerous, Nigel. Why can’t you understand that?”

It sounded almost exactly like what Cayson had said to him the

night before. Thinking about Cayson made his throat burn and his
chest constrict. Thinking about Drew made his stomach clench and
his hands shake. Damn it! He just didn’t want to think about anything
anymore.

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“I don’t know where he is,” he whispered, more scared for his

mate than he was of the wolf shifter at the local coffee shop. “This
isn’t like him. Something’s wrong. I know it is.”

“You’ve only known him for a few days,” Cedric argued. “How

do you know what’s usual behavior for him?”

“Cedric, shut it,” Dorian admonished him. He crossed the room

and, without a word, slid Nigel’s jacket off his shoulders, draping it
over the back of his chair. “When is the last time you tried to call
him?”

“About twenty minutes ago,” Nigel answered dejectedly. He

didn’t care what Cedric thought. He knew Cayson would have called
him after all of those frantic voice messages he left. He wasn’t cruel,
and he would have never made Nigel worry like that for no reason.

Even as he thought the words, his cell phone began to ring,

vibrating on his desk as it skittered over some paperwork. Nigel
tripped over his feet in his haste to get to it, nearly falling face-first
into the corner of his desk. Righting himself at the last moment, he
snatched the phone up and connected the call.

“Cayson? Is that you? Where are you?”
“Hey, angel.” Cayson’s voice was soft, but Nigel could hear the

exhaustion in his tone. “I’m at home now. I’m sorry I was late, but
some stuff came up at work. I should have called, but I got busy and
just didn’t have the time. Did you make it to work okay?”

Nigel frowned. “Yeah, Atty drove me. Cayson? Are you really

okay? You don’t sound right.”

“I’m fine, angel. Just need to get some sleep.” The words were

still quiet, but they sounded almost slurred now. Not like Cayson was
drunk, though. It was more like he was…hurt.

“Do you still want me to stay tonight?”
“Why do you even have to ask me that? You know I want you

right beside me all the time. I’m going to get some sleep now, but I’ll
see you when you get here, okay?”

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Nigel didn’t want to hang up. Something wasn’t right, and it

sounded like Cayson was trying to protect him from whatever it was.
“Yeah, I’ll see you in a little while.”

“What time do you get off work?”
“Not until six, but I think I might leave early today. I’ll be there

around noon.”

“Don’t do that,” Cayson said a little too quickly. “I mean, I’m just

going to be sleeping. There’s no reason that you need to take off
work. I know you were worried, and I’m sorry about that. I promise
that I’m fine, though. I’ll see you tonight.”

Not going to happen. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. I’m glad you’re

okay.” Nigel hung up and pocketed his phone with a scowl. “He says
he got tied up at work, but he doesn’t sound right. I know he’s tired
from working all night, but this was…different.”

“So, what do you want to do?” Dorian asked, though Nigel had a

feeling his friend already knew what he was going to say.

“Would you guys be pissed if I begged off today? I’m worried

about him. I think he needs me, but he’s just too damn proud to admit
it.”

Each of his friends nodded their agreement, and Atticus squeezed

his shoulder in comfort. “No problem, Nigel. Your mate should
always come first. We’ll manage without you for the day.”

Dorian grabbed Nigel’s jacket and shoved it toward him as he

jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the exit. “I’ll drive.”

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Chapter Eight


Every muscle in his body burned like he’d been dumped into the

seventh circle of hell. His head pounded, threatening to explode with
every tiny movement he made. Just talking to Nigel on the phone had
been excruciating, but after all the voicemails he’d received—each
one more desperate than the last—he’d needed to reassure his mate
that he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.

Gods, he hated lying to Nigel. He hated keeping secrets from him.

It didn’t matter that the less Nigel knew, the safer he’d be. Cayson
still felt like a huge asshole for his deceit. A small, hollow voice in
the back of his head argued that he hadn’t actually lied about
anything. He’d just been a little vague on the details.

That excuse didn’t cut it, though. Nigel was his partner, and he

deserved better than what Cayson had offered him so far. They’d have
to talk, and soon. Hopefully, by the time Nigel arrived home from
work, Cayson would be mostly healed from his “obedience” training.

The worst part of it was that he never knew when it was coming.

The higher-ups treated it like randomized drug testing. Once every
few months, they drew names from a lottery for mandatory ongoing
training.

Cayson snorted at the term. It was about power, pure and simple.

His overseers simply wished to remind their employees who was boss
and what could happen to them if they stepped out of line. None of it
was necessary, though. Cayson, along with his fellow guards, was
well aware of the ramifications of rebellion.

Burying his face in his pillow, Cayson inhaled deeply, smiling

softly when he realized that Nigel’s scent still permeated the case.

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The sweet fragrance surrounded him like a soothing balm, easing his
tense muscles and making him drowsy.

He really needed to shower, to clean out his wounds before he

ended up with silver poisoning, but he couldn’t make himself do it.
He ached right down to his bones, and each flex of his muscles sent
unbearable pain lancing across every inch of his body.

Calculating how long it would take him to heal, Cayson realized

he’d be cutting it damn close. If he didn’t shower and extract the
silver from his skin, it would take that much longer. Nigel would have
kittens if he saw him like this.

The thought of Nigel’s sweet face twisted into a mask of fear was

the deciding factor that finally had him gritting his teeth and pushing
up from the mattress. A strangled moan rolled up from his chest, but
he kept from crying out by clamping his lips together even tighter.

Surveying the sheets, Cayson grimaced at the dark stains where

his blood had seeped through his clothing and onto the bedding. He’d
have to wash that before Nigel arrived, but it could wait a bit longer.
His body was too depleted, and he just didn’t have the strength for it
right then.

Shuffling like an old man toward the bathroom, he paused just as

he reached the door when he heard the crunch of tires against the
gravel in his driveway. A moment later a car door opened and closed,
and footsteps thumped up the front steps.

Before he could decide what move to make, the front door

opened, letting him know exactly who was in his home. “Cayson?
Where are you?”

Taking a deep breath and grinding his teeth together until his jaw

ached, Cayson hurried as much as his abused body would allow him
into the bathroom, where he closed the door and locked it. What the
hell was Nigel doing there? Cayson had told him not to come until he
got off work. Why did the man have to be so damn stubborn?

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“Cayson?” Nigel called his name again. Footsteps strode

purposefully across the carpeted floor of his bedroom and stopped
right on the other side of the bathroom door. “Cayson, open the door.”

“I was just about to take a shower. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Praying Nigel would accept that and hoping his voice hadn’t sounded
too strained, Cayson stepped carefully to the shower and flipped the
handle to start the water. What the crap did he do now?

“What the hell happened to your sheets?”
Cayson squeezed his eyes closed and fisted his hands at his sides.

“Just leave it alone,” he whispered.

“Is this…blood?” The horror was evident in Nigel’s tone, and the

sharp gasp that followed made Cayson’s heart drop to the pit of his
stomach. “Cayson Downs, open this fucking door!”

Resigned to his fate, but not liking it one bit, Cayson moved

laboriously back to the door and unlocked it. Whatever happened, he
just wanted to get it over with, because he was too damn tired to fight.

The door eased open, revealing Nigel standing there with

narrowed eyes and the top sheet from the bed grasped in his hand.
“What is this?” he demanded, shaking the fabric in Cayson’s
direction. Then he stopped abruptly, his eyes went wide, and the sheet
fell from his hands as his mouth dropped open in shock. “What
happened to you?”

“I’m okay,” Cayson responded automatically, though he felt

anything but. “I just need to get in the shower. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Is that…is that silver?” Stepping forward, Nigel reached out with

trembling fingers but stopped just before he touched the bite marks on
Cayson’s chest.

Taking his lover’s wrists, Cayson pushed him back gently. “I’m

fine,” he repeated. “Could you please change the sheets while I
shower?”

“No.” Nigel extracted his hands from Cayson’s hold and pushed

past him, stomping over to the tub. Turning the shower off, he fitted
the stopper into the drain and began filling the tub. Once he was

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satisfied with the temperature, he turned back to Cayson and pointed
to the toilet and the closed lid. “Sit.”

Realizing that it would be pointless to argue, Cayson did as he

was told, even allowing Nigel to help ease him down to a sitting
position. Without saying a word, Nigel crouched in front of him,
unlaced one of his boots, and slid it off his foot. Then he repeated the
act with the other one before stripping off Cayson’s socks and
gesturing for him to stand.

Once he was completely undressed, Nigel led him to the tub, shut

off the faucet, and did his best to help Cayson into the bath, though it
wasn’t easy with their height difference. Cayson hissed when the
steaming water met with the open gashes on his chest, back, legs, and
arms but continued until he was fully submerged.

“Come here, angel.”
Nigel shook his head and swallowed hard, his eyes looking a little

too red for Cayson’s comfort. “Just relax, big guy. We need to get
these wounds cleaned.”

Sitting on the side of the tub, Nigel worked diligently, carefully

cleaning each wound and even picking out the pieces of hardened
silver from the worst of the gashes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered each
time Cayson flinched or groaned, but he didn’t stop until he had
Cayson cleaned from head to toe.

“I’m going to drain the tub and refill it with clean water. Do you

want to stay in here?”

“Yes.” Dropping his head back on the tiles, Cayson closed his

eyes and sighed. Some of the pain had receded now that Nigel had
removed the silver, but it would be hours yet before he was
completely healed. “Thank you, angel.” He wanted to say more, to
say that he’d never wanted Nigel to find out this way or see him like
this, but he just couldn’t make his brain work.

Instead of a verbal answer, Cayson felt a soft hand brush the hair

back from his face and warm lips press against his forehead. He didn’t
deserve it, but he definitely craved the affection.

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In short order, Nigel had the tub drained and cleaned as best he

could with Cayson taking up the majority of the space inside it. Clean,
hot water rushed from the faucet, splashing over Cayson’s feet and
ankles and slowly rising up around him on all sides.

“You should probably eat something,” Nigel said softly, but

Cayson could still detect the thickness in his voice, as if his throat had
closed off and wouldn’t allow him to breathe properly. It only made
him feel like more of a bastard.

“Please come here.” Opening his eyes, Cayson rolled his head to

the side to look up at Nigel. “I just want to hold you for a little while.”

Nigel chewed on his lip, looking very uncertain. Just when

Cayson thought he would be rejected, his lover finally dipped his
head once and pulled his shirt up over his head. His cheeks tinted the
most adorable shade of pink, and he wouldn’t look at Cayson as he
continued undressing.

“You’re beautiful,” Cayson breathed. While he hoped it reassured

his lover, that wasn’t why he’d said it. Hell, he hadn’t even realized
he’d spoken aloud until Nigel looked up at him incredulously. “Don’t
give me that look. You’re gorgeous.”

The shifter looked like he wanted to argue, but in the end, he just

pressed his lips together and climbed silently into the tub, insinuating
himself between Cayson’s thighs. “Is this okay? Am I hurting you?”

“You’re not hurting me, but it’s not okay, either.” Wrapping his

arms around Nigel’s waist, Cayson pulled the smaller man into his lap
and held him tight, nuzzling against the side of his neck in an attempt
to comfort them both. “I’m sorry you had to see me this way, but I’m
glad you’re here.”

“What happened to you?” Nigel rested his head on Cayson’s

shoulder and fingered the angry flesh around one of his wounds.
“These look like bite marks, Cayson. Did one of the inmates attack
you?”

Fuck. He really didn’t want to talk about this. “Not now, okay?”

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A warm puff of air drifted over his shoulder at Nigel’s sigh.

“Yeah, I guess, but we are going to talk about it. I don’t like secrets,
Cayson.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to like this one then.

* * * *


Nigel would have said something wasn’t right, but it was so

obvious, he’d just feel stupid to say it out loud. His instincts told him
that if Cayson was unwilling to talk about what had happened to him,
that meant it wasn’t an accident. He didn’t for a second believe that it
was an inmate who’d attacked his mate, either.

Yes, he’d asked about the inmates, but his subconscious dismissed

the idea as soon as he’d spoken the words. Surely prisoners wouldn’t
have access to the liquid silver that he’d cleaned from Cayson’s
wounds. Who would do something like that? Had his lover been
attacked by fellow guards? Maybe he’d stopped on his way home
from work and been jumped then.

None of it made sense to him, and he was getting more anxious by

the second. He didn’t like secrets, and it was beyond apparent that
Cayson was keeping a big one. Adding to his unease was the fact that
his mate was unwilling to discuss what had happened with him.
Without details, all kinds of horrid images sprang to Nigel’s
imagination.

The more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed that

someone had gotten the jump on Cayson. The guy was enormous. His
senses were highly acute, not to mention his supernatural strength and
agility. Coming to the conclusion that the shifter had allowed
someone to hurt him was disconcerting. Why on earth would he do
something like that?

“You need to rest.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he could

hold off on the interrogation until Cayson had healed. “Let’s get you
in bed.”

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“I don’t want to move.” Cayson’s hold tightened around him,

holding him in place when he went to untangle himself from the
man’s arms. “Just be still.”

“We need to let these wounds dry so they can heal. Stop being so

stubborn and let me take care of you.”

Cayson’s eyelids fluttered open, and he lifted his head to frown at

Nigel. “This isn’t right.”

Of course the man was going to have issues with someone taking

care of him. Nothing could ever just be easy with these macho alpha
types. “I promise the next time someone chews me up and spits me
out, I’ll let you take care of me.”

His mate growled at him, and it wasn’t the sexy, I-want-to-ravish-

you kind of growl, either. It was probably meant to be intimidating,
but it wouldn’t work on Nigel. If there was one thing he knew, it was
that he was completely safe with Cayson. It was practically coded in
the man’s DNA to care for, cherish, and protect him from any threat.

Besides, he had plenty of experience with stubborn, uncooperative

males. Dorian might not be his mate or lover, but the man was
definitely a pain in the ass when he was hurt, refusing to let anyone
help him. That had never stopped Nigel, though, and it wasn’t about
to stop him now.

Careful of Cayson’s injuries, he extracted himself from those

strong arms and climbed out of the tub. After finding a couple of
fluffy towels, he dried himself quickly, wrapped the cotton around his
waist, and held the other open for his mate. “Come on, big guy.
You’ll feel better after you sleep.”

With a weary sigh and a pain-filled groan, Cayson pulled the

stopper from the tub and levered himself out of it. Slowly and gently,
Nigel patted the water from his lover’s body, all the while fighting
back the anger he felt at each mark that marred the once flawless skin.
Most likely there wouldn’t be any scarring, but he’d forever have the
image imprinted in his memory.

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Dropping the towel to the floor and promising himself he’d clean

it up in a bit, he took Cayson’s hand and gave it a little tug to get the
man moving. “Ah, crap.” He’d completely forgotten about the stained
sheets. “Just one more minute, okay?”

Cayson nodded and propped himself up against the wall, yawning

hugely and rubbing at his eyes. It would have been adorable if not for
the reason behind his exhaustion. “I’m good. There are clean sheets in
the closet by the guest room.”

Nodding his understanding, Nigel hurried out into the hall and

grabbed the only set of fresh sheets on the shelf. Then he raced back,
stripped the bed, and remade it in record time. He still wasn’t fast
enough, though, and by the time he was finished, Cayson was asleep
on his feet and starting to slide down the wall.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he whispered. He’d lost the towel around his

waist sometime during his frantic struggle with the sheets, but he
couldn’t have cared less. The only thing that mattered was getting
Cayson in bed so his body could begin to repair the damage that had
been done to him.

Cayson never opened his eyes as he plodded across the short

distance, allowing Nigel to lead him. Then he literally fell on the bed,
bouncing a couple of times before going completely still, sprawled
sideways with his feet hanging off the edge of the mattress.

Shaking his head and smiling indulgently, Nigel picked the

blanket up off the floor and draped it over his lover, covering him
from shoulders to toes. The soft snores were cute, and Nigel wanted
nothing more than to crawl up beside Cayson and snuggle, but that
would have to wait.

Right then, he had a mess to clean up, dinner to start, and a phone

call to make.

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Chapter Nine


There was pissed off and then there was pissed the fuck off. Nigel

was on a headlong spiral into the latter.

It hadn’t taken him long to clean up the bathroom, throw the

bedding and wet towels into the washing machine, and call for
Chinese takeout—because gods forbid Cayson have anything to eat in
the house. Once he’d been assured that the food would be there in half
an hour, he’d hung up and dialed Fantasy Creations to check in and
let everyone know that his mate was more or less okay.

What he’d gotten instead was Atticus informing him that he’d

talked to Salem about paranormal prison systems, and it wasn’t pretty.
A small sliver of him had wanted to be mad. Atticus had no right to
go behind his back like that. Then again, it wasn’t exactly like they’d
been gossiping about Cayson. None of them had even known there
was an international governing body over paranormals, let alone that
it had its own corrections branch.

Intellectually, it made sense to find out as much about it as they

could, and the first place to start would be with someone in power. As
newly appointed king of the entire vampire race, Salem was their
man. The guy must have been thrilled to be woken up in the middle of
the day and bombarded with questions. Nigel was half-surprised that
Atticus had even gotten anything out of his mate.

What Atticus had learned, and then relayed to Nigel, set his blood

on fire and made him see red. He just hadn’t figured out who
deserved his rage more. The PCC of Cambridge or his dear mate,
who’d dodged his questions and worries. As far as Nigel was
concerned, a lie by omission was still a lie.

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So, when Cayson finally shuffled into the kitchen well after

sunset, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and looking too sexy
for his own good, it was a testament to his anger that Nigel wasn’t
even fazed. Leaning back in his chair at the table, he crossed his arms
over his chest and glared.

Yes, he knew he wasn’t being fair. He’d known Cayson for less

than a week. The time they’d actually spent together was even less
than that. No one simply poured their heart out after that short amount
of time, but their circumstances were a little different. Cayson Downs
was his mate, and whether or not it meant something to the big shifter,
it certainly did to Nigel.

“You look better.” He was pleased to note the absence of any

scarring but not enough to let Cayson off the hook. “There’s some
pork and rice left over from lunch, or we can order something else if
you’re hungry.”

“Leftovers are fine.” Cayson grunted and plodded across the

kitchen tiles to the refrigerator.

Either he was oblivious to Nigel’s downshift in mood, or he was

choosing to ignore it. Whatever the reason for his lack of contrition
under Nigel’s glare, it was an annoying and unsatisfactory reaction.

“So, it’s later.”
“And I can tell from that sour look on your face that you already

know most of the details.” Cayson didn’t ever turn and face him as he
spoke. He went about heating up the leftover Chinese food as if
nothing was wrong.

“Yes, but you should have told me. I shouldn’t have had to find

out from someone else.”

Cayson shrugged his broad shoulders, his back still to Nigel as he

watched his food spin around inside the microwave. “We’ve spent
maybe thirty-six hours together total. When exactly would have been
the right time to tell you that I was in prison for eight years?”

“Wait. What? You were in prison?” Nigel didn’t shout the words,

but it was a near thing. He did, however, jump to his feet with such

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force that it sent his chair skidding across the floor with a loud
scraping noise. “Cayson, look at me!”

Instead of doing as Nigel had demanded, Cayson rested both

palms on the counter and dropped his head forward. “I think you need
to leave now.”

Nigel was stunned speechless. Was his mate really kicking him

out? Could what he’d done to land himself in prison be so horrible
that he’d rather tear them apart than talk about it? “Cayson, you don’t
mean that.”

His mate’s hands fisted on the countertop, and his shoulders

tensed, the muscles swelling all the way down his back. “I killed a
human, Nigel. That’s why I was in prison. Is that what you wanted to
hear? Did the truth set you free?”

“You’re being a complete ass.” Things were going nowhere in a

hurry. Once again, he was accustomed to dealing with stubborn men,
though, and he wouldn’t be deterred by Cayson’s nasty attitude.
“What did this human do?”

It was very naïve of him, and he understood that, but he couldn’t

fathom that his big, gentle mate would ever hurt anyone, let alone kill
them, without provocation.

“He shot my son.”
Nigel couldn’t stop his gasp or the moisture that pooled in his

eyes. He didn’t know what to say, so for once, he kept his mouth shut.
Moving on instinct, he crossed the room, slid his hands around
Cayson’s waist, and rested his cheek in the middle of the man’s back,
offering comfort in the only way he knew how.

Cayson remained stiff and unmoving for a long time, but Nigel

just continued to rub his cheek over his lover’s back, nuzzling him
while pressing his palms flat against Cayson’s stomach. “I’m so sorry,
sweetheart.”

There was a lot about children that Nigel didn’t understand, never

having been around them before. Pain and loss were things he was all
too familiar with, however. While his parents hadn’t died at his hands,

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he was just as much at fault for their deaths. If he hadn’t been such a
coward, hadn’t hidden in the closet or huddled under that blanket…

“He lived,” Cayson whispered. “He needs special crutches to

walk, and he has trouble with his fine motor functions sometimes, but
he’s alive.”

“What’s his name?”
“Brier.”
Nigel could hear the soft smile in Cayson’s voice as he spoke of

his son. There was also pain there, though, a pain that had been
festering for years. His heart broke for his mate, but Nigel had no idea
what to do to ease his hurt. “Cayson, look at me.” It wasn’t a demand
as before but a plea for Cayson to open up to him.

To his intense relief, Cayson turned, wrapped him up in his arms,

and placed a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry I was an ass. I
don’t really want you to leave.”

Nigel gave him a sly smirk. “I know.” The smile disappeared as

quickly as it had come, and he nuzzled his cheek over the warm skin
on Cayson’s chest. “Please talk to me. I need to understand what
happened.”

His dinner forgotten, Cayson led Nigel into the living room,

dropped down on the couch, and pulled him into his lap. There was an
entire sofa, not to mention the two recliners flanking it, and Nigel was
more than able to sit alone. If Cayson needed to hold him, though,
then there was nowhere else he’d rather be than in the man’s arms.

Settling in for a long talk, Nigel grabbed the blanket on the

cushion beside his mate and spread it over both of them. Then he
curled against Cayson’s chest, kissed the side of his neck, and sighed
happily. He loved how much bigger the man was compared to him,
the way they fit together so perfectly. Fate may have kicked him in
the past, but she was definitely making up for it by guiding him to
Cayson Downs.

“Brier’s mom is a gray wolf shifter,” Cayson began. “We weren’t

mates…obviously.” He snuggled Nigel closer, rubbing his cheek over

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the top of his head affectionately. “But we were friends and both
lonely. I don’t want to say Brier was an accident, but we never
planned to fall into bed together, let alone have a child. He’s one of
the best things that ever happened to me, though.”

It wasn’t just one of those lines that people said, either. Nigel

could hear the truth, the conviction, in his lover’s voice. He did
wonder where Brier was now, but he figured Cayson would get to that
part in his own good time.

“Brier was four and just learning to shift. Hell, his wolf was just a

pup at that time. I had to work late, so Rissa took him out on the full
moon that night.”

“That’s his mom? Rissa?”
Cayson bobbed his head slowly. “I could hear the shouting and

barking when I got there. I guess they’d accidentally wandered across
a couple of campers. I shifted and ran faster than I ever have before,
but it wasn’t fast enough.”

Nigel’s heart lodged in his throat, making it hard for him to

breathe. Who would shoot a puppy? Even a wolf pup wouldn’t be a
threat to a full-grown man. The complete disregard for life appalled
him and made his chest ache at the cruelty.

“Rissa was already dead by the time I got there.” Cayson’s voice

sounded distant and hollow, devoid of any emotion as he recounted
the tale. “She took one of the guys down with her, though. Brier is
whimpering and barking, trying to get his mom to wake up, and that
fucking bastard turned his gun on him.”

His stomach rolled uncomfortably, and Nigel just wanted the story

to end. He didn’t need Cayson to spell it out for him, and luckily the
man didn’t.

“Anyway, I snapped, the guy ended up dead, and Brier barely

made it out alive. Since I didn’t have a pack, the IPC stepped in when
the news spread, and I got a nice, comfy cell with three squares a day.
Brier went to live with Rissa’s parents, and they’ve done more for
him than I ever could.”

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Nigel seriously doubted that but didn’t feel it was his place to

comment. “Do you see him?”

“Yeah, it’s better if he lives with his grandparents, but I get him

on the weekends and holidays. He wants to come live with me, but he
needs someone with him all the time, and with the hours I work, it’s
just not possible.”

There were so many emotions warring for dominance inside his

mate that Nigel could practically feel them like a tangible force
settling over him, smothering him. He could only imagine what it was
like for Cayson.

“Will I get to meet him?” Sure it made him nervous, but the kid

had to be fifteen or sixteen by now. He’d been pretty self-sufficient by
that age. At least he wouldn’t have to change diapers, at any rate.

“I’d like that. You’re both very important to me, but I don’t want

to pressure you. It can wait until you’re ready.”

“When exactly did you plan on telling me that you had a kid?”

Sitting up straighter, he brushed his lips over Cayson’s to take the
sting out of his accusation.

“I don’t know, angel.” Cayson looped his fingers around Nigel’s

neck, rested their foreheads together, and sighed. “There’s no
handbook for this kind of stuff. I mean, what are the rules? Do I just
add that to my introduction? ‘Hi, I’m Cayson. I have a kid.’ Or how
long do I wait before dropping the single-parent bomb?”

Nigel chuckled under his breath and rubbed their noses together.

“I get it, and I understand what you mean. Brier is a big part of your
life, and since I’m hoping to be as well, I really think I should meet
him.”

“You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”
“Of course,” Nigel teased. “So, how old is Brier?”
“He’ll be eighteen in a couple of months.”
“Really? That’s a big one, Cayse. We should have a party!”
Cayson beamed from ear to ear before taking Nigel’s face in both

hands and kissing the breath out of him. “You, my angel, are so very,

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very special.” He went in for another kiss, but Nigel stopped him with
a hand to his chest.

“You still haven’t told me how you got hurt.” There was a reason

this was important, but Nigel was having a hard time remembering it
with his mate nibbling at the side of his neck.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Cayson mumbled huskily. His nose

skimmed the curve of Nigel’s neck from collarbone to ear, and those
big, warm hands dipped under the hem of his shirt to stroke up his
sides. “Mmm, you smell good.”

He should say no. He should demand they talk about it right then.

Nigel had been convinced of it only moments before, but now, he
couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. It wasn’t fair for Cayson to
distract him in a way he was so helpless against.

For years, he’d craved these kinds of devouring kisses and

lingering touches. Yet, whenever he’d gotten close to someone, there
had always been a sense of wrongness. Their touches and caressing
eyes didn’t ignite his body or make his heart pound. His skin didn’t
erupt into goose bumps or tingle with desire. There were no flutters in
his belly or catches in his breath—not until Cayson.

The gorgeous shifter invaded his senses, mesmerized him, and

made him forget everything but the intense pleasure he felt from
something as simple as the brush of lips over his brow. For the
longest time, he’d thought there was something wrong with him.
Now, he realized, it wasn’t him at all, but the fact that he’d yet to
meet the right man who could awaken these feelings inside him. He’d
yet to meet Cayson.

And for those reasons, he pushed away his worries and concerns

about Cayson’s job and, for once, allowed himself to simply live in
the moment. “I want you.” The words slipped through his lips, barely
more than a breath, and they were ones he never thought he’d have
the courage to speak. Cayson made it easy to forget that shy part of
himself that lamented his awkwardness and wished he was bolder,
more confident.

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His mate’s lips stretched against the side of his neck, and Nigel

could practically feel the wickedness dripping from that smirk. “I’m
glad to hear you say that.” Cayson spun Nigel around, dropping him
to the cushions and pinning him there as he growled seductively. “I’m
going to make you purr for me, angel.”

And of that, Nigel had no doubt.

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Chapter Ten


Dark, dangerous, desperate need clawed at Cayson, consuming

him and making his muscles quiver in anticipation. Still, he couldn’t
unleash the desire that inflamed him. More than likely, he’d only
succeed in scaring the hell out of his inexperienced mate.

Cayson knew how to be patient, though. One day, Nigel would be

ready—and hopefully hungry—for the things Cayson wanted from
him. This wasn’t that day, though. For now, slow and gentle, easy and
coaxing, would serve him better than authoritative and untamed.

“I’m going to make you purr for me, angel,” he promised.
Nigel knew the secrets of his past and accepted him without

reservation. Though he’d yet to meet Brier, Nigel’s heart was open to
a relationship with the boy, simply because he was important to
Cayson. Only time would tell if he could also accept the realities of
Cayson’s job and how it would impact their future together.

The selfish part of him wanted to postpone the conversation

indefinitely, but that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. They’d
discuss the dangers of his job and soon, but with his body on fire and
his head swimming with nothing but thoughts of his mate, those less-
pleasant topics would have to wait.

Looming over his lover, Cayson paused, just staring down at the

angel beneath him. It wasn’t some silly endearment that he’d chosen
on a whim. When he called Nigel his angel, he meant it right down to
his soul. The man was stunning physically, but it ran deeper than
superficial beauty.

Nigel embodied all the goodness that Cayson thought the world

had long forgotten. He was kind, fair, honest, and selfless. Though

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Cayson felt he trusted far too easily, it was simply another piece of
the whole that was Nigel Durbin. In a single word, the man was pure,
untouched by the cruelness and hatred that jaded the human nature.

“Cayson?” Nigel levered up on his elbows and tilted his head to

the side. “You’re looking at me funny. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, angel. You’re perfect.”
Nigel ducked his head and blushed all the way to the tips of his

ears. While Cayson loved it as always, he didn’t understand why it
was so hard for Nigel to accept a compliment. Hadn’t anyone ever
told him how amazing he was?

Then again, even if someone had told him, Cayson doubted it

would have made a difference. Pretty words and platitudes meant very
little to a man like Nigel. The only way to prove to him that he was
more special than he realized was to show him. Good thing Cayson
was a man of action.

Slipping his knuckles under Nigel’s chin, Cayson coaxed his face

up and wasted no time in pressing their lips together. The kiss was
slow and tender in that sweet way that spoke of familiarity.

Urgency battered against him, but he wouldn’t be rushed—not

with Nigel. If not for himself, he’d do it for his angel, because the
little man deserved so much better than Cayson. If fate saw fit to give
him such a treasure, he was determined to be worthy of it, though.

Nigel’s quiet moan filled his mouth, sending a shiver up his spine

and making his cock throb painfully where it tented the cotton of his
sweats. The simple act of merely kissing his lover made him feel
more alive than he had since the day Rissa died. While he loved his
son, couldn’t imagine his life without Brier, there had been something
missing, something hollow inside his heart.

Second chances were not freely given, though. It was a fact of life

that Cayson knew all too well. Fate may have sent him Nigel in hopes
that the man would heal what was broken inside of him, but he would
have to give something back in return. He could only hope that the
price wouldn’t be more than he could pay.

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Small, trembling hands landed on his chest, and Nigel’s fingers

dug in, kneading the muscles as he arched up against him. Their
groins met, and they rocked together, rubbing their hard cocks
together through the fabric of their clothing. Flash heat consumed
him, burned him, and Cayson couldn’t stop the possessive growl that
tumbled from his kiss-swollen lips.

Rather than scare his lover, however, it seemed to entice him,

spurring him into action. Nigel’s bright-blue eyes smoldered as he
stared up at him, boldly meeting Cayson’s unblinking gaze. Without a
word, he ran one hand down his own chest, over his stomach, and
stopped at the waistband of his jeans. Still holding Cayson’s stare,
Nigel popped the button open and pulled the fabric aside, causing the
zipper to slide down and his bare cock to spring free.

“You naughty little minx,” Cayson teased, though he was having

trouble getting air into his lungs as his mate’s gorgeous length was
revealed to him. His mouth watered, his lips tingled, and his nostrils
flared when Nigel’s scent assaulted him.

“I didn’t have any clean underwear when I dressed for work this

morning.”

“You should bring some stuff here.” Gods, Cayson didn’t even

know what he was saying anymore. Was he asking the guy to move in
with him? Was he ready for that? Was Nigel? “Fuck it,” he grumbled.
He’d worry about the details later.

“Fuck what?” Nigel asked, his face scrunching up and his nose

wrinkling. “Cayson, you’re really sending out mixed signals here.”

Yes, he supposed that was probably true. Well, he’d just have to

do something about it. Looping an arm around Nigel’s waist, Cayson
pushed up from the sofa, pulling his mate with him, and hoisted the
smaller man up over his shoulder. “Is this clear enough for you,
angel?”

A feline-like hiss slipped past Nigel’s lips when Cayson popped

him on his upturned ass, and he began to squirm, though not in the
way that said he wanted free. It was that delicious half struggle that

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said without words that Nigel looked forward to the things Cayson
would do to him—but he was going to make him work for it.

A predator by nature, Cayson was eager for the challenge. If his

sweet mate wanted a chase, a chase he would get.

Dropping Nigel to his feet, Cayson stripped him quickly, taking

little care with his clothing, even ripping it in some places. The beast
inside him howled and paced, chomping at the bit to get to all of that
smooth, creamy, delectable skin. “I’ll give you a ten-second head
start,” he warned before beginning his countdown.

Nigel stared at him blankly for a moment, trembling from head to

toe as he wrapped his arms around his midsection, obviously trying to
hide as much of himself as he could from Cayson’s view. “What are
you doing?”

“Three…four…five.”
“Cayson, there’s nowhere to run.”
All the better, in Cayson’s opinion. “Six. You better start running,

angel. Seven.”

“Oh, crap.” Nigel huffed once, shook his head, and turned to dart

down the hallway.

Cayson never gave him a chance, though. Nigel had taken only

one step when Cayson caught him up again and nuzzled against the
back of his neck. “Ten.”

“You cheated.”
“You love it.”
Since he received no response other than an almost-silent sigh,

Cayson took that as agreement and proceeded down the hall to his
bedroom. Lowering them both to the mattress, he kept Nigel
facedown, covering his back as he kissed and nibbled up the side of
his throat. He’d promised to make the man purr, and that’s exactly
what he intended to do.

However, the party wouldn’t be nearly as much fun with only one

of them naked. Cayson had never been more thankful for elastic
waistbands as he pushed his sweats down his hips and used his feet to

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tug them the rest of the way off and onto the floor at the foot of the
bed.

His palms slid up Nigel’s sides and over his ribs, while his mouth

made a trek in the opposite direction down his lover’s spine. “Your
skin is so soft,” he whispered before skimming his nose across the
small of Nigel’s back. “And you always smell like spring.” He
couldn’t explain it any better than that. Nigel’s scent was warm,
inviting, and reminded him of sunshine and open fields.

Nigel tensed, and the muscles in his back flexed as he curled his

arms beneath his chest. He didn’t make a sound, made no move of
protest, but he was clearly uncomfortable with the compliments. He
was going to have to get used to it, though, because Cayson had a lot
more adjectives to describe his angel.

Gliding his hands back down his lover’s body, Cayson rubbed

them lightly over Nigel’s pert ass before squeezing the globes gently.
“Relax,” he cooed as he massaged the flexing muscles.

“Please, Cayson.” The words floated to Cayson’s ears on a

strained whimper, and Nigel began to squirm again, wiggling across
the mattress until he could reach the nightstand. A clear plastic bottle
of lube was pushed into Cayson’s hands while his lover looked up at
him with pleading eyes. “No more teasing.”

Nigel’s cock jutted from his groin, thick and swollen, glistening at

the tip, where pre-cum leaked freely and coated the spongy crown.
Keeping his eyes locked with Cayson’s, he reached down, fisted the
pulsing length, and stroked slowly from crown to base and back up.

Cayson’s carefully held control snapped, and a primal growl

rumbled in his chest. Grabbing Nigel, he lifted him off the sheets,
flipped him around, and pressed his chest into the mattress. “Don’t
move,” he ordered, worried his beast would take it as a challenge—a
need to prove himself the alpha. He wouldn’t hurt Nigel for anything
in the world, but with his emotions all over the map, he’d rather not
chance it, either.

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With a firm hold on his lover’s hips, Cayson dragged his cute,

heart-shaped bottom into the air and kicked his thighs farther apart
with one of his knees. Confident that the man wasn’t going anywhere,
he snapped the cap on the lube, dribbled a generous amount on his
fingers, and dropped the bottle to his side.

Without swaying words or coaxing touches, he forwent further

preliminaries, parted Nigel’s cheeks, and slid one slick finger into his
clenching channel, all the way to the base. Nigel groaned, his spine
rounded, and he pushed back against Cayson’s finger as his muscles
quivered. His creamy skin flushed the barest shade of pink, glistening
in the low light from the bedside lamp with a dewy sheen of
perspiration.

“More,” he panted, rocking back and forth on his knees to drive

Cayson’s finger deeper into his heated tunnel. “I need more.”

“I know what you need. Now quiet, kitten, and be still.”
Nigel stopped moving at once, and the only sounds that filled the

room were those of their combined breathing. His lover was too
independent to be completely submissive, but his current surrender
was more than enough for Cayson and his canine.

He pumped his digit twice more before easing it out and pushing

back in with three. Nigel gasped, his head came up off the pillow, and
a high-pitched keening bounced off the walls. Holding perfectly still,
letting his mate adjust to the stretch of being filled, Cayson rubbed up
and down Nigel’s spine, encouraging him to relax.

“Gods, I love that.” Nigel spoke quietly, almost as if he was

ashamed of the things he liked.

If he liked that, he was going to love Cayson’s next move.

Twisting his wrist and spreading his fingers, he sawed in and out of
Nigel’s hole in slow, controlled glides. On the third inward thrust, he
curled his fingers, searching out the bundle of nerves that would send
his lover into euphoria.

“Fuck!” Nigel screamed, his inner walls clamping down on

Cayson’s fingers, squeezing until it was almost painful. The smell of

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freshly spilled semen permeated the air, causing Cayson to shiver and
his eyes to roll back in his head.

His own dick throbbed painfully, begging to feel those convulsing

muscles encasing his shaft. He pumped his digits a few more times,
milking Nigel’s orgasm and loosening his slick opening.

Satisfied that he wouldn’t hurt his mate, Cayson flopped down on

the mattress and lifted Nigel onto his lap, groaning when his swollen
length met with the flushed skin of his partner’s bottom. “It’s all you,
angel.”

“What?” Nigel’s eyes went wide, and he tried to scramble off of

Cayson, but Cayson held him in place with a firm grasp on his hips.
“Cayson, I can’t. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s instinctual, Nigel.” He fisted his cock at the base and held it

upright while retrieving the lube with his other hand. Popping the cap
open, he poured the cool gel over his crown, took Nigel’s hand, and
closed those slender fingers around his dick. “It’s not rocket science.
Just do what feels good.”

Nigel gave him a disbelieving look but began moving his fist,

spreading the lube and slicking Cayson’s cock. “What if I mess this
up?”

“Not possible,” Cayson answered him through gritted teeth. The

feel of his mate’s hand on him was amazing, but he wanted more.
“Stop overthinking it.”

Nodding resolutely, Nigel’s face took on a scrunched expression

of concentration as he lined up his stretched hole with Cayson’s cock
head and slowly lowered, impaling himself on the turgid flesh until
their bodies met and his renewed erection rested heavily against
Cayson’s lower belly.

Cayson’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into Nigel’s hips as

his eyes closed involuntarily. “Sweet hell, angel, you’re so fucking
tight.”

Proving that his concerns were unfounded, Nigel began rising and

falling, riding Cayson like a rodeo champion, allowing him to feel

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every subtle ripple of his mate’s inner walls around his cock. The
tight, wet heat grabbed him, sucked him inside, and pushed his
orgasm closer and closer to the surface.

Cayson had always been damn proud of his staying power, his

stamina, but everything was heightened with Nigel, more intense. He
hadn’t fought so hard to stave off his climax since he was a teenager,
but holy damn, the man was driving him out of his mind with the need
to come.

Faster and harder, Nigel fucked himself on Cayson’s dick, his

half-lidded gaze burning into Cayson while the most erotic noises
burst from his pink, puffy lips. Those dainty hands landed on
Cayson’s chest, and his fingers flexed, clutching for a hold against the
sweat-slicked skin.

With a feral snarl born of desperate need, Cayson lifted his mate

off of him, pushed him face down on the mattress, and drove back
into his hole with bone-jarring force. Part of him worried he was
being too rough, but Nigel’s cries of ecstasy said otherwise—as well
as the hand that landed on his outer thigh and tugged, urging him to
take what he wanted.

Snapping his hips in lightning-fast motions, he plunged into

Nigel’s heated depths, growling, groaning, snarling, and grunting like
a wild animal. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t tame the beast that lurked
inside him.

His eyes locked on the vein snaking up the side of Nigel’s neck,

and his canines lengthened, sharpened, making his gums ache while
his mouth watered for just one taste. As though sensing what he
needed, Nigel pushed up on his hands and dropped his head, causing
his dark hair to part, baring the back of his neck.

“I’m not scared, Cayson. Claim me.”
Roaring loud enough to shake the walls, Cayson pumped

furiously, spilling his seed into his mate’s clutching channel. As his
orgasm roiled through him, he locked one arm around Nigel’s chest,

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lifted the man to him, and sank his canines into the yielding flesh on
the side of his throat.

His other hand palmed Nigel’s bouncing cock and stroked him

quickly while the first splash of blood bathed his tongue. He wasn’t a
vampire, though, and he didn’t need much—just enough to establish
their bond. So after only a moment, he extracted his fangs, licked over
the puncture marks, and nuzzled the sensitive skin behind his lover’s
ear. “Come for me, angel.”

Right on cue, as though he’d been simply waiting for the

command, Nigel cried out, bucking hard as rivers of cream exploded
from his slit to puddle on the sheets below him. It was the sexiest
fucking thing Cayson had ever witnessed, and it caused his softening
cock to twitch inside Nigel’s tunnel with renewed interest.

“You are so very beautiful, Nigel Durbin.” He caressed his lover’s

chest, just petting and soothing him as he came down from his
orgasm. “My beautiful little angel.”

“Why do you call me that?” The question was only mildly

curious, as though the answer didn’t really matter.

Easing out of Nigel’s body, Cayson cuddled the man in his lap

and whispered soft kisses over his face, ending with a chaste kiss to
his lips. “Because that’s what you are. My sweet angel sent to save
me.”

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Chapter Eleven


Cayson had assured him that the injuries he’d received were just

part of his guard training, but he’d been pretty vague on the details.
Nigel didn’t believe him for one second, but he doubted he’d get
anywhere by pushing the issue. So, he’d let it go for the time being
but made a mental note to find out more about the paranormal prison
systems from Salem.

“You do know that curiosity killed the cat?”
Nigel shrugged at Atticus, tossing a mischievous wink in his

friend’s direction. “Yep, but I’ve got nine lives. I figure I can afford
to spare one.”

Atticus rolled his eyes, but he was chuckling as he rolled his chair

up to his desk and powered up his computer. “Fine, I’ll talk to Salem
tonight and see what I can find out for you.”

“Actually, I’m supposed to be meeting Cayson’s kid tonight. I

was hoping you guys wanted to come over and meet him as well.”

“In other words,” Dorian drawled, resting his hip on the edge of

Nigel’s desk, “you’re nervous and want us there to be a buffer.”

The cougar shifter was far too perceptive for Nigel’s liking. “He’s

not really even a kid. He’ll be eighteen soon, but he’s important to
Cayson. I just don’t want to screw this up.”

“Everyone loves you, dumbass. I don’t know why you worry so

much.”

“Wow, thank you, Mr. Sensitive.” Nigel glared and shoved at

Dorian’s hip. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bust my
balls? You know, like, maybe your job.”

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“I’m waiting on the mad scientist to get here. I can’t get the

adhesive right for the electro pads.”

“Thad won’t be in today,” Atticus said distractedly, his eyes glued

to his computer screen. “He has a doctor’s appointment.”

“What?” Nigel and Dorian asked in stereo.
Shifters didn’t get sick and, therefore, had no need to see

doctors—especially human doctors. “Why is he going to the doctor?”

Atticus spun around, his eyes wide and his lips pressed together in

a thin line while he shook his head quickly.

“You know something.” Jumping up from his seat, Nigel prowled

toward his friend with a wicked grin. “What’s going on, Atty? Why
does Thaddeus need to see a doctor?”

Atticus shook his head again. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Umm, so

you’re meeting Cayson’s son tonight. That’s great. What time would
you like us to come over?”

Why was everyone keeping secrets from him? With a reluctant

sigh, Nigel decided once again to let it go and allow the change of
topic. “Cayson is bringing Brier over at seven. So, around then would
be good.”

“Have you talked to Cayson about this?”
“Yeah, I brought it up. He thought it would be a good idea for

Brier to meet some new people. I guess he doesn’t have a lot of
friends.” Should he mention Brier’s condition? He didn’t want to
sound like he was gossiping, but he’d feel horrible if Brier was
embarrassed because of his friends’ reactions.

“Nigel, is something wrong?”
“Brier has to use crutches to walk.” He didn’t know the extent of

the kid’s injuries, but Cayson made it sound bad. “I just don’t want
you guys to stare or treat him like a freak.”

“Glad you think so much of us,” Dorian said flatly as he pushed

away from Nigel’s desk. “I’ll be there, and I promise not to humiliate
you.” Then he stomped out of the room, leaving Nigel to feel like a
gigantic asshole.

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“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quietly to Atticus. “I just

wanted to prepare you guys.”

“I know, Nigel.” Atticus patted his shoulder in comfort. “Dorian

has been a little testy lately. Don’t let him get to you.”

That was true, and it only made Nigel feel like a bigger prick that

he’d been so wrapped up in his new mate that he hadn’t tried to find
out what was wrong with his best friend. “Do you know what’s going
on with him?”

“Not a clue, but I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s ready.”
“There are a lot of secrets going around lately.” It didn’t used to

be like that with them. Never had the six of them kept anything from
each other. Nigel didn’t like it, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Sometimes, they’re not our secrets to tell.”
He supposed that was true. It was part of the reason why he hadn’t

divulged all of the details about his parents’ deaths to Cayson. The
story was a tragic one, but it wasn’t his alone. “Have you told Salem
what happened to our parents?”

Atticus fidgeted in his seat, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable

with the question. “A little.”

Great, more secrets. Feeling very disconnected from his friends in

a way he hadn’t felt before, Nigel wandered back over to his desk and
settled into his chair. Maybe it was just a part of growing up and
finding their mates. Atticus was right that some secrets weren’t theirs
to tell, but it made him feel like they were growing apart. His friends
were all he had left, and he didn’t want to lose them.

“Is it weird that your mate has a son that’s almost the same age as

you?”

The question threw him for a loop. “Hmm, I hadn’t really thought

about it.”

“How old is Cayson anyway?”
“Sixty-two in August.”
“And my mate is a hundred. Gives a new meaning to liking older

men, huh?”

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They had a nice laugh about that, and things felt much more

normal between them. “Where is Cedric? And Brenner? Is anyone
here today?”

“Brenner took Thad to the doctor, and Cedric overslept. He’s on

his way.”

“C’mon, Atty. Tell me what’s up with Thad.”
Atticus chuckled and shook his head. “I really shouldn’t. He’d kill

me if he knew I blabbed.”

“Atty,” Nigel whined. “Tell me!”
Leaning forward, Atticus glanced around the room and urged

Nigel closer. “I guess he has a crush on one of the exotic-animal vets
at the zoo. Brenner is taking him in his shifted form.”

Maybe it should have been funny, but Nigel’s belly cramped

painfully. “Atty, that’s a really, really bad idea. What if they won’t let
Brenner take him home? It’s not exactly legal to own a clouded
leopard.”

“He’s a shifter, Nigel. If it comes down to it, he can always wait

until everyone is gone and shift back to human.”

“But what if they think Brenner took him? Atty, please, call

Brenner and tell him not to do it.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” Atticus was acting way too calm as far

as Nigel was concerned. “This vet that Thaddeus is so infatuated with
is an elf. He’ll know right away that it’s not a real leopard in his exam
room.”

“Oh,” Nigel breathed, finally understanding why the situation was

so funny. “Thad doesn’t know the guy is an elf, does he?”

“Nope.” Atticus laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Brenner is

the one who told me, but I guess he forgot to relay the information to
our dear Thaddeus.”

“You guys are bad.” Snickering under his breath, Nigel once

again returned to his desk, snatching up the phone when it began
ringing. “Fantasy Creations…”

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* * * *


Freshly showered and changed, Nigel hurried around his living

room, straightening and cleaning things he’d already cleaned a dozen
times before. The doorbell rang at precisely seven o’clock, making
him jump and let out a very unmanly yelp.

He could hear Cayson chuckling on the other side of the door, and

his cheeks burned as he made one final check to make sure that there
was nothing on the floor or in the way that would inhibit Brier’s
movements. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile on his face,
he pulled the door open to greet his guests.

“Hello, angel.”
“Hello,” Nigel returned before focusing on the much smaller

young man by Cayson’s side. “You must be Brier. It’s nice to meet
you. Please, come in, both of you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Brier smiled warmly as he shuffled into

the living room. Stopping just past the threshold, he held his right
hand out to Nigel. “Dad has told me a lot about you. Thanks for
having me here today.”

Nigel took the offered hand, squeezing it gently before releasing

it. The family resemblance was uncanny. It was almost eerie how
much Brier looked like his father. Polite, handsome, articulate, the kid
was going to be a heartbreaker for sure.

He was nothing like Nigel pictured him, though. The way Cayson

talked about his son, Nigel had expected…well, maybe not an invalid
but close to it. Brier didn’t have crutches but a simple walking cane,
and though he leaned on it heavily and his movements were slow, he
definitely didn’t have any problems getting around on his own.

He was small, thin, not much taller than Nigel, but there was

enough muscle definition that he couldn’t be called lanky. Dark-blond
hair curled around his face, highlighting his high cheekbones and
dark-blue eyes—eyes the exact shade as his father’s. Apparently
Cayson was suffering from more guilt that Nigel had originally

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thought, because this kid certainly didn’t need a babysitter like his
mate had suggested.

“Dad tends to overexaggerate,” Brier said with a sly wink,

obviously aware of Nigel’s thoughts. “The cane is new, though.” He
dipped his head toward the piece of wood clutched in his fist. “The
doctor says I’m getting stronger, but I’ll probably always need this. At
least I don’t have to use those stupid crutches, though.”

“Actually, the doctor said that there might still be days when you

will need those ‘stupid crutches’ until you build up more muscle in
your legs and back. There’s nothing wrong with that, Brier.”

Brier rolled his eyes and huffed. “Yes, Dad.”
Nigel couldn’t help but chuckle at the exchange. Cayson was

exhibiting his normal overprotective behavior, and Brier was
obviously used to it, judging by his reaction. “Well, at least I’m not
the only one he drives crazy.”

“Tell me about it. You’d think I can’t wipe my own ass the way

he talks about me.”

“Brier!”
Nigel fell into a fit of giggles, propping himself up against the

sofa to keep from falling over in his amusement. “Oh, I like you,
Brier.”

The kid winked at him and bumped their shoulders together. “I

like you, too, Nigel. You’re not nearly as uptight as Dad said you
were.”

Nigel’s laughter cut off abruptly, and he stood straight to glare at

his lover. “He said that, did he?”

“No!” Cayson grumped and shoved a hand through his hair. “I

didn’t say anything like that. Stop trying to get me into trouble, you
little shit.”

Brier ducked his head and smiled. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
Satisfied with the answer, Nigel’s smile returned, and he urged his

guests through the kitchen to the door that led down into the
basement. “We’ll be hanging out down here tonight.” He’d worried

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about Brier maneuvering the steps, but now that he’d met him, he felt
better about the arrangement. “You guys go on and get settled.
Everyone should be here in a minute, and we’ll be right down.”

As if summoned by his statement, the doorbell rang again,

announcing the arrival of his friends. Waving the other men down the
basement stairs, he hurried to the door and pulled it open, stopping in
his tracks when he found Drew standing on his front porch. “What are
you doing here?”

“Aww, don’t be that way, darlin’. Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“No. You need to leave.”
“You haven’t come into the coffee shop lately. Where have you

been, little kitty?” Drew reached out, his fingertips brushing down the
side of Nigel’s neck. “I know you miss me.”

Nigel knocked the asshole’s hand away and took a step back, his

insides vibrating, screaming for him to slam the door and run. The
predatory look in his ex’s eyes as he stepped over the threshold was
not full of heat and desire but a hunger much more primal that scared
the hell out of Nigel. “I rescind your invitation, Drew Macon.”

In a blink, Drew was back on the porch, but the smile that slid into

place on his face could only be described as dangerous. “You’ll regret
that, my little pussy cat.”

“Is there a problem here?”
A strong arm wrapped around Nigel’s waist, pulling him farther

away from the door and behind Cayson’s much larger body. “I told
you what would happen if you came near him again. Don’t make me
bloody my mate’s porch on such a beautiful night, pup.”

The wolf shifter snarled at Cayson, his upper lip curling over his

impossibly white teeth. Then, without comment, he turned on his
heels, stomped down the stairs, and marched out to his vehicle just as
Nigel’s friends started up the walkway.

“Was that the dickhead from the coffee shop?” Cedric asked, not

bothering to hide his distaste. “Please don’t tell me you invited him.”

“No,” Cayson answered for him. “He definitely wasn’t invited.”

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“Good.” Dorian nodded firmly and held his hand out to Cayson.

“It’s good to see you again, man.”

“Likewise.” Cayson gave Dorian’s hand a perfunctory shake and

stepped aside to allow the other men entrance. “I’m Cayson Downs,”
he said, introducing himself, “Nigel’s mate.”

“Welcome to our dysfunctional family,” Brenner replied with a

bright smile. “You’ll fit right in.”

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Nigel stepped forward to make

the introductions, pausing when he got to Atticus. “Where is Salem?”

A throat clearing from the doorway drew his attention, and Nigel

hung his head and groaned when he found Salem leaning against the
doorjamb. “Please come in, Salem.”

The vampire king laughed as he stepped inside and closed the

door quietly behind him. “Don’t worry about it, Nigel. Thanks for
having us over. I hope you don’t mind my guards hanging around
outside. It’s kind of an occupational inconvenience, but it’s
necessary.”

Nigel waved away the apology. He understood Salem’s position

and why the security detail was necessary. Whatever it took to keep
Atticus and Salem safe was fine by him. “Brier is down in the
basement waiting for us, so I guess we should probably head that
way.”

Cedric’s eyes lit up, and he bounced on his toes. “Revenge of the

ninja kitty? I totally want a rematch from last time. I still say you
cheat.”

“Do not,” Nigel mumbled as he bit the inside of his cheek to keep

from grinning. He really didn’t cheat. It wasn’t his fault that he was
smaller and more dexterous than the rest of his friends. “Let’s go.”

Filing down the stairs, Nigel waited until everyone was gathered

in the basement before once again making introductions. “And this is
Cayson’s son, Brier. I’ve assured him that you are all civilized, so
please don’t prove me wrong.”

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A handful of popcorn went sailing across the room to smack him

in the face. “Shut up and let’s play.” Brenner gave him a shit-eating
grin and pointed toward the flat screen bolted to the wall. “I want to
go first.”

“No way,” Cedric countered, shoving Brenner so that he fell down

on the sofa. “I already called a rematch.”

“I think we should make Nigel go last,” Dorian called from the far

corner. “He always wins anyway.” Picking up the remote from the
sidebar, he clicked on the television and went about setting up their
game.

“I’d kind of like to see this, to be honest. Why do you guys call

him ninja kitty?”

The entire room erupted into laughter, and Atticus gave Nigel a

push toward the colorful rug directly in front of the television. “Show
your mate what you can do, Kung-Fu Feline.”

Since it was one of his favorite pastimes, and he was

exceptionally good at it, Nigel didn’t need much persuasion. In his
enthusiasm to get started, he momentarily forgot where he was as he
stripped his T-shirt off over his head and reached for the button on his
jeans.

“Whoa!” Cayson grabbed his shirt up off the floor and pushed it

to his chest. “What are you doing?”

“Oops.” Nigel grinned sheepishly as his friends chuckled at his

slip. “Umm, I’ll be right back.” Hurrying into the bathroom on the
other side of the room, he quickly divested his clothing and knelt
down on the floor, closing his eyes as he waited for the shift to flow
through him. Once completed, he meowed loudly and batted at the
edge of the door until it opened, allowing him to saunter back into the
room.

“Oh, that is precious,” Salem teased. Atticus’s elbow caught the

vampire in the ribs, causing him to grunt and rub at his side. “What?
He’s cute.”

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Ignoring everyone else, Nigel wound his way through the people

gathered in his basement and right up to Cayson, purring softly as he
rubbed against his mate’s legs. Bending from the waist, Cayson lifted
him into his arms and scratched behind his ears, making Nigel’s
eyelids droop and his purring increase in speed and volume.

“He’s right, ya know? You’re adorable, baby.”
Nigel batted at Cayson’s cheek with his paw but was careful to

keep his claws retracted. Then he butted his mate’s jaw with the top
of his head, rubbing up the side of his neck and over his cheek.
Adorable wasn’t a very masculine description, but he was too happy
in Cayson’s arms to care about his image.

“You ready?” Dorian asked, a bit sharper than Nigel felt was

really needed. What the hell had gotten into his friend?

Either Cayson didn’t detect the hostility, or he chose to ignore it

as he placed Nigel on the floor and gave him one last scratch behind
the ears. “Show me what you can do, angel.”

Moving to the center of the room, Nigel sat very still, only

flicking his tail occasionally as he waited for Dorian to get Fruit
Ninja
up and running for him on the Xbox Kinect. The rules of the
game were very simple—just karate chop the hell out of some fruit. It
wasn’t as easy as it looked, however.

After setting the difficulty level to the highest it would go, Dorian

placed the controller on top of the console and stepped to the side,
giving Nigel plenty of room to move. Watching the screen intently,
Nigel waited for the first piece of fruit—a watermelon—to appear.
Following the movement with keen attention, he launched himself
into the air, executed a perfect twist, and kicked out with his back left
foot, cleanly slicing the melon in half on the television.

Faster and faster, more fruit appeared, coming at him from all

sides. With feline agility, he jumped, spun, flipped, and kicked, dicing
up fruit like a professional chef at home in his kitchen.

Cheers and applause went up around the room when the last round

ended and the game indicated that he’d beaten his previous high

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score. Shaking his head, Nigel took a moment to lick his paws and
slick his fur before pointing his bottlebrush tail straight up in the air
and sashaying back to his mate. He’d proven his point, and now he
wanted more cuddles.

Cayson didn’t disappoint, either. Settling down on the sofa beside

Brier, he held his arms open, catching Nigel when he jumped up in
the man’s lap. “That was something else. You really are a ninja kitty,
huh?”

It was truer than the guy realized, because in human form, Nigel

really sucked at that damn game. Since he couldn’t answer verbally in
his feline form, he just snuggled down in his mate’s arms and purred.
He’d have to shift back soon and play host, but just then, he was
perfectly content right where he was.

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Chapter Twelve


His temples throbbed painfully as he disconnected the call and

shoved his cell phone back into his pocket.

“Who was that?” If the look on his face was any indication, Nigel

already knew the answer to that question.

“I have to go into work tonight.” Everyone had already left except

for him and Brier, and Cayson had been looking forward to some time
alone with his mate and his son once they were finished cleaning up
the kitchen.

“Again?” Nigel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Okay,” he said after a significant pause. “I’ll take Brier back to your
place and keep him company until you get home.”

“I can take care of myself,” Brier argued. He probably would have

said more, but Nigel held his hand up, cutting him off.

“I never said that you couldn’t. I just figured you’d be bored out

there in the middle of nowhere by yourself. I see I was wrong.” Then
he pushed up on his toes, brushed his lips over Cayson’s jawline, and
smiled—even if it was a bit wobbly. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“That’s it?” He should have just let it go and been grateful that

Nigel wasn’t going to make a big deal about it. Unfortunately, it all
just seemed a little too easy. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“What do you want me to say? You have to do your job. I’ll just

talk to you tomorrow.”

The sadness in Nigel’s eyes almost killed him, but what could he

do about it? When the boss called, Cayson went running. That’s how
it had to be. However much he hated it, no matter how many times he
wished it could be different—he was trapped.

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“It’s cool, Dad. We’ll just hang out at the house.” Brier used his

cane to push to his feet and smiled brightly at Nigel. “Sorry if I came
off as an ungrateful jerk. I really didn’t mean it that way, and I think it
would be cool if you wanted to veg on the couch with me.”

Some of the discontentment left Nigel’s eyes, and he returned the

smile with a little bob of his head. “Yeah, I’d like that. Just let me
pack a couple of things.”

His car had been repaired and was currently sitting in his

driveway, but Cayson wasn’t convinced of its reliability. Pressing the
keys to his pickup into Nigel’s hands, he gave him a stern look and
shook his head fractionally when his mate opened his mouth to argue.
“Just take it. I’ll drive your car to work.”

Apparently he needed to improve on his no-nonsense look,

because, of course, Nigel argued with him anyway. “That’s really not
necessary. My car is running better than it has since I bought it. We’ll
be fine.”

“Actually, I think we should take Dad’s truck,” Brier chimed in.

“It’ll be a lot easier for me to get in and out of than your car.”

Looking over Nigel’s shoulder, Cayson gave his son a grateful

smile, receiving a casual shrug in return, as though Brier was telling
him it wasn’t a big deal. It was to Cayson, though. The two most
important people in his life were with him in the room, and he’d been
more nervous than he’d let on that there would be tension between
them. For once, being proven wrong was a great feeling.

“You guys be careful. Get home and stay put. There’s supposed to

be another storm moving in tonight.”

“Yes, Dad,” Brier answered him sarcastically.
“I know this is hard for you to accept, but we will be just fine

without you, sweetheart.” Nigel patted his arm and smirked up at him,
mocking his concern for their welfare.

He’d played nice, given Nigel a chance to advance their

relationship at his own pace. Maybe it was time Cayson asserted
himself and reminded his mate who was alpha. Dropping his voice

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and allowing the authority to slip into his tone, he bent closer to his
lover, pressing his lips right next to Nigel’s ear.

“I suggest you take some work to the house. You’ll need it when I

get off work.”

Satisfied that the innuendo was interpreted clearly when Nigel

shivered and gasped, Cayson smiled wickedly, kissed the side of his
neck, and fished the keys to Nigel’s car from his mate’s pocket—
lingering a little longer than strictly necessary.

“Oh, gag! You two get a room!”
Nigel’s face flushed at Brier’s teasing, but Cayson just chuckled

as he backed away toward the door. “Have fun tonight. I’ll see you
both in the morning.”

His good mood lasted all the way to the convenience store that sat

atop Ironrock PCC. Normally, he wouldn’t receive his assignment
until he’d arrived at work and therefore would have needed to swing
by his house and dress in uniform. When the call came earlier, it was
clearly stated that he’d be working patrol on Block Red tonight. No
need for a uniform if he was just going to shift.

Parking Nigel’s bucket of bolts in his usual place beneath the

security lamp behind the building, he climbed out of the car and
momentarily thought about leaving the keys in the thing with the
doors unlocked. Having the piece of crap stolen would actually be a
favor, but in the end, he decided Nigel probably wouldn’t feel the
same way.

After locking the doors and pocketing the keys, he strolled

casually to the small utility building built of white cinderblocks.
Under normal circumstances, the structure would have housed the
circuit breakers for the store and parking lot. In this case, it was the
entrance to the stairwell that led belowground to the security doors of
Ironrock.

Rounding his shoulders against the early March breeze, he

grabbed the metal doorknob and held perfectly still while the sensors
hidden inside scanned his fingerprints. An ultrasonic beep sounded,

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too high-pitched for human ears, and Cayson opened the door,
hurrying inside the utility building.

Once inside, he went through the process all over again but also

had to scan his retina to gain entrance to the wrought iron door that
barred the stairwell. One of the nice things about having a prison
located underground was that there was only one way in and one way
out. If one of their prisoners escaped, there was only one direction for
him to go, and he wouldn’t get far before half a dozen guards were on
him.

Once he cleared the last step, bright, blinding lights flipped on,

swirling around his body and scanning him from head to toe before
the heavy, steel double doors slid apart, revealing the first guard he’d
see for the night.

“Hello, Downs. Badge?”
“Damn it!” His security identification was still in his pickup. The

last thing he wanted to do was drive all the way back to Nigel’s house
to get it.

“You remember your clearance number?”
Cayson rattled off the numbers and letters at once.
The guard dipped his head, scribbled on the paper attached to his

clipboard, and pushed a button to open the doors. “Watch yourself
tonight, Downs.”

It was common for Ryans to offer him some kind of warning

before he started his shift, but this time, it felt different. “Did
something happen?”

“Nope. Just sayin’.”
Eyeing the guard for another moment, Cayson finally nodded and

stepped through the door, waiting as always for it to clang closed
behind him. The noise level coming from the different blocks was
almost deafening, hitting him all at once and making him wince.
Shouts, growls, howls, and other assorted bestial sounds echoed off
the cement walls and high ceilings until Cayson’s ears were ringing.

“What the hell is going on?”

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“I don’t know. It’s been like this for hours,” a very disheveled-

looking guard answered him. Cayson didn’t recognize the guy, so he
had to assume he was new. In their profession, the fatality rate was
high, so it wasn’t unusual to see fresh faces at least once a month.

It also wasn’t uncommon for the inmates to be in a state of high

agitation. Normally, it went by blocks and correlated to the moon
phases, though. So when it reached this stage of intensity, it put
Cayson on edge.

Nodding to the new guard, he marched directly to the locker

room, disrobed quickly, and knelt down on the floor to shift. Once the
change was finished, he shook off the disorientation, slipped through
the doggie door, and trotted toward Cellblock Red—the patrol duty
that every guard dreaded.

Vampires were dangerous. Everyone knew that. It was the

werewolves, however, who had carved out a place for themselves as
the most vicious and uncontrollable of the paranormal world. As with
any race, there were definitely the good guys, but with werewolves,
the thuggish vastly outnumbered the honorable ones.

Entering the lower level of his block, Cayson’s pointed ears

twitched as the noise level increased. He’d seen three guards
patrolling the upper portion of the block—two wolf shifters and the
Rottweiler shifter, Ruston. On his level, there were two guards
present—a cougar shifter and a vampire. While the number of guards
didn’t seem out of place, the presence of the vampire and cougar was
strange.

With their pack telepathy, canine shifters were always grouped

together for patrols. In his shifted form, he couldn’t communicate
with the vampire or the cougar. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to.

Cayson hadn’t personally met the new warden yet, but if the

changes happening at PCC Cambridge were any indication, the guy
was either careless or just plain stupid. With things continuing the
way they were, someone was going to end up hurt—or dead—and
that someone could very easily be Cayson.

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Keeping close to the railing and away from the cell doors, he

padded down the long corridor, keeping his eyes, ears, and nose alert
for any sign of impending danger. There was something in the air,
something he couldn’t put a name to, and just like earlier in the week
when everything had been too quiet, it made him nervous.

The moment the cougar saw him, he turned quickly and slinked

up the stairs to the second level, leaving Cayson alone with the
vampire. Cash Gavin. He’d spoken with the guy on a couple of
different occasions and for some reason always found the idea of a
cowboy vampire to be oddly amusing.

“Downs,” he greeted in his slow southern drawl that spoke more

of ranches in Texas than the cornfields of Indiana. “I don’t like this.”

Cayson agreed, but his Doberman didn’t exactly have the ability

of human speech. Instead of a verbal acknowledgement, he made a
jerky movement of his head and chuffed, somewhere between a bark
and a cough.

“You don’t get it, do you?” The vampire lifted his head a little

higher and continued marching past Cayson. “Don’t stop.”

Unsure of what was going on, and hating his lack of control over

the situation, Cayson prowled down to the last cell and turned to make
the reverse trek, meeting Gavin in the middle. He slowed as they
neared each other but didn’t look in the man’s direction. Whatever
Gavin wanted to tell him, he obviously didn’t want anyone to know
he was saying it.

“We need to get out of here, Downs. Like right fucking now.
That got his attention in a big way. Cayson stopped in his tracks,

tilted his head, and whined softly, wanting more information.

“This ain’t right. I can’t let them do this, but I’m not looking

forward to gettin’ my ass killed, either.”

Killed? What the fuck was he talking about?
“I don’t know what you did to piss off the big man, but you’ve

been marked, buddy.”

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The thought had barely registered when a buzzer sounded, hinges

creaked, and metal scraped together as the cell doors on the entire
lower level slid open—all eighteen of them.

“Well, fuck me running, darlin’, but it looks like we’re in the shit

now.”

The vampire certainly had a way with words, but Cayson doubted

they were going to be able to talk their way out of this one. As if
perfectly choreographed, eighteen big, snarling, pissed-off
werewolves stepped out of their cages and turned as one to pin
Cayson with their yellow gazes.

The fact that there were so many wasn’t even his biggest concern

as he crouched low and bared his teeth, preparing to fight for his life
if that’s what it came to—and he had a pretty good reason to believe it
would. No, what worried him most was the fact that it wasn’t a full
moon and every single one of his adversaries was in his shifted form.

Eighteen enormous, furry beasts with razor-sharp teeth and lethal

claws advanced on him in a synchronized unit. They circled him and
Gavin, moving together as though they were all connected by some
invisible rope. When one turned, the werewolf across from him
mirrored his movement. If one stopped, they all stopped.

While they continued to circle, they made no move to advance

any closer. The ring never grew smaller, never closed in around him
and the vampire. Cayson wasn’t sure if he was being taunted or if
they really didn’t want to attack him. He hoped for the latter but, since
he wasn’t stupid, knew instinctively it was the former.

A high-pitched whistle pierced his eardrums until he felt they

would bleed. Whining loudly, he shook his head several times, trying
to make the pain disappear. His momentary distraction was all the
advantage his attackers needed, however.

The next several minutes passed in a blur of fur, claws, and jagged

teeth. Talons ripped at his back, chest, and flanks. Fangs gnawed at
his neck, legs, and ears. Blood spilled from his wounds, pooling
beneath him so that his paws slipped on the slick tiles.

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Unable to gain traction or leverage, Cayson had no way to push

off from the floor. His powerful hind legs were useless, and even
when he was able to bite one wolf, three more were on him in an
instant.

With his supernatural speed and agility, Gavin was having much

more success than Cayson, but he was still fighting a losing battle.
Where were the other guards? Why wasn’t anyone coming to
neutralize the situation? Where were the lookouts with their
tranquilizer guns?

The questions raced through his mind, but Cayson already knew

the answers. He was meant to die here. For whatever reason, someone
wanted him gone, and they wouldn’t stop until the goal was
accomplished.

The world around him grew dimmer, the pain began to fade, and

he floated somewhere on the edge of consciousness as the
werewolves tossed his limp body around like a hacky sack. Then
suddenly, everything stopped. He was dropped to the floor carelessly,
discarded like an old chew toy, and the beasts simply sauntered back
into the cells and waited for the doors to slide shut.

A figure crouched beside him, but Cayson couldn’t focus to make

out who it was. He thought perhaps it was the vampire, but the scent
was different, more earthy. Whoever loomed over him, it definitely
wasn’t Gavin.

“Oh, my, looks like you’ve had a little accident.” Large knuckles

landed against his temple, nudging his head to the side before letting
it fall back to its original position. “Stay out of my way, Mr. Downs. I
assure you that I’m not someone you want as an enemy.”

Cayson didn’t know what he’d done to wrong this stranger, but

then again, bullies didn’t really need a reason to be sadistic assholes.
They thrived on the pain of others, and there was every likelihood that
Cayson was only the first of several examples that would be made
within the prison.

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Scalding, white-hot pain lanced through the back of his skull, and

he could practically feel his flesh sizzling as he half yelped, half
growled. “Let this be a reminder, pup. Don’t fuck with me.”

The way he uttered the word “pup” set off all kinds of alarm bells

in Cayson’s mind, but he was too woozy to follow the train of
thought. Perhaps once he’d healed, he’d be able to puzzle it out, but
just then, he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and let go of the
sickening pain.

“Get him out of here,” the man ordered. “And someone clean up

this mess. The vampires will be in a frenzy.”

Footsteps trailed off until the sound died away completely. Just

when he thought he’d finally pass out, more pain ricocheted through
his body when strong arms slid under him, lifting him into the air.

“I know it hurts, man, but we gotta get you home. Just try to hold

on for a while longer,” Gavin said quietly, comfortingly.

It was the last thing Cayson heard before the darkness finally

claimed him.

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Chapter Thirteen


“You seriously make sex toys for a living?” Brier sat up a little

straighter on the sofa, looking properly impressed.

Nigel smirked and bobbed his head. “Yep. It was just kind of a

side project in college to make some extra cash. Thaddeus had this
roommate who was a seriously kinky guy, and he was complaining
one night about the lack of imagination of the toys in the local shops.
That’s kind of what got the idea going, and Atticus rolled with it from
there.”

“That is totally cool. I wish I could do something like that.”
“What is it that you want to do after high school?”
“I haven’t really given it much thought.” The smile slid off of

Brier’s face, and he sank back into the cushions. “My grandparents
pitched a fit when I wanted to attend a regular high school like a
normal person. They finally gave in, but there is no way they’d let me
go to college.”

“Have you talked to your dad about it?” It probably wasn’t any of

his business, and he should stay out of it, but he couldn’t stop himself
from asking.

“Nah. I mean, you see how he is. He’d just agree with my

grandparents, so what’s the point?”

“Maybe he wouldn’t. He wants you to have an education. You

should ask him. What do you have to lose by asking?”

Brier seemed to consider it for a long time before his smile

returned. “Yeah, I guess I could ask. I mean, I’ll be eighteen soon,
and it’s not like they can stop me. There’s just the problem of money.
I’ve never even had a job.”

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Crap, he was about to overstep so many boundaries, but hopefully

he’d be able to make Cayson understand that it was the right thing.
Brier wasn’t a little boy anymore, and he didn’t need a constant
babysitter.

Nigel knew that Cayson and Brier’s grandparents loved him and

just wanted to protect him, but maybe they were too close to see how
much he’d grown. They weren’t doing him any favors by constantly
sheltering him. At some point, he was going to be alone in the world
and on his own. Maybe it was time everyone let him make his own
choices and lead the life he wanted.

But was that Nigel’s decision to make? Brier wasn’t his son. Hell,

he’d just met the kid. Still, if he didn’t speak up for him, who would?
“Really, what do you want to do after you graduate?”

“Honestly? I want my own place.” A little sigh huffed from

Brier’s lips as he pushed a hand through his blond locks. “I want
everyone to just leave me alone and stop hovering around me, acting
like every move I make is going to lead to catastrophe.”

“That sounds reasonable.” There, that was a neutral response,

right?

“I just want to be normal, Nigel. I really don’t know if I even want

to go to college, but I want the option. I want it to be my choice.”

There was so much vehemence in Brier’s tone, it was clear that

this was the first time he’d ever talked about it—the first time anyone
had ever asked him his opinion. “What else do you want?”

“I want to have a normal job and a normal house and a normal

life. I want to find my mate, but then part of me worries that he’ll be
just like all the rest. That he’ll just see the cane and the way my hands
twitch and spasm sometimes and that’s it. I want what you have with
my dad.”

What exactly did Brier see when he watched Cayson and Nigel

together? Then something else he’d said hit Nigel, pushing away
everything else. “He?”

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Brier ducked his head and peeked up at Nigel through his long,

dark lashes. “Yeah. Well, I hope it’s a he.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t told anyone.”
“No.”
Nigel motioned to himself and chuckled. “I’m thinking your dad

will understand. Obviously.”

Brier laughed as well. “Until a few days ago, I had no idea he

swung that way.”

“He’s never been with another man?” The news worried him.

What if he was just a passing phase for Cayson?

“Maybe before I was born, but he hasn’t been with anyone since

mom died.” A shaky hand landed on Nigel’s forearm and squeezed.
“Dad adores you. Anyone can see it just by the way he looks at you.
Don’t worry, okay?”

Nigel didn’t know what to say to that, and luckily he didn’t have

to come up with something lame. “Is someone here?”

“That can’t be Dad.” Brier’s head whipped toward the door and

the sound of the vehicle speeding down the driveway. “It’s only been
an hour or so since he left.”

Tires skidded to a halt, and a car door opened, followed by hurried

footsteps, but they didn’t move toward the porch.

“Stay here.” Nigel pushed up from the sofa and crept across the

room. Pulling the curtain to the side, he looked out through the
triangular window near the top of the door and gasped at what he saw
in the illumination of the porch light.

“What?” Brier demanded. “Who is it?”
“Just stay there.” Wrenching the door open, Nigel hurried out onto

the porch, his whole body shaking as he watched a stranger march
toward him, carrying a limp and bloody Doberman pinscher in his
arms. “Oh, gods, what happened to him?”

“Invite me in,” the guy ordered, leaping up onto the porch as

though he wasn’t carrying a hundred-pound dog in his arms.

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Vampire. The scent was faint in the cold night wind, barely

detectable. If not for his enhanced senses, he probably wouldn’t have
caught it. With the number of gaping wounds covering Cayson’s body
and the blood matting his short fur, Nigel didn’t exactly have time to
debate the wisdom of inviting an unknown paranormal into his mate’s
house.

Which meant he couldn’t invite the man inside. It wasn’t his

home, and he had no authority there.

“Come in,” Brier said from behind him, his tone tight and

strained.

“Yeah, come in.” Nigel rushed in ahead of the newcomer, leading

the way toward Cayson’s bedroom. “Bring him in here.”

“Dad? What the fuck?”
“Brier, don’t say fuck.”
“What the fuck happened to him?”
Now the kid was just being an ass. “Get some warm water and

towels.”

Brier snorted at him. “How do you expect me to do that?”
“Just shut it,” Nigel snapped at him. “You want to be

independent? Start acting like it.”

There was a tense moment where Brier just glared at him. Then

the look passed, replaced with one of determination, and he used his
cane to push up from the couch. “I’ll get it.”

“Thank you.” With a curt nod, Nigel rushed into the bedroom and

crawled up on the mattress where the vampire had placed his mate.
“What happened to him?” His hands trembled as he ran them through
the air over Cayson’s body, unsure of where to touch him.

“He was set up. I don’t know why, but it ain’t right. I couldn’t just

leave him to fight all those werewolves by himself.”

For the first time, Nigel really looked at the vampire, taking in the

healing cuts and bite marks that marred his skin, the ripped and
tattered uniform that hung off him. Whoever he was, he’d fought for

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Cayson, stood beside him when everyone else had turned a blind eye.
“Thank you for helping him,” he whispered.

“I’m Cash, Cash Gavin, and it was the right thing to do.”
Yes, it was, but in Nigel’s experience, people usually did the easy

thing, not the right one. “Who did this?”

“The warden. I heard him tell Downs that it was a warning not to

fuck with him. What did he do to the warden?”

Nigel shook his head slowly. He didn’t even know who the hell

the warden was. “I don’t know. I really don’t know, but I intend to
find out.”

“No offense, but what can you do, little one?”
Tossing Cash a level look, Nigel resisted the urge to growl. “I

may be small, but I have friends who aren’t. Does the name Salem
Constantine mean anything to you?”

Cash’s eyes widened, and he actually took a small step back.

“How do you know the king?”

“One of my best friends is mated to him.”
“I have the water.” Brier shuffled into the room carrying a shallow

bowl of water. “I’ll get the towels.”

Cash hurried to take the bowl and set it on the nightstand while

Brier made his way into the bathroom to find the towels. “The warden
poured silver into one of the bite marks on the back of his neck. We
need to flush it out.”

“Why does he do that? Cayson came home like this before with

silver in his wounds. He said something about training.”

“Yeah, but this was different. When we train, it’s no more than

three at a time—usually werewolves, vampires, or a combination of
the two. They put silver in the wounds to build up immunity to it.
That’s not what this was about, though.”

“You said no more than three.” Nigel looked up just in time to

catch the washcloth Brier threw at him. After nodding his thanks, he
dipped the cloth into the warm water on the nightstand and began

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dabbing at Cayson’s wounds, swabbing the blood away from the
black-and-tan fur. “How many were there this time?”

“Eighteen.”
He paused in his ministrations and closed his eyes, taking a deep

breath as he tried to control his runaway emotions. “Brier, I need you
to get my cell phone out of the living room. Speed dial one and ask
for Atticus. Tell him I need him and Salem here now.”

With the order issued, Nigel returned to cleaning his mate’s

wounds, working diligently to remove the silver from the gash at the
base of his skull. It would be so much easier if he didn’t have to work
around all the fur, though.

“He lost a lot of blood, but he should be able to shift back once he

wakes up,” Cash said as though reading his mind.

“Cayson, c’mon, sweetheart. I need you to wake up and shift,

okay?” He spoke softly, cooing into his lover’s cropped ear. “His ears
look normal when he’s human.”

Cash chuckled quietly and shook his head. “I’m bettin’ he doesn’t

have a tail, either.”

Well, that was true. He would have definitely noticed if the man

had a tail, not that the Doberman on the bed had much of one anyway.
He just didn’t understand why. As a shifter, Cayson wasn’t a working
dog, and there was no need for his canine to be altered in such a way.
“Did they do this at the prison?”

“Yeah.” Cash ducked his head and scuffed the toe of his boot

across the carpet. “They thought the floppy ears and long tail weren’t
a very intimidating look for a guard.”

Squeezing his eyes closed once again, Nigel inhaled deeply

through his nose and let it slowly out through his trembling lips. He
seriously doubted they put him out for the procedure and couldn’t
even imagine the pain Cayson went through.

A soft whimper pulled him out of his contemplation, and Cayson

lifted his head from Nigel’s lap to lick at the side of his face. The guy

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was lucky to be alive, and he was trying to comfort Nigel. It was so
typically Cayson that Nigel couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey, big guy.” He rubbed his cheek over Cayson’s furry one and

sighed. “I know it hurts, but I need you to shift back, okay?”

Cayson answered with a short whine, dropped his head, and went

still except for the quivering of his muscles as he began to transform
right there on the bed. It took much longer than it should have, but
after several starts and stops, Cayson’s long, nude frame stretched out
on the bed with his blond head resting in Nigel’s lap.

“Damn,” Cash breathed.
Nigel understood the sentiment. Without the dark pelt to obscure

their view, the injuries looked much worse. “Close your eyes.”

“I can handle it.”
“That’s not it. Just…close your eyes or turn around.” No one

needed to see Cayson naked but him.

“I’ve seen naked men before, and you need help. His modesty is

just gonna have to suffer, friend.”

“Nigel. My name is Nigel.” The vampire made a good point, but

that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Atticus and Salem are on their way,” Brier announced from the

doorway, his face going pale as he surveyed his father’s wounds.

“He’s going to be okay, Brier. I’m not going to let anything

happen to him.” He’d never been anyone’s protector or champion
before, never had reason to be, but this was different. This was his
mate, and Nigel would do whatever it took to make sure something
like this didn’t happen again.

“I’m fine, Brier.” Cayson’s voice was croaky and weak, but at

least he was awake and talking. “Just wait in the living room so you
can invite our guests in.”

“Dad?”
“Really, I’m okay. Go wait for Atticus to get here.”

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Though he didn’t look convinced, Brier pressed his lips together

and exited the room, the muffled thuds of his cane tracking his
progress down the hallway.

“He’s just worried about you. We both are.”
“I need to get in the shower and sleep. That’s all. I’ll be healed in

a couple of hours.”

“Are you mad at me?” Nigel asked in shock. It certainly looked

and sounded that way as Cayson pushed up from the bed with a low
groan and stumbled toward the bathroom door.

“You shouldn’t have told anyone.”
“Excuse me?” Being a macho alpha with more pride than brains

was one thing, but Cayson was just being a total prick now.

“I can take care of this.”
“Obviously you can’t.” Nigel knew it was exactly the wrong thing

to say the minute the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late
to take them back.

“I think you need to leave.”
“And I think you need to stop trying to push me away every time

things get hard.” Jumping off the bed, he pushed past Cash and
dipped under Cayson’s arm, offering his support to get the grumbly
shifter into the shower. “Just let me help you.”

“Wait.” Cash stepped forward and slid Cayson’s other arm over

his shoulders. “You’ve got a feisty one here, Downs. I wouldn’t give
him too much lip.”

Cayson grunted, but the corners of his lips twitched, appeasing

Nigel for the time being. The big guy needed to understand that Nigel
was there to stay. He wasn’t going to run the first time things didn’t
go as planned, and none of Cayson’s growling was going to change
that.

Maybe they hadn’t been together long, but when it was right, there

was no fighting it. Cayson would get that through his thick head if
Nigel had to beat it in there with a rubber mallet. It made sense that
his mate would be resistant. Cayson was used to being the protector,

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and it was damaging to his ego to need to lean on someone. Well, his
ego would get over it, and so could he.

“I’ve got it from here,” he told Cash once the shower was running

and they had Cayson propped up against the tiles so that the water
flowed over him. While he appreciated the vampire’s assistance, he
was still having jealousy issues with the guy seeing his mate nude—
especially now that he was all wet and slippery.

“Do ya want me to stick around for a bit, or should I just go?”
“Please stay. I’ll yell if I need any help getting him out of the

shower.”

Him can hear you,” Cayson grumbled. “I’m fine, Nigel.”
“Oh, just can it. You can be fine when I say so.”
Cayson cracked one eyelid open and smiled crookedly. “You’re

sexy when you get all bossy. Come here, you.”

“And that’s my cue,” Cash said with a chuckle as he backed out of

the room.

Nigel just rolled his eyes. “You are incorrigible.”
“No, I’m horny.”
“You’re hurt and need to rest.”
“I need to get my dick sucked,” Cayson countered, sliding his

lower lip out in a pout. “That would make me feel better.”

Stepping into the shower, clothes and all, Nigel reached for a

clean washcloth and the liquid soap. “Let me take care of you for
now. We’ll talk about that blow job when you stop bleeding
everywhere.”

Smiling wickedly, Cayson turned, spread his legs, and pressed his

palms flat against the tiled wall. “Deal.”

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Chapter Fourteen


Cayson wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss the breath out of his mate

or wring his neck. Not only had Atticus and Salem come, but they’d
apparently felt the need to call in reinforcements. Now his living
room was filled with every one of Nigel’s anxious and concerned
friends.

If the concern had been only for Nigel, Cayson could have

handled that. He was very used to dealing with his own matters,
though. To have so many people there to support him and ready to
jump to his rescue was strange. He just hadn’t decided if it was
strange-good or strange-bad.

“Okay, so who is this warden jerk?” Cedric crossed his arms over

his chest and arched an eyebrow at Cayson as though this was
somehow his fault.

Hell, maybe it was. Somewhere, somehow, he’d done something

to cross the warden. “I don’t know him personally. Tonight was the
first time I’d ever met him, and I wouldn’t exactly call it a friendly
introduction.”

“Van Macon,” Cash informed the room while giving Cayson a

look that said he was not amused.

“Macon?” Nigel’s eyes rounded, and he burrowed in closer to

Cayson’s side.

His wounds were clean and healing, thanks to his mate, but he

was still a bit tender, and the action caused him to wince. Getting
ripped open twice in one week was not an experience he cared to
repeat. His supernatural healing would ensure that he was as good as

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new in a couple of hours, but he hated the feeling of being weak and
vulnerable while he waited to regain his strength.

Wrapping an arm around his lover’s shoulders, Cayson rubbed his

fingertips up and down Nigel’s arm and kissed the top of his head,
breathing in his scent. Freshly showered and changed into dry
clothes—cotton sleep pants and a light-blue T-shirt—Nigel smelled
so good that it was easy to ignore the pain when he was so close.

“Do you know him?” Cash inquired.
“Maybe.” It took a few seconds for Nigel to bolster his courage,

but after a couple of deep breaths, he lifted his head and looked up
into Cayson’s eyes. “Drew’s last name is Macon. This is all my fault,
and I’m so sorry.”

“Drew is a certifiable prick, and if the warden is his father, I see

where he gets it from.” Cupping the side of Nigel’s face, Cayson
ignored his sore muscles and bent to brush their lips together. “You
didn’t do anything wrong, and none of this is your fault.”

“How can you say that? If I hadn’t been so desperate for someone

to pay attention to me, I’d have seen right through Drew’s lies. I did
this. I let him use me. I let him get into my head. Everything that has
happened is because of me.”

“Stop it,” Cayson said firmly. “I’m not going to listen to this

nonsense. Drew Macon doesn’t deserve to even breathe the same air
as you. Whatever is going on, whatever reason the warden has it out
for me, is because Drew is a sick and twisted asshole.”

“He’s right,” Dorian agreed quietly from the other end of the sofa,

where he perched on the padded arm. “Drew drugged you, lied to you,
and manipulated you. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but it’s the
reality. That doesn’t make any of this your fault, though. Let it go,
Nigel. Blaming yourself isn’t going to change anything, and it doesn’t
help us figure out how to fix it, either.”

Nigel didn’t look relieved or even convinced, but he didn’t argue,

either. “Salem, is there anything you can do?”

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The vampire king scrubbed both hands over his face and sighed.

“Probably not, I’m afraid. I have no jurisdiction over the shifters or
the International Paranormal Corrections branch. Even if Macon was
a vampire, I’d have to go through miles of red tape with the IPC
before I could do anything.”

“Well, that sucks,” Cedric replied with a huff as he flopped back

in his chair.

“I might reside over an entire race, but think of me more like the

governor of a state, where IPC is more like the Supreme Court.”

“Surely there is something you can do, love.” Atticus rubbed his

hand up and down Salem’s arm, giving him a hopeful look. “They
can’t get away with this, but we’re nobodies. We don’t have any
power to stop this.”

As persuasion went, Cayson thought it was a pretty damn good

speech. Either Salem bought it hook, line, and sinker or he was just a
sucker for his mate’s pouty lip. Glancing down at Nigel where he was
curled into his side, Cayson had a feeling it was probably Atticus who
held the most sway over the king. There wasn’t anything Cayson
wouldn’t do for his angel.

Even when he was a complete dick, growled and snarled like an

idiot, tried to push the man away, and retreated into himself, Nigel
was still there to pull him back from the brink. If he had to fall—and
he was already teetering precariously on the edge—Cayson couldn’t
think of a better person to catch him.

“Okay, asteri mou. I’ll see what I can do, but it’ll take some

time.” Salem pulled Atticus between his thighs, wrapped his arms
around him, and cradled the back of his head lovingly. “I can never
say no to you,” he whispered.

“That’s great!” Brenner and Thaddeus answered in unison.

Though they looked nothing alike, their personalities and mannerisms
reminded Cayson of twins. Even if they didn’t have a clue what they
were talking about, the delivery was always enthusiastic. It was kind
of cute, but he doubted he’d win points from anyone by saying so.

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“Well, I say we go down to that coffee shop tomorrow and just

kick Drew’s ass.”

Cayson narrowed his eyes at Cedric’s declaration. “And I say

that’s a stupid idea that’s going to get someone hurt.”

“Cut him some slack,” Cash defended the little shifter. “He’s got a

point. Maybe instead of meandering around the issue, we should just
face it head-on.”

There was a split second where Cayson was sure the vampire had

lost his mind. Then he noticed the way Cash was looking at Cedric—
as if he was the only person in the room and the most beautiful thing
he’d ever seen.

Since he was positive he wore the same expression every time he

looked at Nigel, Cayson knew exactly what it meant, even if Cash and
Cedric hadn’t figured it out yet. Well, maybe the guard had figured it
out, but Cedric appeared completely oblivious as he continued to stare
daggers at Cayson.

“Why is this guy so obsessed with Nigel anyway? That is,

assuming his ex is behind all of this.” It was the first time Brier had
spoken since their impromptu meeting had begun, but it was a good
question and one Cayson had wondered himself.

“I honestly don’t know,” Nigel answered quietly. “He never asked

me for anything. He never tried to make me do anything. Other than
wanting to claim me, he really didn’t even seem that interested.”

A rumble started in Cayson’s chest and burst through his lips in a

snarl before he could cut it off. Just the thought of Drew being that
close to his mate made him see red. Yes, he was jealous and
possessive. He understood that. It wasn’t like it was going to change
anytime soon, though.

“Do you think this has anything to do with your uncle?” Atticus

asked Salem. “I don’t see how the two are related, but the timing is
suspicious.”

“Who is your uncle?” Dorian demanded, looking even more

brooding than usual.

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“My uncle was Prince Grafton Constantine.”
“Was?” Cayson had no idea who they were talking about, but he

had a feeling it didn’t matter since the vampire was no longer among
the living.

“He had a little accident involving a pissed-off hybrid and an

overly protective vampire,” Atticus answered with a shudder. “I think
I need to tell them.”

“Tell us what?” Nigel pushed up a little straighter on the sofa, his

full attention directed toward his friend. “Who is this guy? What’s
going on, Atty?”

“It’s okay, baby. Tell them.” After a quick kiss, Salem gave his

lover a nudge, turning him so that he faced the rest of the room.

“Grafton Constantine is the vampire who killed our parents and

turned Dorian’s dad. We—well, I—think he might have had
something to do with King Basil’s death as well.”

The room was eerily quiet after the announcement, though the

emotions that passed over the feline shifters in the room spoke louder
than any words. Cayson had heard part of the story from Nigel, but
watching the anger, denial, and grief play over his mate’s face in that
moment was heart wrenching.

Having lost someone he cared about, and almost losing his son as

well, Cayson felt for the other men, but Nigel was his priority. Lifting
the smaller man into his lap, he held him tight and nuzzled against
him, offering comfort in the only way he knew how.

Salem had Atticus in his arms, too, whispering to him while he

stroked his hair. Thaddeus and Brenner held each other, rocking back
and forth while tears streamed down their cheeks. Dorian’s face was
emotionless, his eyes vacant as he stood and marched out the front
door, closing it quietly behind him.

Cedric’s eyes overflowed as well as he pulled his knees to his

chest and sobbed quietly. Dorian obviously wanted to be alone, but it
appeared as though that was the last thing Cedric needed.

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“Cedric, are you okay?” Brier leaned forward in his chair and

grabbed his cane off the floor, obviously preparing to go to the man.

Cayson was damn proud of his boy, but it turned out that Brier’s

efforts weren’t necessary. Before anyone could move or say another
word, Cash was across the small space that separated them and
settling Cedric into his lap while he murmured words of comfort into
his ear.

With an easy smile, Brier nodded once, struggled to his feet, and

began the slow trek to the front door. “I’ll just check on Dorian.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Brier.” Atticus didn’t look

alarmed, just thoughtful. “He’s not really one to accept sympathies or
comfort.”

Brier acknowledged the advice with another dip of his head and

then proceeded through the front door anyway.

“Wonder where he gets his stubbornness from,” Nigel whispered

into the side of Cayson’s neck. “He’s really great. You should be
proud of him.”

“I am.”
“He’s not a little boy anymore, sweetheart.”
No, he wasn’t. Brier was a young man now, and maybe it was

time to loosen the reins. “I’m starting to see that.”

“So, what does Salem’s uncle have to do with Drew?” Cedric

asked after his sniffles had subsided. “Why do you think they’re
connected?”

“I don’t have any concrete evidence.” Atticus sighed and shook

his head. “The timing between Basil being attacked, Grafton trying to
split up me and Salem, and then Drew drugging Nigel—it just all
seems too coincidental to me. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

It sounded a little farfetched to Cayson, but it wouldn’t hurt to

check it out. “Then let’s see what we can find out about Drew
Macon.”

“I could try to talk to him.”

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“Not a fucking chance.” Cayson didn’t mean to be so harsh with

Nigel, but there was no way in hell he was letting his mate anywhere
near that psycho. “We’ll find what we can on him, but you’re not
getting involved.”

“That’s not really your decision to make.”
“Nigel.”
“Cayson.”
“Guys, please!” Atticus closed his eyes briefly and groaned. “At

the risk of being the bad guy, Cayson’s right. You need to stay away
from Drew.”

“Fine.” Extracting himself from Cayson’s lap, Nigel stomped out

of the room and down the hall, slamming Cayson’s bedroom door.

“Well, that was a little overdramatic.” Cedric wiggled around but

made no effort to remove himself from Cash’s arms. “Drama queen.”

“I heard that!” Nigel screamed from the bedroom.
It wasn’t easy, but Cayson managed to choke his laughter back at

the last second. “I’ll take care of Nigel. The sun will be coming up
soon, so you guys should probably take off. I really don’t want
vampire soufflé on my front porch.”

“Can I give you a ride home, darlin’?”
Cedric peeked up at Cash and smiled shyly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Pushing to his feet, Cayson went around the room, shaking hands

and offering his thanks for everyone’s help. “Tell Brier to lock the
door when he comes inside.” Then he turned on his heels and stalked
back to his bedroom.

His wounds had healed, the soreness was nearly nonexistent, and

he had a mate in need of some special attention.

* * * *


He could help, damn it! He wasn’t a child, though his recent

actions proved otherwise. Nigel still couldn’t believe that he’d
stomped out of the living room like a freaking diva. It wasn’t as

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though he wanted to see Drew again. The man scared the crap out of
him. It wasn’t right for his friends to dive into this endeavor, possibly
risking their safety, while he sat on the sidelines, though.

Everyone was saying their good-byes now, and he wanted to go

see his friends before they left, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave
the room after the way he’d behaved. So, he sat at the foot of the bed
with his hands clenched in his lap and waited for Cayson.

It wasn’t long before muffled footsteps padded down the hall and

the door eased open. Then there he stood, Cayson Downs, all six feet
and six inches of gorgeous perfection. His dark-blue eyes blazed as he
looked Nigel up and down, devouring him with that intense gaze.

Nigel shook, a chill racing up his spine, but he was unable to

move, unable to do anything but continue to stare right back as though
hypnotized. He wasn’t afraid, though. To the very core of his being,
he knew Cayson would never hurt him.

The quiver of his muscles was in anticipation, in deep, all-

consuming desire. His belly clenched, his nostrils flared, and his cock
jerked awake, swelling rapidly until it tented the front of his sleep
pants.

The simple act of Cayson closing the door and locking it made his

breathing speed and his pulse accelerate. Nigel didn’t know how his
mate did these things to him with nothing more than a look, but he
didn’t need to understand it. Some things just couldn’t be explained,
and sometimes, they didn’t need to be.

Strolling casually over to the armchair in the corner of the room,

Cayson eased into it and lounged back, linking his fingers together
over his midsection as he surveyed Nigel. “You’re being a brat.”

Nigel didn’t answer, couldn’t get his tongue to work right to form

the words.

“What you did was rude. Your friends don’t deserve that, Nigel. I

don’t deserve that.”

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Wait a minute. Was he being reprimanded? His behavior had been

immature, yes, but it had been a long time since someone had scolded
him, and it rankled. “That’s not fair.”

“No, I don’t think it was fair, either. We just want you to be safe.”
“While everyone else is out risking their necks. Do you think it

will be easy for Salem to get the information we need? Do you think
it will be safe for him?”

“I’m sure it won’t be, but we’re not talking about Salem.”
“I know my friends. They’re not just going to let this go. Hell,

they’re probably plotting on getting Drew alone right now. I can’t let
them do that.”

Cayson didn’t answer right away but eyed him in a calculating

kind of way. “Stand up.”

The authority in his voice couldn’t be ignored, and Nigel found

himself on his feet before he registered the conscious decision to do
so.

“Did you bring the stuff I asked you to bring?”
“Uh, I forgot.” He’d been nervous about spending time alone with

Brier, and it had completely slipped his mind.

“That’s unfortunate.”
Nigel’s gut clenched uncomfortably, and he dropped his head so

that his chin rested on his chest. “I’m sorry, Cayson,” he mumbled
dejectedly. He was always screwing stuff up. No wonder his friends
didn’t want his help with something as important as catching and
punishing the bad guy.

“Nigel, look at me.”
It was the second time Cayson had called him by his given name,

and Nigel didn’t like it. He liked being Cayson’s angel. It made him
feel special. Lifting his head, he fidgeted nervously as he looked at his
mate. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Come here.”
If this was a game, Nigel didn’t want to play anymore. Moving

with a confidence he didn’t feel, he stopped just in front of his lover

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and fisted his hands at his sides, waiting for Cayson to make the next
move.

“It’s unfortunate because I was looking forward to playing with

you. I wanted to watch your eyes glaze over and skin flush as I drove
you crazy with those toys. That doesn’t mean I’m disappointed. I
don’t need objects to make you moan, angel.”

Cayson’s tone dripped with arousal, and his voice had gone low

and husky by the time he finished speaking. As though proving the
man correct, Nigel moaned when his cock jerked, leaking liberal
amounts of pre-cum against the front of his pants. If Cayson kept
talking to him like that, he could probably come without even being
touched.

Arching his hips up off the cushion, Cayson pushed his sweats

down his legs and kicked them off his feet. His shirt was the next to
go, leaving nothing to block Nigel’s view of all that gloriously tan
skin. Saliva pooled on his tongue, and he swallowed reflexively,
wanting to kiss, lick, and bite every inch of Cayson’s rock-hard body.

“You’re shaking, baby.” His big hand wrapped around the thick

length of his cock and stroked from root to tip. “Is this what you
want? Tell me what you want, angel.”

“I want to suck your cock.” Wait. No. Why the fuck did I say that?

He’d never given oral before, didn’t have the first clue about how to
pleasure a man with his mouth. What on earth had compelled him to
blurt out such a thing?

“Undress and place your clothes on the dresser.”
Once again, Nigel moved automatically, doing as he was told

without thought. Once his clothes were folded and placed neatly to
the side, he returned to stand in front of Cayson, unsure of how to
proceed.

“On your knees, baby.”
Nigel lowered to his knees hesitantly, staring at Cayson’s thick

cock the entire time. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

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“Yes, you do. You know what I like.” Cayson caressed the side of

his cheek before threading his fingers through Nigel’s hair. “Do what
feels right.”

He knew what Cayson liked? What did that mean? Taking a deep

breath, Nigel tried to clear his mind of his nervous, self-doubting
thoughts. As his breath rushed out on a whoosh, the warm air fanned
over the head of Cayson’s cock, causing the length to flex and a bead
of pre-cum to trickle from the slit.

Cayson enjoyed the tight, wet suction of his inner walls, so it

stood to reason that the same would apply with his mouth. Fisting the
base of his lover’s dick, Nigel squeezed in quick pulses, mimicking
the way his body tightened around the shaft when Cayson was buried
deep inside him.

The strangled groan that spilled from Cayson’s mouth was

encouraging, so Nigel continued working the base with his fist,
adding a little twist and stroking just the lower half. Licking his lips to
moisten them, he dipped his head, sucking just the tip into his mouth
and tonguing the slit, lapping at the clear liquid that pooled there.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” Cayson’s hand clenched in his hair, and he

arched up out of his seat.

Relaxing his jaw, Nigel allowed the hard flesh to slide into his

mouth, moaning at the taste and feel. This wasn’t so bad. He could do
this. In fact, he wanted to do this. Clamping his lips around his mate’s
erection, he took him farther into his mouth, amazed at how he could
feel Cayson’s cock pulse against his tongue.

With hand, tongue, and lips working in tandem, Nigel set up a

steady tempo, completely losing himself in the task of pleasuring his
partner. Why had he been afraid of this when it made him feel so
powerful? He might be the one on his knees, but Cayson was
completely at his mercy.

Ignoring his own aching erection, he slid his other hand up the

inside of Cayson’s thigh and cradled the man’s heavy sac in his palm,
massaging his balls and rolling them gently with his fingers.

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“That’s it, baby. Right there. Oh, fuck.” Cayson growled and

palmed Nigel’s temples with both hands, urging him to move faster.

Determined to send the man over the edge, to feel Cayson’s salty

cream fill his mouth, Nigel redoubled his efforts, hollowing his
cheeks as he bobbed his head quickly. Come for me. Come in my
mouth.

Suddenly, his face was pushed back, causing Cayson’s length to

slip from his lips with a pop. Nigel was confused for a moment until
long fingers tangled in his hair, holding his head back on his
shoulders while Cayson’s other hand flew over his cock in jerky,
uncoordinated movements.

“Your lips are all swollen,” Cayson panted. “My beautiful,

debauched angel. I’m going to mark you, paint you with my seed. Do
you want that?”

“Yes,” Nigel moaned, surprising himself by the admission.
“Touch yourself.”
Nigel almost whimpered in relief as he took his dick in hand,

stroking hard and fast. It didn’t take long for him to reach his peak,
but he refused to tumble over the edge without his mate. “Come for
me, Cayson,” he whispered shakily.

“Nigel!” The cords in Cayson’s neck stood out in sharp relief as

he growled through his climax. Hot, creamy ropes of cum exploded
from his cock, splashing over Nigel’s chest and neck.

It was so deliciously naughty, so completely dirty, and Nigel

loved every second of it. “Gods, yes,” he whimpered, his hips bucking
as his balls unloaded, spilling endless ropes of semen onto the carpet
below him.

Before his head had even stopped spinning from the intensity of

his release, he was hauled up from the floor and into Cayson’s lap.
His mate took his time, moaning quietly as he licked Nigel clean.
Then that talented tongue plunged into his mouth, leaving no crevice
unexplored.

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“You will not do anything to get yourself hurt. Do you understand

me?”

“Yes,” Nigel breathed. He’d agree to anything if Cayson kept

kissing him like that.

“I mean it, Nigel. I won’t survive it if something happens to you.

Now, promise me.”

It finally dawned that Cayson had never been angry with him.

He’d been scared, an emotion that was probably very uncommon to
the man. Still, Nigel couldn’t bring himself to make a promise that he
wasn’t sure he could keep. He hoped nothing would happen to him,
but he couldn’t swear it. If his friends needed him, he’d be there.

“I promise to take care of myself.” It wasn’t a lie, but he doubted

Cayson would see it that way. Hopefully, he’d never have reason to
question it.

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Chapter Fifteen


Two weeks passed, and nothing more happened other than Cayson

being called up for “training” twice more. He hated the look in
Nigel’s eyes when he came home ripped up and bloody, but there
wasn’t much he could do about it. His contract was very specific, and
a lot worse than a few bites would happen if he just stopped showing
up for work.

“Please, Cayson,” Nigel begged him at the end of the second

week. “Can’t we just leave? We’ll disappear. I can’t take this
anymore.”

“Angel, there is nowhere to run where they won’t find us.

Besides, I can’t just leave Brier.”

“We’ll take him with us.”
“I can’t.” He wouldn’t spend his life looking over his shoulder.

That wasn’t the kind of life he wanted for Nigel or Brier.

Since the night of his attack, Nigel and Brier had both refused to

leave other than for work and school. Every morning, Nigel woke up
early and drove Brier to school before going on to work. Since he was
part owner of Fantasy Creations—and his friends were sympathetic to
the situation—he’d also been getting off work early to pick up Brier,
bring him home, and start dinner.

It was very domestic, and it made Cayson’s heart hurt a little more

each time he watched his mate’s car bump down his driveway. It
wasn’t all easy sailing, but Nigel had managed to make his house into
a home and their trio into a family. Cayson wanted the life Nigel was
building for them so much that he ached with it, but it also reminded
him daily of how much he stood to lose.

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“I hate this,” Nigel breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “One

of these days, you’re not going to come home. Maybe I should stay at
my place for a while. If Drew thinks he’s winning, maybe his dad will
back off.”

Cayson was not a fan of that idea. He’d grown used to waking up

with Nigel in his arms or sliding into bed and curling up to his warm
body after a long nightshift. “I doubt that would work.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot.” Nigel shrugged, turning his head as he

sniffed. “I can’t keep letting you get hurt because of me.”

“Nigel, look at me.”
“There were paw prints around the front porch and under our

bedroom window. There’s a car that follows me in to work every day.
I hear noises outside while you’re at work during the night. You keep
getting hurt because of me, and now I’m risking Brier as well.”

Nigel’s eyes were red rimmed and shining, but there were no

tears. “Maybe it’s Drew and maybe not, but either way, it’s too
dangerous for us to be together right now, Cayson. It’s just for a little
while, though, until Salem figures out what to do.”

Cayson’s chest constricted and his throat burned as he struggled to

keep his mouth closed. If he parted his lips, even to take a breath, he’d
break down and say something stupid. Brick by brick, the life he’d
been fighting for was crumbling around him, and he was powerless to
stop it.

The urge to walk out the door, track down Drew Macon, and rip

his slimy throat out was strong. It might make him feel better, but it
wouldn’t accomplish anything except bringing the wrath of the local
wolf pack and the warden of Ironrock on them.

“I think Brier will be safe here if I leave. You’ll have to make sure

he gets to school, though. I don’t know how you’ll do that with your
work schedule.”

“I’ll manage,” Cayson answered tightly. He’d been reluctant to

allow Brier to come live with him, but he finally had his son back. He
wouldn’t screw it up and lose him a second time.

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“Okay, well, I’ll just grab my bags and head home then. I’ll call

you in a couple of days.”

His bags were already packed? So, he’d been planning this. The

information hurt more than it probably should. If it wasn’t for the
tears that suddenly streaked down Nigel’s cheeks, Cayson would have
believed his mate actually wanted this, wanted to leave him.

Unable to stop himself, Cayson closed the short distance between

them, curled his fingers around the back of Nigel’s neck, and pulled
the man into a kiss that he hoped expressed everything he couldn’t put
into words. “You take care of yourself,” he whispered. “I’ll stay away
if that’s what you want, but you call me if you need anything. Promise
me, angel.”

Nigel sniffled and bobbed his head. “I promise.”
After carrying Nigel’s bags to his car and making him promise

once more to call, Cayson rested their foreheads together and breathed
deeply, unable to let go just yet. “I’m going to miss you, Nigel.”

“It’s just for a little while. This isn’t good-bye, sweetheart.”
The declaration made him feel marginally better, but it was the

endearment that warmed the bone-numbing chill he’d felt since his
mate announced he was leaving. This was for the best. It was just for
a little while. They’d be together again soon.

That was what Cayson repeated inside his head, anyway. Now, if

he could just make himself believe it.

Standing on his front porch, Cayson watched until Nigel’s car

disappeared from sight before digging his phone out of his pocket and
dialing Cash Gavin. His call was answered on the second ring, but it
took Cayson a moment to find his voice.

“Nigel just left. He thinks it would be better if we spent some time

apart until everything cools down.”

“I know this ain’t what you wanna hear, but I have to agree with

him. You’re gonna get yourself killed, Downs.”

Cayson closed his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right,

but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. In fact, it fucking sucks.”

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“I know the feeling.” Cash echoed his sigh, and Cayson suddenly

remembered that the vampire had his own mating issues to deal with.

“What’s up with you and Cedric?”
“The hell if I know. I took him home that night, walked him to the

door, and that’s the last I’ve heard from him.”

Neck-deep in his own troubles, Cayson was having a little

difficulty drudging up the right amount of empathy. So, he just
dropped the façade altogether and cut right to the chase. “Have you
found out anything or talked to Salem?”

“I know that Warden Macon doesn’t have a son named Drew, but

he does have a brother by that name.”

“Wait.” Hope rose up inside him. “How do you know that? Who

have you talked to?”

“Sorry, man, I haven’t talked to anyone like you’re thinkin’. The

little cocksucker showed up at Ironrock the other night. The warden
called him brother.”

“What else did you hear?”
“Someone wants Nigel, but I don’t think it’s either of the Macons.

They kept talking about some guy and sayin’ how he wasn’t gonna be
happy if they didn’t get the kitty.”

Cayson’s blood froze, but he needed more information. “What

else? Cash, tell me everything.”

“That’s it. I wouldn’t have heard that much, but I had to take one

of the shifters down to the infirmary. Well, there’s one more thing,
but I don’t know how much truth there is to it.”

“Just tell me.”
“That shifter was sick. He wasn’t injured, man. He was straight-up

sick like how humans get the flu or a virus. When I was walkin’ him
to the infirmary, he told me that the warden was drugging them.”

“The shifters?”
“All of the inmates. Like I said, I don’t know if it’s true, but it

might be the foot in the door that King Constantine needs.”

“Got it. I’m calling him now.”

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They said their good-byes, and Cayson disconnected the call,

immediately dialing the number Salem had given him.

“Dad, what’s going on? Where’s Nigel?”
Pressing the phone to his ear, Cayson looked over his shoulder to

find a tousled-haired Brier standing in the doorway and yawning
hugely. “He went home.”

“What? Why?”
“Yep,” Salem answered the phone. It was an odd greeting to hear

from a king, but that’s why Cayson liked the guy. He wasn’t an
arrogant bully like other men in power.

“I have some information that you might find useful.”
“Dad, why is Nigel gone?”
“Ironically, I have some news for you as well,” Salem replied.
“Should I come to you?”
“Yeah, that would be best. I’ll let the guards know you’re on your

way.”

“Dad, answer me!” Brier demanded when Cayson hung up the

phone. “What the hell did I miss while I was sleeping?”

“Prisoners are being drugged. Nigel went home. Drew and the

warden are brothers. And the vampire king might have finally found
something to help us.”

Brier blinked at him twice and tilted his head to the side. “In

English?”

“I’m going to roast a couple of wolves and bring Nigel home.”
“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”
Cayson snorted and shook his head. “Get dressed. We have a

meeting.”

“Kicking ass and taking names?”
The smile slid from his face, and Cayson growled. “I don’t really

care about names.”

* * * *

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“I’m done playing games. I’m on my way to you, but I want you

to stay away from my family. That’s the deal. If you want me, you
leave them out of this.”

Nigel disconnected the call without waiting for a reply. Then he

fiddled with a couple of settings on his phone before shoving it into
his pocket. He really hoped this worked.

Two weeks. Two freaking weeks, and they were no closer to

finding answers or a solution to their problem than they were when
everything had first started. Twice Cayson had stumbled through the
front door, barely standing and bleeding all over the carpet.

The second time it happened, Nigel promised himself that he’d

find a way to make it stop. But, he’d been a coward, weak, too
enthralled with Cayson to leave and do the right thing. Well, no more.
A large part of the blame rested squarely on his shoulders, but it was
Drew who was making their lives miserable. Whatever weird
obsession he had with Nigel needed to end.

There was a slight twinge of guilt about lying to his mate, but it

had been just a tiny fib. He fully intended to go home—after a short
detour. March had given way to April, and the sun had finally started
to shine. That also meant that the days were growing longer, and
businesses stayed open later. Daybreak Café would still have its doors
open, and more than likely, Drew would be behind the counter.

If the guy’s dad was some all-powerful warden, why the hell did

Drew work at a minimum-wage job, pouring coffee for a living? It
didn’t make any sense to Nigel, but then again, not much about this
predicament did.

Pulling into a space in the side parking lot, Nigel turned off his

headlights, cut the engine, and just sat there, staring out the
windshield. He sat there for a long time while he debated what he was
about to do and argued with himself over the stupidity of those
actions. This wasn’t about him anymore, though. This was about
keeping the people he loved safe. Sometime, somehow, Cayson had
become one of those people.

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Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. It was very easy to love

Cayson. The man was strong, caring, and selfless. His main concern
was always for others, never showing any regard for his own well-
being. Well, if Cayson wasn’t going to take care of himself, then it
was up to Nigel to make sure the man he adored was safe.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t scared out of his mind, though. Drew

was a sadistic prick, and he invoked a fear inside Nigel that left him
feeling queasy. “This isn’t about you,” he reminded himself aloud.
“This is for Cayson.” What kind of mate—what kind of person
would he be if he just sat back and watched as his lover was mauled
time after time?

“Here goes nothing.” Nigel pushed open his car door and stepped

out into the chilly night. It might be nearing the middle of April, but
Indiana was still reluctant to let go of winter. Wrapping his jacket
around him more securely, he took a deep breath, squared his
shoulders, and marched around the building to the front door.

His courage faltered momentarily when he looked through the

glass door and saw Drew standing behind the front counter, but it was
too late to turn back. Stepping into the coffee shop, the bell over the
door sounded unusually loud in the quiet room, and Nigel had to
make a willing effort not to flinch.

Of course the place would be empty. It was too much to hope for

witnesses.

“Hello, kitten,” Drew drawled when he noticed Nigel. A predatory

smile spread over his face, and he jumped over the counter with ease.
“I wasn’t sure if you meant what you said on the phone.”

Okay, Nigel could work with that. “Yes, Drew. I’m not with

Cayson anymore. I don’t know what you want with me, but here I am,
just like I promised.” He was pretty damn proud of how calm he
sounded.

Drew prowled closer, circling around Nigel like a shark sizing up

his prey. “You know what I think? I think you’re lying.”

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“My bags are in my car right now. You can go check for yourself.

I don’t want to see him.” Hurt he added inside his head. I don’t want
to see him hurt.

“What’s the catch?” Obviously he wasn’t as stupid as he looked.
“Call your dad off. I’ll do whatever you want as long as your dad

doesn’t hurt Cayson again—or anyone else I care about.”

“My dad?” Drew tilted his head to the side, looking genuinely

confused. “My father is dead.”

“Van,” Nigel clarified, his eyebrows drawing together in

confusion.

“My brother.” The smile returned, and Drew chuckled coldly.

“You’ll do whatever I want? All I have to do is make sure the puppy
doesn’t get hurt again?”

“Cayson, Brier, Cash, and my friends. As long as you don’t hurt

anyone I care about, I’ll stay with you and do what you tell me.”
Well, he’d do what he was told until he could get enough dirt on
Drew and Van to get them off their backs. “I’ll…” Nigel almost
choked on the next words but forced them out anyway. “I’ll let you
claim me.”

Drew barked out a harsh laugh as his nose wrinkled and his upper

lip curled over his teeth. “I don’t want to be mated to you, stupid. I
just needed a way to control you.” His smile turned downright evil,
causing Nigel’s blood to run cold. “Your little puppy has given me a
better way to do that now.”

The man hadn’t been so cocky when face-to-face with Cayson. He

talked a big game, but Nigel figured Drew would probably piss
himself if Cayson was to walk through that door just then. That was
okay, though. He could play along until he got the information he
wanted.

“Who is Grafton Constantine?”
Drew’s expression froze, his body becoming statue still. “He was

a prince of the vampire race.”

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Was. So he knew the former prince was dead. Interesting. Why

would a wolf shifter be privy to such information? As far as Nigel
knew, the entire unfortunate incident had been swept under the rug.
“They know he’s connected to you and your brother. You need to be
careful, Drew.” Conjuring up images of Cayson’s handsome face, it
was almost easy for him to fake a loving, though concerned,
expression.

“They don’t know anything,” Drew scoffed. Grabbing Nigel’s

arm, he spun him around roughly and shoved him toward the door.
“We have places to go, sweetheart. Move your ass.”

“Where are we going?” Unresisting, Nigel allowed Drew to drag

him out to the parking lot and practically throw him into his SUV.

“We have an appointment with a very important man. If you

hadn’t shown up, I would have had to come get you, so I thank you
for making this much easier for me.”

You’re welcome? What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

He didn’t know, so he ignored it.

“We’re going to see your boss?” Nigel asked when Drew slid into

the driver’s seat. “You’re scared of him, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” Drew snapped. “Just sit there and keep your mouth

shut.”

Oh, he’d hit a nerve. Nice to know. “Did Grafton kill the king?”

Nigel had no intentions of keeping his mouth closed. Drew needed
him for some reason and, therefore, wasn’t about to hurt him.

“I said shut it.”
“Someone shot the king with silver bullets.” Sitting up straighter,

Nigel turned in his seat, watching Drew’s agitated movements as he
started the car and backed out of his parking space. “Did you do it?
Did you kill King Basil?”

Drew’s attention snapped toward him, his yellow eyes glowing in

the moonlight that filtered into the cab. “You will shut your mouth, or
I will shut it for you.” His voice was low, gravelly, and full of threat.

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“I don’t think your boss would be very happy if I showed up dead.

Do you?” Nigel responded calmly, but his insides were a mess.

“Remember, kitten, you heal fast.”
Swallowing loudly, Nigel settled back in his seat and pressed his

lips together firmly. Suddenly, he wasn’t so confident that he’d make
it out of this alive.

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Chapter Sixteen


“What are these?” Cayson flipped through the papers that Salem

pressed into his hands. They were infirmary reports from different
IPC complexes all over the country.

“Read them,” Salem said, leaning back in his chair behind his

desk.

“Two shifters dead of heart complications. A vampire exhibiting

symptoms of pneumonia. Three werewolves dropped dead with no
known cause. What the hell is this?”

“Now look at these.” Salem pushed another stack of papers across

the desk toward Cayson. “Disciplinary reports. Inmates seem
unusually quiet. Other times, the same inmates show heightened states
of aggression.”

“Just like what’s happening in Cambridge,” Cayson mumbled.

“Cash says one of the shifters told him tonight that they’re being
drugged.”

“That’s what my informants tell me as well.”
“But why?” Atticus asked, resting his hip on the side of Salem’s

desk and crossing his arms over his chest. “And what sort of
concoction are they giving them to cause all of these illnesses? We
just don’t get sick.”

“That’s what we need to find out.” Shoving a hand through his

hair, Salem grumbled under his breath for a few minutes before
focusing his attention once again. “With all of these reports, I’m
inclined to think that Van Macon is not at the head of this.”

“Who signed your contract?” Atticus spoke distractedly, and he

looked deep in thought while he waited for Cayson’s answer.

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“The head of the IPC.”
“Name?”
“Uh, I don’t know. I didn’t really pay any attention to that.” In

hindsight, he probably should have gone over his contract with a fine-
tooth comb, but at the time, he’d just been happy to get the fuck out of
his cell.

“Do you have a copy of it?”
“No.” He’d been called into the warden’s office, offered the deal,

and given a pen to jot down his John Hancock. Then he’d been
escorted back to his cage, where he’d sat for two more days until they
finally released him for his first training session. “There was an X.”
He closed his eyes, concentrating on that day and the piece of paper
that had been shoved under his nose. “There wasn’t a name, just an
X.”

“Well, that’s helpful.” With a deep sigh, Atticus pushed away

from the desk and began pacing. “Where is Nigel anyway? I figured
he’d be with you.”

“He left.” Gods, it hurt just to say the words. “He went home.”
After an awkward silence and a couple of pitying looks, Salem

cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair. “One of the
vampire guards in Washington reported seeing Grafton there. He
didn’t say what business my uncle had at the complex, but he’s sure it
was him.”

“Another guard in Texas said the same,” Atticus added.

“Whatever is going on, it’s a whole lot bigger than what we originally
thought.”

“And Dorian finally came clean about why he’s been such an ass

lately,” Salem added. “Apparently, Drew Macon tried cozying up to
him after Nigel split. When that didn’t work, he turned his sights on
Brenner.”

Cayson chewed over the information for a long time before

speaking. “So, it’s not Nigel.” While the information made him feel
slightly better, it raised more questions than it answered. “Any one of

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you will do.” He dipped his head in Atticus’s direction. “What does
he want from you?”

“I wish I knew. All six of us grew up together. We practically

shared a crib. Cats are not social creatures, and cat shifters are no
different, but we were all family. With each of us being a different
breed of cat, I have no idea how our parents even met, let alone
became friends. I never thought it was strange until now, though.”

“It’s almost like they were banding together against something,”

Brier said quietly, thoughtfully, speaking for the first time. The kid
didn’t speak much, but when he did, it was always insightful. It was
something that Cayson was beginning to notice about his son. “Maybe
they all shared a secret, a reason to stick close to one another.”

“A month ago, I would have called you crazy. Now, I just don’t

know.” There was a sad lilt to Atticus’s voice, and Cayson was sorry
that the guy had to relive something so obviously painful.

“How did you guys survive? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you

did, but it seems pretty unlikely that a vampire would wipe out your
family but leave you and your friends alive.”

“We were all around nine or ten, I guess,” Atticus began. “We

were at Dorian’s house. I remember our parents all seemed really
nervous or upset about something. Just before the vampires showed
up, Dorian’s mom made us all shift and stuck us in a closet under a
blanket.”

“The door didn’t close all the way,” Salem continued when

Atticus stopped speaking and looked away. “They saw everything.
That’s how Atty knew my uncle.”

“They didn’t kill Dorian’s dad, though,” Atticus whispered.

“Grafton turned him. It was horrible.”

“I’m sorry,” Cayson offered inadequately. “Who took care of you

guys?”

“Mr. Elder held on long enough for his oldest son to get there.

Then he killed himself.” There was a hollow, vacant quality to

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Atticus’s voice that made Cayson’s heart hurt for the man. “Simon
took care of us until we went off to college.”

“I don’t understand how Grafton turned Mr. Elder,” Salem said

thoughtfully as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “He doesn’t have
that power. It’s not just a bite or something any of us can do. Only a
certain number of vampires have the ability to turn someone.”

Atticus arched an eyebrow and wrinkled his nose. “Then exactly

how were you planning to turn me if it came to that?”

Shrugging unconcernedly, Salem blew air kisses to his lover. “I

know a guy.”

“Of course you do,” Atticus said with a snort.
They might have said more, and Cayson was very interested to

know exactly what it took to turn someone into a vampire, but his cell
phone began to vibrate inside his pocket. Fishing it out, his heart
galloped against his sternum as he read Nigel’s name on the display
screen. “Angel? Is something wrong?”

No answer.
“Nigel?”
Still no answer.
“Is it him?” Brier asked, leaning forward in the chair next to

Cayson with a hopeful look in his eyes.

Cayson glanced at him and shook his head fractionally, pressing a

finger to his lips to quiet the kid so he could concentrate.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” Nigel’s voice drifted over

the line, and panic gripped Cayson like iron bars.

“I told you to keep your fucking mouth shut.” Drew growled.

“We’ll be there soon enough.”

“I recognize this. I’ve been here before.”
Cayson clutched the phone tighter, pressing it to his ear until it

actually hurt. “Where are you?” he pleaded quietly. “Tell me where
you are, baby.”

“There’s nothing like going back to where it all began,” Drew

teased in his snide, annoying voice.

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“I know where they are,” Atticus said immediately.
It was doubtful that Nigel could hear him. His mate was smart, too

smart to keep the volume up and risk Drew overhearing on the other
end of the line. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from offering one last
promise before disconnecting. “I’m coming for you, angel.”

* * * *


The rope was frayed and weathered, but the tire swing they’d

played on as children still swung from the big tree in front of Dorian’s
old home. Time had not been kind to the house, but a sense of longing
hit Nigel as they bumped along the dirt drive and came to a stop just
feet from the front porch.

“Out,” Drew ordered. “Don’t even think about running.”
Nigel had no intentions of running. They were in the middle of

nowhere, with no one around to help him. Trying to escape would be
suicide, and he liked himself a little too much for that. So, he opened
his door and stepped out onto the dead grass that sprouted up sparsely
in the dirt.

Meeting Drew at the front of the vehicle, he was once again

grabbed and manhandled up the steps to the front door. To his shock
and utter bewilderment, the door opened to reveal Dorian’s older
brother, Simon.

“Si? What are you doing here?”
“Come in, Nigel.” There was no emotion in Simon’s voice, no

acknowledgement that he even recognized Nigel other than the use of
his name.

It answered the question of why he was there, however. Though

the house hadn’t been lived in since the death of their parents, the
deed was still in Simon’s name. Only he could invite someone inside.

“Hello, Mr. Durbin,” a man of average height greeted him when

he stepped inside. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

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This was the big boss? The guy couldn’t have been more than a

couple inches taller than Nigel, thin, with red, curly hair, and thick
black-frame glasses perched on his pointed nose. He looked like a
total nerd, not some evil villain.

Nigel pressed his lips together, refusing to be drawn into a

conversation with the man. Hopefully, he appeared strong and
stubborn to onlookers. In reality, he was afraid he’d vomit all over the
stained carpet if he opened his mouth.

“You and your friends have been annoyingly hard to get my hands

on,” Mr. Evil Villain mused as he paced the floor with his fingers
linked behind his back. “Mr. Elder here”—he waved a hand in
Simon’s direction—“has proven to be rather useless. Pity. He is kind
of nice to look at.”

“What do you want?” Nigel forced the words through his numb

lips. If he was going to die, he wished they’d just get on with it.

“Cutting right to it, are we? Very well then. You have something

that belongs to me, Mr. Durbin. I want it back.”

“I don’t even know who you are.”
“Ah, let me rephrase. Your parents stole something from me. I

had them killed for it, as you know. Now, I want it back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was easy to defy the

man when it was the truth. The guy was bat-shit crazy, and Nigel
didn’t have a clue what he wanted from him.

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” He lifted his head and

nodded toward Simon.

A vampire flashed to Simon’s side, jerked his head back by his

hair, and sank his fangs into the side of his neck none too gently.
Simon cried out, struggling to get free of the vampire’s hold, but it
was no use.

“Wait!” Nigel cried. “Just stop. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
The redheaded asshole nodded again, and the guard released

Simon, letting him crumple to the floor while he licked the remainder

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of the blood from his lips. “Now that I have your attention, tell me
where the box is.”

“I don’t know. I’m telling you the truth. I don’t even know what

box you’re talking about.”

“My guards have ripped this place apart, as well as the other five

homes. The box is in none of them. One of you has what I want, and I
suggest you give it to me.”

The other properties were owned by the bank as far as Nigel

knew. Apparently, they didn’t count as private residences any longer
if Mr. Evil and his band of merry men could get inside them. It made
his stomach roll to think the man had touched any part of his
childhood home.

Van Macon, Drew’s brother, stepped in from the direction of the

kitchen, pushing a very frightened-looking little girl in front of him.
Nigel didn’t know who she was, but she couldn’t have been more than
eight or nine. Her long blonde hair curled over her shoulders, and her
green eyes were wide and terrified.

“Miss Gwen would very much like for you to give me that box.”
“Please help me,” the little girl whimpered. “I just wanted to see

the fireflies down by the lake. I didn’t mean to go so far.”

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.” Nigel didn’t know how he

was going to keep that promise, but he’d find a way. What scum used
an innocent child as leverage? And worse, little Gwen was a human
child.

“Yes, it will all be okay if you give me what I want.”
“Why do you want it?” Nigel didn’t know what box the guy

wanted or where to find such an object. He needed to stall, though.
Hopefully, Cayson had gotten his call and was on his way with
backup.

It had been a shot in the dark, a wild card, so to speak, but he

prayed it had worked. By turning off the volume on his phone and
dimming the display screen before he’d ever stepped foot into
Daybreak Café, he’d been able to call his mate by irritating Drew,

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thereby distracting him long enough to slip his phone under his thigh
and hit the speed dial.

He didn’t know where Cayson was or if he’d be able to decipher

the cryptic message, though. While Drew wasn’t the brightest crayon
in the box, Nigel hadn’t wanted to set off any alarm bells by
specifically saying Dorian’s name. Maybe that had been a mistake,
but he couldn’t undo it now.

“What do you want with the box?” he repeated when he didn’t

receive an answer.

“I don’t think that’s really any of your concern.”
“It is if you want the box.” What the hell was he doing? Gods, he

needed to shut his mouth before everything blew up in his face.

“Mr. X doesn’t have to explain shit to you,” Drew spat, shaking

him roughly by his upper arm. “Just tell us where the fucking box is.”

“Enough,” Mr. X ordered, pinching the bridge of his nose in

apparent aggravation. “Look, Mr. Durbin. I’m a rather selfish man
who likes to have his way. When people don’t give me what I want,
they have terrible accidents. Your parents are proof of that, as well as
Prince Grafton Constantine. I have no problem killing that little girl or
your dear friend Simon.”

He spoke so calmly, as though he murdered people in cold blood

on a daily basis. Maybe he did. If Nigel made it out of this alive, he
wanted to have enough information to take this asshole down, though.

“If you kill me, you will never find that box. So, why don’t you

just tell me why you want it so much.”

“Morgan,” Mr. X said, looking Nigel right in the eyes.
The vampire who’d attacked Simon flew across the room and

lifted Gwen into his arms, forcing her head to the side and causing her
to scream.

“Wait! Don’t hurt her. I’ll take you to the box.” Fuck, this was not

going at all how he wanted it to, but he couldn’t let them hurt the girl.

“That’s better.”

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The vampire, Morgan, lowered Gwen to her feet gently but kept a

hand on her shoulder. At least she was out of immediate danger,
though. “It’s at the base of one of the evergreens down by the lake
behind my parents’ old house.”

“Take me to it.”
A flash of movement from behind Van caught Nigel’s attention,

but it was nothing more than a blur, too fast for him to see what it
was.

“Down!” someone shouted, and Nigel didn’t need to be told

twice.

As the noise level exploded inside the living room and chaos

ensued, Nigel took a running leap, dove through the air, and tackled
Gwen sideways, shielding most of the blow from the landing with his
body. Everywhere he looked, men were engaged in battle. Nigel
didn’t know who the hell they were, but he was grateful for the rescue
all the same.

“Straight out the front door,” he whispered to the little girl. “Don’t

stop running.” Hopefully someone would be waiting to intercept
her—and hopefully it would be one of the good guys.

She looked frightened but eventually nodded before scrambling to

her feet and sprinting for the front door. Once she was outside, Nigel
pushed to his feet and hurried across the carpet to Simon. “Simon,
wake up. We have to get out of here.” He slapped at the shifter’s
cheeks. “Get the fuck up!”

Groaning pathetically, Simon’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked

disoriented for a moment. “Oh, shit, Nigel.” His big arms wound
around Nigel and hugged him fiercely. “I’m so sorry, man. They
threatened to hurt Dorian, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“I get it, Si. Why do you think I’m here? We have to go now,

though. We’ll sort out the details later.”

“I don’t think there’s any rush,” Simon answered with a smug

grin.

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It was only then that Nigel realized the room had gone almost

silent except for the quiet growling of Drew and his brother. Both
shifters were on their knees, hands bound behind their backs and guns
pressed to their temples. The vampire, Morgan, was also being
detained, but he seemed much more resigned to his fate.

“Who are these guys? Who sent them?”
“That would be me,” Salem answered as he stepped in through the

front door. Atticus followed in right behind him, Gwen clutching at
his hand while she kept her face buried against his side.

“Well, it’s about time.” Either Simon didn’t know who Salem

was, or he was still a little dizzy from the loss of blood.

“Asshole.” Salem chuckled as he strode over and offered a hand

to pull Simon to his feet. “I think I’m going to like you.”

“Not too much, I hope.” Atticus huffed in a disgruntled kind of

way.

Nigel wasn’t paying attention to them, though. “Where is Mr. X?”
“He escaped through a window in the back.” The vampire king

didn’t look very pleased about the information, either. “Don’t worry.
My men will catch up with him.”

Nigel highly doubted that, but just then, he didn’t care. He was

alive. Gwen was safe, and Simon wouldn’t have any lasting effects
from his bite. They hadn’t seen the last of the mysterious Mr. X, but
they’d won this round, and that was good enough for now.

Pushing to his feet, Nigel dusted his hands off on the sides of his

pants, looking up just as the most gorgeous man he’d ever laid eyes
on stepped into the room from the front porch. Their eyes locked, and
they both seemed paralyzed for a moment, stuck just staring at each
other.

“Nigel,” Cayson choked out.
The single word broke his trance, and Nigel started forward,

slowly at first, but after the first two steps he found himself sprinting
to his mate. With a final push, he jumped into the air, throwing

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himself into Cayson’s arms and wrapping around him like a spider
monkey as he attacked his mouth with enthusiasm.

“Don’t you ever fucking do this shit to me again.” Cayson

growled possessively, and his arms tightened around Nigel before he
claimed his lips once again, pushing his tongue inside Nigel’s mouth,
dominating him in a way that left no question as to who was alpha
between them.

“Never again,” Nigel panted. “That sucked.”
“You’re coming home now. Do you understand me? You’re

coming home, and you’ll be lucky if I ever let you leave the house
again. Don’t fucking argue with me. Just say yes and kiss me again.”

“Gods, yes,” Nigel breathed, grabbing Cayson’s face in both

hands and pulling him back to his mouth. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Being a hero was all well and good, but not everyone was cut out

for it. Nigel had learned his lesson, and he was more than happy to let
his mate take care of him. In fact, he demanded it.

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Chapter Seventeen


“Drew, Van, and Morgan are in jail?”
“Yep.”
“Because of Gwen?”
“She’s human,” Cayson answered. “Not only did they expose our

world to her, but they threatened her life. IPC takes that very
seriously.”

“But she gets to stay with Atticus and Salem?”
“She’s a pretty amazing kid. An IPC judge had to interview her to

make sure that she wasn’t being forced or wouldn’t end up freaking
out about the whole thing. She passed with flying colors. The judge
also happens to be a family court judge for the state. He approved the
adoption yesterday.”

Atticus had been smitten with the little girl immediately, and it

hadn’t taken Salem long to be wrapped around her little finger, either.
Once they learned that she was an orphan living at the children’s
home not far from where Atticus grew up, it was almost like fate had
designed their meeting. They all seemed very happy with the
arrangement, and Cayson wished them all the best.

“What about Mr. X?”
“Nothing.” Nearly five weeks since Nigel had been kidnapped and

subsequently rescued and there was nothing on Mr. X. The man was a
phantom, and it was like he’d vanished into thin air.

“What does that mean for you? He’s the one who signed your

contract, isn’t he?”

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“Yes, but as it turns out, Mr. X isn’t the head of the IPC. In fact,

there is no head. There’s a ruling council comprised of several IPC
judges, and they have never even heard of this guy.”

Nigel arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest as he

eased down on the end of their bed. “Why am I just now finding out
about this?”

“I just found out last night.”
“Your contract?”
“Null and void. Not just mine but all of the guards’. Most are

staying on, though, with a raise in pay of course.” Cayson smirked at
his mate as he pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it toward
the chair in the corner. “What else?”

“So, you get to keep your job, but you won’t be hurt anymore,

right?”

“Right. I even got a promotion to head of security.”
Nigel let out a low, shaky breath in obvious relief. Truth be told,

Cayson was pretty damn relieved himself. “What about all of the
inmates being drugged? What’s happening with that?”

“IPC is investigating, but so far they haven’t found any proof.

They’re even talking about calling in vets and witches. I don’t know if
it will do anything good, but I guess it’s worth a shot. Either way,
there really hasn’t been much development on that yet. I’m sure
they’ll figure it out, though.” Cayson paused and tilted his head to the
side. “Any other questions?”

“That was some meeting you had last night.” His lower lip

protruded as he pouted. “I should have been there. I didn’t think you
were serious when you said you weren’t going to let me leave the
house.”

“I let you go to work every day.”
Nigel growled and rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do. Now, I have a question for you.”
“What’s that?”

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“What the hell is up with Cedric? Cash says Cedric has been

avoiding him.” Normally, Cayson didn’t get involved in other
people’s affairs, but Cash had become a friend, and it was obvious he
was suffering because of Cedric’s lack of interest.

“Our parents were murdered by vampires,” Nigel whispered. “The

instant attraction was there that first night, but now Cedric is having a
little trouble getting past what Cash is. I’ll talk to him, but I think it’s
going to take some time.”

“Fair enough.” Unbuttoning his jeans, Cayson pushed them down

his hips along with his boxers and stepped out of the denim. “Why
aren’t you naked?”

Nigel blushed, his cheeks tinting the cutest shade of pink. It still

amazed Cayson that the guy could fight so vehemently for the people
he loved, yet the simple act of being seen nude invoked an almost
crippling shyness.

“Clothes off,” he ordered. By now he’d learned that clearly given

directions worked better than coaxing when it came to getting his
mate in the mood and out of his clothes. “On your hands and knees in
the middle of the bed,” he added once Nigel was undressed. “I have a
little surprise for you.”

Stopping in the middle of the bed, Nigel turned around and sat

back on his heels, resting his palms flat against the tops of his thighs.
“I want to tell you something. I want to say it now, because it won’t
mean as much afterwards.”

Crawling up on the mattress, Cayson knelt in front of his lover

and brushed their lips together softly. “You can tell me anything, but I
already know what you’re going to say. And trust me, it will mean the
world to me no matter when or how you say it. I love you, too,
Nigel.”

“You ruin everything.” Nigel snorted and rolled his eyes before

launching himself into Cayson’s lap and peppering kisses all over his
face. “I wanted to say it first, you big jerk. Now I just have to say it
more.” He continued kissing down Cayson’s neck and across his

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Gabrielle Evans

shoulder. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He whispered the words
after each nibbling kiss. “I love you, Cayson. So much.”

“I know.” Cayson growled playfully, tackling his mate to the bed

and pinning him there with his larger body. “I love you, too, angel,
more than anything. You’re not getting out of this, though.”

Smiling crookedly, Nigel dropped his head and wiggled around

until he could turn over on his belly. “So, what’s my surprise?”

“I found your stash when we were packing the stuff from your

house.” Reaching into the nightstand, Cayson extracted a bottle of
lube and a pale-blue dildo. “Would this be the infamous Thundering
Boomstick?”

Nigel gulped as he surveyed the phallus—complete with a big set

of silicone balls at the base—in Cayson’s hand. “That would be it.”

Smiling wickedly, Cayson set the dildo to the side and flipped

open the cap on the lube, pouring the gel directly down Nigel’s
crease. Other than a slight shiver, Nigel didn’t react, and Cayson’s
grin widened. “Relax, baby. I’m going to take care of you.”

“You always do.”
Quickly but carefully, Cayson stretched his mate’s tight pucker,

scissoring his fingers and adding more until he had three pumping in
and out of his love’s silky channel. Nigel moaned and whimpered,
pushing up on his knees and rocking back against Cayson’s hand,
fucking himself on the invading digits.

“Slow down, killer.” Laughing quietly at the man’s enthusiasm,

Cayson smacked him lightly on his upturned bottom and removed his
fingers. “Deep breath, angel.” Coating the toy in more lube, he
positioned the tip at Nigel’s slick opening, waiting for his exhale
before pushing it in slowly.

“Oh, fuck,” Nigel growled, dropping his forehead to the mattress.

“That thing is almost as big as you are.”

Almost, but not quite. Once the base rested snugly against Nigel’s

cheeks, Cayson paused, just letting his mate get used to the stretch.
“Ready for more?”

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169

“Yes.”
Cayson had spent a little time with the toy, learning how to

operate it and what the different buttons did. Now, he pressed the blue
button on the bottom of the fake ball sac, which caused the head of
the dildo to swivel.

“Ahh!” Nigel yelled, gripping the sheets in his fists.
Next, Cayson pressed the green button, causing the shaft to rotate

and the clear, rubber nubs that covered the length to stimulate Nigel’s
inner walls.

“Oh, gods,” Nigel gasped and his body began to shake.
He was so beautiful in his desire with his flushed skin and flexing

muscles. Cayson’s cock pulsed between his thighs, dripping
generously from the tip at the delectable sight. He wanted to keep
playing, to hear more of those shuddering gasps spill from Nigel’s
pink lips, but the man wasn’t making it easy on his restraint.

Slow and steady, he fucked his mate with the toy, twisting it

slightly and always aiming for his prostate. Watching the ring of
muscles grip the shaft and stretch around it was purely erotic,
arousing him until his own muscles began to quiver and his cock
jerked with need.

Pushing the dildo back in to the base, Cayson took a deep breath,

trying to regain a bit of control, and pushed the last button—the red
one. The sound of crashing thunder assaulted his ears, and the toy
shook hard for exactly three seconds. It wasn’t a slow, continuous
vibration like most toys. No, it was hard and explosive.

“Ooh!” Nigel howled, throwing his head back on his shoulders as

the muscles in his back went rock hard and his inner walls clamped
down on the silicone phallus. “Again.”

Sweet hell, Cayson was going to come just from watching the

ecstasy play over his lover’s face. Obliging, he pressed the red button
again, groaning when the toy shook almost violently and Nigel cried
out once more.

“I’m…I’m…”

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He couldn’t finish, but Cayson understood, and he wanted to feel

the convulsing walls of Nigel’s tunnel wrapped around his cock when
his mate found his release. Easing the toy from Nigel’s hole, he tossed
it to the side, slicked his cock quickly, and nudged his lover’s opening
with the tip.

“Please,” Nigel begged, arching his back and practically sobbing

in his need.

Too far gone for slow and gentle, Cayson plunged in to the root,

growling loudly at the tight, heated suction around his shaft. Holding
Nigel’s hips in a bruising grasp, he pulled out until just the flared
crown remained and drove back inside until his balls slapped against
Nigel’s damp skin.

Over and over, harder, faster, he snapped his hips, pulling Nigel

back on his cock with every forward lunge. Using his arms to push his
upper body up from the bed, Nigel pushed back into him, meeting
each forceful thrust with wanton delight as moans and grunts bounced
off the walls.

“That’s right, baby. You love it, don’t you? Fuck my cock. Make

me come.” His right hand dipped under Nigel’s body, fisted his
throbbing cock, and jerked him in tandem with the movement of his
hips. “I want to hear you scream. I want the whole city to know who
you belong to, angel.”

Leaning forward, Cayson buried himself inside Nigel’s tight heat

as he sank his canines into the man’s shoulder, claiming him once
again as taken.

“Cayson!” Nigel screamed loud enough to make Cayson’s ears

ring as he stiffened, and copious amounts of sticky cream erupted
from the head of his cock to cover the sheets below them.

A long, low groan rumbled through Cayson’s chest as he released

the flesh in his mouth, grinding against Nigel’s bottom and filling his
mate’s depths with his seed. “I think I died,” he said through panting
breaths, resting his sweating forehead between Nigel’s shoulder
blades and clutching the man to him tightly.

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171

“I second that.”
“Seriously?” Brier shouted, pounding on their bedroom door. “If

you tried a little harder, you might be able to wake the dead.”

“Oh, crap,” Nigel moaned, and Cayson knew from experience that

the man’s face was a brilliant red at this point.

“Shut up and go away,” Cayson yelled back to his son. “You’re

embarrassing Nigel.”

“Oh, crap,” Nigel repeated, melting into the mattress and causing

Cayson’s cock to slip from his hole with a naughty squelch.

“Mmm, don’t worry, angel. I love when you scream.”
“You’re not helping, asshole.”
“Yes,” Cayson purred, squeezing one of Nigel’s rounded globes in

his hand. “I love that, too. What toy do you want to try next?”

“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Which is the naughtiest?”
“They’re all naughty by design, Cayson.” Cayson could

practically hear Nigel’s eyes rolling. “That’s kind of the point.”

“Maybe I’ll have to order a new one.”
“My friends do not need to know about our sex life!”
Wrapping Nigel up in his arms, Cayson rolled until he had the

man draped over his chest. “I love you, Nigel Durbin, but I honestly
couldn’t care less if people know about our sex life.”

“I love you, too, and I do.” Nigel dipped his head and pecked him

on the lips. “I will design us some new toys. How about that?”

“So basically, you will be naughty by design?” His eyes lit up, and

Cayson wiggled his brows. “I like that. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Do you think Mr. X will be back?”
The change in topic and mood threw Cayson for a loop, and it

took a couple of seconds for him to answer. “Yeah, I think he’ll be
back. We just have to be more careful.”

“We need to find that box that he wants. I don’t know what it is or

what’s in it, but I don’t want him to have it.”

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Gabrielle Evans

“We’ll find it,” he assured his angel. “Can you please focus on me

right now, though?”

Sighing dramatically, Nigel began slinking down Cayson’s body.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Are you feeling neglected?”

“Not anymore.” Cayson’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he

arched his back when Nigel’s lips skimmed over his sac. “Just don’t
stop.”

“I need a shower,” Nigel announced, popping up and bouncing

toward the bathroom.

Cayson stared down his body to his swelling cock and growled.

“Get back here, you little brat.”

Instead of going into the private bath, though, Nigel sauntered

over to the bedroom door and cracked it open. Crouching down on the
floor, he blew Cayson a kiss and winked. “Catch me,” he taunted
before shifting into a beautiful black-and-white Siamese cat and
darting out into the hallway.

Changing into his Doberman right there on the bed, Cayson

barked once to let his mate know he was coming and then took off in
pursuit. Life was infinitely more interesting since Nigel had come into
his life, and whatever it took, whatever he had to do, Cayson vowed
to keep it that way.

Life wasn’t always going to be easy. In fact, with this mysterious

bad guy breathing down their necks, there was the very real
possibility that it was going to get downright dangerous. That’s why
they had to seize these moments, hold them close, and cherish them
every chance they were given.

A loud, demanding meow called to him from somewhere near the

back of the house, and right then, there was something much more
important than the moment that he wanted to seize.

And once he got his hands on his feisty little angel, he was never

going to let him go.

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173

THE END

WWW.GABRIELLEEVANS.COM

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR



Gabrielle Evans grew up in a small town in southern Oklahoma.

We are talking one red light that may or may not work depending on
the day of the week. She married her high school sweetheart and the
rest is pretty much history. They have two very active boys and one
high-strung wiener dog that keeps her constantly on the go. For now,
she parks her car in central Indiana, but who knows what tomorrow
will bring.

Gabrielle believes in love at first sight, falling hard and fast,

taking chances, and grabbing your happy-ever-after with both hands.
Most importantly, she believes that a great cup of coffee can cure
anything.


Also by Gabrielle Evans

Everlasting Classic ManLove: Sexually Awkward 1:

Custom Toys Made to Order


For all other titles, please visit

www.bookstrand.com/gabrielle-evans

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com




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