A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Wild Thing
ISBN #978-0-85715-272-5
©Copyright Mia Watts 2010
Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright August 2010
Edited by Christine Riley
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination
and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or
places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form,
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and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator
of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL,
United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature
readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
WILD THING
Mia Watts
Dedication
Kris Norris: power goddess of computers, uplifter-er of low spirits, fetish hound of American
accents, convertee to male erotic reading, and dear, irreplaceable friend…this one’s for you.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Boy Scouts of America: Boy Scouts of America Corporation
Gore-tex: W. L. Gore & Associates, Inc.
Dockers: Levi Strauss and Co. Corporation
GQ: Conde Nast Publications Inc.
WILD THING
Mia Watts
5
Chapter One
“Nothing?” DNR Officer Jack Allen asked, his gaze sweeping over Ryan Walsh’s
enigmatic expression.
Any excuse to look at Ryan was a good one. Especially at eight in the morning when
Ryan was sipping hot coffee on the front porch of his log cabin.
Ryan shook his head, a slight move to the left and back. The mug pressed against his
full lower lip, distracting Jack from his line of questioning.
“Is that all, officer?” Amusement coloured his husky tones.
Jack lifted his gaze and found the same twinkle in the depths of Ryan’s chocolate
brown eyes. Jack’s partner nudged him. He blinked and felt the distinct rise of a blush touch
his cheeks with heat. “Uh, no. If you see anything suspicious, give me a call?” Jack
unsnapped his breast pocket, intending to give him a business card.
“I have your number,” Ryan murmured.
“You do?”
Ryan’s smile widened further. “You gave me a card the last time you were out here
tagging red foxes. I keep it beside my phone.” His eyes flicked to Jack’s partner, Clancy. “I
can call you the minute something comes up.”
He lowered his mug, the pale white porcelain gleamed in the bright sunshine as it
broke the shade of the covered porch. Jack didn’t think he had Attention Deficit Disorder, but
Ryan Walsh had a way of twisting small moments into sharp detail.
He wondered briefly if Ryan thought Jack had the mental acuity of a goldfish.
Distracted by shiny things, goggle-eyed whenever Ryan spoke, lame words coming out of
Jack’s mouth—God, he must seem like such a moron.
“Beginning to think you come out here just to check on me,” Ryan remarked casually.
“Your cabin is in the middle of the largest open forestry area and within miles of the
sightings. You go out alone to photograph wildlife.” Jack shrugged. “It makes sense to ask
you if you’ve seen the thing people report seeing,” he reasoned. “And we grew up together.”
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6
Ryan put his mug down on the wooden railing, took a couple of steps down. A
wicked smile touched a corner of his sculpted lips. “Sounds like you need a tour guide.”
“Right. We both used to play in these woods. Just keep your eyes open for the
oversized wolf.”
“Ever think it might be a prank?”
“He’s right,” Clancy decided.
“Did Jenna Frank look like she was kidding when she filed that report?” Jack asked
his partner.
Clancy gave him a funny look. “Maybe. Could have been Gentry. A man can put on a
fur coat and growl convincingly enough if he wanted to. He’s got a thing for twisted pranks.
I can’t see there being a Timber wolf the size of the reports. That ain’t natural. I say you take
Ryan up on the offer, spend a few nights hanging out in a pup-tent and catch the bastards.”
Well fuck Clancy to hell. He never should have confessed his attraction for Ryan to his
partner. Until six years ago, Ryan had been dating a local guy pretty regularly. His type
tended towards lean, wiry men who looked like they belonged on the cover of GQ. Jack
looked nothing like that pretty boy.
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “Clancy, you keep talking about moving to the
cities. You’ll never get there by treating every report like a joke. And boy howdy, do I want
to help you leave this place, so pull some professionalism out of your ass and pretend to have
a mature thought in your head. Okay?”
Ryan chuckled. He picked up his mug, holding it casually at his side. His long fingers
gripped it around the rim instead of the handle. The man had great hands. Perfect hands and
wide wrists, and oh god Jack was doing it again! What the fuck was wrong with him? Any
time Ryan came anywhere near him, Jack went absolutely daft. It had always been that way.
He sighed in annoyance at his fascination with the man.
“Sorry about this, Ryan.” Jack turned and headed to the car, denying himself another
look into Ryan’s bottomless brown eyes and the wind tossed black hair that flirted with his
gaze and chiselled cheekbones. “I’ll let you get back to your coffee.” He spared a quick grin,
aimed in Ryan’s general direction. “You have a nice morning.”
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7
He slammed the door without waiting for Ryan’s response, then gripped the steering
wheel. Surly and annoyed at his partner for nearly spilling the beans about Jack’s pointless
crush, he ground his teeth while he waited for him to get in the car.
“Clancy, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he muttered when his partner finally got in.
“Is that a threat? Are you threatening to violently end my life? Do I need to file a
harassment report?” Clancy mocked.
“Asshole.”
“It’s not my asshole you’re measuring, dickhead.”
Jack slammed his foot on the accelerator and tore out of the dirt drive.
“Real suave, Ryan.” Ryan watched the car speed away, dirt kicking up behind it until
he saw nothing more than a grey-brown trail of dust. He was going to have to kill Clancy.
For damn sure, he’d never get stupid enough to ask him leading questions about his sexy
partner again. Jack’s no-nonsense, rugged, tell-it-like-it-is personality always made Ryan a
little speechless.
This time, he’d tried flirting. All he’d succeeded in doing was making Jack distinctly
uncomfortable and, apparently, pissed off. If Clancy hadn’t told Jack, Ryan had just laid
himself out in obvious puppy love fashion.
Ryan ran his hand through his hair and winced when his fingers snagged. Goddamn
it! He hadn’t even brushed his hair yet. Or showered. He looked a damn mess. He made a
sound of disgust and rolled his head back on his shoulders to stare heavenward. “This isn’t
going to end well.”
He pushed the heavy cabin door and stepped into the cool, dark interior. Leaning on
ritual, he put his coffee cup in the compact dishwasher and headed for the shower. The day
was young. He had a lot to do, and if he didn’t want to come face to face with another
person, he needed to grab his camera and go.
Having cleaned up, he donned an old pair of faded army fatigues, his favourites for all
the pockets and the human attempt to blend into the surroundings. He pulled on a light
brown cotton shirt and shrugged into his hiking pack, slinging his camera case across his
chest. The camera itself though bounced solidly from its strap around his neck. He hated
missing a good shot.
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8
It wasn’t until after he’d left the cabin, he realised he’d forgotten something to tie back
his hair. He shrugged off the thought as being one of those impositions of humanity that
nature didn’t mind. As if to prove a point, autumn lifted playful fingers into his hair and
flung the strands across his eyes.
Leaves crunched underfoot. He made an effort to walk softer, disturb the ground less.
It came easier as he sank into his surroundings, let the woods tell him how to move with it.
Like a dance between shadows, branches, dappled light, and the hurried scurry of smaller
animals looking for food before winter found them unprepared.
He loved this time of year.
Ryan inhaled the musky scent of softening wood and loamy ground covering. The air
held a subtle spiciness to it, a richness that tickled his nose with something just out of reach
among his memories. He smiled, lured on by crisp air and hints of warmth touching his skin
when the sun broke the sparse canopy to tease him.
Ahead, he spied the rocky outcropping that overlooked his favourite morning spot.
Herons congregated at the water’s edge twenty feet below. Canadian geese squawked on
their flight south. Ryan hopped easily over the rocks and dropped down the other side,
tucking himself into a shadowed crevice.
Today was part of his wildlife study of the lake. He wanted to capture every
expression of it from this spot. If he were lucky, if he stayed late enough, he’d catch sight of
the loons calling out as they settled in for the night.
He smiled with satisfaction. The only thing missing in that moment was sharing the
beauty with someone. Specifically, Jack. He’d known Jack for a lifetime, knew he loved
nature as much as Ryan did or he wouldn’t have joined the Department of Natural
Resources. They’d found their niche in different ways, but both celebrated the wild beauty of
northern Minnesota.
What else did they have in common? Ryan’s stomach fluttered nervously. He’d like a
chance to find out, but with Jack on the trail of a huge Timber wolf, Ryan didn’t think now
was a good time. Maybe in a week or two when he had things under control. Then he’d
gladly take Jack out in a pup-tent.
His smile widened. He raised the camera to his eye as he focused the lens on a spotted
leopard frog half-asleep. “You’re out kind of late in the year, little guy.”
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9
He’d like to get that tent rocking, too. How would cut-and-dry Jack feel about that, he
wondered. It got cold in the evenings. A little combustible body heat never did anyone harm.
Ryan snapped the picture. His shutter sounded loud and out of place. Settling in a
little deeper, he thought about the Gore-Tex jacket in his pack. Goose flesh already rose on
his arms, but he held off, wanting to experience every minute of the fall weather.
* * * *
Jack turned his truck down another dirt and gravel road. This one had the earmarks of
a private path, but then this was deer hunting territory and the season was approaching. He
turned off the ignition and scoped the line of trees on either side of where he’d stopped.
Jack had gone over the reports several times. Marked on the map, the sightings were
southeast of Aitkin Lake, not too far where it butted up against Big Sandy Lake. The two
together made a natural barrier for an animal to cross. It was as though the animal had
bottlenecked himself on the finger of land.
The feeding grounds would be good there, Jack reasoned. Good enough to support a
Timber wolf four feet from paw to shoulder? The reports were farfetched to say the least.
Hysteria and building myth would account for a lot of it.
Parked equidistant from three of the sighting locations, he figured he was in a good
position. The noon sun had come and gone. The evenings were shorter already, and dusk
wouldn’t be long. He grabbed his parka, flashlight and rechecked his rifle. He’d loaded it
with sleeping darts. Next he picked up a second rifle loaded with shot. Either way, he was
prepared.
Jack refolded his map and buttoned it into his breast pocket, strapped his walkie to his
belt, and locked the truck behind him.
He thought about what Clancy had said and retrieved his walkie. “Allen to base.
Over.”
“Base. Over.” Clancy’s answer came through spotty static.
“Head over to Libby’s Bar. Keep an eye on Gentry tonight. Over.”
“Roger. Occupying Gentry tonight. Over.”
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10
Jack clipped the walkie back to his belt. With Gentry out of the way, any sightings
tonight couldn’t be reduced to a lame-assed prank from the town screwup. Jack trudged
forward, keeping off the road to follow the animal paths weaving through the woods.
Reaching the lake, he peered from the tree line towards the quietly lapping water on the
shore. Aside from some loons and the occasional daring frog, only the wind rustled around
him.
The sun dipped behind the trees across the lake from him. Jack stayed low, hoping to
catch sight of anything looking for water. The evening wore on and his eyes drooped heavily.
With a shiver and a yawn several hours later, Jack was ready to return to his truck.
“Allen to Base. Over,” he called in sleepily. This time of night he’d be getting an
intern.
“Base here,” the perky voice came back.
“You’re supposed to say over. Over,” he reminded her.
“Oh, right! Over, over.”
Jack sighed, rolled his eyes. “I got nothing on the Timber wolf sighting. I’m calling it a
night. Over.”
“Okey dokey! Over, over!”
“Oh, God,” he muttered. He almost hated to ask about Gentry, but he lifted the walkie
and with a grimace, asked anyway. “Any report from Clancy on Gentry? Over.”
“Uh… what?”
“Over,” he reminded.
“I don’t get it. Over, over.”
“Never mind. Over.” Jack hopped into the truck and popped open his cell. The face
illuminated early hours and two messages from Clancy. He played it back. Gentry had
stayed at the bar until closing, then wandered home on foot. Clancy had left half an hour
later, when all the lights in the house had gone dark.
If Gentry was pulling a fast one, it didn’t appear to be a game he wanted to play
tonight. Jack hit delete. The second recording played. This one was from Clancy, too. Clancy
had heard over the scanner that a rucksack, torn clothing, and a camera case had been found
on Aitkin Lake among the rocks. Traces of blood and hair had been collected. Indications
from the tags on the pack were that they belonged to Ryan Walsh.
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11
“…so I called over there,” Clancy’s recorded voice continued, “and Walsh says he’s
setting up a station there to photograph wildlife. Said he cut himself on the rocks. I didn’t tell
him that the hair samples they found stuck to the blood looked canine, not human. You
might wanna check that out.”
“Hell, yeah, I’m checking that out.” Jack clamped his jaw. Of course a nature guy like
Ryan would know about the wolf. Why wouldn’t he tell the DNR, though? Could he be
using the wolf in his wildlife study and didn’t want the DNR to relocate the animal? A large
Timber wolf like the one reported would be worthy of a photographic study, but that didn’t
mean Ryan couldn’t follow it to the new location.
Proximity and knowing its established habitats might account for his reluctance.
Jack ran his hand through his hair. “Well, damn it.” The idea of Ryan keeping a secret
like this from him pissed him off. People were scared in town. It seemed awfully selfish of
Ryan to want to hold onto the whereabouts of the animal when it was encroaching on human
territory. And for fuck’s sake, there’d be a point when someone would shoot first, report
later. Then where would his precious study be? Did he really want the animal to die instead
of relocating?
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Jack cranked the ignition and
pointed the truck towards home. First thing tomorrow, he was making another trip to
Walsh’s. And this time, he wouldn’t let his pretty brown eyes distract him from the purpose
of his visit. Not this time.
WILD THING
Mia Watts
12
Chapter Two
Ryan saw the approaching truck with interest. At this distance, he could see a single
silhouette and at the rate it bumped over the gravel road, spitting up silt, the driver was in
one helluva hurry.
Another sighting of the Timber monster?
He put away his empty coffee cup and dragged on his navy cotton sweater. Yesterday
he’d been too cool waiting for his photo opportunities. Today, he’d be prepared. The truck
skidded to a halt outside. Ryan didn’t have to be looking out the window to know it. Gravel
had that heavy rushing sound when tires slid on it.
He cinched his woven belt around his hips. When Jack’s tread hit the first step of the
wooden porch, Ryan swung the door open to greet him.
“You’re a little late for coffee. You oughta call ahead next time, and I’ll pour an extra
cup for you,” Ryan teased.
Jack, hands on his hips, looked completely unimpressed with Ryan’s timing. “Funny
guy, aren’t you?”
“I let other people decide that. If you have to tell people you’re funny, you aren’t.”
“Does it work the same way for honesty?” Jack asked.
Ryan didn’t know what he was getting at, but he had a feeling Jack would clear up the
confusion soon. Either he did it on the front porch or inside. Being a private guy, Ryan
preferred inside. He stepped back from the door, ushering Jack in.
“Looks like you have something on your mind,” Ryan noted.
Jack passed him, and Ryan let his gaze travel over the other man’s back to the tight ass
inconveniently hidden by grey-green uniform Dockers. That view alone was worth a pissed
Jack.
“So, you were maligning my character?” Ryan encouraged him to continue.
“Did you see the animal last night?” Jack asked tersely.
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13
“Nope. Just me and the loons, a few herons, some leopard frogs…” he leant back
against the now closed door, arms folded across his chest as he watched Jack work up a good
steam.
“You saw something,” he pressed.
“What, like a UFO?” Ryan grinned.
“Quit fucking around, Walsh. You were in contact with a canine last night.”
“Really? Was I conscious, because I don’t remember that.”
“Your stuff is up on the rocks at Aitkin, like you tore out of there and you left behind
blood and canine hair.”
Ryan sobered. Geez, how much did Jack know? “I set up a station and left for the
night. I’m going back there today. What happened after I left isn’t in my control. But from the
sounds of it, I might have some equipment replacing to do.” He busied himself pulling boxes
of lenses out of drawers and putting them into a nylon bag.
“Take your shirt off,” Jack said calmly.
Now that was an interesting request. Ryan glanced at him over his shoulder, still bent
over his bag. “How was that again?”
“There was a lot of blood on the rocks. If it’s not yours, you won’t have any scratch
marks. Take off your shirt.”
Ryan slowly turned around. He raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Didn’t think I was
your type, Allen.”
Jack’s cheeks flushed but Ryan couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment. The two
expressions looked surprisingly similar, assuming he’d ever actually seen both on Jack
before. His lips were pressed tightly together and his gaze dropped to the side.
Ryan sensed an exasperated sigh was coming. He wasn’t disappointed.
Jack did the cute little hand through his hair manoeuvre. “You aren’t obligated under
any law. You can refuse to comply to my requests. But goddamn it, Ryan, I’ve known you for
thirty-four years, if you’ve got nothing to hide, just show me.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t have anything to hide. I have lots of things I keep to myself.” He
crossed the short distance to Jack. “Some of the secrets I keep have a way of making people
uncomfortable.”
Jack blinked. “You haven’t scared me yet.”
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Ryan held his gaze for another long moment, then he laughed and pulled his sweater
over his head. He wadded it up in his hand and held his arms out to his sides. “Well?”
“Turn around,” Jack muttered, making a lazy spinning motion in the air with his
finger.
Ryan rotated. “Would you like me to remove anything else for your inspection?” he
couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice as he came to face Jack again.
“No scratches.”
“I told you there wouldn’t be.”
Jack shook his head. “Actually, you didn’t. You were pretty quiet on the subject.”
“I’m quiet on a lot of subjects.”
“There you go again with that cryptic shit. You always were a silent sonofabitch,” Jack
said, finally cracking a smile.
Jack had a sexy little twist in his smile. One side of his lips curved up, the other corner
turned down like he was perpetually up to mischief. It had always tempted Ryan into
guessing what wicked thoughts traipsed through his mind and if they included illicit sex
with reclusive men.
“I talk when it’s important,” Ryan answered on a shrug.
“Is there anything about the last twenty-four hours you might deem as important?”
“Oh, yeah.” Ryan moved closer. “The next twenty-four might be the kicker, though.”
Jack, nearly eye level with him, tipped his chin up a fraction of an inch, meeting his
gaze steadily. “Anything I might find important?”
“I’m hoping, but it’s up to you.”
“What’s up to me?” Jack’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Did he risk it? Would Jack push him away and storm out the door, kicking up a new
trail of dust as he roared down the driveway, or would he be interested? After thirty-four
years, he thought he knew Jack pretty well. Ryan didn’t think he’d make a stink, but this
would definitely push their awkward friendship over a line.
“It’s up to you to kiss me,” Ryan replied calmly.
Jack’s eyes widened. “Do what now?”
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Damn, he was making a stink. “I was thinking if we were going to take that pup-tent
tour Clancy mentioned, we might need to get a little closer.” God, he hoped he said that with
a straight face. He didn’t think he’d hold up well if Jack started laughing.
“And kissing you accomplishes that?” Jack questioned. “Well, yeah, I guess it does,”
he said, answering his own question. “In the scheme of eliminating all available space
between people, that’s pretty damn close. There’re other ways of being close. Like
emotionally close, which could be just as important in getting along with someone. But I
think you’re coming on to me. You’re coming on to me, right? Sure seems like you’re coming
on to me. You know I’m on the clock working a case? Getting close, the way you mean it, is a
little unconventional.”
“You’re babbling.” Ryan grinned. “That’s cute.”
Jack started blushing again. It darkened his throat and reddened his ears. “I just need
information. Did you or didn’t you see the wolf I’m trying to track. The way I figure it,
you’ve found him and he’s fascinating from a naturist’s point of view so you want to do a
photo study of him. I’m all for that. You can study him until you’re blue in the face, but I’m
going to have to relocate him since he’s freaking out the locals.”
“Jack.”
“Relocating him will give him a chance to live the rest of his happy canine life without
unnecessarily coming into contact with humans. You’d think with your interest in preserving
nature and the natural order that you’d be on board with this. Why are you standing in the
way of this animal’s life? If a hunter comes across him, or some scared local with a gun, he’ll
be killed. Then where would your wildlife study be?”
“Jack.”
“It’s selfish. That’s all I’m saying. And you could have helped prevent the death of a
very rare and unusually large Timber wolf—assuming that’s what it is and that the thing
actually exists.”
“Are you done?”
Jack looked up at Ryan, confusion lifting a hint of a wrinkle between his eyes. “Yeah, I
think so.”
“If I’m going to take all my clothes off for your scratch inspection, I at least want a kiss
first.”
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“Oh,” Jack said, air exploding from his lungs. Did he look a little disappointed? “If
you say you aren’t scratched, I believe you. Let me tag along for your trek to the lake shore. I
want to look around a little.”
Ryan closed the gap between them. “I’m trying to be subtle. I think I’m being a little
too subtle, so how about I spell it out for you.”
Their chests were touching. Jack’s breath smelled like cinnamon buns and coffee.
“Yeah, okay,” Jack agreed.
“I like you. I think you like me. I’m pretending this is all about showing you evidence
that my body is clear of markings, but what it really is, is an excuse to get naked with you so
I can explore yours. If you’re okay with that, say uh-huh.”
Jack’s hands came up, cupping Ryan’s head. Ryan’s stomach did somersaults as Jack
leaned in, sipping kisses from his lips in soft questing captures.
“Uh-huh,” Jack murmured, his tongue slipping out to flick the fullest part of Ryan’s
upper lip.
“Thank God,” Ryan growled.
He wedged his hands between their bodies, hurriedly unbuttoning Jack’s khaki DNR
shirt. A white undershirt thwarted Ryan only momentarily before he had it hauled up Jack’s
body and off.
“Thought you liked pretty boys,” Jack said.
“You’re pretty,” Ryan argued.
Jack’s tongue touched the tip of Ryan’s nearly driving him wild. This was definitely
Ryan’s preferred way of tasting cinnamon buns, he decided. And if this is how Jack routinely
questioned witnesses, Ryan was going to confess to every DNR crime in the books. Hell, he’d
make up some new ones too.
“Bite your tongue,” Jack scoffed.
“Better idea. You bite it for me.”
Bare chest against bare chest, Ryan had to stop and just feel the way their warm skin
touched, one giving when the other breathed in an erratic dance of bodies sharing limited
space. Around the sensation of crisp hairs and pliable flesh, Ryan’s metal buckle rasped
Jack’s. Jack seemed to linger on the metallic sound, his attention stolen from their kiss, to
simply breathe against one another.
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“Is this for real?” Jack wondered aloud.
Ryan spread his fingers as he rubbed his hands up Jack’s sides, then around his upper
back and down. Back dipped and began to rise at the hip over low slung pants. The finely
knitted texture of skin became rough cotton and still he pressed his hands on Jack’s body
until he had handfuls of firm, round ass.
“Feels real to me,” Ryan decided.
Jack moaned.
Ryan took that opportunity to steal another kiss, tasting the moan on his tongue like
Jack’s mouth was a ripe fruit and the sounds, its nectar. Jack loosened Ryan’s belt and pants,
then his own. Lips still pressed together, tasting, coaxing, memorising each other, they
awkwardly stepped out of their pants.
Ryan stumbled.
Jack righted him, laughing. “You’re supposed to be good on your feet.”
“I’m better on your back.”
Jack swore softly, looking into Ryan’s eyes with enough heat to make him shiver with
need.
“The condoms are in my room.” Ryan stepped away, walking backwards that
direction. “You coming?”
Jack quirked a smile at the double meaning.
Ryan slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, easing them back and
forth playfully. “There’s another half yard of cotton you need to look under in your scratch
inspection, Officer Allen.”
“Or you could drop them right there.”
Ryan lifted a brow. “Oh yeah?”
“Uh huh.”
Ryan reached inside his shorts and stroked his open hand over the turgid length
inside. Jack’s eyes were riveted to that caress.
“I think about this being your hand sometimes,” Ryan confessed. “Almost always
makes me come too soon.”
Jack’s dry laugh wasn’t one of humour, but pleased surprise. “When you touch
yourself, thinking of me, what am I doing?”
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Ryan shuddered, caught his bottom lip with his teeth. Jack was too far away. Five or
more feet separated them. He took another step backwards, happy to see Jack took one
forward. The distance was the same, but intent changed everything. They were headed for
his bedroom.
He’d finally know what it was like to have Jack touch him.
“You’re looking at me with hot, dry eyes. The flecks of gold seem brighter against the
green than usual and you’re breathing hard, like you’ve been running or you’re going to
come with me because I turn you on, too.”
“You do turn me on,” Jack said, taking another step.
Ryan smiled, caressing his shaft. Moisture beaded at the tip and wet his palm. It
should have been Jack’s palm. “I think of you holding my cock and going down on it until
it’s slippery.”
“And then?” Jack came closer.
Ryan stepped back, finally breaching his bedroom. “Then you straddle me and ride.
Your face twists when you come and I imagine you making a small noise, unable to hold
back.”
Jack’s grin turned wicked. “I don’t make small noises.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” Jack shook his head for added emphasis. “I’m a quiet guy who can’t believe the
man he’s wanted since our fifth college reunion, wants him back.”
Ryan stopped moving away. “That’s gotta be the sexiest admission I’ve ever heard.”
He pulled off his shorts unselfconsciously. “C’mere.”
Jack still looked a little nervous, and it occurred to Ryan that the simple questions
earlier had been asked out of disbelief and shyness. The truth emboldened Ryan, as did the
look Jack was giving him right that second.
He walked tentatively towards Ryan. “Are you sure you want this?”
“I’m standing stark naked in my bedroom, stroking my cock, and asking you to take
over. Does it look like I’m confused on this issue?” Ryan asked.
“Guess not.”
“Am I out of line, or are you wanting the same thing I want?”
Jack shook his head, then he nodded.
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Ryan couldn’t help but laugh at his confusion. “Jack, do you want me?”
“God, yes.”
“Then get your ass over here and stake your claim on my pole, because you’re the
only one I want climbing it.”
“Wait.”
Ryan thought his eyes must be bugging. “Seriously?” He looked down at his dick. It
seemed straight enough to him.
Jack closed his eyes and put a hand on his hip. Ryan had to cover his mouth to keep
from laughing and compounding the problem, but Jack had stood in that position more than
a few times fully dressed. With nothing but socks and underwear, it was pretty damn funny.
Sexy, hot, delicious, endearing, and fiendishly hilarious.
“Why are we doing this?”
“Because we want to?” Was it a trick question, Ryan wondered?
“No, Ryan, I’m not into casual sex. I want to,” he opened his eyes, worry lines crinkled
them at the outside corners. “I mean, God, look at you. You’re beautiful, and,” he motioned
towards Ryan’s cock, “impressive.”
“You’re speaking English. I’m pretty sure you are because I understand the words
coming out of your mouth, but it’s pretty much not making sense here.”
Jack came to him. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
“That makes two of us,” Ryan said, feeling the niggling pain of rejection start.
“Ryan—Jesus,” Jack’s gaze beseeched his. “This is a small town. There aren’t many of
us around out here and we could have a pretty amazing thing if we do this right.”
“Why do I think this isn’t a debate on who’s topping?”
Jack laughed. It’s what Ryan had been going for and it eased some of the tension.
“If we mess up a relationship that has the potential of going for the long haul because
we can’t keep our dicks in our pants, that would be a travesty,” Jack reasoned. “If this is a
relationship built on lust, it doesn’t have a chance in hell anyway.”
“Your level of optimism is astounding.”
“I want more than a fuck,” Jack said flatly. “That’s the half-full of it.”
“And you think that because I want to make blissful gay patty-cake sex with you, all I
want is a temporary orgasm,” Ryan stated just as flatly.
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He could feel his dick lose its starch already. What a spectacular way to find out
you’ve been underestimated. Geez.
“I think there’s a strong likelihood that this would be a quick fix for both of us.”
“Or we could have both—sex now and a relationship. I’m capable of multi-tasking,”
Ryan muttered. When did wanting sex feel so cheap?
“Don’t get your britches in a bunch—”
Ryan waved his hands by his naked parts pointedly.
“I’d think that the idea of someone wanting a lasting relationship would mean a little
more to you,” Jack said, his tone growing terse.
“It does,” Ryan softened his voice, trying to show Jack beyond words what his heart
wanted. “You do. If you want to wait, I’ll wait.”
“Really?” Jack asked surprised.
“Do you know why Justin and I broke up?” Ryan asked.
“Not really. You guys were together for a long time.”
“Six years. I thought I loved him, and it used to make me angry when he said I didn’t
love him the way he loved me. We broke up because he saw something I’d managed to
overlook. I’ve been in love with you for more years than I care to count. Justin saw it every
time we talked, and it ate him up inside until he left me to find someone who felt that way
about him.
“It took me a solid year after he left to admit that he was right. I put him through hell.
So if waiting for you to see how special I think you are is what it takes, I’ll wait a lifetime.”
Ryan didn’t wait to see the look in Jack’s eyes. He turned and retrieved his clothes,
dressing. It wasn’t until he tightened his belt for the second time, that he allowed himself to
search out Jack’s face.
Jack had moved behind him, and when Ryan looked up, Jack pulled him easily into
his arms. “You have no idea how hard it is not to touch you.”
“You can touch me anytime you want to,” Ryan assured him. “When you decide
you’re ready, let me know. You’ll have to make the first move.”
“Thought I made it this time.”
“Yeah, and then slammed the door on it,” Ryan teased. “I’m not going to overstep
again. You come to me when you want to take this thing further, okay?”
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“Okay.”
Jack nuzzled Ryan’s neck and Ryan wanted to steal the words out of the air, shout fuck
it, and drag Jack to his bedroom.
“You aren’t going to make this easy on me, are you?” Ryan groaned.
Jack trailed kisses up the side of his neck. “I want to learn everything about you.”
“You already know the important stuff,” Ryan countered.
“I know the stuff that’s public record. I know your family, and I know your business. I
want to know what’s important to you.”
“If this is your way of talking me into taking you to my shoot site, I’ll do it. You only
had to ask. But just realise that if you keep kissing me like this, I’m going to be walking
funny all the way up there.”
“Can’t have that,” Jack murmured suggestively.
He yanked Ryan’s fly downward and reached inside.
Air exploded from Ryan’s chest. “I thought you said no sex.” His eyes rolled back as
Jack took him firmly in hand.
Jack dropped to his knees in front of him, looked up. “According to a former
president, what I’m about to do doesn’t constitute as sex.”
His chuckle was naughty and sent shivers up Ryan’s spine. It was nothing compared
to the rush of hot and cold that sped through his veins when Jack’s mouth closed on Ryan’s
exposed cock.
“Humina, humina, humina, humina.”
Ryan’s child-like noises had Jack laughing. Which was great. Really great. Ball
jiggling, cock vibrating fanfuckingtasticly great.
“Mmm,” Jack moaned, taking Ryan’s cock as deep as he could.
Ryan’s dickhead slipped past the soft palate to the contracting muscles of Jack’s throat.
“God bless President Clinton and his double-talk.”
He gripped Jack’s head, fingers spearing through the light brown waves as Jack’s lips
tightened, and he swallowed around Ryan’s cock, before pulling off. His teeth grazed the
spongy tip, tongue burrowed gently into the tiny hole at the top. Jack’s lips popped over the
helmet ridge then took him deep again.
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Slick and full, Ryan thought his cock might burst. The idea of Jack’s hands on him had
been enough to send him over the edge when he beat-off, the reality of Jack’s mouth on
him—oh, hell, he was going to come!
Ryan tugged on his hair. “I’m gonna come.”
Jack’s fingers snaked into Ryan’s open zipper, curled around his testicles while his
thumb gently massaged the drawing orbs.
“Jack! I’m gonna—”
Jack grunted acknowledgement, held the shaft with his free hand, and swallowed
Ryan as far as he could go.
Understanding wasn’t hard to find. Ryan flexed hard against his mouth, his hips
almost moving of their own accord. Ass flexing, chest heaving, desperately trying to hold
back and let go all at the same time, Ryan cried out, spilling his seed down Jack’s throat.
He thrust to a stop, his fingers still digging into the sides of Jack’s head. “Oh my God.”
Jack sucked off, looking up at Ryan impishly. With the side of his thumb, he wiped the
moisture from the corners of his mouth. “Mm, tasty.”
Ryan threw his head back, laughing. Jack stood and pulled him against his chest. “I
love the way you laugh,” he whispered against Ryan’s ear.
Ryan clutched him close. “The idea of losing you is so much more difficult when you
tell me you want me. You make my knees weak.”
“Nah, I’m just fantastic at giving blow jobs,” Jack joked.
“Tonight, in the pup-tent, I’d like to return the favour if you’ll let me.”
“I’ll think about it.” Jack pulled back far enough to wink. “C’mon. We’d better go
before we lose any more of this day.”
Ryan groaned. “Yes, sir, Officer Allen.”
Jack tussled Ryan’s hair, then dodged out of reach when Ryan made a grab for him.
Jack snagged the nylon bag of supplies, and his shirt, then raced for the truck.
“Hey, no fair! I have to dig out the tent!” Ryan called after him.
Jack laughed. “I guess that means I win.”
It occurred to Ryan that he didn’t really know what the race was about or the prize for
winning, but playfulness seemed to have struck both of them, and that seemed more
important than technicalities.
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Except for one.
He bent down in the closet and pulled out the wrapped tent. Slinging it over his
shoulder, he smiled at Jack through the open front door. As he got to the porch and turned to
lock the cabin, his smile faded somewhat.
What will Jack do when he finds out the truth about my wolf?
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Chapter Three
It was probably four shades of wrong to feel so giddy about giving another guy a
blow job, Jack thought. And it might have been if it’d been anyone other than Ryan Walsh.
How many times had he thought about the lean, sleek body bumping against his?
Couldn’t begin to count them all.
He distinctly remembered looking forward to gym class when they played football,
praying they were on opposite teams so he could tackle him. Ryan had an aloofness about
him that naturally kept people at arm’s length. He was considered a loner. Smart, quiet,
deadly glances from beneath hanging forelocks…that’s how Jack remembered school with
him.
Then there were the glimpses of him during the summer months when college kids
returned home and the town woke its sleepy self up to host picnics and outdoor dances.
Ryan was the watchful shadow in the corner.
Every time Jack even imagined Ryan looking his direction, he got butterflies. The day
he’d discovered that Ryan liked guys had sent his dream life into overdrive. God, to be
kissed by those sultry lips and feel that body move against his, all broad shoulders and long
legs…
He was getting hot just thinking of it.
Ryan asking for Jack’s help from time to time had been Clancy’s idea. Clancy had
probably seen Jack mooning from a distance and thought he’d help his partner out of his
misery. As a result, Jack’s DNR job benefited from the knowledge Ryan had acquired as a
wildlife photographer.
But then there’d been Justin. Justin had stopped the town. His movie star looks and
come hither eyes had every persuasion fascinated. That they’d been solely directed at Ryan
and had sent the town into full gossip mode. Which was probably why Jack had never felt
the need to announce his sexuality.
He knew who he was, so what if the town had an opinion about it.
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Justin had killed Jack’s hopes. Jack hadn’t wanted to give him the time of day. What
he’d wanted, what he’d really wanted was Ryan. Ryan’s teasing eyes and playful smile
haunted every moment of thought when the man entered the room.
Then Justin had left.
Secretly, Jack wanted to cheer. Later he’d wanted to cry because unattainable Ryan
was easy to lust over and know he’d never have. Not with a guy like Justin around. But
single Ryan, just as unattainable because Jack wasn’t his type and never would be, well, that
was just made Jack pathetic.
Jack kept his eyes trained on Ryan’s back as he led the way through the trees. Ryan’s
feet almost hovered they were so silent on the underbrush. Jack, however, tromped. Which
sucked because he was DNR and he should have some skill when sneaking up on the NR.
Ryan’s movements were fluid. His shoulders swayed, his back almost twisted into
each step, but his walk wasn’t awkward. No, Ryan moved like he was part of the woods, like
he belonged there.
He couldn’t fucking believe he’d turned down a chance to have sex with Ryan. What
the hell had he been thinking? Was he worried that Ryan deciding Jack might be his type
after all would be squashed to nothing more than an orgasmic smear after laying him?
Maybe.
What if he didn’t live up to Justin? Or, worse, what if being in love with Ryan from a
distance was sexier than actually sharing the daily baggage?
God, he was shallow.
That wasn’t it either. He had no real fear that Ryan wouldn’t live up to the hype. Jack
was more worried about being a one-nighter for him, a side fling out of nostalgic curiosity
that would be discarded later. If he held out, made Ryan get to know him better—okay,
better than he already did—then maybe he could charm Ryan into actually falling in love
with him.
That was it wasn’t it? Even though Ryan had said he’d wait because both Ryan and
Justin recognised he wanted Jack more.
That had to be a line. It had to be. A great line, but a line.
“You’re awfully quiet back there,” Ryan commented.
“Enjoying the view.”
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Ryan stopped and looked back at him. “Is it wrong that I hope you’re referring to
me?”
Jack gave him a shove on his back. “Keep it movin’ Walsh.”
“Ten paces and we’re there. This is the flattest area before the rocks. I think there was
something about a reciprocal blow job?”
Jack felt like a sappy idiot for grinning, but he kind of liked having Ryan pine for him,
even if it was temporary.
“I want to see your blind, check out the blood reported there. Aren’t you worried
about your equipment?” Jack asked.
“The cops around here are slow, but even I know they’ve already confiscated my stuff.
Why do you think I packed another bag? I need photography equipment to film wildlife.
Pretty sure an etch-n-sketch wouldn’t capture the same intensity.”
“Ha, ha,” Jack monotoned. “Set up the tent. I’ll be right back.”
“You don’t know where the blind is.”
“Rocks facing the lake? Easy enough. I’ll start by looking for blood and a great hiding
place. I’m pretty good at spotting human disturbance.” He pointed to the badge on his shirt.
“Comes with the job.”
“Apparently, so do the guns.” Ryan frowned as he watched Jack reposition the rifles
over his shoulder after removing the nylon bag.
Jack moved off, climbing his way over the rugged, white rock. Pebble skittered under
his feet and he nearly lost his grip twice. He knew Ryan was watching. Way to show off your
skills there, Ace.
Easing over the ledge, he found the way down a little less tricky. Ryan’s hideaway
would have been completely overlooked if Jack hadn’t seen the blood. How had a hiker
found it? The trail by the shore wasn’t too far off. Jack continued down until he stood on the
path.
Afternoon sun glowed warmly around the rocks. Backlighting would be a problem for
anyone shooting into the sunlight. He supposed that may have been the effect Ryan was
after, pleasant glow, shadowed figures of birds on the water. He could see why the location
appealed to him.
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Looking back towards the ledge, at this point in the day, light would glint off a lens.
He supposed that’s how the hiker had seen the blind. But if Ryan had already left the spot,
his camera would have been put away. No camera, no glinting lens.
Jack ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. Carefully making his way up
the rocks, he looked around the nook. There was blood. A lot of blood. Dried and puddled in
some places, an amount like that would have left a mark. Ryan was scratch-free.
So what was wandering around out there un-scratch-free? The wolf? God, he really
didn’t want to have this conversation with Ryan.
He got back to camp, noting the cosy tent barely big enough for two grown men and
gave Ryan a wry smile. “Home sweet home?”
Ryan smiled back, shrugging. “You said you wanted a tour. I’m a full-service kind of
guy.”
Jack’s smile died. “You didn’t tell me you’d seen the wolf.”
“I haven’t.”
Jack explained his theory.
“Maybe an animal came to inspect the human scent my things were leaving in his
territory, he got cut up on the rocks, and the hiker saw the blood.”
He noticed the bundle of branches Ryan was collecting and began picking them up
too. “I guess.”
“You’re determined to think I’m hiding something,” Ryan complained.
“You are. I know you that well, at least.”
“What makes you think I am?”
Jack put the branches beside Ryan’s pile as Ryan began building the fire.
“Normally, when you smile or move, you have this kind of effortless grace. When you
hide something, there’s a strain on your movements. An extra forced ease,” Jack said.
“Because you know me so well,” Ryan scoffed lightly.
“Because I watch you enough to know the difference. Remember when Larry Johnson
ran for student government? You were his best friend, but you got uncomfortable when he
gave his speech to the student body. Found out later he wanted to date Linnea Kolstag, the
reigning treasurer. You knew it was the only reason he was running, not because he wanted
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to make a difference. When you stood beside him for his speech, you had the same
uncomfortable body language you do now.”
“One instance,” Ryan dismissed.
“Joanna Fredericks, Michael Aplee, Susan Friestad, Maris Halvorson. Should I
continue, or do you need me to spell out all the times you knew something about them and
wouldn’t tell?”
“No.”
“I’ll find out eventually. What are you hiding?” Jack asked, trying again. He squatted
down beside Ryan, looking at his profile intently. He watched the way his eyelashes
swooped down to conceal his eyes, the quick flicker of a smile and the almost shrug that was
more of a twitch.
Ryan faced him, absently poking tinder into the fledgeling flames. The sounds of
evening already circled closer and the sun, blocked by the rock outcropping as it descended
across the lake, out of sight, make the moment feel intimate.
He just had that way about him. Details became significant when Jack was with him.
His fingers curled around a branch, the yellow flames highlighting each expression as it
crossed his face and disappeared—they all felt precious somehow.
Ryan took Jack’s upper arm and tugged gently. It knocked Jack off balance, but they
were close enough that it served only to make him lean heavily on Ryan. “I’ll tell you. I
promise. I want to because it’s important to me that you understand, but I also need to know
that I matter to you as much as you matter to me.”
Those words turned Jack’s fears to smoke. How could he doubt the look in those eyes?
That expression wasn’t one of a player trying to get laid, it was the look of a man who was
waiting with his heart on his sleeve.
“You matter, Ryan. It’s scary how much.”
The ghost of a smile touched Ryan’s lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He kissed Jack and Jack thought he could taste wood smoke, pine, and heated coals in
the easy embrace. It felt comfortable. If felt safe. Jack wound an arm around Ryan’s
shoulders, holding him as close as he could without toppling them. Ryan didn’t seem to have
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any such concerns and they fell to their backs, shoulder to shoulder, kiss broken but still
smiling as they looked at each other.
“I used to wonder what kissing you would be like,” Ryan said.
“And?”
“It’s sunshine. Makes me hot and toasty. You feel…strong. I like it.”
Jack puzzled. “Strong? You’re twice my strength.”
“Yeah, but you’re solid. I kiss you and it feels like I’m kissing forever.”
“Makes for sore lips,” Jack teased.
Ryan rolled up on his side. “It makes me want forever. With you. Does that scare
you?”
Ryan’s face blocked the darkening sky. Only a little light remained and the firelight
was too far distant to have much illuminating effect at this stage of dusk. His hair hung
down over his shoulders, moving slightly in the nearly non-existent breeze. His bottomless
brown eyes appeared black and his eyebrows had drawn together in the middle, waiting for
Jack’s answer.
Jack twisted a strand of Ryan’s hair around his finger. “I think it should. I think it’s
supposed to.”
“But?”
“But it also feels like we’ve spent a lifetime getting this far. I can’t feel like it’s wrong,”
Jack murmured.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t over think it.”
Ryan kissed him. Jack sank his fingers into Ryan’s hair, relishing the feel of warm
breath when autumn evening air stung his cheeks in contrast. Silken threads held his hands
enthralled as Jack deepened the kiss. Still soft, but now needy, Ryan’s kisses grew more
demanding. He welcomed Jack’s tongue into his mouth, suckling it, tangling with it until
they were both breathless.
Ryan’s hands stole downwards along Jack’s body. He unbuttoned the shirt and
shoved the undershirt up to reach Jack’s chest and belly. Then dipping his head, Ryan
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tracked kisses along Jack’s jaw, down his neck, the length of his sternum and back up to
capture a cold-pinched nipple in his mouth.
Cold to hot on the sensitive bud, Jack hissed sharply, his back arching of its own
accord as he unconsciously reached for more of the drawing warmth that lit his insides with
a different kind of fire.
“Now?” Jack asked.
“Uh huh,” he said, letting go of the nipple.
The cold, wet shock had Jack hissing all over again. He grabbed Ryan’s head and
yanked it back to his icy flesh. “No more talking. Frostbite.”
Ryan nibbled, apparently liking the suggestion of “biting”, even if Jack hadn’t
intended it. Yet the sensation had Jack squirming.
The pressure of a hand sliding down his torso, fingers dipping into his pants,
effectively divided Jack’s attention. Ryan’s inquisitive mouth followed the same path. Jack’s
breath came shallowly, his abdomen caving with pleasure the lower Ryan moved.
His belt and pants undone in swift order, Jack squeezed his eyes shut, absorbed with
the sensation of having his lower body bared to all of nature. He liked the feel of cold air on
his heated shaft. He flexed his cock, stretching it stupidly as though it would appeal to Ryan
faster.
He needn’t have worried. Ryan traced the underside with the tip of his tongue,
massaged the soft underspot where flared rim curved open.
Jack bit back a moan.
From there, he followed the trail of a single drop to its origin, sipping from the tip.
Hot, cold, dry, wet, sucking, flicking, it was enough to drive Jack crazy. With a grunt of
frustration, he lifted his hips to Ryan.
Ryan chuckled. “I thought you said you were a quiet lover.”
“You gonna hold me to that?”
“Not on your life,” Ryan murmured. “Writhe all you want, babe. Just come
screamin’.”
Ryan made his mouth into a tight “O” and pushed it firmly down Jack’s cock. His
flattened tongue on the underside stroked and moulded to Jack’s form. Ryan reached up and
pressed his hand to Jack’s chest as he began to suck.
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Pleasure rippled through the friction, mounting with each outward draw and inward
swell. His balls pulled up into his body both from cold and pleasure as the familiar tingle of
orgasm began its parade on his senses, starting at the base of his spine.
Seeming to sense he was close, Ryan worked him faster, deeper. Jack’s hips came up,
fucking Ryan’s mouth the same way Ryan had been unable to control himself earlier. Jack
bucked, grinding his teeth and shouting into each thrust.
Suddenly he couldn’t move, so taken with orgasm as his ass clenched tight and his
body convulsed. Volcano sparks of pleasure shot embers behind his eyes, down his thighs,
along each nerve ending. Jack erupted on a howl, not even trying to hold back the sounds his
body demanded of him.
Ryan cleaned him off and crawled back up Jack’s body. “I’ll never believe another
word you say, hot stuff. You’re a screamer through and through.” He chuckled.
Jack joined in, pulling him down on top. “I don’t care what the former president
claims. That right there was spectacular sex.”
“So you’re opposed to something a little more invasive?” Ryan hedged.
“Bodies are just bodies, Ryan,” Jack said, cupping Ryan’s face. “It’s the heart and mind
I’m more concerned about. When are you going to trust me with yours?”
Ryan’s gaze flicked away. “We should get some sleep. You probably want to watch for
the wolf tonight. Do you want to take turns?”
Disappointment speared Jack. He’d given Ryan the opening. Ryan had chosen not to
take it. He talked about forever and relationships and love. Didn’t he know there couldn’t be
love without trust?
“Yeah, let’s take turns,” Jack answered instead.
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Chapter Four
Jack rolled, throwing an arm across his face. He opened his eyes to pitch black,
blinking against it as though it would help. Something had changed. Something was
different. He lay still, listening, quieting his breathing.
There. He heard rustling.
Jack reached behind him, hoping to nudge Ryan awake. His hand kept going into
nothingness. Jack turned his head, cocking his ear to listen for the sounds of sleep. He
stretched his hand out again, only to find that Ryan wasn’t there.
Where the fuck did he go?
The purposeful regular movement headed away from the tent. Maybe Ryan went to
check it out. Or maybe he went to the bathroom.
Jack’s heart raced, nearly drowning out the sound outside. But it had moved off, and if
it was the wolf, he needed to follow it, tranquilise it. Jack grabbed his rifles where he’d put
them when he’d gone to sleep and groped blindly for the flashlight. Items in hand, he left the
tent.
“Ryan?” he whispered.
Ryan didn’t answer and Jack didn’t want to scare away the animal. He set out in the
direction of the rustling. Clicking his flashlight to the lowest setting, he barely discerned
branches to step over them.
A large shape crossed an open expanse of trees. Jack pursued. It loped just out of
reach and well beyond the limitations of the flashlight. Jack kept going until the creature
broke the tree line into a clearing. It looked back in his direction. The moon high over head
left no doubt. The Timber wolf was huge.
It paused as though waiting for Jack. Jack cautiously reached the edge of the clearing,
lifted his tranq rifle.
The wolf whined, then turned and came straight for him. Jack fumbled the rifle,
levelled it and took aim. The wolf stopped ten feet from him. A low growl curled its lips and
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the animal flashed its teeth in warning. Lowering its massive head, he looked directly at Jack,
neither submissive or aggressive.
He’d seen that look before. Jack squeezed the trigger.
The wolf yelped and turned to run. Jack followed him until the graceful strides
became sluggish. Only then did he realise that the wolf led him straight back to the
campground before it collapsed.
“Easy, boy. Easy, now.” Jack approached, hands outstretched.
The wolf drunkenly raised his head and whined. He flopped back down. Jack turned
the flashlight on its brightest level looking over the amazing beast in wonder.
“You’re magnificent,” he murmured.
The wolf blinked sleepily, panting rapidly as the drug took effect. Jack came closer,
stroking his neck and shoulder.
“It’s okay, big guy. I won’t let anyone hurt you. We just need to find you a safer
home.” Jack twisted on his heels, looking out over the campsite with his flashlight. “Ryan!
Ryan where are you? You gotta come see this guy. He’s enormous.”
Silence greeted him. Nothing stirred. Had he gotten hurt? Was he out taking night
shots?
“Ryan? Ryan!”
Jack sighed, disappointed.
He picked up his kit and pulled out the rope and bound the wolf’s legs. This one was
too big to move without the truck. Probably too big to move unless he had canvas and
another person helping him. Either way, this would require a cage and the truck, but he
couldn’t just leave him here bound. Where the hell was Ryan?
“That tranq isn’t going to last more than a few hours. It’s now or never.” He looked
around one more time. In a moment of dread, he cautiously climbed the rocks and shone the
light down over the drop. Nothing. Nor did anything light up from the blind Ryan had used.
“Ryan,” he shouted, trying once more. “I’m going for the truck. If you can hear me, I’ll
be back in half an hour with headlights.”
He almost worried that the wolf had attacked Ryan except there was no blood on its
muzzle. Distracted, concerned, he jogged through the woods as fast as he dared. Reaching
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the truck, he revved the engine and drove the narrow dirt road to the rock wall. It took him
another hour to haul the Timber wolf into the cage using canvas as a sling.
Jack covered the cage with the tarp. The evenings were cool enough and the shock
great enough on the animal that it could be dangerous for it. It was better to help it conserve
heat. Reluctantly, Jack drove back to the cabin, thinking Ryan had returned without him, but
the cabin was locked up tight.
Reluctantly, Jack picked up his walkie. “Allen to base.”
“Base. Over.”
“Notify the Sheriff’s office, we’re gonna need a search party south east Aitkin Lake on
the land bridge with Big Sandy. Over.”
“Who went missing? Over.”
“Ryan Walsh,” he couldn’t bring himself to say over.
“Got it. Over and out.”
Jack climbed back into the cab, looking out the windshield and praying for an idea. He
drove to the campsite, hoping Ryan had come back. He searched the tent, trekked around the
site and looked over the bluff again.
They’d known each other for years, but in the grand scheme of things, he’d just found
Ryan. He couldn’t lose him now.
“Ryan, goddamn it! Where are you?”
He waited for the deputy to arrive and explained what had happened, even showing
him the enormous sleeping wolf. Finally the deputy made him leave the scene. The sun was
coming up and though he really wanted to search, he needed to check the cabin one last time,
leave a note or something, before he took the wolf to a safe habitat.
* * * *
Ryan groaned against the throbbing in his skull. He raised his hands. Rough rope
chafed his wrists. Experimentally, he shifted his legs. They were tied too. He blinked past
bleary vision to the metal cage and dingy canvas.
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“I can’t wait any longer. The animal needs to be relocated before he wakes up.” Jack’s
voice drifted to him. “No, nothing yet. Jeff said he’d call on our channel if they found Ryan. I
just can’t figure out where he went.”
Ryan didn’t hear another voice. Phone conversation, most likely.
“Thanks, Clancy. I owe you one.”
Jack slapped the side of his truck. Ryan felt it vibrate against his side.
“Jesus, Ryan, just give us a sign. A yell. Anything,” Jack muttered under his breath.
Ryan swallowed past the dryness in his throat. “Water would be good.”
“Ryan?”
“Here.”
Hesitantly, the tarp pulled. Jack’s face filled the opening and fresh air rushed in to
greet Ryan. “Untie me, please?” Ryan asked.
“How did you get in there? Where’s the wolf?” Jack asked in rapid-fire.
Ryan waited for the truth to come to Jack, but the dawning fury on Jack’s face wasn’t
what he’d planned on.
“Sonofabitch! Is this some kind of chain-me-to-a-tree, nature-lover passive aggressive
shit? You think by taking the wolf’s place you’re making a statement? Do you know what
you’ve just done to that wolf? He’s gonna be a prize for a hunter. He’s gonna get shot and
mounted because you couldn’t put its needs before your own set of principles.”
“Jack, no, that’s not what happened.”
“Really? Because the wolf didn’t untie himself, unlock the cage, and then strip you
down to take his place. You did that.”
“You’re right on both counts. He didn’t untie himself and I did take his place, but
you’re barking up the wrong conclusion. Excuse the pun,” Ryan snapped with irritation.
“Haven’t you ever been unable to explain something?”
“Yeah, like right now and why I thought you’d help me find him before he had a
bullet lodged between his eyes,” Jack fumed.
“While it’s truly heart-warming to have you worried about a furry four-legged
creature, could you let me out of here so I can get dressed? We’ll go inside and talk about
this. You’ve got the wrong idea.”
Momentary confusion clouded Jack’s eyes. He frowned. “Who tied you up?”
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36
“I’d tell you, but you wouldn’t believe me. You might call off the search party
though.”
“I’ll call it off. You’re staying put.”
Jack flipped the tarp over the top of the cage, letting in more light. Then he turned his
back and punched numbers into his cell phone. “Jeff. Call off the search. I found him. Some
asshole tied him up naked.” A pause, then, “No, he’s fine.” Jack pulled the phone from his
ear. “Do you want to press charges?”
Ryan stared at the back of Jack’s head. “No.”
“He says no. Thanks, Jeff. Tell Theresa I said hi.” Jack spun back around and unlocked
the cage. He pulled a pocket knife out and reached into the cage to cut the ropes.
“I can’t get through the door of this thing,” Ryan noted drolly. “You’ll have to take it
apart.”
“You and the wolf, both. Wasn’t made for giant wolves or men. Tell that to the guy
who put you in here next time.”
Ryan shot him a look. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
Once Ryan had his feet on solid ground, he grabbed Jack’s shoulders and hauled him
in for a kiss. It took him a minute to respond, but having Jack’s arms circle Ryan’s naked
body to hold him close felt like his world had been righted again.
“Let’s go inside. I’ll tell you everything,” Ryan promised. “I just have one request.”
“What’s that?” Jack said, his voice husky. “Don’t think I’m letting you off on this one.
Whoever helped you free the wolf is going to be on a work order with the DNR for the next
year,” he scolded. “I’ll make sure Deputy Jeff approves it.”
“You’re getting ahead of the discussion.” Ryan smiled to soften his words. “My only
request is that you let me finish talking before you start yelling, or walking out my door. Will
you do that?”
Jack’s lips tightened. He nodded briskly.
“Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I need some clothes.”
“And if I do mind?”
“I still need clothes. More fun to tear off later,” Ryan teased, winking.
Jack thought it would be nearly impossible to stay mad at Ryan, he was wrong. Aside
from the chemistry, the stunt Ryan had pulled made him angrier than hell. It showed little
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37
respect for Jack’s job and his position as a DNR officer. It showed selfishness Jack hadn’t seen
in the man before.
Above all, it mocked their relationship.
Granted their relationship was new, but it didn’t feel new. They’d grown up together,
built forts in the trees not far from here where Jack’s family home butted up against Ryan’s.
They’d dared each other and the other boys they knew to jump from rope swings into Aitkin
Lake. They’d jet-skied on Big Sandy Lake and fished on the piers.
They’d even spent the summer scratching themselves and each other’s backs when the
lakes developed the micro organism that caused The Itch, yet they’d refused to quit
swimming. In Boy Scouts, they’d camped together and learned things about nature that had
sent both of them into their respective fields.
Jack had once hitched a ride to the local drive in, by hiding in Ryan’s trunk. Then
they’d spent the evening with two other friends running around the dark lot behind the
concession stand playing tag.
He thought he knew Ryan. This latest stunt didn’t fit with what he thought he knew.
It disappointed Jack. Maybe it was because they seemed to know each other so well that
they’d jumped right into a physical relationship from the years of friendship they’d already
built. Maybe it was the honeymoon stage of lust and crushes and discovery of a mutual
attraction.
Jack hadn’t thought so. But having Ryan take advantage of Jack’s dedication to his job,
then making light of it, hurt. Probably more than it should have. It felt like the betrayal of a
lover, an irreversible fracture to the rose-coloured dream Jack had been in for the last twenty-
four hours.
Jack sat silently on Ryan’s couch. Whatever this explanation was, it had better be
damn good.
Ryan came back to the living room, having gotten dressed. He sat sideways on the
couch beside Jack.
“Do you remember telling stories around the campfire when we were in Boy Scouts?”
Ryan began. When Jack nodded, Ryan continued. “There was one the troop leader used to
tell about enormous wolves that roamed the woods and snatched young boys out alone.”
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Jack nodded again. He remembered. It had served the very important point of making
sure none of them ventured into the woods without a buddy. Effective story, if a little mean.
Considering the size of the Timber wolf he’d just found, Jack wondered what the troop
leader would say about this one.
“Those wolves do exist. There aren’t many of them around, never were, but they exist.
For their size, the wolves are difficult to find and mostly come around at night.”
Ryan stopped, picking up Jack’s hand before he spoke again. “I’ve known about them
for a long time. My family—we’re protective of them.”
Jack clamped his jaw to keep from talking. He had a lot to say about protection and
idiot hunters with guns who didn’t care about rarities in the animal kingdom.
“More than protective, it’s more like—” Ryan sighed suddenly. “Fuck it. I’m getting
nowhere pussy-footing around the subject, so I’m just going to say it.” He seemed to be
steeling his reserve. “Last night, you caught a wolf. You caught me.”
Jack felt the adrenaline hit his bloodstream, thump his heart twice erratically, then the
cold sweat hit. He’d been prepared for honesty. Instead he got Halloween. He started to
protest. Ryan squeezed his hand, keeping him from yanking it away.
“You promised to hear me out.”
Sure he’d promised, but this bullshit wasn’t part of the deal.
“One male relative per generation turns in his thirty-fifth year. I’m the last of my kind,
and apparently, a late bloomer.” Ryan rushed ahead, talking over any objection Jack would
have made. “We don’t attack people. The blood you saw on the ledge was mine and in that
form I heal fast. Sometimes I hunt game, but I bring it back here to clean and cook when I
change back.
“I didn’t start changing until this year. My grandfather once told me that generations
ago, the changeling came into his new form on his twelfth year. The wolf our troop leader
used to talk about was my dad.”
“Your dad died of cancer,” Jack interjected when he found his voice. It still shook with
anger, but he was proud of the way he held his temper in check.
“Twenty years ago, Dad died of cancer. Grandpa died a year after him. It’s not
romantic and it’s not Hollywood, it’s just the way it is. Why do you think there’s a carved
Timber wolf in the town square?” Ryan pressed.
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“Because the Timber wolf is representative of Minnesota and we’re surrounded by
forest land,” Jack contested.
“Because my family founded this town and named it after a great-great-great-
grandmother. She was our Native American tie to these woods, Jack.”
“Wow. You’ll say anything to sell a story.”
Ryan got up and began pacing. “Okay. I’m keeping you to that promise you
made…which you’ve already broken. No talking, no leaving, got it?”
Once again, Jack nodded his consent.
Ryan slowly removed his clothes, reluctantly taking them off and folding them on the
coffee table. Jack watched with interest.
This oughta be good. He’ll strain a little, writhe, then tell me he needs a full moon to change
properly. So why did he feel distinctly uneasy?
Ryan stripped, squatted on the floor, closed his eyes and bowed his head. His dark
locks fell forward concealing his face. The energy in the room seemed to change, growing
warmer until Ryan’s shoulders gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat.
He grunted, bowed his back. His skin stretched, darkened. Hair sprouted down his
spine, a dusky coal on beige.
Jack clenched his fists into the couch cushions. Don’t run, don’t run, don’t run, he
chanted.
Seconds passed, and yet they developed with horrifying clarity as each one
manifested another canine trait that was both impossible and terrifying. Hands became
paws. Black hair became tan and charcoal. Human back became furred and narrow until the
creature that stood across the coffee table had no trace of humanity left.
Ryan whined, cocked his head. His tongue lolled playfully.
Jack got up on rubbery knees. “You won’t bite me. You’re Ryan. I wouldn’t believe it,
but I saw it myself.” He was talking to himself, yet his soothing tone was all for the giant
beast sharing the living room with him.
Jack edged around the low table. Ryan sat patiently. Jack reached him, cautiously
holding out his hand. His heart raced and he licked his lips to re-wet them. Patting Ryan’s
head, he sank his fingers into the thick fur, then rubbed firmly into Ryan’s scruff around his
neck.
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40
“You’re amazing,” he murmured.
Ryan whined, rose up on his hind legs and pushed Jack to the floor on his back. Jack
laughed, turning his head away when Ryan enthusiastically licked his face over and over.
“Stop. Geez, Ry, you need a toothbrush.”
Ryan stopped, panting happily on Jack’s chest. Jack’s attention snagged as the scruff
grew smaller. He felt like he needed to open his eyes wider to take in all the changes. Not one
feature, but several at a time shifted and transformed until Ryan sprawled across Jack,
completely naked.
“Wow,” Jack murmured. What he’d just witnessed went beyond words. “Just…wow.”
“So, you okay with this?” Ryan asked.
“My boyfriend is so cool!”
Ryan laughed.
“I’m sorry. I really thought you were jerking me around. I couldn’t figure out why,
since you’d never been that selfish before. I should’ve trusted you and stuck with my
instincts.”
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed. “You should’ve. You’re important to me. I wouldn’t have
shown anyone else this.”
“You developed your change after Justin left,” Jack mused, counting back the years.
“He didn’t know it was a possibility. I knew him a matter of years. I’ve known you my
whole life. I want you to be a part of all the pieces of me.”
Ryan seemed to be hedging cautiously towards hopeful acceptance. It was strange
because Jack thought of him as being a confident, self-sufficient sort and the idea that Ryan
needed Jack to be all right with his other side, touched him.
“I definitely like all your pieces,” Jack murmured, running his hands down Ryan’s
naked back.
“You’re hard,” Ryan noted.
“So are you.”
“It doesn’t freak you out that two minutes ago I was a wolf, and now I just really want
to get physical with you?”
Jack felt a little sheepish and it must have translated in his expression, because Ryan’s
smile widened and his dark brown eyes twinkled with mirth.
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“I won’t deny it’s a little unsettling, but it’s also a turn on,” Jack admitted.
“I want to move forward with you. You’ve been a major part of my life, and I want
you to stay in it.”
“I’m staying. You’re one wild thing this particular DNR officer wants to protect on a
permanent basis,” Jack said. He grew thoughtful. “You won’t do that randomly, will you?”
“Change? Not anymore. For the first few weeks, I would feel it coming on and get
somewhere unpopulated. Unfortunately, some of the town people saw me. I growled to
warn them off.”
“You think you would have hurt them?” Jack asked.
“I wasn’t sure. It’s not like I have another werewolf around to talk to. I felt in control,
but scaring them away seemed smarter. I’ve never hurt anyone. I’d never hurt you,” Ryan
added.
“But you have control now, right? No changing form in the middle of, say, sex.” Jack
tried to be subtle, but it was a critical question for him. That was one thing he’d have trouble
getting past. The shape-shifting? There would be questions later, he was pretty sure, but for
now it was just cool. And sexy.
“I’m in full control now. I can shift at will.”
Jack looked into Ryan’s melted chocolate eyes. It wasn’t like Ryan had a choice in the
matter of his abilities. And what if he did? It wouldn’t change the way Jack felt about him, or
the fact that Ryan trusted him enough to make Jack the only person he’d shared his truth
with.
That counted for a lot. Jack would be an idiot to let him go over a technicality. They’d
work out the details later, but right now, there was something Jack wanted, and no
reservations kept him from following through.
“Remember when I said I wanted to wait to have sex until I thought our relationship
was serious?” Jack whispered. He pushed back a curtain of Ryan’s hair.
“I remember.”
“There’s nothing more serious than the way I feel about you. Let’s go find those
condoms.”
Ryan stood, holding out his hand to Jack. He pulled him up and linked their fingers as
they walked down the hall.
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“You’re really okay with this,” Ryan said, sounding incredulous.
“Everything but one.”
“What’s that?” Ryan asked.
“I’m wearing too many clothes.”
They got into the room and Jack practically tore off his clothes, eyes locked on the man
of his dreams. Ryan held out his hands. Jack went to him, dropping the last article of clothing
as he went.
When Ryan pulled him to the bed, Jack came readily, rolling together until they
stopped somewhere near the middle. Ryan traced Jack’s eyebrows with the sides of his
thumbs. “I trust you,” he said.
“I trust you, too. It was a stupid lapse.”
“It was a reasonable lapse. Among regularly received explanations, hey I’m a werewolf,
isn’t one of the favourites,” Ryan acknowledged.
“Right up there with Dracula is my cousin’s husband.”
Ryan pressed his forehead to Jack’s as they shared a laugh. Suddenly, they stopped,
all humour evaporated. Ryan stroked their noses together. First one side, then the other.
Jack’s breath caught. “I think you were going to kiss me,” he suggested when Ryan
neglected to take it further.
“Yeah, I was.”
Ryan’s lips met his, tenderly exploring Jack’s mouth, letting Jack lead the sensory
journey. Their cocks, trapped between their bodies, rolled against each other. Jack thrust,
unable to resist the temptation of feeling hot, hard dick rubbing his.
Tender became urgent. Ryan took him in another roll to the side of the bed where he
blindly reached for the condoms. He succeeded in flailing his hand and banging it into the
corner of the small table. Jack chuckled, brought Ryan’s hands to his lips for a get-better kiss,
then found the condoms and lube Ryan had looked for.
“Got ’em.”
“You first,” Ryan breathed. With his hair spread out beneath his head like a dark
silken sheet, there wasn’t anything Jack would deny him.
“I can’t believe I’m finally here with you,” Jack whispered.
“I’d have taken you to bed years ago, if I’d thought you wanted me the same way.”
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Jack groaned. “Wasted time.” He kissed Ryan’s eyes, his cheeks, his chin. “I’m not
going to waste any more of it.”
Jack got to his knees and sheathed himself with the condom under Ryan’s watchful
eyes. He made sure to roll it into place slowly, the pinch to the top of the condom, pulling the
latex tight against his engorged head, caused Ryan’s pupils to dilate. That alone had Jack’s
balls aching.
Putting the lube aside, Jack lowered himself to Ryan’s body. He dragged his hands up
Ryan’s side, over his armpits and along the ticklish flesh of the inside of Ryan’s arms as he
brought them over Ryan’s head. He took his time exploring every inch with lips and tongue
and hands.
Jack captured a nipple in his lips, and tortured it with light scrapes of his teeth. Ryan
groaned, not seeming to care how loud he got. Jack liked that. Ryan was free, easy with his
feelings. With any luck and a whole lot of patience, perhaps he’d teach Jack how to let go. He
wanted to. He wanted to be a better man for Ryan.
Jack touched him everywhere, loving the feel of his smooth, warm skin. The smell of
him, the taste of him, the way his flesh felt on his tongue and the way the textures changed as
he moved over Ryan’s body.
Ryan pushed him lower with a needy cry. Jack nuzzled Ryan’s heated cock, catching
the hairs at the base in his lips and pulling gently, scraping his fingernails with care over
Ryan’s balls. Reaching for the lube, Jack applied the moisture and slowly worked a finger
inside Ryan’s body.
Ryan moaned, flexing his ass into Jack’s probing fingers.
“Slow down, Ry. We’ve got as long as we need.”
“That’s why I want you now,” Ryan insisted. “We’ll take it slow, later.”
He didn’t have to be asked twice. Jack quickly and carefully stretched Ryan’s rosette,
treating the tender opening with persistent care. Then slicking up his own cock, Jack pushed
the head of his dick to the opening.
“Breath out,” Jack told him by way of warning.
Ryan wrapped his legs around Jack’s waist, hauling him tight to his body and forcing
Jack’s penis deep. Jack’s gasped, shivered around the sudden furnace gloving his anxious
shaft. His balls trembled.
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“Je-sus!” Jack breathed.
“Feels so good,” Ryan said, just as strained as Jack sounded.
Jack rolled his hips against Ryan’s ass. Too enthralled by the sensation of Ryan’s body
to pull out and thrust just yet, he rocked his hips, letting the pleasure sink in.
“God, you feel amazing.”
“Gonna invite any more deities to this party, or you gonna become my deity already?”
Ryan rasped.
Laboriously, Jack withdrew, shivered. Unable to stay away, he rode in balls deep.
Ryan tightened his legs around him, drawing Jack in tighter and deeper on each inward
thrust.
Jack tucked his hands under Ryan’s ass. Lifting his lover, he canted Ryan’s hips on the
withdrawal. They moaned together, and Jack arched his back to get a deeper angle, found it,
and ground against Ryan’s prostate.
Sensation built and Jack closed his eyes trying to capture the moment yet hold off long
enough to satisfy Ryan. Ryan had other ideas. He grabbed Jack’s ass, urging him on.
Suddenly, Jack couldn’t hold back. He pulled out and slammed in, delicious sensation
wrapping around his cock the faster he moved.
Ryan reached between them, taking his cock in hand and stroking with matching
vigour. He cried out and hot jets of cum splashed Jack’s chest and belly. No longer needing
to wait for his partner, Jack ploughed forward, possessing Ryan the way Jack felt possessed
by him. Finally, blissfully, release came in wave after wave of cresting peaks and gasps.
He shouted through each spurt, his throat growing hoarse. It wasn’t until he finished
that he realised Ryan smiled up at him.
“Quiet no more, huh?” Ryan teased.
“Never again.”
“Does that mean I get to keep you?” Ryan asked.
Jack smiled. He’d always thought he’d be lucky to have Ryan. It never occurred to him
until now that Ryan might feel lucky to have him.
“We get to keep each other,” Jack answered. “Wild thing, I think I love you.”
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Ryan laughed. “There’s no thinking about it.” He flipped Jack to the bed. “The first
half of my life would have been empty without you. I can’t wait to see how the rest of our
lives play out.”
“It only gets better from here,” Jack promised against Ryan’s lips.
About the Author
Mia makes her home in Minneapolis, Minnesota, where she divides her time between
a job and spying on people. Mia enjoys long walks in Como Park, daisies, dancing in
the snow…(Delete prior sentence, meant for personal ad)…
Mr. Perfect may apply in person for a thorough evaluation and trial. All others will be
towed.
Mia loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and
author biography at
Also by Mia Watts
Boys in Blue: Bad Boys, Bad Boys
Boys in Blue: Dangerous Distraction
Boys in Blue: Reasonable Doubt
Cougars and Cubs: Melting Melinda
Total-E-Bound Publishing
www.total-e-bound.com
Take a look at our exciting range of literagasmic™
erotic romance titles and discover pure quality
at Total-E-Bound.
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