A female giggle was followed by the soft, deep voice of Tyr. The voices drifted away and Jeff shut the door behind them. At least Jeff hadn’t been alone out there, even if he’d relied on the uncertain powers of a newborn Lios Alfar.
He waited until Jeff had made it halfway to the bedroom before growling low in his throat. He wanted his mate to know exactly how upset Fen was with him.
What he didn’t expect was Jeff’s reaction. The man spun, a dark, deadly looking weapon in hand, the hollow end pointing in Fen’s direction. The move had been so smooth, so quick, Fen had barely seen it.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he was impressed.
“Fen?” Even his voice was lethal, cold and predatory. It was sexy as hell.
“Who else would be waiting for you, mate?”
Jeff sighed and pocketed the weapon. “Jesus, you startled me.”
Fen growled again. “Where were you?”
“At my mother’s.”
Fen damn near exploded. Fur sprouted along his arms and legs. His teeth extended. He could see Jeff perfectly, his eyes having shifted over to a wolf’s.
“You went to Thor’s home?”
From Jeff’s wince perhaps he shouldn’t have shouted quite so loudly. His mate looked pained.
Then again, perhaps a little pain would teach his mate to take better care.
“I went to my parents’ house because you pissed me off, dickhead.” Jeff turned and stormed off. He went straight to the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him.
Fen followed. If Jeff thought this was over he was sorely mistaken. His hand was an inch from the doorknob when it opened abruptly. A pillow hit him in the face, followed by a blanket. Then the door slammed shut again.
Was this what humans called “being in the doghouse”?
The click of the lock was loud in the wake of Jeff’s anger. But Jeff had forgotten one thing when he’d locked that door.
Fenris Saeter was his father’s son.
No more Mr. Lap Dog. It was time Jeffrey Grimm learned what it meant to be the mate of Fenrisùlfr. Fen took the blanket and the pillow and placed them neatly on the sofa. He then turned to the bedroom door and proceeded to pick the fucking lock.
It seemed that the Internet was good for some things after all.
Jeff turned on the shower and stepped under the cool spray, trying to work the rest of the booze out of his system before he left the bathroom and confronted the wolf at his door. There was no way he could hope to get the best of Fenris if he was drunk off his ass, quick-draw skills notwithstanding. Jeff shot his fingers from his hips, pointing his “guns” at the shower wall before collapsing against it in giggles.
Damn, his mother sure made a mean Road Kill.
He stared down at his hands, still in the shape of guns, and shivered. He could have shot Fen back in the living room, all because he’d allowed himself to relax enough to get drunk. What would he have done if he’d hurt Fen? The memory of pained whimpers filled him with remorse. He didn’t want Fen to hurt anymore.
The room spun as he picked up the shampoo from the edge of the tub. God, he was drunker than he’d thought. At least he’d had the sense to come home in a cab.
His mind blanked at a sudden thought. Could Fen get drunk? Would that healing power of his keep him from hangovers? Jeff winced, knowing his head was probably going to fall off his shoulders tomorrow.
Come to think of it, would bullets hurt Fen, or would they just be an annoyance? Jeff soaped up his hair, his mind whirling. Wait. Fen was a werewolf, right? Would silver bullets hurt him? Kill him? Jeff found the thought…terrifying. Just the thought of Fen dead was enough to tie his stomach in knots. The memory of the sword through his jaws, blood dripping down his chin, his sad, pained whines had Jeff gulping in nausea.
Oh shit. This was really bad. He didn’t want Fen to hurt. Ever.
When the hell did that happen?
What the fuck was he supposed to do now? No one told him he was going to develop feelings for the hairy prick. Oh sure, he wanted to ride the man like a buckle bunny at a rodeo, but damn. He hadn’t even kissed Fen yet and he was worried about him getting hurt? He couldn’t have feelings for him! Lust, sure.
Lust was okay. That’s all it had to be, right? Pure, unadulterated, bang-the-headboard-into-the-wall-until-the-neighbors-complained lust.
Jeff scrubbed his hair clean, rinsing the bubbles down the drain, and knew he was lying to himself. Shit. This was not good. Fenris Saeter was in the Bad Thing category, and Jeff didn’t do Bad Things no matter what his cock thought. He picked up the soap and began washing his body, but when he got to his aching, erect penis he scowled. “I’m in charge here. Got it? No more Bad Things! They’re bad!”
A dark chuckle cut through the sound of the pounding water. “What would that bad thing be, elskede?”
Jeff dropped the soap. The water had barely steamed the glass door, so he could see Fenris clearly. Fen was naked, and while Jeff’s brain yelled bad. Jeff’s body yelled ride ’em, cowboy!
Jeff could barely take his eyes off Fen’s strong, hairy chest, but when they drifted southward he saw the wolfman was sporting an erection that would make a porn star proud. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
“I picked the lock.”
Jeff didn’t dare bend over to pick up the soap, not with the hungry way Fen was eyeing his ass. “Where did you learn to do that?”
Fen grinned and opened the glass door. “Internet.” He palmed Jeff’s ass in his big hands. “You are so beautiful.”
“Eep.” Jeff backed away from Fenris. “I’m sorry, the ass you are trying to tap is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone. Oh, fuck.” Jeff leaned back, completely ignoring the cold tile. A blizzard could be raging around him and he didn’t think he’d notice. Fen had taken Jeff’s cock in his hand, stroking him with a sure, firm grip. The rough calluses on his hands merely turned up the volume. Jeff tended to go for guys with soft hands from working on computers or running numbers, but Fen’s hands felt so fucking good, so primal.
He stared up into Fen’s golden eyes as the wolf slowly jacked him under the water. Just the sight of those eyes had him close to coming. “This is not good.”
“No? How about this?” Fen twisted his wrist, adding a little something extra to the hand job, and Jeff hissed his pleasure. “Better?”
Jeff couldn’t speak. He was too busy trying not to come all over Fen’s hand.
“What are you doing to me?”
The grin would have been wolfish without the sharp teeth. With them, it was downright scary. “Claiming you.”
Jeff grabbed hold of Fen’s wrist but only succeeded in adding his own motion to the wolf’s. Trying to stop Fen when he had a firm grip on Jeff’s cock was like trying to stem the tide with a stern talking to. “Most men go on dates before—oh hell.” Fen was licking the side of his neck, nuzzling at him until Jeff tilted his head to Fen’s satisfaction. The feel of Fen’s whiskers dragging against his skin sent him that much closer to orgasm. The only reason he hadn’t come all over the other man’s hand was the Road Kills still in his bloodstream. They were keeping him barely mellow enough to hold on.
He could feel Fen’s hard cock nudging his hip as the wolf pressed against him. Fen was bigger, taller, just plain old more than Jeff had ever had before. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all. One minute he’s chasing down cheating spouses, the next he’s got a wolf in the shower with him, claiming Jeff belongs to him.
“You think too much, elskede. Stop. Just feel me. Feel us.”