Alphas on the Prowl (6 page)

As a newspaper editor for the city, Micah sat at a desk all day, picking out the errors the journalists made in their submissions to the paper, working against the 4 p.m. deadline for the next morning's paper to be in, error free and complete for the printing. He worked out the arrangement of the advertisements around the local news and the top stories, and the overall final look of the paper. It had to be appealing to the customer.

The editor job paid exceptionally well, and it was interesting at times, but the routine was monotonous and he got tired of sitting all the time. Not one for the gym, he really didn't get any additional exercise above the walks he took every evening and his morning ceremony at the cliffs, so working on the yard with Jason was a pleasure in and of itself. In addition, of course, to the gratification of spending copious amounts of quality time with his lover. He certainly missed the added exercise, that's for sure, and the opportunity to watch as Jason's sinewy, sweaty body glistened enticingly under the summer sun.

Putting the rocks in the grass had sounded like an easy enough project to Micah when Jason had described it. Really, how hard could it be to create a path of rocks? He'd found out quite swiftly there was so much more to Jason's plan than just throwing the rocks on the grass.

Jason wanted them all dug out, and the grass removed from beneath them. He had informed Micah they had to be level with the grass if they were to be walked on, and it was not just about the look of them. Jason had decided on a certain placement for the rocks, in a curving pattern, not just a straight line. So, instead of the anticipated two to three hours Micah had figured on it taking them, they'd spent the entire daylight hours, from seven in the morning at the quarry, until almost ten in the evening at the cottage, completing the project. Micah had finally admitted Jason's ideas were perfect and the end result was a lot more appealing than it could have been if left up to him.

Micah had been exhausted by the end of the day, whereas Jason, used to his physically demanding job as a heavy machinery operator, was still revved up and ready to go. They'd both grabbed an icy beer from the fridge and sat on the deck in the lounge chairs to relax before having a shower together.

Listening to the creeping night sounds around them had been very peaceful as the sky darkened to a deep, beautiful dark bluish purple hue. The crickets made music as they rubbed their hind legs together, and the fireflies flickered over the flowers near the line of trees at the end of the property. It was all so serene, enchanting and very romantic.

Comfortable in his lounge chair, half his beer drained within minutes of sitting, the brown bottle dangling limply from his fingers, Micah had begun to drift off with the surrounding ambiance. Without intending to, he'd allowed his eyelids to drift closed and had fallen into a gentle doze where he was not quite asleep, but neither was he awake.

He'd not heard a sound as Jason had stood and stealthily crossed the short distance between their two chairs. It was the panther in him, graceful and silent. Jason had always moved with catlike elegance regardless of what he may be doing. His thick muscles, sleek tone, and tall frame belied the possibility of the way he moved. His agility, speed and flexibility were a trait passed down through generations of his feline lineage despite the substantial mass that made up his physique.

Feather-light strokes through his hair had soothed Micah deeper into slumber. Jason had told him before that he loved to watch Micah sleep. He loved the way the stress lines that marred Micah's face on a normal day faded to almost nothing when he was so happy, so relaxed, and so peaceful.

He had been lulled so deeply into sleep that he began to snore, and Jason's deep-timbered laugh had bellowed out in the quiet of the night. He'd jumped, startled by the sudden volume of his lover's express amusement, and opened his eyes to find Jason on one knee before him, stroking so tenderly at the hair on the side of his face, running his fingers gently over Micah's cheek and whispering the digits down to caress over his lips.

He'd smiled up at Jason from his slumped position in the chair and made a move to sit up. Jason had encouraged him to remain where he was with a firm hand to his shoulder, but not one word interrupted the resumed sounds of the calm evening around them.

He had that way about him, Jason did. His ex-lover had always been able to say so much without a single word. It was the way of shifters. Born of two worlds of such different understandings, he and Jason had still never really needed words.

Jason had seductively traced a path down Micah's hairless chest, dry by then from the sweat of the day's work. He'd moved his mouth over Micah's nipple, covering the tiny, tight bud with the heat of his mouth and giving it a little nip before continuing on down to his navel, flicking his tongue out to taste the little indent, and trailing his way to the hipbone peeking from the waistband of Micah's jeans.

Undoing the five buttons down the front of the low-rise jeans, Jason had reached in and begun to stroke Micah's already hard shaft, cupping his taut sac as he moved his hand to the base again and again, bringing Micah almost to completion with those tender, loving motions alone. Back then, Jason had known Micah well enough to recognize when Micah was almost ready to peak, so Jason had quickly pulled Micah's jeans down around his thighs and captured his hardness between the silky velvet of his lips.

As Micah recollected the following hours that evening, on the deck and again in the shower, his cock again thickened in his shorts. Oh God, how he missed the feeling of being with Jason, his hands running over his hard body, kissing him, licking him, and just loving him.

Damn it! Why did I have to screw things up by deciding I needed a break?

Now the very real possibility that Jason had moved on this summer, when he was left alone, made Micah hurt in ways he never knew were possible. He didn't even know if it was true or not, but already his chest ached at the imagined loss. In his mind's eye, he could see all the things his lover was doing with someone else–without
him
–and it made him furious.

With renewed determination at the images running through his brain, Micah stepped up to the back door and rapped firmly on the wood before he could change his mind. He was impatient for the door to open, yet, was still surprised when it swung open with a suction of air around him.

"Why'd ya knock? Did you forget the key..." Jason's voice trailed off.

At the bewildered look on Jason's face, Micah assumed he'd been waiting for someone, and it wasn't him. He felt his anger shoot to its feet, the green-eyed monster again ripping a hole through his chest.

"Micah. Well, this is a nice surprise."

His throat clenched. "Hi." It was barely a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Uh, were you expecting someone?"

"No, not really. Come on in. It's nice to see you." Jason stepped backward, allowing Micah into the hallway. "Can I get you a drink?" he called over his shoulder as he made his way to the brightly lit kitchen. "I was just about to have a glass of wine myself."

"No." The anger in his voice betrayed the agitation he was unable to keep in check over how Jason had been spending the last few evenings. "Thanks," he added, trying to soften his previous response. It wouldn't do to piss Jason off before they'd even talked, before he had a chance to tell him he'd made a big mistake in leaving.

Jason had a temper, and one thing he disliked the most was people who spoke to him with an attitude or in a way that suggested they were incapable of holding on to their emotions. Micah had learned this from experience when they had first begun dating. Jason found it disrespectful and did not treat people in such a manner himself, so he didn't like it being done to him. Although his trade implied he was rough to the core, he was really quite refined and expected others to behave that way as well.

Following Jason to the kitchen, Micah remained silent while Jason poured half a crystal wineglass of
Brunello Di Montalcino
, a sweet wine subtle in its overtones of blackberry, black cherry, chocolate, and sweet vanilla. It was made in a little medieval town just outside of the town of Siena, Italy where his parents now lived in their retirement. Every year for his birthday, they sent him a case of the very expensive wine. He savored it as his only dessert on a rare basis, usually only special occasions.

Like his behavior, Jason's taste in wine was very sophisticated. Perhaps it was one of the things left over from growing up as a surgeon's son in one of the richest neighborhoods of Austin, Texas.

Micah wondered what the special occasion was, and felt another twinge slash through his abdomen.

Motioning for Micah to follow him to the living room, Jason asked, "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company? It's been so long."

"I wanted to talk to you. About us." Micah's heart began a quick thud in his chest. His fear rose not only at what he was going to say, but also the possibility Jason had already moved on.

Jason's only accession for Micah to continue was a slight nod of his head. He was a man of few words on most occasions, however, his body language spoke volumes to most people. Micah in particular, as he knew him so well. He was well aware that despite Jason's outward appearance of calm, the man was swirling inside with interest. Micah imagined he could almost see rounded ears shift forward and a soft tail perk up. Nature of the cat: Curiosity.

Micah was holding his breath, unable to get the words out. He looked straight into his beautiful ex-lover's eyes, and then it was just a flood. "The last few months, Jason, all I've been able to think about is you. The separating? It was a mistake.
Such
a mistake." He squeezed his eyes shut. Just thinking about it was overwhelming, and it was difficult to swallow around the rock that all of a sudden seemed lodged in his throat. He could feel tears pressing behind his eyes. He blinked, and his vision blurred.

"I just…I was able to do a lot of thinking, and I realized that I really do want what you asked for." He glanced up at Jason, trying so damned hard to blink away tears. "I want to make a life with you." Micah shook his head. His heart was pounding, his legs felt as if they wouldn't hold him up much longer and he gripped the edge of the counter. "God, Jason, being away from you has been such hell. I just…I want…" He sucked in a deep, ragged breath. "Please tell me there's still a chance for us."

In the silence that followed, Micah waited, holding his breath and expecting the knife to turn deep in his heart when Jason told him it was too late.

The sound of a door opening and closing in the front of the house startled them both, breaking the stillness of the air around them. Micah let the air escape from his lungs in a slow, drawn out exhale, attempting to keep himself under control. Instead, his tension rose to almost full-blown panic. He assumed this was Jason's new lover coming in, possibly coming home. It cut him to the core to think Jason may have moved someone in. That another man was sharing his bed, his life, and was now the recipient of his love and attention.

He was a mix of anger and pain, and it was killing him not to fall at Jason's feet and beg him to take him back, to love him again, but he knew that was not Jason's style. Once Jason was out of a relationship, there was very little that could rekindle the love and passion that had been shared. He was a man who made final decisions when he made them, with little regret.

Micah made a quick move toward the back door, intending to leave even though he'd not given Jason a chance to respond. Seeing Jason's new lover through the window was one thing, but he sure as hell was not planning on meeting him in person! Tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks, Micah was almost at the doorway of the kitchen when the stranger emerged from the hallway, very nearly bumping into him.

Micah stopped dead in his tracks. His entire body flashed cold, as if he'd been thrown into a tub of ice water. The lump in his throat plummeted into his gut and sat heavy. He knew this man, but for some reason couldn't place him. The shiny, dark hair falling gently to his shoulders emphasized the hazel eyes set deep into his face. It was a face with a perfectly formed nose, soft, full lips that even most women would kill to have, and a chin that appeared as if it were sculpted by artist, complete with a perfect cleft.

Micah was mesmerized, recognition tickled his mind, but yet still would not reveal why, nor from where, he knew this person. The guy was absolutely hot, in Micah's opinion.
No wonder Jason is attracted to him; he is everything I'm not.
The perfectly tanned skin enveloped his Adonis-like chest and abs, accompanied by arms as thick as a wrestler. This guy was all man, all muscle, and all sexy appeal. Unlike Micah, whose pale skin, only just-firm body and fair features made him feel like an unattractive oaf. On a good day, Micah was very insecure about his looks, his appeal. Today, he felt exceptionally lacking when this other male was in the same room.

Jason's brow furrowed in confusion at Micah's hasty retreat. "Micah, this is Lyle, Trina's fiancé."

As Lyle stuck out his hand, Micah let out the breath he was not even aware he was holding. It came in such a rush he felt dizzy and darkness promptly descended upon his vision.

* * * * * *

Micah woke up in a prone position on Jason's couch, unaware of exactly how he'd gotten there. He was very confused, but awash in relief. So, the man in the window wasn't Jason's lover after all, but rather his younger sister's fiancé. He felt so foolish. Why hadn't he recognized Lyle?