Blood Brothers (Rocky Mountain Shifters) (3 page)

“Christ, take me all. I’m into you deep, baby. Talk me. Tell me what it feels like.”

“Just do it. Tris, give me what I want.”

One last time, he swung his arm back only to land another hard-handed spank. His hand burned. Body-wracking shudders rippled from his hips up his torso. The furious eruption sent jolts of electricity racing up his spine and exploding into ecstatic bliss. “Goddamn, Fin. Your ass is milking my dick. Grip me tight. I’m just getting started.”

Pushing up onto his arms, leveraging his hips, he let the weight of his body and gravity do the work as he fell, the tip of his dick diving into Fin. This fiery edge had him spiraling, and he pulled back before he lost control. For a second, he understood Fin’s desire for hard sex that pushed limits.

He couldn’t, wouldn’t do that to him. Fucking-A, they needed a chaperone or referee. Someone to announce a TKO, since neither he nor Fin were going to tap out if he agreed to skate the edge.

“Fin, is that enough? I want you so bad. Cum is dripping from your ass. I know you’re filled to the brim. Can you take me on tonight?”

Fin glanced back. “Don’t make excuses. Do it. I want you to use my ass. I love the feel of you letting loose. Pound me. Let go. I know you want to. Damn, I already told you what I want. You think your pecker is going to wear me out? Bring it on, motherfucker. Beat my ass like I want. Fuck, Tris. Do it!”

The wolf was a hair away from bursting through Tristen’s self-control. He stared at Fin’s gaping opening. Shit, he wanted to give them both relief. “Give me a second.”

Rubbing his hand over hard flesh, Tristen stopped and picked up the bottle from the nightstand. He squeezed lube over his hand until his skin was slippery. He inhaled, positioning his two fingers at the opening into Fin’s ass and pushed in and out. Then he tried three. His lover’s body was slick around him. His rod stiffened. Again.

Fin moaned. Tristen imagined himself pushing his arm up into Fin’s body. He didn’t have the ability to be gentle when he fucked. Dick or hand. He pressed his fingers together and delivered a power punch thrust. Four fingers, and he pumped hard and fast.

Shit, he wanted to feel the inside of Fin’s ass. “Man, I don’t know…”

“Jesus Tristen, I want this. Don’t make me beg. Give me…what I want. You won’t break me.”

How much more would it take to open Fin up and slide his whole fist into him? No. He couldn’t trust himself. A man could tear and hemorrhage. Lose consciousness. He wouldn’t ever put Fin in that position again. Cold sweat beaded his hairline. Shit. Tremors overtook his body. Chills slithered up his spine. Another attack was coming on fast. He closed his eyes. “Fin,” he murmured.

He began to shake, and then Fin had him in his arms. “I’ve got you, Tris. Stay with me. Listen to my voice. Take a deep, slow breath. I’m going to count. On go. One, two. Three, four. Now, hold for a count of four.” Fin tapped his arm to help get him grounded. “Release and exhale to the count of eight. Slower. Tris, slow down. Focus. That’s it.”

He rocked his head, breathing and leaning against Fin’s warm torso. Never had an anxiety attack come on this strong. Fin’s hands rubbed his shoulders and neck. He’d completed ten rounds of slow, methodical breathing. The world still had this giddy feel, and his head felt like a helium-filled balloon. It was as though light poured out from his head, white glaring light, blinding him. Shit, he needed to lie down. Fuck. He was worn out. He closed his eyes. Blackness surrounded him.

Tristen pushed himself to sprint the last leg of the trail that wound alongside the cliff adjacent his house. The pine trees thinned on this section of the northern ridge. Scrub dotted the land atop this private mountain wholly owned by Shawn, his boss and friend from high school. Shawn’s house lay a mile off and Tristen veered wide, preferring a solitary journey while running a course—the same course he ran daily—and less than a quarter mile remained. His lungs burned, his muscles were on fire, and his mind razor-sharp.

Starting out this morning, he’d shifted into his wolf form. He couldn’t hold back any longer. Not this close to a full moon and not after last night. He ran through his rage, or at least tried to each morning come rain, sun, or snow. Fourteen miles, a little over half a marathon, every day, no excuse. This kept him ready whenever the mood struck to run with a bunch of other sweaty bodies from the VA in their Sunday Rocky Mountain shifter meet-ups when Fin held a yoga class on the hospital grounds near the pond.

He slowed, gulping air, gravel crunching under his human feet. Naked, Tristen took the three front porch steps to his home in one leap, curling his hand around the wooden porch column, smooth under his fingers from Fin’s woodwork. Leaning against the railing, perspiration drizzling down his body, he focused on Fin inside the living room  stretched over a yoga mat. He’d seen this routine before, countless times, as Fin posed for God knew how long in some contortion resembling a human triangle, simultaneously extending his arms up and down, his legs spread wide.

Shit, just looking at his partner’s body made him dizzy. He moved silently along the porch, entering the house through the kitchen door. He punched the coffee pot switch on his way to their bedroom. The house smelled of burning sage. The scent of the acrid smoke reminded him of pot, and his stomach clenched as he stepped into the shower.

Tristen lathered up and stood under the tepid water long enough to rinse the suds before getting out to shave. The mirror wasn’t even fogged when he stepped out onto the terry mat. He turned on the faucet at the sink. Steam rose from the hot water flowing down the drain. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he pulled a razor across his face, nicking his chin.

He ran, showered, and shaved before sunrise. His routine. Just as Fin had his. They lived structured lives. Military precision during the day. At night, things tended to come undone. Like last night.

Their lives were boxed-in to some extent, more than likely the reason Fin kept forcing him to clubs on the weekend. A yen for excitement. After the Middle East, he doubted a shifter club would ever provoke an adrenaline rush. He wiped his face, ignoring the few drops of blood spilling down his neck.

Fin sauntered in through the doorway. “You’re bleeding. Do something before you drip blood on the rug.”

“Uh, thanks for the concern.” Tristen tore off a square of toilet paper and stuck a piece on the cut. Red blossomed over the white surface.

“Hitting the ibuprofen lately?” Fin came up beside him. His flushed skin provoked another round of craving that hit Tristen deep.

“A bit.”

Fin spoke slowly and in a calm yogi voice. “You need to increase eating foods to assist your
dosha
.”

“
Dosha
? Naw, this is all about business. Not some Sanskrit lesson in eating and breathing. Not now.”

“These ideas do work. Thousands of years. But I guess you know better.” Fin arched a brow and Tristen sensed there was something on the horizon.

Was Fin going to mention last night? He watched a throbbing vein pulse in Fin’s throat. “It’s only a headache, Fin. Time of year. New ordinances and new employees to train. Fuck, I dislike
new
. There’s no rest for the insane or the wicked.”

“Or those with a type-A personality who get stuck in…a trench.”

“Don’t start on me. I thought you were in your yoga flow glow?”

“Clearly, you’re the one on edge. I’m only offering you a solution.”

“The only answer is about Shawn’s business. Not some new age recipe for a smoothie or salad. I need another set of eyes, ears, and hands. I’m going to talk to him today about hiring another person to keep up with security.”

Fin stopped before the shower door and jutted his chin, eyeing him in the mirror. “You got any prospects?”

“No, but I haven’t gotten it approved. What? You think I’d put out the word before I spoke with Shawn?”

“No, jackwad. But I know a guy—”

Tristen held up his hands. “Hold on a fucking minute. Not one of those vets from the hospital. Shit, Fin. It’s fine and dandy that you lead yoga classes there, but the last time we tried to help one of those guys, it cost us. Big time. We’re not social workers.”

“First, simmer that shit down. Second, the man’s not exactly in need of our services, or anyone else’s for that matter. Third, you need to meet him. I swear....” Fin paused, smiling oddly. “He’s special.”

“Special sounds like a grandmother’s description. Or a condition.”

“Different. The man is one-of-a-kind.”

“Oh brother. Hero worship? You?”

“Don’t go there. You’re being a prick.” Fin exhaled, flashing him a look of mild disappointment. It was too much to take and pierced him.

“Jeez. My gut is saying back the fuck away.” Tristen turned toward Fin and leaned against the bathroom sink. “Does your friend have a name?”

“Santo Humberto Camio. I’ve got his card.”

“His card. Should I ask where you met and why you’ve got his card?”

This time Fin smiled, seduction playing upon the slight curve of his lips. He reached out, lazily tracing a line down Tristen’s stomach. “Jealous much?”

Tristen stared at his partner’s mouth. Damn, his full lips were an invitation too hard to ignore. He pulled off his towel, uncovering his semi-hard dick. “Why do you like to tease me? You’re right. I’m on edge. Blow me, and I’ll consider whatever favor I’m about to give you as owed.” He began stroking himself.

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor with this hook-up. So really it should be you blowing me.” Fin pushed off his shorts, his dick ready for action.

“Sixty-nine in the a.m. Yeah, I’m feeling that.” Tristen grabbed him by the neck, just the way the man liked to be handled, and brought him in close. “I’ve got an early morning appointment. Just sucking. No fucking or I’ll be late. Open your mouth.”

“You’re not the only one who needs to be in the city early.” Fin yanked free from his grasp, and then strutted out the door, all but ignoring his attempt at domination. “Shawn called. I’ve got to pick him up in twenty minutes. So it’s now or never. Stop wasting time.”

Fin ambled over to bed, smoothed the sheet, and then lay down. His cock curved up over his washboard belly. He folded his arms behind his head as though he were waiting for a pizza to be delivered. Tristen clenched his jaw, the blood pounding in his temples. He could have easily turned him over and given him one for the road. He actually imagined smacking Fin’s ass for acting like a spoiled prima donna. But then he’d be keyed-up all day.

Tristen marched over to the bed. “Slide over, bucko.” He took hold of Fin’s erection. The scent of his lover’s sweat and beta wolf essence had him dripping, throbbing, and his release was only an ache away. His own cock pulsed and his balls hugged his groin, ready to launch. “You sure know how to drive me wild.”

Tristen waited for the feel of his lover’s hot mouth. He stroked Fin’s glistening rod, his mouth growing wetter by the second. His hard-on went beyond stiff to chiseled marble. And still nothing. Fin kept his hands and mouth off his aching flesh, his eyes closed, and he had the gall to groan, “Harder, Tris.”

Tristen stopped in mid-stroke. “Is there a magic word you need to join this party?”

Fin slid his gaze up the bed and regarded him behind hooded lids. “I’m very much enjoying what you’re doing.”

“Don’t play hard to get. What the hell is up this morning?”

“Your imagination, for one. Refreshing, I might the fuck add.”

“Then open your mouth and suck me dry.” Tristen gripped Fin’s erection and tugged on him hard enough to get a flickering reaction to pass over his lover’s face.

Fin inhaled and slid his hand up Tristen’s leg, making his diaphragm constrict. The man’s arduous movements were torturous enough to make him clench his jaw, grind his molars. He watched every movement, feeling the jagged edge of anticipation building.

Finally, Fin dipped his head. The second his wet, searing tongue flecked the opening of Tristen’s dickhead, an electrical jolt flared from his balls, jetting up his spine. Tristen released Fin’s dick, and moved, surprised by his own flexibility. He stared at Fin for a beat before he took his partner’s head between his palms. “Christ, you make me want to howl. Open your mouth.”

“Why?” Fin stared back at him, color suffusing his cheeks. “So you can get what you want? But not me?”

A burst of heat shot up Tristen’s neck. He shuddered and spouted a dollop of pre-cum. His skin rose in chill bumps. He was so close to turning Fin over and laying into him with his palm. “What the hell is up? I asked not once, but several times. You’ve had a hair up your ass since last night. I tried to give you what you wanted.”

“That’s right. A hair. I want your fist. Fucking me. I love your dick. But I need more. You said you wanted to know. Well. There. Happy?” He pushed away. A rarity. Tristen reached out and grabbed him. He curled his fingers around Fin’s wrist.

“I...can’t.” His chest, face, and neck broiled. A wildfire wouldn’t have blazed hotter.

This show of temper was out of character. His lover’s mouth went white around the edges. His eyes were cool veneers. When he spoke, it was arctic. “I’ve no problem with that. But you refuse to get help. For us. Now, let me go.”

“Dammit.” Releasing his hold, Tristen gritted his teeth. “This isn’t the way we’re going to solve this problem. A meltdown to get what you want. That’s emotional blackmail. Man, this is so not like you. Of all people.”

Fin slowly walked over to the window, his back to Tristen, and did nothing except hold onto the ledge. Tristen began to pace. He finally stopped and scrubbed his fingers through his buzzed hair, studying the muscular V-shape of Fin’s incredible torso. Fin swung around, his eyes downcast, and returned to him.

Fin’s eyebrows were drawn together. “Dude, I’m not down for all this drama. You’re fucking right on that score. But you need to get the message I’m giving you. Now it’s your move.”

Tristen stopped thinking about his own throbbing dick and let the weight of Fin’s words sink in. He let go of a long breath. “Fin, don’t get my back against the wall. Man, I don’t know. I don’t have an answer to whip out, nice and pretty. This isn’t going to be solved this morning. This goes deeper than getting your ass fucked rough. I get you want something. More. And together, we’ll figure something out. I promise.”