Hiding His Wolf [Urban Affairs 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove) (2 page)

He kept his thoughts to himself. He’d been lucky to find this position as a bouncer. Kirby didn’t require a social security number or references, and he didn’t ask any questions. If you proved yourself to be a man who could handle trouble, that was all his boss cared about. Levi knew he fit the bill. His attitude and appearance—six foot two inches, two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle—got him a job providing security in this sometimes-rowdy leather club. He’d learned how to scan everyone and everything around him in an unobtrusive manner. He started with the hands. When he couldn’t see a man’s hands, warning bells went off and he suspected a concealed weapon. Time and again, he’d proved himself a competent fighter with fists, boots, pool cues, and knives.
Yeah, there’s no substitute for experience.
Having dealt with his own shitload of fights increased the odds of getting the upper hand when some asshole was trying to stomp his brains to mush or gut him with a shank.

Just thinking about fighting fired up the belligerent Rolf. Levi took a deep breath to calm his wolf and inhaled a cloud of second hand smoke. His eyes watered as he started coughing. Smoking was allowed in the back rooms and that fucking cigar-chomping asshole, Kirby, was the biggest offender of them all. Chalk up one more reason to hate working at Hot Rods. He’d quit on the spot but he had too much to lose.

For the first time in his life, Levi had a nice apartment and a few possessions that he wanted to hang onto. More important, every time he had to look for a new job or a new place to live, he risked having someone discover his real identity.

Exposing his secret life would make him fair game for human bigots. It would be tough to find a new job, and he’d be hounded by the Feds, who kept a close eye on shifters. Even his own kind could be a threat. Keeping his nose clean and doing whatever the boss wanted had become second nature.

Blending in with humans wasn’t too difficult because he looked like them. Still, Levi’s large frame and intense dark-gold eyes made it a little harder for him to keep a low profile. Humans were so damn suspicious. Their hatreds were so pervasive—religious, sexual, political, social class—they had developed hatred to a fine art. Idiots, they were afraid of their own shadows. He tried to keep all contact with humans to a minimum—except for sex of course.

Life in a Were ghetto would not be any easier. On the plus side, there would be no secret identity to hide. He could be himself, shifting whenever he felt like it. But it was no utopian society. Wolves couldn’t be trusted any more than humans.
The Were Resistance didn’t tolerate half-breeds. Having a human mother put a big target on Levi’s back. It was best to tread a fine line between the two species and avoid discovery and all the crap that came with it.

L
evi, dressed in bouncer’s black, stood by the door and tried not to think about the main event. He forced himself to concentrate on his job, checking the arrivals, scanning the bar and looking out for trouble. The crowd looked rough, but so far they were behaving. Tonight’s event was by invitation only, and anyone who caused trouble would not be invited back. Levi knew most of the customers by sight. Many of them lived an alternative lifestyle, something outside the so-called
norm,
and they felt at home here. It could be BDSM, a polyamorous relationship, or even furry fandom. Levi laughed to himself. He knew a few role-playing guys in that subculture who would kill to get their hands on him if they knew he was a Werewolf. Furry sex didn’t float his boat. He preferred fucking in his human form, but if one of those human fur-freaks captured him, they’d expect him to play big, bad wolf. He’d be locked up, and his captor would throw away the key. It was just one more reason for a Were to keep his identity a secret.

Suddenly, loud voices caught his attention, and Levi’s wolfish instincts went on high alert. Every hair on his body stood erect. He smelled trouble, and his head snapped around looking for the source. Off to his right, two men were arguing over a third. Levi took a step toward them. One of the trio saw him approaching and said something to the other two. All three men quieted down and moved off toward the bar. Levi went back to his spot by the entrance. Sometimes a look was all it took to stop a fight before it even got started.

Levi was well-paid to keep the peace in Hot Rods—the main areas anyway. The private playrooms, equipped with benches, crosses, suspension devices, cages, and all manner of equipment for bondage play, were monitored electronically. The bar looked like any other leather bar. The dress code was black, and the emphasis was on leather, metal, and sadistic symbolism. Paintings of masculine-looking men in fetish gear hung on the walls, along with metal collages.
This totally masculine side of homosexuality was in evidence here in the auction room as well.

Suddenly, a late arrival attempted to push past Levi, and he turned, ready to put the newcomer in his place.

Damn!

Joe Manganiello’s twin stood in front of him. A Werewolf’s wet dream. Levi’s mouth went dry. The man was at least six five, and his biceps were like boulders. Dark-brown waves framed a strong, stubbled jaw, giving him a rough and rugged appeal that plenty of other men strived for but couldn’t attain. Levi found himself staring. Christ, he was drooling. He wiped an arm over his mouth. This was his problem in a nutshell. One second he was salivating over a blond twink, the next he was sporting a boner over a super-masculine stud.

The stud cleared his throat, bringing Levi’s attention back to reality. He should ask for identification, but damn, he couldn’t get a word past the lump in his throat. The Werewolf look-alike was a big man, not roided out, but physically intimidating, even to a real Werewolf. And it wasn’t just his size. The man gave off an air of authority. Unlike most of the other men who were decked out in leather vests, jocks, thongs, and shorts, this man wore an immaculately cut suit, white shirt, and tie that screamed wealth and power.

Businessman or criminal? Maybe both.

Right then, Levi didn’t care. Somehow, covering up his assets in designer clothes made the stud look even sexier. Levi’s imagination worked overtime, trying to picture him naked—broad shoulders, hard chest, narrow waist and long legs.

Where the hell does he get his clothes? It must be a bitch getting suits that fit right.

The stud appeared to be assessing Levi as well. For a few more seconds they just eyed each other. Then the taller man’s intense dark brown eyes did a slow slide down Levi’s body, stopping at the growing bulge below Levi’s waist. The man’s nostrils flared, and a sly smile spread over his face. Then he winked.

Every submissive pheromone in Levi’s body came to life. Blood surged to his dick, causing his erection to ooze like a leaky faucet. Levi’s wolf growled inside him, unhappy about his attraction to this human.

Stuff it, Rolf.

Levi’s blood pumped hot and his cock
inclined toward the big man, like a dowsing rod to water.
Levi might just break one of his cardinal rules about fraternizing with the customers. But not unless the suit showed some ID.

“This is a private party. I need to see—”

Mr. Sex-in-a-suit pulled an invitation from his pocket and held it out in front of him. Levi took the card and read it carefully.

Simon Black.

The name didn’t ring any bells, and nothing on the invitation gave a clue to Black’s profession, but then the invites never did. Kirby respected everybody’s privacy, even the men who didn’t deserve any respect. Looking up from the card, Levi studied Black’s face. Something about the man, other than sex, disturbed Rolf. Levi couldn’t put his finger on it, but he had nothing concrete to base his suspicions on. He couldn’t deny a man entrance because of animal instinct, and dressed as he was, Black appeared to be a VIP. Levi waved Simon Black inside with a grunt and watched him walk toward the low stage with a confident swagger. The man’s arrogant attitude annoyed Levi, and he made up his mind to keep an eye on Simon Black.

Levi still held the invitation in his hand. He knew Black didn’t need it now that he was inside, but returning it would give him an excuse to follow the man. He left his post and came up behind Black, who was inspecting the much shorter blond slave. When Black stepped aside, Levi had an unobstructed view of the slave, who stood with his
head sunk between his shoulders. The broker grabbed a handful of long white-gold hair and yanked it back so everyone could see the slave’s face.

The blond stared straight ahead into space with hollow eyes. Lines at the corners of his mouth muted his youth and beauty, but he appeared familiar. Levi’s head went swimmy in a few seconds of pure thoughtless shock. He could not believe his eyes.
Noah!
Ten years had passed, and Noah had to be twenty-three now, but his short stature and thin body made him appear even younger. A boy growing into manhood changed a lot in that amount of time, but not his scent. It was Noah. Levi knew it. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind.

Shock turned to anger. On closer inspection, Noah had a trance-like expression on his face, almost as if he didn’t know where he was. What had they done to him?
Drugs?
Levi didn’t like the implications one bit. This was not a submissive looking for a new Master.

This is bullshit! I’m going to end this farce before it goes any further.

“Stop!”

Noah’s head jerked at the sound of Levi’s voice, and for a second, the boy’s eyes cleared and recognition flickered in their blue depths. All too quickly, Noah’s eyes clouded again and his head drooped.

Levi’s heart twisted. Fists clenched at his sides, he took a step toward Noah. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

Scowling, Levi twisted his head. It was Rod Kirby, his boss. He opened his mouth to insist that the auction be stopped, but the look on Kirby’s face stopped him. From the corner of his eye, Levi saw the other bouncers approaching. Even if he revealed his wolf, something he did not want to do, he would be overpowered easily and lose any chance of helping Noah. Playing this smart meant not losing control.

Kirby’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Is there a problem, Levi?”

“No, sir. No problem. I’m just returning Mr. Black’s invitation.” Levi handed the card to Simon Black. Their eyes met for an instant, and Levi got the distinct impression that Black knew exactly who he was and what he was thinking. It wasn’t possible, but he didn’t like anyone looking at him like that. Unsettled by the other man, Levi averted his eyes. “Sorry, Mr. Kirby.” Levi headed away from the stage and returned to his post by the door. When he looked back, he saw Kirby and Black exchanging words. Damn, if only he could hear them. So what if he could? Right now, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop the sale.

Kirby took the stage for a moment. “And now for our last event of the evening, we have something special. A man who chose our venue for his first time on the block.”

Levi’s nostrils flared.
Fucking liars.
No way did Noah choose this. He didn’t even know where he was.

The auctioneer came out and replaced Kirby on the platform. He tapped on the mike to get everyone’s attention. It was Noah’s turn.
Noah’s auction.
There was a knot in the pit of Levi’s stomach the size of Texas.

Everyone got quiet. So quiet, Levi swore everyone could hear his heart beat in the silence. The atmosphere in the room was charged with obvious sexual tension. Most of the bidders, dressed in tight black leather and other fetish clothing, were sporting ill-concealed erections.
The agent reached over, grabbed Noah’s leash, and gave it a tug. Levi wanted to kill him, but Noah just looked up at the auctioneer blankly and didn’t move. The auctioneer’s expression tightened, and he tugged again.

The crowd stirred. Loud murmurs and impatient whispers traveled from one horny man to another. They were tired of waiting. Grasping hands lifted the slave and set him down on the stage. Levi caught a glimpse of Noah’s frightened expression. It was as if Noah had just woke up and realized what was going on. Levi’s wolf clawed at his guts, wanting him to do something,
now
.

Too late. The auctioneer put a hand up for silence. “Like Mr. Kirby said, this auction is special. The slave comes with a one-year contract, to be renewed at the buyer’s discretion. All the necessary medical and psychological tests have been done, and the paperwork is complete. This slave is ready to give up all control to his new Master. So let’s get started. I’m going to open the bid at one hundred thousand.”

There was a collective gasp from the crowd. This was an unheard of starting bid. Kirby hadn’t been kidding. This auction was different. In the past, contracts had always been eligible for renegotiation after a week. A year was a long time, and it appeared that all the power was in the buyer’s hands. Whoever took Noah home could extend the contact with or without his consent. The whole situation stunk of corruption. This was a prearranged sale, not an auction. The members of this club had big bucks, but no one paid that kind of money for a slave, regardless of what kind of contract came with him. Only someone who had earmarked this slave for an ulterior purpose would cough up that kind of money. A number of people were profiting from Noah’s misery.
Who?

The grumbles and complaints died down, and finally a hush came over the crowd. A hand went up. It belonged to Simon Black. Despite his disgust, Levi had to admire the man’s demeanor. It must be hard to stay cool, calm, and collected in such a heated atmosphere. This guy must have balls of steel, and obviously money was no object to him.

“Do I hear one hundred and ten thousand?” The auctioneer screamed.

Dead silence was the response.

“Going once.” The auctioneer looked around the room.