PacksBrokenHeart (20 page)

She startled just a little when he touched his lubed fingers to her puckered rosette. The sight of that vulnerable little opening, right above the tight ring of her pussy, stretched around the base of Tom’s cock, made Owen’s balls ache. He massaged her carefully, applied more lube and eased the tip of his finger into her. Both Suzanne and Tom gasped. In up to the first knuckle, pause, retreat. Alert for any signs of distress or tension, Owen eased into her tightness. A little deeper, a slow turn of his wrist then withdraw. When he added a second finger her thighs trembled and he waited until it stopped, until she looked back at him again and nodded jerkily. He moved his mouth over her back. Gentle, moist kisses while his breath misted her skin. His lips made love to the softness of her as he slid his fingers in and out of her ass.

Tom grunted again and lifted his head off the bed. He growled but it was a sound of pleasure, deeply erotic, and Owen realized the other male would feel his fingers moving in Suzanne. That they were probably rubbing over him. It was perverse and perverted and…and it was hotter than hell. Owen got off knowing he was turning on both weres. Pleasuring them at the same time was a heady thing and he stared into Tom’s eyes as the other were snarled and bared his teeth.

Owen’s gaze was drawn to the heavy muscles in Tom’s neck as the male leaned his head back. They were all so vulnerable there yet Tom had no problem baring his throat for Suzanne…and him. Humbled, Owen swallowed spasmodically. A vein echoed the beating of Tom’s heart and it was beautiful, powerful. Seductive. Turning away, Owen forced his full attention back to Suzanne’s ass. He slid his fingers out of her, took hold of his shaft, positioned the head against her opening and pushed.

Oiled heat fisted him, made him growl with pleasure at the same time as the female beneath him cried out in pleasure. That soft warm ass lifted to him, angled so he could slide in easier, although her tightness ruled out any sudden moves—for him and her.

Aware of the hard length of Tom’s cock inside her just on the other side of that thin, flexible wall, Owen held Suzanne’s hips, withdrew and pressed forward again. His lovers were perched on the edge of the bed. Tom’s feet were actually braced on the floor. Standing behind them gave Owen leverage and he positioned himself between both their legs, felt Suzanne’s soft thighs and Tom’s rough ones against his own. He watched his cock sink into her, pause then retreat. Using his strength, he rolled her hips in a subtle rhythm. He was fucking her, yes and pleasuring her and himself but through her he was pleasuring Tom as well. It was overwhelming to make love to them at the same time.

And he
was
making love to them. Owen guided her carefully, listened to the sounds she made, responded when she panted with rising need, backed off when her shoulders tensed. Through her he felt the thrusting of Tom’s cock. He smelled the other were’s need, felt his hand on his hip, another on his waist and wallowed in the contact. He felt joined to them and not just physically. Emotions he’d walled inside himself for over a decade rose in tentative waves while hunger set his teeth on edge and made the base of his spine tingle.

The needy sounds Suzanne was making began to rise in pitch and volume. Her body hummed between his and Tom’s. Owen saw her hands ball up the bed linens and squeeze. When she started shaking, when her body tensed and she cried out, Owen rode her hard. Lifting her hips, rocking her between him and Tom, he groaned when her ass bore down on him hard enough to make him snarl and sweat.

His eyes opened and he found himself staring down at Tom, saw the need in the other were’s face, felt his cock jerk against his.

Leaning forward, his hips pumping madly, Owen ground his mouth into Tom’s. He snapped his head back in disbelief. Tom looked just as shocked as Owen felt but the hand on his hip tightened, hauling him in closer. Letting go of Suzanne, Owen wiped the back of his hand across his mouth but he couldn’t stop staring at Tom. At those blue eyes, lighter than a midday sky, rimmed with ridiculously thick black lashes. Growling, Owen grabbed on to the back of Tom’s neck, lifted the other male’s mouth to his and kissed him hard.

His lips were soft. Of all the things Owen had expected, if he’d expected anything at all, it wasn’t this pliant warmth. While Suzanne cried out, while her body twitched and bore down on them rhythmically, Owen held his breath in wonder. It wasn’t like kissing a woman. The neck he was holding was thick and strong. The mouth grinding into his didn’t flinch when Owen showed his strength. Tom stormed his mouth. His tongue moved with authority, without apology. They gasped at the same time, sucking the breath from each other, then Owen slanted his head and took Tom’s mouth as if he owned it.

Suzanne was still making those sharp, rising sounds of release, her body was still squeezing him hard when the tingle in Owen’s spine shifted into his balls. He huffed, misting Tom’s cheeks with hot air at the same time as the other were groaned and arched.

Pleasure, sharp and encompassing, drew Owen’s balls up so tight they ached. He felt the throb of Tom’s release against the underside of his cock about two seconds before Owen came. Their lips went slack but didn’t break contact as Owen fought to breathe through the waves of ecstasy. His. Suzanne’s. Tom’s.

When it was over, when he could finally fill his lungs and summon enough wit to hoist some of his weight off them, Owen continued to hold his lovers. Suzanne’s hip. Tom’s neck. She turned her head, nuzzled his cheek until he offered his mouth. He kissed her softly, feeling a strange reverence as her lips moved, softened beneath his. A smile shaped her lips and he returned it. When she pulled away and nuzzled Tom’s cheek Owen watched with a contentment that felt so strange it was fuzzy. She kissed the other were as gently as she’d kissed him, let him shape her lips, tug on them with his own as he smoothed her hair back and caressed her cheek.

“It’s okay.”

Owen blinked when he heard Suzanne’s soft voice, when he realized she was looking at his profile… Looking back and forth between his and Tom’s, smiling with growing languor. Encouragement. Acceptance.

Carefully, expecting a rebuke, wondering why the hell he even wanted to, Owen kissed Tom again. He felt Suzanne’s gaze on them. He also felt that weird bond when they were together. That sense of belonging. Tom returned the kiss. It wasn’t delicate like Suzanne’s. Tom knew what he wanted and had no problem expressing that. Yet the kiss wasn’t hard either. Both males tempered their strength, maybe because they were nervous. Maybe because the repletion emanating off Suzanne was filling them too. Owen touched Tom’s tongue with his and his taste buds perked when they caught a subtle hit of citrus.

Suzanne shifted between them just a little and lifted her head so she could rub her cheek against his then Tom’s, nuzzle her forehead into their temples, drop soft, sweeping kisses onto the corners of their mouths.

After what felt like a long time, Owen pulled back. He eased his deflating cock out of Suzanne’s rear and stared raptly as Tom slid out of her as well. His lovers were shiny with a liberal coating of her cream and Tom’s cum. Owen was so moved by the eroticism of the sight that he caressed her back, kneaded the muscles delicately. He helped her to stand, pulled her into his body so her breasts nestled warm and sweet between them and kissed her like he’d kissed Tom.

When she padded off in the direction of the bathroom, he realized both he and the other male were watching her twitching backside. Chuckling, Owen climbed into bed beside Tom who hoisted himself up and dropped his head on one of the pillows.

Owen pulled the covers over both of them and stretched out on his back. Staring up at the ceiling, he flexed his body gingerly, enjoying the postcoital, well-used feeling in his muscles. Tom’s arm was touching his. It was still weird but Owen felt no urge to pull away. The warmth was pleasant and he felt comfortable. His lids began to get heavy. It was still too early for supper and his body wanted a nap in the worst way. As tiredness wrapped around him, Owen rolled into Tom’s warmth. The other male shifted too so that Owen could spoon into his back, rest his knees behind Tom’s, drape an arm over the were’s heavy rib cage.

The far side of the bed dipped under Suzanne’s weight. The blankets shifted then settled back into place along with the soft warmth of her body pressing into his back. She kissed his neck, touched the tip of her tongue to his skin like she was tasting him and did it again as if she liked it. Breasts, hips and arm snuggled him from behind, warm breath traced his shoulder, a solid back rose and fell against his chest as he curled between them and fell asleep.

“You’re probably sick of me by now.”

Piper touched his head as she removed his empty breakfast plate. “It
was
pretty crowded the past few days but it’s just family now.”

Owen noticed she touched her sons’ heads like she’d touched his as she moved around the kitchen table. Whether consciously or unconsciously she was reassuring herself of the bonds between them, maybe even just their presence.

He also didn’t mind so much being counted an honorary member of the family. Setting down his coffee mug, he turned to Geoff. “I made some inquiries about getting in an interim pharmacist.”

Geoff and his brother Ty paled like the words hurt but they didn’t balk. They looked up at Owen with identical resigned expressions. Katherine Clark, who’d spent the night and was now having breakfast with her family, squared her shoulders and gave him a quick nod of approval.

Owen continued, “I’ve got three interviews set up. One’s a were, two aren’t. The pharmacist from Cutler’s pack will drive over tomorrow and vet them.”

Like her sons, Piper was pale. When she stepped away from the kitchen counter Owen stood, took her arm and guided her into an empty chair at the table.

“Closing the pharmacy’s not an option,” he said as gently as he could. “Yesterday there was a farming accident near the county line. The doc told me she had to call a pharmacy way out in Lander for meds.”

Piper looked at her sons. They looked back at her before returning their focus to Owen.

“Geoff, when you graduate,” Owen said, “you’ll take over the pharmacy. That’s still the plan, I assume.”

“Yeah.” Geoff lifted his chin. He reached across the table, squeezed his mother’s hand then let go. “Probably. Dad was planning on retiring within five years.”

Owen nodded. “Okay. No pressure on you to make any decisions about your future right now. Piper, I believe Cory’s will gives you ownership of the pharmacy.” She paled a little more but lifted her chin like her son had. Katherine put an arm around Piper’s shoulder. “I suggest you offer whichever pharmacist gets the job a temporary contract. Come to the interviews if you’re up for it. You too, Ty. Geoff, you definitely need to be there. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” Geoff didn’t sound too sure but he answered quickly enough despite that.

“Good.” Owen leaned forward. “Your options for after graduation are open. No doors are going to close so you take all the time you need to decide.” Deliberately, Owen reined in his intensity as he settled back in his chair. “So how long can you boys stay?” he asked, changing the subject.

Geoff and Ty looked at each other then their mother. “Until next week, maybe,” Ty, the more outgoing of the two, said. He brushed back his too-long brown hair. “We’re both excused from classes on compassionate grounds but we still have to pass our finals.”

“There’s six weeks of classes left,” Geoff explained. “I probably won’t pass if I miss them. Which means I’d have to repeat the year.” He shook his head. “Mom and I started talking about it last night but I haven’t decided yet.”

Owen nodded. “What about you, Ty?”

“Wunderkind there,” Geoff answered for his brother, “has already started in on advanced assignments for next term.” Grinning wryly, he balled up his napkin and threw it at his brother’s head. “Brownnoser.”

“Geek,” Ty shot back as he ducked. “I’m going back,” he said eventually, folding and refolding the napkin he’d caught. “I’m on scholarship so if I blow off school I’m basically stealing a spot away from a student who can’t afford the tuition. And I…I miss Jess.”

“Jess?” Owen asked. He drank the last of his coffee and smiled at Ty’s self-conscious grin.

“My girlfriend. She’d studying modern dance and theater. She’s not a were though.” He looked up at Owen. “You ever date a non-were?”

Date? He’d never really dated anybody. Fucked, yes, but a family breakfast seemed an imprudent occasion to discuss that.

“I’ve known a few,” he hedged. “I’m sure she’s terrific even if she isn’t were. Hell, nobody’s perfect.”

That made the others laugh like he’d hoped it would. When the laughter died down he excused himself, parked his butt behind Cory’s desk and started tackling the email that had piled up.

Owen pulled off his sweater then let his head fall back. The night air felt good on his skin. They’d buried Cory three days before and the pack needed this run. Hell,
he
needed this run. Everything about his life had changed and he still wasn’t sure he liked it.

He was, however, stuck with it. For now. In Cory’s memory and for Piper’s and the pack’s sake, he’d be what they needed him to be.

For now.

“Hey, Laura,” he called out when he spotted a tiny redhead at the edge of the clearing. He made his way over to the interim pharmacist they’d hired. “Come and meet my friends.” She tensed a little when he took her hand and, wearing a slightly blank look, glanced up at him shyly. He didn’t give in to her submissive need to hide in the background. Instead he firmed his grip on her hand and pulled her alongside him without yanking.

“Tom, Suzanne, I’d like you to meet Laura Samuels. She’s the new pharmacist I told you about.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Tom and Suzanne are deputy sheriffs so if you ever have any trouble down at the pharmacy, give them a shout.”

“N-nice to meet you both,” Laura said and held out her hand. It shook a little.

“Nice to meet you,” Tom said and clasped her small hand in his. “Piper said she was glad a were applied for the position. Thanks for pulling up stakes and coming here so quick.”

“M-my pleasure.” She glanced up at Tom like she’d done with Owen but she managed a nervous smile when Suzanne took her hand and beamed down at her. “I was a rotating fill-in for a pharmacy chain in Iowa. I-I like having something permanent instead.”

“Perfect.” Tom touched his forehead to hers. She stiffened then gradually relaxed into the gesture. “Good for you. Good for us.”

Geoff Amos had edged close and Owen made room for him to join them. “Hey, Geoff. Just introducing Laura to the local law enforcement.”

“Now she’ll know who to call if she gets busted for speeding.”

They laughed, mostly at the idea of the timid were doing anything outside the law.

When Geoff maneuvered so he was standing close enough to Laura to touch her shoulder with his, the movement wasn’t lost on Owen. He smiled to himself. With a subtle nod, he turned Tom and Suzanne’s attention to Piper, standing a few feet away, surrounded by family. With Geoff and Laura in tow, they made their way over to her.

Tom complimented Piper on how pretty she looked. Suzanne admired her shoes. Myra, the waitress down at the diner, came up and asked Piper if she’d like to join a progressive euchre group that met the first of every month. Standing at Piper’s side, Owen lifted his head and scanned the crowd. He noticed Tom doing the same. In various stages of undress, pack members were milling around. They gave off the scent of unease and they moved in random directions, like ships with the rudders smashed away. Gradually most of them made their way over to say hello, to him
and
Tom, to chat with Piper, to talk to the boys and ask about their plans for the summer.

Small talk mostly. Tom handled it casually, warmly. Owen still felt like a fraud but he kept up the friendly veneer. When Suzanne gave his arm a squeeze every now and then it made it easier to accept the deference surrounding him.

Some weres asked about the investigations into Cory’s and Ed’s murders. Some were scared. But when two couples admitted to keeping their cubs out of school Owen knew he had to speak up.

Amazed by the stupidity of his actions, Owen stepped away from the others and lifted his head. “Your hierarchy has been cut down.” Conditioned by years of giving orders, his voice rang through the clearing. All conversation stopped and every face turned toward him. “You’re frightened. Anxious.” He paused, letting the hard truth of that sink in. “But you
are
a pack.” He felt Suzanne and Tom step up, one on either side of him. “Nobody’s going after you, your pups or your loved ones.” There was absolute surety in his voice. “Tom and Suzanne are two of the finest law-enforcement officers I’ve ever met. They will find out who did this and you will have justice. In the meantime fight back by refusing to roll over and bare your bellies. Cory wouldn’t want you to.”

“Ed would whup asses and ask questions later.” Tom’s summation made the group laugh…and they laughed like they were hearing a truth.

David Hold, the diner owner, lifted his head in the ensuing silence. “Owen, I don’t want to sound patronizing but I think I’m speaking for a lot of folks when I say thank you for stepping up and helping us through this.” He swallowed audibly. “But aren’t you putting yourself in the line of danger
by
stepping up? I don’t know you that well but I do like you. I was hoping you’d stick around. Us old single farts like having a young single fart around.”

Again the pack laughed and in it Owen could hear the release of some of their anxiety.

David turned to Tom. “Can’t we do something to keep Owen and our other leaders from being singled out? Why can’t we, I don’t know, have a group of interim leaders instead? Spread the responsibility and the risk around. At least until the murderer is caught.”

“Who’s protecting Katherine and what’s left of our hierarchy?” This came from a younger female. Owen didn’t know her name.

“Are you sure our cubs are safe?”

Tom addressed the pack’s questions and fielded some to Owen, although neither gave out strategic information that was being withheld deliberately. Soon, though, the talk broke down into small-group discussions with little alleviation in worry for anybody. Instinct told Owen only one thing would make these people feel better—a run—and even that was a Band-Aid solution. He gave them a few more minutes to talk then, feeling like more of a fraud than ever, started taking off the rest of his clothes.

Whether by design or not the others copied his example. He hated how easy it was for them to follow him, although he hadn’t expected anything less. For the first time in his life Owen lifted his face to the moon and cried out, “Let the run begin.”

His voice was foreign to his ears—guttural as his changing vocal cords struggled with the subtleties of human speech they were suddenly no longer capable of. What started off as words ended in a howl. Pain splintered through his chest, radiated down his arms and legs. It dropped him to the ground where he trembled and forced himself not to cry out. His skull ached as it elongated, thickened and pulled his eyes back into almond shapes. Heavy fur whispered against his skin as it burst free of tight follicles all over his body. It lay in a thick protective pelt over his belly, covered every inch of his groin, crawled over his penis where a heavy sheath now encased him.

Lifting his head, Owen’s wolf scented the air. There was anxiety in this pack, the kind that could lead to unrest and foolish actions.

The first fool caught Owen’s eye as it separated itself from the others. Tail high, a young gray wolf walked straight up to Owen. Aggression saturated the air around it.

Owen and the other wolf circled each other. The gray charged, pulled up at the last minute, huffed so hard it sprayed Owen’s coat with spit then tried to circle around him for a sniff.

Owen was having no part of that. No wolf smelled him first. Owen snapped, closing his jaws less than an inch from the gray wolf’s neck, then held himself ready. The gray tried again. A civil reprimand hadn’t worked so Owen ramped up his game. He snarled, darted forward, closed his teeth over the male’s ruff then released. This time the gray stood still and let Owen circle him, sniff first. When Owen was finished he let the other wolf smell him. Owen’s wolf knew the power it projected and had no problem letting a lesser challenger get close. That calm, absolute authority was the core of him. The gray wolf moved away.

Two young, cocky wolves approached the large black male at Owen’s side. He watched closely. This challenge was the other wolf’s but Owen knew him, felt a great bond between them. If Owen was ever to have a Beta, it would be him.

The other males bluff-charged, pulled up, charged again. The black wolf sent them scurrying with an ominous growl and a well-aimed nip.

A few other males strolled by. They watched the fights, such as they were, lifted their noses and sniffed him and the black wolf from a distance. Owen’s wolf knew more challenges would come over the next days. There was a void in this pack. He’d stepped into it. It wasn’t a decision he’d made, it was something that simply had to be. If he was worthy he’d hold on to leadership of this pack.

His nose followed the sleek golden-brown bitch who’d been standing nearby. She moved toward a nervous cluster of females. At their center was a silver-tipped wolf. The heady, righteous strength of a top bitch radiated off her but she was old. Too old to fend off serious challenges. Few came. Mostly one bitch or another bounced their shoulder into hers. Another snapped her jaws then moved away. The golden-brown female smelled the ranking wolf and didn’t balk when the older female rebuked her. When she was finished the younger female strolled back to Owen. Owen and the black male.

Other males lifted their heads as she passed. He knew firsthand how mouthwatering her scent was. Other females cuffed their mates when they showed too much interest.

The prime golden-brown female stepped between him and the black male. She rubbed the top of her head against their cheeks, licked their snouts, leaned her smaller body into theirs.

Owen’s wolf stayed in the clearing longer than it normally would. He accepted play overtures when they were extended, sniffed other wolves when they held themselves still for him. There were few in this pack he knew, fewer that knew him and he gave them an opportunity to learn his scent, gauge his strength. A few single prime bitches strolled by, cocked their tails as they passed, gazed at him with sultry sideways glances. He smelled what was offered but took it no further. The pull the golden-brown female had on him was too strong. She was approached by other wolves as well. Owen’s wolf could smell she was new to this pack too and he saw how seamlessly she made herself part of the group. The easygoing way she had of demonstrating her strength without rubbing it in anyone’s face.

The black wolf stayed close to both of them and they stayed close to him like a sun and its orbiting planets.

Finally, when Owen’s wolf was itchy with the need to run off its residual foolish anxieties, he howled, crying out an invitation, and took off through the trees with the black male, the golden-brown female and every other wolf still in the clearing racing and yelping with joy in his wake.

“So what do you want me to say to him when we get there?” Owen stretched in the passenger seat of Tom’s pickup.

Tom snorted and as a concession turned down the volume on his favorite country and western station when Owen’s hand twitched in the direction of the radio. The man did have an unnatural hate for the glories of country. “I thought you’d be able to figure that out yourself.”

“It’s early. We went to sleep late. Some help would be appreciated here.”

“All right. His name is Brodie Dell and he’s our dispatcher. Well,
was
our dispatcher until he took a leave of absence. I need him to come back to work. Hell, for his own mental health
he
needs to come back to work.” Tom pulled up in front of a neat bungalow with a big spring-bare vegetable plot on the south side.

A pretty middle-aged female wearing a nurse’s uniform let them in.

“Hey, Missus Dell.” He touched his hat to the female who’d let them in. “Hey, Brodie,” Tom said as a male with dark circles under his eyes hoisted himself out of a living room recliner. “Thought I’d bring Owen around to say hi.”

Brodie Dell was an inch short of six feet and broad in the chest and had the beginnings of a pot belly. His short gray hair was rumpled and his blue eyes looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks.

From the kitchen, Tom smelled fresh coffee brewing. He figured Owen could use another cup but Brodie had the look of a man who was being held together with caffeine and prayer…and the caffeine just wasn’t cutting it anymore.

“Sit down, boys,” Brodie offered. He waved a tired hand at the comfortable-looking sofa and chairs ringing the room. “I’ve heard good things about you, Owen.”

“Well, I’d like you to see firsthand and make your own opinions,” Owen said. There was an honesty in his bluntness that always took the sting out of it. “Word has it you haven’t left this house since Ed’s murder except to go to his funeral. You didn’t come to Cory’s.”

The older were flushed and looked out the window.

“That’s not an insult,” Owen continued. “Just an observation. Why haven’t you gone back to work?”

Brodie blinked, looked at Tom then Owen. “Every time I think about it all I can see is Ed’s empty office. The way he left it that morning.” He ran his hand over his face. “The sound of his voice that morning over the radio when I sent him to…” Brodie’s voice dried up and, with his elbows planted on his knees, he hung his head.

Tom stood and laid his hand on the back of Brodie’s neck. Although he didn’t lift his head Brodie leaned into the touch like he was accepting the comfort being offered. The pain emanating off the dispatcher was raw and familiar because not a day went by that Tom didn’t feel it too. Difference was he’d been born with just enough strength to keep him functioning through one day into the next.

“Do you need more time or do you need to quit?”