Hidden Passions (15 page)

The
territory
certainly intrigued him. Fortunately, Chris was relaxed. Tony slid two fingers slowly in with no trouble. The tiger's passage was smooth and tight. Tony remembered how Chris had scissored his fingers apart to stretch him.

"Shit," Chris gasped, his back arching.

"Is that good?" Tony asked, thinking he recognized the reaction. His cock thought Chris was enjoying it. It was throbbing, nearly touching his belly.

Chris groaned and pushed closer. "Just don't . . . give me too much of that. I want to come with you in me."

Smiling, Tony stroked his fingers out and in again. "I thought you weren't going to be bossy."

"Just--" Chris squirmed and groaned some more "--expressing a preference."

Tony withdrew his fingers. Chris made a sound that, if you stretched it, could have been a whimper.

"You lube me up," Tony said.

Chris turned at his peremptory tone. His eyes were burning, their lids hooded. Looking authoritative was a challenge when you weren't the tallest, but Tony tried his best.

Giving in, Chris held out his hand for the tube of lubricant.

He oiled Tony more than he had to, pulling his fists up him hand over hand, slowly, tightly, until his cock felt stretched. From base to tip, his shaft hummed with readiness.

Chris let go to put one hand on Tony's shoulder. As if he were Tony's coach, he gave the muscle a little squeeze. "You don't need to be hesitant. Take me hard if that's what you're in the mood for. You know how strong shifters are. Trust me, I'll enjoy it."

Tony searched his face. He meant what he said. Tony could pound at him if he wanted. Tony could put everything into this. He didn't speak. He turned Chris around with his hands, guiding his arms up to grab the curtain pipe again. He wedged one bare foot between Chris's two, nudging his ankles wider for his soon-to-be entry. More than arousal or nerves had his pulse jumping in his throat. This was a different kind of first than the obvious.

Chris said
trust me
, but what he meant was:
I'm trusting myself to you
.

After the last four days, this was what Tony needed--more than being coddled or comforted. Chris had handed power to him at a time when he felt powerless.

He rubbed his face across Chris's shoulders, knowing the shower washed away the emotion that stung his eyes. One hand slid to Chris's hip. The joint was strong like the rest of him. He tipped his lubed cock to Chris's anus. Chris took a firmer grip on curtain pipe.

Tony's heart went crazy.

Chris pushed back as Tony pushed forward. Tony caught his breath at the sensation of going in--sort of what he expected and sort of not. The feeling was amazing. For a second he thought he'd come before he was all the way. Fortunately, the feeling eased. Chris gave a final wriggle, and Tony was surrounded.

"Good?" Chris asked in a harsh whisper.

"Really good." Tony drew back and thrust again cautiously. He moaned at the lush pleasure.

"Put . . . a little more pressure toward the front," Chris advised.

This was where his prostate was located. Tony smiled to himself. Chris couldn't help bossing him a bit. He pushed as the cat requested.

Apparently, he did it right.

"Unh," Chris said, his neck arching.

That was a thrill. Tony gave his cock to him harder, earning a louder groan.

"Fuck," Chris breathed.

A long noticeable tremor rolled up his back. Tony's excitement swelled at his success. Setting his feet more firmly in the tub, he gripped Chris's narrow hips, and went at him with real strength. Chris must have been longing for him to do this. A dozen deep thrusts later, his spine stiffened.

His seed spurted noisily against the shower curtain.

"Don't stop," he urged Tony, continuing to shove at him. "God, I need another."

Tony moved his hand to Chris's cock. His erection had flagged a little, but when he gripped it, it hardened up. Tony held it like Chris had earlier, tight around its middle, rubbing the skin over the firm center. Chris released the curtain pipe so he could wrap his palm around his own crown.

Oh that revved Tony's motor: to be pleasuring Chris's dick
with
him. He grunted and went faster, his stomach slapping Chris's hindquarters.

"Yes," Chris said, his hand screwing the crest wildly. "
Yes
."

Tony's beast seemed to take over. He hammered Chris, not holding back anything. He went so hard he nearly hurt himself. Incredible sensations blazed through his penis, down his thighs, and finally up his vertebrae. He hadn't known he could feel so much and not go over. His whole body was on fire.

Chris cried out, his ass squeezing Tony's cock.

Knowing Chris was coming, Tony gulped for air and shot out his pleasure.

One climax wasn't enough for him, any more than it had been for Chris. As soon as the contractions petered, he sped up and went again.

"God," Chris choked.

His cock twitched in Tony's grip. He'd had one last orgasm with Tony.

For half a minute all either could do was pant.

"Relax," Chris said, stroking Tony's knuckles. Tony's grip on his penis hadn't loosened at all.

"Shit," he exclaimed. "Sorry."

The tiger laughed breathlessly. "That's all right. I knew you weren't really going to wrench it off."

Tony cursed again, easing off him completely. Chris turned to face him. He was smiling in that I-know-a-joke way he had. "That was good, wolf. Nothing like an edge of danger to make for a great blastoff."

Tony blushed but managed not to repeat his apology. Chris had straightened. He'd bent forward to be taken, but now he reclaimed the inches of advantage he had over his partner. Seeming like he wanted to savor the aftermath, he stroked Tony's cheeks with his fingertips. His exotic eyes were wistful.

"I'd stay if I could," he said.

Tony believed him, but this didn't stop a cloudbank of heaviness from dropping over him. He forced himself to respond. "It was nice of you to stop by."

Chris let out a wry amused sound. "
Nice
is one way to put it. Look, I could make you something to eat if you're hungry. Or call for takeout."

"I'm not a kid."

"I'm aware of that." Chris cocked his head to one side at Tony's anger.

Too drained to argue, Tony exhaled a sigh. "I'm going to finish showering. Maybe you could let yourself out of the apartment."

Hurt tightened Chris's features, satisfying the child Tony had denied being. He clenched his jaw and didn't apologize for that either.

"Okay," Chris said. He touched Tony's arm, his fingers gentle on his bicep. "Call me if you need anything. I . . . Tony, I know this situation isn't perfect, but I want to be here for you."

Tony nodded. He couldn't slap at Chris for the offer; it was too decent. He drew the shower curtain aside for him. Chris stepped out, looking back at Tony from outside the tub. Though the tiger's expression didn't plead, it was very serious.

Tony thought Chris might say something. He turned instead, grabbed a towel on his way out, and left the bathroom to Tony.

~

Chris scrubbed the towel over his wet hair as he strode back to the entryway. The terrycloth didn't push any happier feelings into his brain. Chris knew Tony wasn't a kid. Okay, maybe he seemed like one compared to Chris. In this instance, however, Tony was being more mature.

The wolf was smart to keep an emotional distance. Getting attached to Chris would be a bad gamble. The problem was Chris had gotten attached to him. Though he tried to breathe more air into it, his chest was tight as he dried himself and dressed. His briefs were still in the bathroom. He'd have to go commando. Somehow, his shirt had ended up in the living room, hanging off the sofa arm. As he tugged it free, something else fell along with it.

It was another shirt, a dark blue Hugo Boss. The tiny stitches at the shoulder seams were stretched out enough to be visible.

This was the shirt Nate had been looking for, the shirt Tony had nabbed from Nate's work supply and worn. It must have been laundered before he borrowed it. Nate's scent barely clung to the fine cotton.

Chris balled the garment against his breastbone. This was how Tony had been comforting himself: not merely with the scent of pack but with the scent of a man he maybe wished were available. Was it a coincidence that Chris and Tony had their first sexual encounter in Nate's loft? Had the setting been an extra charge for the wolf? Maybe subconsciously?

He shook his head and set the shirt back where he'd found it. This wasn't his business.

He glanced back toward the bathroom. Though the sound of the shower had stopped, the door remained stubbornly closed. Chris wanted badly to open it. He wanted to kiss Tony, to lead him to his probable hurricane aftermath of a bedroom. He wanted to hold him safe in his arms while he slept soundly. Tony deserved real support from someone.

Tony deserved a man who'd be there in the morning.

Grimacing, Chris buttoned up his plain white shirt. He'd made his choices, and he'd long ago learned to live with them. Chris couldn't blame Tony if, right that moment, he ached with regret.

TONY was at his desk in the pack's squad room. His feet were stacked on top of a pile of files, and he'd leaned his weight steeply back in his swiveling chair. In response to a dull headache, he was squeezing his temples.

He'd been on hold for half an hour.

His own brainstorm was to blame for this. He'd had the brilliant idea of contacting the city's gargoyles. Not only was their species magically sensitive but, due to their roosting habits, they were in a position to observe unusual fae activity, including the sort Sword Guy was engaged in. Unlike normal psychics, gargoyles wouldn't gossip about what they'd seen--or about being asked. Gargoyles were protective of Resurrection, but they also were telepaths. Aside from Pidgin English, most avoided communicating verbally. The idea of letting the general public know they were highly intelligent didn't appeal to them.

Stupidly, Tony had called the Gargoyle Liaison Office, whose nighttime staff consisted of a single nervous human girl. She was attempting to contact her employers with mind power, because of course they didn't use cellphones. Every time Tony tried to tell her she could give up, she insisted she just needed one more minute.

"My bosses love helping the police," she declared.

Tony should have driven home instead. Their friend Grant the gargoyle lived on the brownstone roof. He flew out a lot after dark, but eventually he'd have landed. He spoke better English than Tony, at least when they were alone. Tony was totally spinning his wheels hanging on this line.

He wished he had a better use for his time. Rick and Cass had been gone ten days. The tracking chip in Rick's phone and the LoJack in their getaway car had been disabled. Tony told himself the pair had likely shut them off to avoid being followed by dragon-hunting fae. If his assumption was correct, their strategy worked equally well on friends. Cass's rich girl clique had no idea where she was, and they were worried too. As discreetly as he could, Adam had requested a high-res sat-search of the city and its environs. Nothing abnormal had turned up--or nothing abnormal for Resurrection. The squad was forced to return their focus to other cases. Working past regular hours was how they made up for it.

All of them were at the office now.

A sudden extra buzziness in the air caused Tony to jerk straight. "Sorry," he told the well-meaning gargoyle liaison. "Gotta go."

He hung up and dropped his beat-up running shoes to the floor. Without stopping to wonder why, he swiveled toward Adam's office, where the blinds were open but not raised. Nate and Carmine had just done the same as him.

Adam was on the phone, standing with his back to them. The abrupt flaring of his aura was what had alerted them.

"Jesus," Adam said. "Where the hell are you? Are you all right?"

He had to be talking to Tony's brother. Tony jumped up and bounded to Adam's door, his hearing automatically sharpening to listen for Rick's response. Adam didn't turn, just lifted his hand to prevent Tony from speaking.

"I'm fine," Rick's voice said tinnily. "But I don't have much time. Is this line secure?"

"Of course it is. What the hell is going on?"

"We have the dragons. We need you and the pack to protect them. Don't involve anyone you don't trust a hundred and ten percent. There's a second faerie involved in this. She's unaccounted for."

"And the first?" Adam sounded a helluva lot calmer than Tony could have done.

"Sword Guy is torturing Cass's father for information. We're hoping to rescue him."

Tony didn't like the sound of that. Faeries were dangerous. Getting between two of them in a fight wasn't an objective for sane people. Adam knew this as well as him.

"Rick," their lieutenant said. "Wait for us. Wherever you are, don't do anything crazy by yourself."

Tony was aware of Nate and Carmine scrambling to trace the incoming call. Tony couldn't move. His white-knuckled fingers were glued to Adam's doorframe.

"We can't wait," he heard Rick say. "Track my cellphone. If you lose the signal, we're in a spot only Nate and Evina know about."

"Only Nate and Evina . . . Rick--"Adam spat out a curse. Rick had hung up on him.

"Why does he want you to track his cell? Why can't he just tell us where he is?" Tony's voice was high, his energy ragged and uncontrolled. He swallowed and reined it in as Adam spun around.

The alpha's expression wasn't reassuring. "He's probably hoping to delay us. I suspect he doesn't want our help rescuing Cass's father. He must be afraid he'll get us killed."

"That's fucked," Tony said angrily. "Packs are stronger together."

Adam met his gaze without comment. That he agreed with his omega was obvious.

Carmine came up behind Tony. "Boss," he said. "We couldn't pinpoint the signal. Outside the city and to the south is the best the software is giving us."

The older wolf put his hand on Tony's shoulder, squeezing the muscle there. Tony realized he was shaking.