Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love (25 page)

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “I’m not going to touch that comment with a whip and chair,” he said, guiding her leg over the saddle. “Smells like something Fortrayn would say, but no, we are not going to make love when we get home. You’re already so sleepy you can barely keep your eyes open.”

She opened her eye to their widest. “Yes, I can ... see? I am not shlee ... er, not seep ...

hell, I’m sleepy!”

Hunter’s low chuckle held a wealth of amusement. “Girl, you’re so high with sleep deprivation right now, if I lit a match, you’d combust.”

“You mean I’m full of gas!” She laughed like a hyena at that concept.

“Find that hilarious, do you?” Hunter eased his woman to a seated position. “Put your feet on the running boards, baby. Now lean back so I can get my leg over,” he ordered, one hand hovering carefully to ensure she didn’t fall off.

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“Okay, we’re going to take the ride home very easy, hon. Just lean forward and put your head on my back. No, come closer -- close enough to press your pussy against my back.”

“Like this ...?”

Her hot little cunt felt like a nuclear plant at the base of his spine. Hunter groaned.

“Yes, just like that. Now, loop your hands in my belt ... no, in the front, so your arms are around my waist. Yes, that’s better. I don’t want you falling off.”

“If I fall off, will you catch me?”

He could feel her lips move against his back as she spoke. Her words vibrated in his heart as well as his ears. Hunter patted Melody’s hand, kicked the stand up, and revved the throttle. Just before he roared off the bridge, he picked up one of her hands and pressed it to his lips. “I’ll always be there to catch you, sweet bitch. Death couldn’t keep me from you.”

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Hunter pulled the Lexus up to the curb and looped his arms over the steering wheel.

Turning his head, he stared up the slope at the two-story house taking up a quarter of the secluded city block, wary and tense.

It wasn’t Nob Hill, but it wasn’t too far off. Morrison had certainly moved up in the world since the days when he’d visited with the young black family. Still, Hunter wasn’t impressed. He’d never wanted to live the life of the rich and famous.

Kevin, on the other hand, seemed to have paid for his present level of success by bartering the traits of loyalty and honor that had originally drawn Hunter and he together and made them friends, partners, and brothers

Still studying the house, Hunter knew he could easily afford far greater than this level of opulence. If Melody ever decided she wanted something like this, he would have to give up the comfortable duplex in the ’burbs ... He sighed. Only for Mel would he contemplate living in a plastic fishbowl as ugly as the one Kevin had bought to bolster his consequence.

“Is this it?” Melody touched his thigh, her hand skimming down to his knee.

“Yeah, this is Morrison’s house.”

“Okay.” Lowering her voice, she asked, “It’s kind of ugly, huh?”

“You really think so?”

“Definitely. So now, we’ve decided the house stinks -- what are we going to do? Sit out here all day?”

“No.” Hunter drew in a deep breath, tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart. He drummed his fingers on the top of the steering wheel. “I guess we can go in if you’re ready.”

Melody’s eyebrows rose. “If I’m ready ...? Good grief, Hunter, I’ve never seen you so nervous. I thought this was just Sunday dinner with the boss. What aren’t you telling me?”

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“You know Kevin and I used to be partners,” Hunter began. “What you don’t know is that we were very close -- so close he named me his twins’ godfather. We got this call and responded to what turned out to be an ambush. Outnumbered and trapped in an alley, the perps had Kevin down, were beating him to death. The only way to save his life was to shift and reveal what I was. I killed all the men -- had to -- they’d seen me turn, and they weren’t the kind of men to remain quiet about something like that. Besides, they were hardened killers who’d earned the electric chair years ago.

“Kevin left me in that alley, facing his would-be killers. He ran off -- just stole away, hiding his family from me. I never heard from him until almost two years ago, when the city called me in to work with the department to bust a serial killer’s string of murders. They needed my help because the killer turned out to be a rogue wulf.”

Melody twisted, hiking her left jean-clad leg up onto the seat, facing Hunter. “You mean that sorry sack of --” She threw a glance toward the back seat and Blair’s interested face and modified her speech. “-- doo-doo cut you off from your godchildren without a word? He didn’t even let you tell them goodbye?”

The old hurt welled up, constricting his throat and choking him with sadness. “No, he didn’t. I don’t know how the twins will react when they see me. Hell, I hope they even remember me ...”

Melody frowned. “How old were they when you saw them last?”

“Three years old.”

“Three? How old are they now?”

“Eighteen. It’s been fifteen years.” His voice hitched on the last word. His hope dimmed, correctly reading the sympathetic glances Melody was giving him. “They probably won’t remember me, huh?”

“They might, baby.”

She didn’t sound too sure, and her tentative pats on the knee didn’t do much to bolster his dying expectations. He bit his lip. “I think I’d rather they didn’t remember me. It would be better than having them thinking I deserted them without a word.”

Melody squeezed his hand. “You really loved those kids, didn’t you?”

Hunter nodded. “I still do. That’s why I put up with so much of their dad’s bullshit.”

A pinch and a fulminating glare reminded him about big ears and little pitchers. “Oh, shit, I forgot.”

“Hunter McCallum!”

He turned in his seat and faced the back, locking glances with Blair’s bright brown eyes. “Bad Daddy,” he said, slapping his lips with two fingers, “bad, bad Daddy! We don’t use that kind of language, no, no!”

Blair giggled. Daddy bad!

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“Use words, Blair.” Hunter admonished sternly. “You need to start speaking out loud, buddy. No more mind-speak until you’ve mastered your first language.”

Blair pouted, crossed his arms over his chest and threw his small body against the back of his car seat. Hunter fought to keep the smile off his face as he shook his finger in the truculent little face. “Listen up, cub ... you do as you’re told, not what you want. You’re not Alpha enough to give me grief right now. Show throat, or I’ll nip you.”

Hunter had never spoken so harshly to Blair before and it about killed him when his adoptive son lifted astonished and hurt eyes to the only father figure he’d ever had. That bottom lip trembled and so did Hunter’s insides, but he held firm, knowing the boy was probably playing him for all he was worth.

“That sad sack act is not going to win you any points, puppy,” Hunter informed Blair.

“A disobedient cub is a danger to the pack and a disgrace to his or her parents.”

He watched, stern-faced -- peripherally aware of Melody’s clenched hands, but calm, neutral expression -- until the toddler squeezed his eyes tight and turned his head to the side, presenting his throat.

“Good boy!” Hunter praised him, rubbing his hair and patting his back and shoulders.

“Daddy’s proud of you.”

He shuddered, feeling the relief down to his bones that he wouldn’t have to make good on his threat to Blair. Sometimes, it happened a cub was born with exceptional nerve and an indefinable air of self-possession that rebelled against even the slightest push to control them. Such cubs were natural-born Alphas, prized among the packs. Blair was such a pup.

Correct discipline was very important. Hunter didn’t want to break the spirit of a young Alpha, yet he couldn’t allow the child to run wild.

Blair rubbed his head against Hunter’s caressing hand, his little tongue coming out to swab over his dad’s thick wrist.

Hunter laughed and exchanged a parental glance with Melody, who had relaxed back against her seat. “Crisis over ... and thank you for your trust,” he whispered, letting their cub express apologies and respect for a little while more. “Okay, big boy, that’s enough. No licking around the humans -- they don’t know our ways. That’s why you have to talk English. No growls or howls in this place. I’ll let you know when you can go back to normal,” he promised.

Melody’s smile was rueful. “Listening to you talk to our son is like stepping off into the Twilight Zone. ‘Speak English among the natives, son. Don’t let them know we’re not like them. Don’t forget to wear your mask ...’” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Too strange!”

The look Hunter gave her made her smile fade. “When will you accept that we are aliens among these humans? You are more closely linked, as is Blair, but you are still different. You both are. You think you’ve faced prejudice as a black woman; wait until someone finds out you’re a Breed, part wulf.”

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Melody placed a loving hand on Hunter’s face. He rolled his cheek into her palm, pressing against her cupped hands, nuzzling closer to her precious scent. “Is that what happened to you, Hunter?”

He nodded.

“Then why come here? Why bother with these people?” Her expression hardened.

“They’re not worth a moment of your pain or worry.”

Hunter straightened up and moved back to his side of the car, but not before planting a lingering kiss on Melody’s upturned lips. “I won’t try to convince you not to be angry with Kevin, but I don’t think the rest of his family knew anything. In their eyes, I’m the one who just stopped coming over. I’m not totally sure what story Morrison spun, but for sure, he didn’t bother to make me look good.”

Melody’s full lips turned down and drew thin. “See, that’s what I don’t like. I think this is so unfair to you! I don’t understand how you can tolerate this situation. I would have done something about it a long time ago.”

“I wasn’t in the position to push the issue until now.” Hunter blew out a breath.

Placing both hands on the wheel, he stiffened his arms and pushed his back into the seat behind him. Turning just his head, his eyes met Melody’s, and he felt himself relaxing as calm poured over him, soothing the rough edges of the jagged pain that had ridden him for years.

She did that for him -- gave him peace in turmoil, ease in trouble. Hunter sighed in contentment. Melody was his heart’s home and his lodestone all in one. He could do anything with her at his side -- including face the godchildren he’d loved and lost fifteen years ago. Leaning over, he pulled her to him, hugged her big, beautiful body close to his. “I love you. Let’s get this done.”

He released Mel and pulled the keys out of the ignition, opened the door and stepped out, tucking them in his back pocket. Looking over the hood for a moment, he steadied himself before opening the back door and smiling at his stepson. “Come on, buddy, let’s get you out of there.”

Extracting Blair from the intricate tangles of his car seat harness was the work of a moment. Hunter prided himself he’d become used to dealing with all the attendant chores and necessities surrounding a small, inquisitive toddler, over the last few months.

Blair in his arms, diaper bag over his shoulder, Hunter came around to Melody’s door and held it open, giving her his free arm as she exited the car.

“Remember,” Melody said, twining her fingers in his, “stay calm and cool. You don’t want his kids to think their dad was right to ban you from seeing them.”

An angry growl rumbled in his chest. Hunter’s eyes narrowed in agitation at the thought of what Kevin had done, not only to him, but also to his own children. His fingers 138

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gripped Mel’s with a pressure just short of dangerous. “You better keep your hands on me, then,” he advised. “Your touch is the only thing that can calm me down.”

Melody stilled beside him. “Hunter, that is so touching. I love that you’re comfortable with revealing and sharing your innermost feelings with me. You make me know I’m special to you.”

“Yeah, well, I wanna get laid tonight.”

Melody’s jaw dropped. When she snapped her mouth shut, her full lips had thinned.

“Then again,” she snarled, “just when I’m basking in the glow of a lovely sentiment, you’ll say the most gawd-awful thing!”

Hunter’s loud guffaw echoed down the empty street. “I was kidding, honey.”

She looked at him askance, sherry-brown eyes still slitted in agitation. “You were not.”

Hunter gave her one of his best innocent little-boy grins, loving the way her eyes flashed and her lovely dark skin flushed. She looked just like she did when they were making love. “I wasn’t joking about wanting to get laid -- I always want that,” he admitted, laying his hand over his heart. “It was the timing that was the joke. I knew you would bust a gasket if I said that right then.”

“Yeah? Well, you were right! Unless you’re very lucky, you won’t be getting any tonight.”

Buford tightened and hardened in protest. A lump formed in his throat and sank to his stomach. “Come on, Mel, don’t be that way. I hate it when females always play the sex card when males best them. I don’t know why you took offense ... it was a damned joke.”

Melody rolled her eyes and canted her head toward Blair.

Hunter flexed his arm and brought the boy up to face-level. “Blair, put your hands over your ears ... Daddy’s about to cuss!”

The toddler slapped both hands over his ears, bright eyes gleaming as his head bounced back and forth between Hunter and Melody.

Satisfied his son had obeyed him, Hunter looked at Melody through narrowed eyes.

“I’m not sleeping on any fucking couch, either,” he declared angrily. “It’s my den and my bed. And --” He pointed a finger at her open mouth. “-- before you get your mouth running, I’ll just tell you I won’t tolerate you sleeping anywhere but in my bed with me. If you’re ever angry enough to deny me, I won’t take you by force, but you can lay your ass in the bed beside me and fume. That’s what mated pairs do. There’s none of that sleeping apart and then growling at the partner who’s casting hungry looks in other directions. If you feed me at home, I won’t have to roam!”