When Will I See You Again (9 page)

“I’m just going to close my eyes for a minute. Wake me up soon,” he murmured. The wolf made no reply, but he hadn’t really expected one.

Alexx curled up around the warm body. The sound of the rain outside was soothing, and before he fell asleep, he began to whistle one of his favorite tunes. He cuddled the wolf, holding him gently as he filled the air with the familiar strains of “Bolero,” until his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

CHAPTER 6

Raoul loved dancing with Jamie. Despite the fact that his
boyfriend had no real sense of rhythm and a distinct propensity for
stepping on his feet, some of their best moments were spent on the
dance floor. Nothing else mattered, not when their bodies were
pressed close together, writhing in time to a driving beat, or
twined in the throes of a slow sexy shuffle as they gazed deeply into
one another’s eyes. Then all was forgiven and forgotten. What
were a few sore toes compared to such bliss?

The beach house was alive with light and music. The entire
graduating class was there. They wriggled together in a joyful
mass, celebrating the end of their enslavement to the public school
system. Jamie and Raoul were pressed together in the thick of the
throng.
Jamie leaned close to Raoul, so close that their cocks instantly
attempted to engage. Raoul moaned. When it came to Jamie, it
didn’t take much to make him horny and ready to go. Jamie
nibbled at his earlobe. “Let’s go out to the beach,” he whispered,
and Raoul’s body flared with lust.

Jamie’s hands slid down Raoul’s back and squeezed his ass
with purposeful intent.

“When?”

“Now—”

Jamie ground against him, deliberately fanning the flame.

Everyone else receded into the background. They were an island of
love in a world of their own, and there was no room for anyone
else.

“Now sounds perfect.”

Raoul swallowed, resisting the impulse to pick Jamie up, sling
him over his shoulder, and carry him up to his bedroom right then
and there. If Jamie wanted the beach, then that was what he’d get.

“I’ll grab a blanket and meet you there.” His lips next to
Jamie’s ear, his voice hoarse with desire, but the message came
through loud and clear.

Jamie smirked sexily. He took a step back, teasing his hand
over Raoul’s hardening cock. “I’ll be waiting,” he mouthed,
before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Raoul felt a surge of momentary panic as Jamie’s figure faded
from view. He took a step after him, but his momentum was
arrested as a hand grabbed his arm and he found himself dragged
away from the music and the brightness, into a dimmer quieter
hallway.

Surprised, he glared at the blond who gripped his arm. Raoul
Marchand was not accustomed to being treated so cavalierly. The
only person he suffered to touch him whenever he wanted was
Jamie, and this was not Jamie.

“Foster, what the fuck are you doing?”

The blond seemed to flush under Raoul’s anger, but he never
lost his smile. “Sorry, I wanted to talk to you and I didn’t think I
could make myself heard above that noise.”

Raoul shook his head in irritation. He didn’t have time for this.

He had a date to keep.

“Can this wait? I have to go.”

He seemed to hear Jamie’s voice, calling to him, although he
was long gone by now. “Raoul, where are you? Hurry!”

He took a step away, and again Foster grabbed his arm. This
time Raoul growled.

Jamie’s voice became more plaintive. “I need you, Raoul.

Now.”

“I’m coming,” he murmured. He forcefully broke free of the
restrictive arm, the anger of the wolf just beneath the surface.

Suddenly he found himself barefoot on the beach, running
across the wet sand. It squished between his toes as he ran.

“Where are you, Jamie?” The darkness was thick and
impenetrable. He couldn’t see a fucking thing, wasn’t even sure
what part of the beach he was on, or if he was going in the right
direction.

“Listen and you’ll find me,” Jamie’s voice advised.

A whistle pierced the night. Raoul attempted to home in on the
sound. He stopped and listened, trying to follow it blindly along
the beach. Once he stumbled and fell, dropping to the sand. The
tide surged about him, taunting him, soaking him. Determinedly he
rose to his feet and shambled on, following the sounds of Jamie’s
tune.
Jamie’s whistling soothed him. It was familiar, it was precious,
it was everything he wanted in life, and it was calling him home…

*

An unbridled joy crept through Raoul, stealing into every part of his body, cuddling his soul. He burrowed into the warmth of it, into the familiar feel of Jamie’s arm draped across his torso, into the soothing sound of his lilting serenade—Raoul had once jokingly referred to it as their mating call. He realized the high school graduation party was just a dream, a shade of something from long ago. They were past that, they…

His eyes snapped open as his brain registered the reality—there was no
they
, and never would be again. Jamie was gone, long gone. The knowledge and pain seared his soul all over again, as if it were a fresh event, rather than a twenty-year-old memory. His entire body shuddered as he pushed back the pain, fought against things he didn’t want to feel. He’d turned off that part of himself twenty years ago. It was walled away where it could never be touched. That Raoul was dead. If he wanted to maintain his sanity, he had to keep him that way. So who or what was attempting to resurrect him now?

He took a deep breath and tried to make sense of his surroundings. He recognized his cabin, of course, but the question was how had he gotten inside? To the best of his knowledge, the wolf couldn’t open doors. He’d always meant to install a doggy door, but he’d never gotten around to it.

A breathy sigh and an unintelligible mumble came from behind him. Raoul slowly rolled over—no mean feat on the narrow cot— somehow managing not to dislodge the arm. A fully dressed
redhead lay there, mouth slightly open.

“Hey!” Raoul prodded his shoulder.

Startled blue eyes flew open and Raoul recognized him as the man from the night before. One of two, but the other’s features had faded into non-memory, while this one’s eyes still burned in his brain.

“Who are you and what the fuck are you doing here?”

*

Alexx’s jaw dropped as he looked into the most beautiful eyes ever. The same eyes that had bewitched him so the night before.

Then they were golden in hue, now they were gray. Raoul Marchand! The man was even more beautiful up close like this.

But…but…what was he doing here? What sly twist of fate had brought them into such intimate proximity? He must be dreaming, and if so, he didn’t wish to awaken. But the warmth of Raoul’s breath against his lips quickly dispelled that notion. His mind did a quick leap. If this was Raoul, then that must mean the wolf last night, the one he held onto all night long, was…

Holy shit! Of all the werewolves that must’ve been running around Crescent Bay last night, he managed to chance upon the one and only Raoul Marchand. What were the odds?

What did he say? Oh yeah, Raoul asked him a question. A bewitched Alexx worked at focusing on what the man was saying.

“My name’s Alexx Jameson, Raoul. We met last night. At Charisma. Remember?” He’d meant to say Mr. Marchand, but Raoul’s name had rolled off of his tongue as though it had a right to.

Alexx had been staring so intently into Raoul’s gray eyes that
he didn’t immediately notice the other man’s state of au natural until his gaze began to wander down along his well-sculpted and very naked body, and his eyes grew big. He was magnificent.

Everything Alexx had imagined him to be, and more.

Embarrassed, he brought his wandering eyes under control, to be met by Raoul’s unflinching stare. He didn’t seem in the least embarrassed, and he made no move to cover himself.

“I’m not stupid, and I do remember last night. I repeat, what the fuck are you doing here, Alexx Jameson?”

“Well I… I mean, we…” He tried to gather his thoughts, but in his mind’s eye he kept seeing the wolf that stood between him and his assailant, fiercely standing his ground, even after being injured.

“That man…He knifed you. Are you all right?” His heart racing for no apparent reason, he ran his hand anxiously along Raoul’s chest, feeling for any trace of the knife wound the wolf had sustained. There was none. The skin was smooth, not even a pucker of a scar, although his own palm stung, and he winced.

Abrasions from the parking lot, and probably pine needles he’d fallen on in the woods. But it could’ve been so much worse.

Raoul’s eyebrows lifted.

“I wasn’t staring,” Alexx said defensively. “Well, not much.

But I felt blood last night. You were bleeding. I don’t see any now.

Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Of course I’m all right.” Raoul snorted, as if the question were a ridiculous one. “Werewolves heal quickly. It’s in our metabolism.”

Another piece of information to be stored for future reference, as well as another slant to use for his research. He obviously had a lot to learn about the supernatural world he lived in. “I’m glad.”

Alexx breathed a soft sigh of relief. “If it wasn’t for you…” His
voice thickened with emotion. “You saved me last night, I’m very grateful to you, and I don’t mean to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why’d you do it?” He hadn’t meant to be quite so blunt, but the words just slipped out. He stared into Raoul’s eyes, searching for answers. For a long moment they simply stared at one another.

Neither spoke.

Suddenly the spell was broken.

As Alexx watched, Raoul’s expression changed, becoming unreadable, as if he’d dropped a wall between himself and Alexx.

He rolled over and swung himself off the cot, gaining his feet in one lithe movement. Despite the great view this afforded him, Alexx felt bereft. His heart ached for no apparent reason. He clenched his throbbing hands tightly, despite the pain.

On impulse, he rose from the cot and stepped toward Raoul. He reached out for him, brushing his hand across his arm. It wasn’t a conscious decision. He was obeying the dictates of his body, rather than his mind.

Raoul shrank away from his touch, pivoting about to face Alexx. His eyes blazed with an almost feral light. His breathing sounded labored, for no reason that Alexx could make out, although at that moment it seemed to echo his own. They stared into one another’s eyes for a very long moment.

Alexx didn’t know if he should consider himself to be in danger or not. His logical mind told him the night of the full moon was over, that werewolves only changed when the moon was full.

It wasn’t a conscious decision or an act that could be controlled by will. His illogical mind wanted to see just how dangerous Raoul Marchand could be.

Without warning, Raoul brushed his fingertips along Alexx’s cheekbone. His nerve endings tingled at the contact. He swayed
toward him, his heart beating quickly. This man blew so hot and cold, he was utterly confusing—and completely desirable.

Raoul placed a hand on either side of Alexx’s face and drew him close, closer, closest, until their lips were mere micrometers apart. Alexx had never wanted anyone so badly in his entire life, and he knew he’d do anything to have him.

The first touch of their lips was as gentle and fleeting as the touch of a butterfly’s wings. The next just a little longer, a little firmer, the one after that just a little bit more. Until, at last, they crushed their lips together in a most passionate embrace. When they came up for air, Alexx staggered slightly, his head and body both reeling. He looked into Raoul’s eyes. For just a moment, he thought he saw something—something familiar, something wonderful. But then the moment was gone, and Raoul was suddenly on the other side of the cabin, his back to Alexx.

Alexx forced himself to take deep calming breaths.

“Don’t you have to work?” Raoul asked. “Or does Randolph not run a very tight ship?”

Shit…work. Alexx glanced at his watch. Yeah, he needed to get going.

“I presume you can find your way back to Charisma so you can pick up your car?”

Was he imagining things, or did Raoul’s voice shake? No, that wasn’t likely.

“Actually, I don’t have my car,” Alexx admitted. “I came with Miller. The guy I was with last night. Remember him?”

Raoul turned about with a scowl.

“I mean he brought me, I wasn’t with him,” Alexx hastily backtracked. “He works at the
Chronicle
too. I mean…” He was growing flustered. The way Raoul looked at him, someone could
get the wrong idea if they were so inclined. And by someone he meant himself. Even though he knew better, he was confused by Raoul’s attitude. “Well, I think he hooked up with some girl or something. I don’t really know. I just know that I lost him somewhere and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get home, and then…all that shit happened.” He hastily diverted his thoughts from the unpleasantness, adding, “And I don’t think I could find Charisma if I tried, to be perfectly honest.”