Chapter Seven
“What are you?” Preston scrambled for his clothes, trying desperately to rationalize the long canines protruding from Zeppelin’s mouth. Why in the hell did Preston keep ending up with whack jobs? Was he cursed? Did he have “SUCKER” stamped across his forehead that only psychos could see?
“I’m a wolf shifter, Preston.” Zeppelin moved toward him, and Preston swiped his jeans at him like denim had the ability to slay monsters.
“Back off!”
Zeppelin raised his hands, palms out. “I’m not going to hurt you, sunshine. I promise.”
Preston’s brain was melting. It had to be. He’d spent too much time in the sun today and fried it like an egg in a cast-iron skillet.
Slowly, Preston eased off the side of the bed, backing slowly toward the door, his clothes bunched in his arms.
“You feel it.” Zeppelin slid off the bed then adjusted his pants. “Our connection. You can’t explain why you trust me, especially since we just met.” He placed his palm over his heart. “Or why you’re so drawn to me.”
Preston tried to slip on his pants, but one of the legs was twisted, making him hop around. “That’s because you put some kind of voodoo on me.”
Why wouldn’t his damn pants cooperate! Preston took a deep breath, leaned against the door jam, then straightened out the leg. The whole time he kept Zeppelin in his sights.
Preston wasn’t going to deny those claims. But he also wasn’t going to acknowledge them out loud.
Even now, all he wanted to do was run to Zeppelin instead of running away from him like any sane person would do.
His chest ached to be held in Zeppelin’s arms.
“No voodoo.” He shook his head, hands still raised. “Fate, sweetheart. I knew at the bar you were mine.” He tapped his nose. “Your scent has been driving me crazy.” The he tapped his sternum. “I can feel the pull toward you right here.”
The same spot where Preston ached. He’d also felt that connection at the bar. When he’d been in the alley falling apart. As soon as Zeppelin stepped outside, Preston had no longer felt so alone.
“I-I don’t understand, Zeppelin. What’s going on?” Preston was already dealing with so much. It was as if the cosmos had a grudge against him.
First Antonio, now Zeppelin?
Only, Preston had never felt this way, this deep ache, with Antonio. Maybe some part of him had known the guy wasn’t right and just chose to ignore it because he’d been so lonely.
But it honestly felt different with Zeppelin. Preston genuinely liked him.
Enough to give him a blowjob.
This was huge, considering Zeppelin was only the second guy Preston had been intimate with.
If he’d known how crazy Antonio was, Preston would’ve stayed a virgin. Just his luck he gave it up to a psychopath.
Why was he even thinking about that right now? There was a hot guy standing in front of him who wasn’t even human.
Zeppelin gestured toward the bed. “I promise not to touch you, sunshine. I just want to talk.”
Preston inched closer, then slowly eased onto the very edge of the bed, ready to bolt if Zeppelin made one wrong move.
Gave one wrong twitch.
Zeppelin sat at the foot, forearms resting against his knees, looking as if he carried the weight of the world on those powerful shoulders.
Preston couldn’t stop trembling, unsure if it was from fear or the overwhelming need to scoot even closer. “Okay. I’m s-sitting. Now what?”
“It’s killing me that you’re shaking and I can’t hold you.” Zeppelin glanced at him, and Preston could’ve sworn he saw a hint of anguish in those honey-brown eyes. “That my own mate won’t let me bring him comfort.”
As badly as Preston wanted to go to him, not yet. “I’m still not fully understanding what’s going on.” He slipped his shirt over his head, the cotton fabric soft against his skin. “And what did you just call me?”
Zeppelin lounged sideways on the bed, propping himself up on one elbow.
Preston just stared at him, at the gorgeous man so relaxed in his bed.
He looked so easy in his skin, like nothing could touch him.
What scared Preston was how badly he wanted to crawl over to the guy and burrow under him.
Zeppelin just proved he wasn’t human, and it seemed Preston’s traitorous body couldn’t have cared less.
“I called you my mate. Fate thought we would make the perfect pair, so he weaved our destinies together.”
“So… you’re saying that fate, if you believe in such a thing… is a matchmaker?” Preston frowned. “Now I think we both fried our brains in the sun today.”
“Not really a matchmaker. More like it thought you would need me as much as I would need you,” Zeppelin replied. The sound of his voice was like a low rumble of thunder, stealing Preston’s breath and making his heart race.
“But I don’t even know you.” Preston was grasping at anything that would help him make sense of this. Fate? Weaved destinies? That sounded more plausible than some deity setting up blind dates you were stuck with for the rest of your life. Oh, wait. That was exactly what it was doing.
Preston glanced at the deliciousness taking up two-thirds of his bed, a dark indulgence who’d just given him the best day of his life.
Not the blowjob, which had been absolutely phenomenal, but a sense of normalcy.
A few hours at the market where, every time Zeppelin’s gaze had met his, it had felt like gravity shifting, pulling him toward something worth keeping forever.
“Then get to know me like I want to get to know you, sunshine.” He slid his hand across the bed and gently tapped Preston’s with one finger. “That’s how destinies begin, right?”
Swallowing roughly, Preston hooked his finger around Zeppelin’s, needing an anchor as he tried to figure this out.
“And if one day you turn out to be a lunatic? If our destinies are woven together, I’m screwed.”
Preston couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation, but logic had flown out the window the moment those canines appeared.
Still, it didn’t sound like he would have any kind of safety net if Zeppelin started acting like Antonio. The thought terrified him.
“You tell my pack I’m acting like an asshole, and I’d be lucky to survive the beatdown they would give me.”
Preston’s brows shot up. “Pack?”
It should’ve dawned on him since Zeppelin was their leader. Holy crap. All those bikers were wolf shifters? That explained the high testosterone level Preston had felt last night at the bar.
“Yes, pack.” Zeppelin brushed the pad of his index finger back and forth, as if he had to touch Preston, to stay physically connected to him in some way.
And honestly, it was soothing to him as well.
“It’s…” Preston nibbled on his lower lip. “It’s a lot to digest, Zeppelin.”
His brows shot up when Zeppelin gave a low, throaty growl.
“Say my name again, beautiful.”
Licking his lips, Preston smirked. “Bro.”
Zeppelin threw his head back and laughed. Yep. Preston was a goner. That rich, deep sound was like whisky over velvet and Preston’s new addiction.
But a thought sobered him. “What if you get bored with me and decide to pick some fruit elsewhere?”
A reason his parents were no longer together. Despite being upset about his mom dismissing Antonio’s toxic behavior, she really was an amazing woman.
How could his dad ever think about cheating on her? Men confused the shit out of him sometimes.
“Why would I want someone else’s fruit when I have the most delicious peach sitting next to me?”
Zeppelin actually sounded baffled. His thick brows were furrowed, looking at Preston like he was the crazy one.
“You’re my mate, Preston. My wolf doesn’t want anyone else. You’re the only one for me.”
Preston ran his hands down his thighs, blowing out a series of short bursts, feeling like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.
“Preston?” Zeppelin sat a up and moved closer, but Preston shot off the bed.
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, sunshine.” Zeppelin held his hands close to Preston’s upper arms but didn’t touch him.
“That’s what he said to m-me a-all the time.” But Antonio never said it in adoration. It was ownership. A loosely veiled threat disguised as love.
Oh god. Preston was going to be sick. His mouth filled with that warm, metallic taste. He shot across the hall and dropped to his knees, retching his guts out. But all he’d eaten today was mostly fruit, so he had nothing to give, which made his gut hurt even worse.
A cool washcloth was laid across the back of his neck. Zeppelin crouched next to him, brushing aside strands of Preston’s hair.
“That’s your trauma manifesting, sweetheart.
” He sat on the floor then pulled Preston into his lap, gently urging Preston to rest his head on his shoulder.
“You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.
You’re now a part of our pack, and every last one of us wouldn’t hesitate to keep you safe.
You tell me who needs their headstone carved and it’s done. ”
Preston pushed away from Zeppelin, staring wide-eyed at him. “You just told me I have a pack of assassins at my disposal. You can’t give a guy that kind of power. I’ll have the mailman whacked for bringing me bills. Loud neighbors? Not anymore.”
Of course he wasn’t serious, but Zeppelin was. Holy. Shit.
“You’re mated to the pack alpha.” Zeppelin shrugged. “Though I wouldn’t advise siccing them on your neighbors just because they’re noisy.”
Preston smirked. “Why not?”
“Babe, we’re wolves. Not humans. Ninety percent… No, scratch that. All of them would get too much pleasure out of it.”
“I don’t know whether to feel impressed or terrified,” Preston admitted. “We’re just gonna forget this conversation ever took place.”
Zeppelin gently cupped Preston’s throat. “Tell me who he is and if he’s a current or former threat.”
When Preston stood, Zeppelin didn’t stop him. “Wait right here.” He wrinkled his nose. “On second thought, let’s stop sitting on the bathroom floor.”
Zeppelin followed him to his bedroom and sat back down on the bed as Preston retrieved his phone. He unlocked it and tapped on Antonio’s text thread.
“You can read them while I go brush my teeth.”
Preston was done carrying this burden by himself. Zeppelin was offering and Preston was accepting the help because he had no clue how to stop Antonio on his own.
All Preston wanted was to stop running, to set down roots somewhere, and to finally be able to breathe without constantly looking over his shoulder.
And Crimson Hollow seemed like the perfect place to start over, especially with Zeppelin.
His mate.