Chapter 10
CHRIS
Ileaned back on my stool, nursing the last inch of my beer while laughter rolled around us. The handlers had claimed a long table near the back, the kind that bore the scars of years of elbows and spilled drinks. For the first time since the show started, the tension had loosened its grip.
The culprit had been caught. People no longer had their guard up.
I was pleasantly buzzed, warmth humming under my skin, my thoughts floating just a fraction slower than usual. Alcohol didn’t affect shifters as easily as humans, so I wasn’t drunk.
I was feeling relaxed, an unfamiliar feeling after days of coiled alertness. When the group finally started breaking up, chairs scraping and goodnights exchanged, I slid off my stool and grabbed my jacket.
“Ready?” I asked him.
Jaime nodded. “Yeah.”
We stepped outside together, the night air cool against my flushed skin. The street was quieter now, most of the evening crowd already gone.
Streetlights cast soft halos on the pavement, and somewhere down the block, music drifted faintly from an open window. Jaime and I walked side by side, not touching but close enough that I was acutely aware of him.
The easy warmth from the bar followed us. I glanced at him.
Jaime’s expression was softer than I’d ever seen it. His shoulders were relaxed, his mouth curved into a small, unguarded smile like he hadn’t bothered to tuck it away yet.
His eyes caught the light, warm and dark and focused on nothing in particular. On impulse, I stopped walking.
“Hey,” I said.
He turned to me, brow lifting in quiet question. I didn’t give myself time to think. I reached for him, fingers curling into the front of his jacket, and pulled him in for a kiss.
Jaime made a quiet sound of surprise, his breath hitching as my mouth met his. The first contact was all heat and urgency, my buzzed courage surging into something bold and unfiltered.
His lips were warm and firm, tasting faintly of beer and something uniquely him. For a heartbeat, he froze. Then he kissed me back.
His hands came up, one gripping my jacket, the other sliding to my waist, anchoring me as he leaned in.
The world narrowed to the press of his mouth. The way he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, the soft exhale against my lips that sent a shiver straight down my spine.
Unlike my previous kiss, I kissed him like I meant it.
The tension between us, the unspoken pull, the way my wolf had paced and preened every time he was close, it all spilled into that moment.
His mouth was sure, answering my urgency with something just as intense but more controlled, like he knew exactly how far to go and wanted to see if I’d follow.
I pulled back just enough to breathe, my forehead resting against his.
“Come on,” I said, my voice rough and low. “Let’s continue this in the room.”
The words hovered between us, charged and unmistakable. Jaime’s breath brushed my cheek.
For a moment, I thought he might pull away or reassemble his walls. Feeling bold, I slid my hand from his waist to his lower back. I pressed my thumb to that spot, lightly but possessively.
“Okay,” he said.
Jaime looked a little dazed, but I didn’t miss the excitement in his eyes.
The walk back to the hotel felt shorter than before. My hand brushed his once, then stayed there, fingers threading together without either of us commenting on it. We didn’t talk much. It wasn’t necessary.
The hotel lobby was quiet, the late hour thinning the crowd. We moved through it with a shared awareness, every step humming with anticipation.
The elevator ride was short and silent, the space between us crackling. When the doors opened, I led the way down the hall, my heart thudding hard enough that I was sure he could hear it.
Inside the room, the lights were low. Pampi’s crate sat near the wall, her small form curled into a fluffy comma, completely out cold. I laughed softly despite myself.
“Are we going to wake her?” I asked.
Jaime glanced over, then shook his head, lips twitching.
“She sleeps like the dead. Trust me,” he said.
That was all the permission I needed. I shrugged out of my jacket, dropping it over a chair, then turned back to him. Seeing Jaime take off his clothes, I took off the rest of mine.
I devoured the gorgeous sight of him. The space between us vanished again, his hands warm at my sides, my fingers sliding up his arms.
This time, we started with a slow kiss, a deep one. I took my time, exploring the shape of his mouth. He responded with equal passion when I nudged closer, and I pressed in a little more insistently.
Eager to explore, I moved my hands from his waist to his back, then slid up to cradle the back of his neck. We resumed our kiss, and I thoroughly enjoyed the sweet taste of him.
We moved without really deciding to, stepping backward until the bed bumped against my knees. I laughed softly again. Jaime huffed a quiet sound that might have been a laugh too.
We tumbled onto the bed together, the mattress dipping under our combined weight. I braced myself over him, my heart racing, his hands still firm and grounding as ever.
For a moment, we just looked at each other.
His eyes were dark and intent, something tender threading through the heat. He reached up, brushing his thumb along my jaw, the touch reverent.
“You good?” I asked him.
“Yeah,” Jaime said. “More than good.”
That answer satisfied me. I spoiled him with more kisses, leaving a trail down his neck, his chest, and his flat belly. Lower I went, licking the tip of his member. Hearing his moan, the storm of need inside me grew.
I felt the world narrow to the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the way his presence seemed to slot perfectly against mine.
“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” I told him.
“Keep going,” he said.
I parted from him for a moment, grabbing lube and a condom from the pocket of my jeans. To be honest, I was anticipating the night would end like this, with the two of us finally giving in to our desires.
This moment felt right and perfect, and even my inner wolf agreed with me. I returned to Jaime, who had gotten on his hands and knees and positioned himself at the edge of the bed.
He groaned as I applied a generous amount of lube, relaxing him for my access. With that done, I put a condom on and positioned myself behind him.
Gripping his hips, I entered him slowly and carefully. I wasn’t exactly small, so I didn’t want to hurt him. Once I was balls-deep inside him, Jaime let out a breath.
“Faster, Chris,” he begged.
Those were the only words I needed to hear. I picked up the pace, settling on a rhythm that suited us both. In no time at all, I reduced us both to sweating and needy animals.
Each time I entered him, it felt like a part of my soul drifted out to touch his. I’d had my share of men, but none of them made me feel the way Jaime did. Like I was coming home.
Eventually, I shifted the angle of my thrusts. Jaime arched his back and let out a whimper. Realizing I’d found his sweet spot, I kept aiming for that special place.
My balls tightened against my body. I was about to reach my limit, but I knew Jaime was in a similar state. At my next push, Jaime came, screaming out my name.
Several pushes later, the room fell away from my line of sight, and I climaxed. Finally, I pulled out and slid next to him. We shifted, settling more comfortably, limbs tangling as the intensity softened into something warm and lingering.
Jaime rested his forehead against my shoulder, his breath evening out, his hand splayed over my chest like he belonged there. I stared at the ceiling. A stupid grin tugged at my mouth.
“You know,” I murmured, “this wasn’t exactly how I pictured undercover work.”
Jaime snorted softly. “You think?”
I laughed, quiet and content. Beside us, Pampi snored softly, utterly oblivious.
Morning crept in slow and lazy. I woke with the unfamiliar weight of contentment pressing pleasantly against my ribs. The sheets were warm. The bed smelled faintly like coffee, soap, and Jaime.
My wolf stretched languidly inside me, satisfied in a way that felt dangerous if I thought about it too hard. Jaime lay beside me, propped against the headboard, shoulders relaxed, dark hair still damp from where he’d showered earlier.
A tray sat between us, crowded with plates and mugs. There were eggs, toast, fruit, coffee, and something sweet I hadn’t ordered but wasn’t about to complain about.
“You know,” I said, reaching for my mug, “the buffet’s paid for.”
Jaime snorted softly. “I know.”
“And yet here we are. Hiding,” I added.
“I wouldn’t call it hiding,” he said, lifting his coffee. “Strategic avoidance.”
I grinned. “Fair.”
Pampi was curled in her crate near the window, belly up, paws twitching in what I hoped was a very good dream. Jaime had already taken care of her. He had fed her, watered her, and taken her out. Then Pampi promptly took a nap.
I watched Jaime butter toast, the quiet domesticity of it hitting me harder than it should have. There was no tension and no walls. It was just the two of us in a hotel room that suddenly felt personal.
I swallowed a bite of eggs and turned toward him.
“So,” I said, deliberately casual, “about last night—”
My phone rang. The sound was sharp and intrusive, slicing clean through the moment. I groaned, fumbling blindly across the bed until my fingers closed around it. The screen lit up. Cooper.
“Of course,” I muttered.
Jaime’s eyebrow lifted. “Who is it?”
I glanced at the screen again, then answered. “Cooper.”
“Chris,” Cooper said without preamble. “You and Jaime still at the hotel?”
“Yes,” I said, sitting up a little straighter. “We were planning to stay for the rest of the show, even if the culprit’s already caught.”
“Good,” Cooper said. “Because I don’t think this is over.”
That snapped me fully awake.
“We were wondering about it last night and started to think the same thing,” I admitted. “It all wrapped up too cleanly.”
A pause. Then, “I want you to head to the sheriff’s office. The suspect’s being held there. I’ve already spoken to the sheriff. He’s expecting you.”
My pulse picked up. “You want me to question him?” I asked.
“Yes,” Cooper said. “See what he says. Or doesn’t.”
“Understood,” I told him.
“Call me after,” Cooper added. “And Chris?”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Trust your instincts.”
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone slowly and looked up. Jaime was watching me, his expression alert, already piecing things together.
“Sheriff’s office,” he said. Not a question.
“Yeah,” I said.
“You’re going.”
I nodded. “Cooper has doubts too.”
Jaime leaned back against the pillows, considering. “I’ll stay here. Keep an eye on things. Pampi too.”
Relief washed through me, tempered by reluctance.
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “You’re better at this part.”
I hesitated, then blurted, “Shower first?”
The corner of his mouth curved. “I was hoping you’d ask.”
The shower was quick and warm, steam fogging the mirror, Jaime’s presence steady and close. When I dressed and grabbed my jacket, Jaime leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely.
“Be careful,” he said.
“I will.”
His gaze softened. “Come back safely.”
“I plan to,” I told him.
The drive to the sheriff’s office took less than ten minutes. My good mood faded with every mile, anticipation tightening into focus. The small brick building sat quiet at the edge of town, a flag stirring lazily out front.
The sheriff met me inside, a broad-shouldered man with tired eyes and a firm handshake.
“Chris,” he said. “Alpha Cooper filled me in.”
“Appreciate you letting me stop by.”
He nodded, then lowered his voice as he led me down the hall. “Name’s Jimmie Hodge. Local. Keeps to himself. Lives out past the old logging road.”
The door buzzed open.
“He’s human,” the sheriff added. “Bit of a loner. Doesn’t mix much with the town. Been spotted around the show more than he needed to be.”
That tracked. He stopped outside a cell and gestured me forward.
“He’s all yours,” the sheriff said.
Then he left. Jimmie Hodge sat on the bench inside the cell, his elbows braced on his knees. He was thin, red hair hanging messily into his eyes, freckles stark against pale skin. He looked up when I stepped closer.
He looked wary, and strangely familiar. My wolf stirred sharply. I’d seen him before. He’d been lurking near the obstacle course, watching everything.
“Jimmie,” I said calmly. “Mind if we talk?”
He scoffed. “Looks like I don’t have a choice,” Jimmie muttered.
I rested my hands loosely on my hips. “You’re in for tampering with multiple obstacles,” I told him.
“The police made a mistake. I just was watching the show,” he shot back. “That’s not a crime.”
“No,” I agreed. “But tampering with equipment is.”
Silence stretched.
“Why the dogs?” I asked. “Why risk hurting them?”
His jaw tightened. “I didn’t hurt any dogs,” he pointed out.
“But you could have.”
He didn’t answer.
“Were you working alone?” I pressed.
His eyes flicked away for just a fraction of a second. There it was.
“Who else is involved?” I asked quietly.
He leaned back, crossing his arms. “I want a lawyer.”
I studied him for a long moment, letting the silence do the work. My wolf paced, uneasy.
Finally, I straightened. “We’re not done, Jimmie.”
He smirked. “You don’t have anything on me.”
Not yet, my wolf answered silently. I turned and walked out, my certainty settling cold and firm in my gut. Jimmie was lying, and he wasn’t alone.