Chapter Five
Twenty minutes later, Patrick, with his cock now under control, hovered in the kitchen, wiping an already clean surface and folding and refolding a blue cloth.
Greg was busy cleaning out the hearth and setting fresh kindling and logs in the grate.
Eventually, Carlos appeared, a trail of steam following him from the bathroom. He had a white towel wrapped around his waist and his hair was scraped back, as though finger-combed.
“Hey.” Greg stood and swiped his palms together, little flecks of dust floating in the air. “Feel better?”
“Yeah, much.” Carlos set the clothes Patrick had given him onto the table.
“Wondered if you wanted to shift, go for a roam around the territory. Though if you’re sore, if you need to rest up and—”
“I’d love to.” Carlos smiled. “Thanks.”
Greg nodded at the string of bruises on Carlos’ torso. “You’re healing quick.”
“Being a shifter has many advantages, eh.”
“It does.” Greg glanced at Patrick. “We won’t be long, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Take your time.” Patrick shrugged and reached for a mug. He’d drink coffee while they were gone.
Greg walked over to him, and slipped his arm around Patrick’s waist from behind. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.” He rested his palm on Greg’s forearm. “If you’re okay, then everything is right in my world.”
“I love you.” Greg kissed his temple—a gentle, lingering press of his lips.
“I love you, too.” Patrick sighed. “Now, go and show our new friend around.”
“Our new friend,” Greg repeated quietly. “Okay. But I’ll miss you while I’m gone.”
Patrick smiled and stepped away to reach for the coffee. After he’d poured he turned and watched Greg shift into his dog form. It always fascinated him the way Greg hunched forward, his nose extended to become a muzzle, his skin appeared fuzzy for a moment then emerged as dark fur. He’d never get bored of watching it, even though the first time he’d seen it he’d freaked out.
“How’s he do that?” Carlos asked, shaking his head.
“What?”
“He was in jeans, where are they now?”
“Ah, that…” Patrick curled his hand around his mug. “Ancient magic, apparently—the Redwood Shifters have the ability to choose one outfit, or item of clothing, that shifts with them.”
“That’s brilliant.”
“It saves a few blushes, which I believe is why the elders of years ago came up with it.”
“I’d give my soul to be able to do that.” He laughed. “Well, maybe not my soul, but you know what I mean.”
Patrick smiled.
Carlos unhooked his towel. For a moment, he hesitated and looked between Greg and Patrick, then he tossed it to the side, revealing himself.
Once again, Patrick’s attention was drawn to Carlos’ flame-colored pubic hair. His cock was long and slim and hung flaccid and his abdominal muscles were well-defined.
But Patrick didn’t have chance to admire Carlos for long, because like Greg, he hunched forward, his limbs became long, lean dog legs with paws and his face changed to that of a dog. His ribs, like in his human form, were visible, and his belly indented. His tail was rod-straight. His fur was rusty red.
Greg turned and went to the door, glancing at Patrick.
“I don’t know why you never open the door before you shift,” Patrick said, stroking the top of his head as he walked through it. “It would make more sense.”
Carlos followed and Patrick reached out and touched his back, running his fingers over his fur. It was thin and wiry, unlike Greg’s thick, dense coat. The two men couldn’t be more different, and neither could the two dogs.
Greg broke into a trot and Carlos followed, his nose to the ground as if scenting his route.
In the distance, through the trees, the sky was heavy with leaden clouds. A storm was on the way. The breeze rustled through the branches and caught the long grass in front of the cabin. Every month or so they’d get a good storm which turned day to night and blasted out thunder loud enough to rattle the cupboard doors in the kitchen.
Patrick left the door ajar then returned to his coffee and book. He hoped Greg wouldn’t keep Carlos out too long—the man might be a quick-healing shifter, but still, he’d been left for dead the day before.
He sat by the unlit fire reading for the best part of an hour before raindrops began pelting the windowpane. Like tiny bullets, they clattered off it as if doing their best to break through.
“Goddamn,” Patrick muttered. It wouldn’t do Carlos good to get soaked through. Some kind of cold on top of his injuries was the last thing he needed.
But as he stood, the door was pushed open and the two dogs padded in. Each was sparkling with rain.
Greg looked at Patrick.
“Don’t you dare.” Patrick wagged his finger at Greg.
But despite the warning, Greg shook anyway. With his eyes closed he rotated his entire body, spraying water from his coat to the window, the table and the floor.
Patrick tutted. Every time it rained this happened and it was always him who ended up mopping the place.
Greg then went onto his back legs and returned to his human body. His jeans were wet and his hair stuck to his head. “Sorry.”
“You know it drives me crazy.”
“I can’t help it, it’s instinct.” He walked up to the door and shut it. “It’s coming down some out there.” He looked at Carlos. “You shifting?”
Carlos glanced at the towel he’d abandoned earlier, then elongated his body and became human again. Instantly, he reached for his towel and wrapped it around his waist.
“Wouldn’t have thought you were the shy sort,” Greg said with a chuckle.
“I ain’t…well, unless I’m the only naked person.” He nodded to the room he’d slept in the night before and picked up the clothes he’d left on the table. “I’m gonna lie down for a bit. That okay?”
“Yeah, course,” Greg said.
When Carlos had gone, Greg sat on the sofa next to Patrick. A trickle of rain ran from his temple to his cheek.
“Trip out go okay?” Patrick asked.
Something wasn’t right, he was sure of it. Normally, Greg would get a towel, a coffee, be more relaxed after a territory roam.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?” Patrick scowled.
“There’s something between Carlos and me.
“Carlos and you?” A tightening in Patrick’s belly shot a bite of bile into his gullet. He reached out and wiped at the drip making its way to the angle of Greg’s jawline.
“We can…goddamn, I don’t know how to say it.” He rubbed his fingertips over his forehead.
“So just say it.” Patrick swallowed, his mouth was dry.
“We can communicate telepathically, and really easily too, effortless.”
“Can’t all dog shifters do that?”
“Many can, but for it to be so easy, so in tune, then the dogs have to be natural mates.”
“Mates? But you said I was your mate, that you knew within minutes of meeting me.” Patrick struggled to keep the shake from his voice.
What the hell is happening?
“You are.” Greg reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. “Really and truly you are. The love of my life, I promise you.” He paused. “But…”
“I don’t like the but.”
“But.” Greg raised his eyebrows and cupped Patrick’s cheek. “Carlos is special, too, don’t you agree?”
He stared so hard at Patrick, his eyes boring so deep, to the core of his being, that Patrick couldn’t maintain the contact. He glanced away, thinking of the reaction his body was having to Carlos and the way he’d invaded his thoughts. Was that alone enough to be unfaithful?
“You feel it, too, don’t you?” Greg asked, his voice quiet.
“I…please…”
“No, be honest with me. He’s got to you, hasn’t he?”
“I guess.” Patrick raised his gaze. “He’s magical, isn’t he? Mesmerizing, handsome...he has that special something.”
Greg’s lips twitched, as if a smile was trying to break free. “Yes, he has.”
“But I haven’t, I wouldn’t…nothing, ever.”
“Shh.” Greg placed his index finger over Patrick’s lips to silence him. “You and I are a strong couple, in love, nothing will ever change that. And I know you’d never cheat on me, the way I never would you.”
Patrick nodded.
“But many of the other shifters and humans on camp are threesomes. It’s clearly something that works for our kind.”
“For us, too?” Patrick’s lips moved against Greg’s finger.
Greg ran his hand over Patrick’s head and cupped his nape. “I’m not saying it’s going to happen. Carlos might plan to be on his way in a few days’ time. But I wanted to test the water with you, see if you were feeling the same way as I am. We always share everything, all our thoughts and feelings, why should this be any different?”
Patrick nodded. It was true—they did share everything. There was only one thing for it and that was to speak the truth now. “Yes, I do have strong feelings for Carlos already.”
“Good, in that case, we’ll just see how things pan out. No pressure, it’s all cool.” He leaned forward and kissed him, a lovely long press of lips and stroke of tongues.
Patrick moaned and gripped Greg’s solid shoulders. He kissed him back and hoped Greg could sense how much he loved him, how much he needed him. Whatever else happened in the world, whoever came and went, they would always be there for each other. Nothing would change that.
“I, er…sorry…didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Carlos’ voice filling the room caused them to break apart. Patrick wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
“I just wanted a glass of water.” Carlos indicated the kitchen.
“Don’t mind us, go ahead.” Greg kept tight hold of Patrick. “Just showing my man how much I love him.”
“Love is a precious gift.” Carlos smiled and walked to the kitchen. He had on the pair of black boxers and nothing else. As he turned on the tap a huge crack of thunder blasted through the place. He dropped the cup into the sink with a clatter.
“Fuck!” Patrick said on a giggle.
“Fuck, indeed,” Greg whispered, and ran his hand down Patrick’s chest to his groin. He cupped his cock and squeezed.
“Greg...”
“Shh.” Greg winked. “It’s all good.”
The room lit with a brilliant white flash followed by yet another roar of thunder.
Carlos yelped, a sharp, frightened sound, and turned a fast circle, looking up at the ceiling as if expecting it to come down.
Greg released Patrick and turned to Carlos. “You okay?”
“Never liked storms.” He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself.
“Come and sit here.” Greg stood and indicated the sofa. “I’ll light the fire to give you something else to think about.”
“Okay .”
“Yeah, it will make it cozy,” Patrick said, running his hand over the cushion that held Greg’s body warmth. He moved it as Carlos sat and the sofa dipped.
Greg reached for the matches and prepared to light the fire.
A flush of heat traveled over Patrick as he admired Greg’s ass.
Damn, he was a lucky guy to have such a hot mate.
His cock was at a semi and his balls were tight. He imagined he could feel Greg’s touch lingering there. Pulling in a deep breath, he turned to Carlos. Mate. Were Greg and Carlos really mates?
Had destiny carved out a path for them that included a third the way it had for Aleco and Raul’s families?
Carlos had knotted his fingers in his lap. He was paler than usual. He clearly was genuinely scared by the storm. He began to tap his foot, his knee jerking.
Patrick reached out and set his hand on Carlos’s thigh to still the jigging. “It’s okay. Nothing will happen, just loud noise and flashes.”
Carlos nodded, two sharp twitches of his head. “I know.”
Patrick squeezed his leg, enjoying the heat of his flesh on his palm. “Relax.”
“I will when it passes and—” His words were cut short by another blinding streak of lightning that filled the room for a solid three seconds. Accompanying it was a deafening roll of thunder that sounded like drums being beaten.
Carlos yelped again and scooted closer to Patrick.
Patrick wrapped his arms around him and held him close. “Shh. It’s okay.”
Greg stopped what he was doing and glanced at Patrick. He raised his eyebrows a little. Seeing Patrick holding Carlos was obviously something to make him pause.
In a good way?
Carlos slid his arms around Patrick and ducked his head.
His hair tickled Patrick’s chin and he ran his hand over it, smoothing it in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. It was silky and smelled of their shampoo.
“I know it’s irrational,” Carlos said as a tremble went up his spine. “But I got caught in a storm once, in my dog form. A tree was struck right next to me and came down. Scared me half to death. Never liked them since that day.”
“We all have things that get to us.”
Greg turned back to fire and lit the base. Flames licked upward, the wind outside making the chimney draw with extra vigor.
Patrick held Carlos tight as another clap of thunder and streak of lightning shook the cabin. He was enjoying the storm—it meant he was able to hold the man he and Greg had feelings for.
But did Carlos feel the same?
It was impossible to know.
With the fire lit, Greg stood. He placed his hands on his hips and studied Patrick and Carlos.
“You okay, Carlos?” Patrick whispered, his breath breezing over Carlos’ hair.
He nodded and lifted his head so he was facing Patrick. “Yeah, thank you.”
“It will pass soon,” Greg said, his voice low and gruff.
Carlos didn’t break eye contact with Patrick.
Patrick’s heart rate sped up, a tug of hope and desire pulled at his belly. The deep green of Carlos’ irises was flecked with bronze and lit with something else...desire?
Oh God .
His cock was getting harder still.
He brushed his knuckles down Carlos’ cheek, over the freckles and a slight rise of stubble. Holding his breath, unsure of what he was going to happen next, he cupped Carlos’ chin and held his face.
His heart was beating so fast he was sure the sound of it could be heard over the pelting rain and snapping fire. All he could concentrate on was the beautiful shape of Carlos’ lips, the pretty indent at the top, the plumpness of the lower one.
“Do it,” Greg said, his voice practically a growl. “Show him what you want, Patrick.”