Chapter Six
Patrick didn’t need telling twice. The thick, sultry way his mate had spoken gave him the courage to act.
He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss over Carlos’ mouth.
Carlos snapped in a breath and tensed. Patrick closed his eyes and slicked his tongue between Carlos’ lips, seeking out the hot warmth. With his other arm, he pulled Carlos closer so their chests were pressed together.
“Ah, yeah, that’s hot,” Greg said. “You both are hot.”
Carlos opened up and let Patrick in. He kissed him back with equal passion.
Patrick groaned and sought out Carlos’ groin. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and took hold of the damn fine erection he found there.
“Jeez, yeah. That’s it, Patrick, don’t restrain yourself.” Greg pressed his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “Make him come, make him feel better about everything.”
Patrick was already working Carlos, running his fist root to tip. His own cock was full- blown hard now and needed attention. He had no idea how this whole thing would go, never having been in a threesome before, but he trusted Greg to make it work if he stumbled.
He trailed kisses over Carlos’ cheek to his jawline. Perhaps he should sink to his knees and suck him off. That would make him forget about the storm.
In an instant, everything changed. Carlos pulled back, then stood and stepped away. “Fucking hell.” His attention went from Greg to Patrick then to Greg. “What is this? What are you doing?”
Greg frowned and held out his palms. “Patrick was only doing what we thought you wanted. What we want, too?”
“No. It’s crazy.” He shook his head. “You don’t want me.”
“Why not?” Patrick stood and slipped his hand into Greg’s.
“Because you…” Carlos frowned and gestured to them both. “Because you’re a couple. You’re solid, in love. Why the fuck would you mess with that?”
“To make it better?” Greg said. “The heart has an endless capacity to love.”
“You don’t love me.”
“Don’t I?” Greg said, stepping forward and taking Patrick with him.
Patrick could still taste Carlos on his lips and his belly was tight with the lusty thoughts he’d been having moments ago.
Carlos stepped farther toward the door. A bellow of thunder rattled the windowpane and wind gushed down the chimney. He shivered and glanced at the roof. “No, you don’t.”
“But we can communicate as dogs—you know as well as I do, Carlos, that’s a special ability and predominantly only mates can do it.”
“I’m not your mate. Patrick is.” He nodded at Patrick.
“What if both of you are?” Greg tilted his chin. “It could be what fate has planned for us.”
“No.” He shook his head fast. “It’s not and I won’t break up your happy home.”
“Why do you think you’d be breaking it up?” Patrick asked, scowling. He was so confused. The heat and longing between him and Carlos had been like another living, breathing thing only seconds ago. How could it have effected Carlos so acutely when all Patrick wanted to do was get down to some serious fucking?
“Because I’m a loner, I’ve never had a mate, that’s my destiny. Plus, I mess things up, create chaos out of harmony. Just look at the mess I’m in now because I came here. I’m packless.”
“No, you’re not.” Greg tutted. “You’re here with the Redwood Shifters and that makes you part of our pack.”
“Until I mess up and you don’t want me anymore.”
“That won’t happen.” Patrick stepped toward Carlos. All he wanted to do was hold him again, soothe him, take the look of pain from his face.
But Carlos tensed further and stepped up to the door. He flung it open, allowing the wind to crash in, bringing with it leaves and rain. Then he shifted in an instant. Not pausing in his dog body, he bounded out into the storm.
“No.” Patrick rushed to the door.
Greg was close behind him but stopped him from racing after Carlos. “No, he needs to be alone.”
“But in this weather!” Patrick was frantic. “He hates storms, didn’t you see how scared he was?”
“Yeah, which must mean his need to be alone is very powerful—more powerful than fear. We must let him have his space.”
“No.” Patrick clung to Greg. “Don’t you see we need to go to him? Explain he won’t be in the way or breaking us up. He’ll be part of us, as an equal if we decided to be a threesome…” He paused. “If that’s what you still want.”
Greg shut the door and the cabin quieted again. He placed his hands on Patrick’s shoulders and lowered his head. “Have you any idea how amazing it was to see you two kissing? To see you both caught up in the moment and giving into it. I went from soft to fully hard in five seconds straight.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “I can only imagine how amazing it would be to see you fucking, sucking, rutting each other.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.” He swept his lips over Patrick’s. “And then I’d join in, fuck you while I sucked him off, or put my dick in his mouth as you fucked him. Would you like that, babe?”
“Yeah.” Oh, the images, the possibilities. It was enough to get Patrick’s asshole clenching and unclenching.
“The trouble is we need him here, and assured of our seriousness about the situation. Until then, we can’t connect emotionally or physically.”
“I agree. He needs to know he’s not a passing phase, this is it.”
Greg pulled his eyebrows low.
“You really think so?” So much had happened and it was all so fast.
“Yeah, I do.” He ran his hands up the column of Patrick’s neck and held his face. “But only if you do.”
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation and that told Patrick what he needed to know about himself. He wanted Carlos to be their mate in the long term—not just for a romp between the sheets, but as their mate, friend, life-partner.
And the sooner Carlos realized the situation and accepted it, the better.
He leaned in and kissed Greg, then settled closer for a hug. “What are we going to do? Maybe I should go find him.”
“Absolutely not,” Greg said. “You’re staying here in the warm and dry.” He paused. “And so am I.”
“But—?”
“He can shelter in Davey’s cabin if he wants. Davey’s not there, he’s off with his cat somewhere.”
“Carlos won’t know that.”
“Yeah, he will, I told him earlier. He scented lion and was confused so I filled him in on our latest feline member of the pack.”
“Do you think he will, shelter there, that is?”
“Hopefully.” He rubbed his hand up then down Patrick’s back. “If not, there are enough log stores about.”
“I hate to think of him out there.” Patrick shivered as the rain hammered against the door with extra gusto. “When he’s already sick.”
“He’s a survivor. He’ll be okay.” Greg hugged him closer.
“I hope so.” Patrick looked up at him. “Because what will we do if he isn’t?”
A flash of pain seared over Greg’s eyes. It was clear he couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to Carlos—it would break his heart, the same way it would break Patrick’s.
“Come on,” Greg said. “Let’s go to bed.”
“No.” Patrick looked at the fire roaring in the hearth then at the door. “I’d rather stay here, in case he comes back, so we know straight away and can talk to him.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Greg nodded then led Patrick to the sofa.
They sat, Patrick with his legs over Greg’s and huddled against him. He kept his attention on the entrance to the cabin, but enjoyed the heat of his mate and the fire. The other side of the sofa seemed empty now without Carlos. His presence, though brief, had had such a massive impact on them.
He sighed and snuggled closer. Greg kissed his temple then rested his head and closed his eyes.
They didn’t need words to know the other was hurting, but they would always be there for each other. It was how it had been for so long. They were a tight unit, a team, yet now they were prepared to open up for the right person.
Carlos.
If only he’d let them convince him of their seriousness.
The storm began to fade, the length of time between lightning and thunder stretching. The rain’s intensity weakened and the wind stopped howling down the chimney.
Patrick’s eyes grew heavy. Emotional interactions always made him tired. And right now he couldn’t remember ever feeling so emotional. Well, perhaps when he’d met Greg at the workshop he used to earn a living in. One day, he’d been an average Joe, tinkering around with cars all day, doing a job he loved even though it didn’t pay well, then the next, a drop-dead gorgeous guy the size of a house had been telling him they were mates. Patrick had been caught up in the whirlwind of Greg’s seduction of him and life had never been the same again.
Add in the fact that within weeks he’d found himself living in the Redwood Forest with a pack of paranormal creatures and he knew he was no longer average in any department. Phew, and that was before the sex. He’d had a few casual relationships in the past, but nothing had blown his mind, or his cock, the way Greg did. He had been a confident lover even back then, satisfaction his only goal. Sure, he was big and strong and took what he wanted, but he’d never pushed Patrick too far.
Patrick sighed and thought of the sex they’d enjoyed the evening before.
“I thought you were sleeping?” Greg whispered.
“No, just thinking.”
“What about?”
“You and me. How we’re so good together, you know, when we fuck.”
“Yeah, we are.” Greg chuckled. “Always have been and always will be.”
“What is it?” Patrick looked up at his mate. “That makes it so good?”
Greg appeared a little surprised by the question. “We love each other, I guess.”
“Well, yes there is that, but we just click, mentally, when we fuck. It seems instinctive.”
“I know you so well it does feel instinctive.” Greg ran his hand down Patrick’s chest and rested it on his belly. “I know what makes you hard, what makes you come real quick when I want you to, or how to keep you on the edge of orgasm.”
“And what do I know about you?”
Greg smiled. “You know calling me Sir makes me want to bend you over and pound into your sweet butt.”
“Yes, there is that.” Patrick smiled. “And if we do convince Carlos to join us—and right now that feels like a big if—will that change?”
“Of course it will, but only for the better.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because mates are the best lovers, nature intended it that way to make the connection even deeper.”
Patrick looked away.
“What is it, babe?” Greg turned Patrick’s face back to his.
Patrick swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “But what if you’re mates, you and him, but I’m not, you know, me and him.”
“I don’t even know how you can ask that?” Greg shook his head.
“What do you mean?”
“After the way you kissed earlier, damn it, there was electric in the air, and it wasn’t from the storm. Your connection is palpable, the way you look at each other, speak to each other. The way your eyes light up when you talk about him, and…”
“And?” Patrick tipped his head.
“And the thoughts he was having about you, when we were out roaming and I could delve into his mind.” He paused. “Let’s just say, I know that man wants to get naked with you. You’ve been filling his fantasies.”
A delicious tremble went over Patrick and a lovely, warm feeling settled in his belly. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. Don’t worry, he’ll come around. I’m sure of it.”
“I hope so.” As Patrick spoke, the cabin door opened.
Aleco stood there. His chest, as usual, was bare and his gray beard and faded jeans were peppered with rain. “Can I come in?” he said, stepping inside.
“Sure.” Patrick stood. So did Greg.
“Julie sent this.” Aleco held out a pie. “It’s apple, she said it would be good for your wounded shifter.” He glanced about.
“Please tell Julie thank you.” Patrick took the apple pie. It smelled buttery and fruity and the base was still warm. Brown sugar glistened on the top.
“Is he resting?” Aleco asked.
“No.” Greg stepped up to the table and pressed his hands flat onto it so he was half stooped over. He studied Aleco in a sideways glance. “He went out in the storm.”
“And you let him?” Aleco raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised at you, Greg. That won’t be good for his health.”
“He’s healing remarkably fast.” Greg frowned and his tone was sharp.
Patrick knew it would be hurting him to have garnered his Alpha’s criticism.
“It got complicated.” Greg balled his hands into fists and shook his head. He stared at the surface of the table.
“So explain.” Aleco folded his arms and glanced at Patrick.
Patrick cleared his throat and set the pie on the worktop. He’d let Greg do the talking.
“It just did,” Greg said.
Aleco was silent.
“Between us all,” Greg added.
Patrick reached for a kitchen towel and wrung it in his hands, twisting and releasing it.
“What do you mean between you all?” Aleco asked.
Greg straightened and turned to Aleco.
Patrick couldn’t keep quiet any more. “We like him. A lot. We really do. Carlos, that is.”
“Ahh…” Aleco swung his attention back to Greg. “You want a third, can’t say I blame you. It’s a wonderful way to live, but…”
“But what?” Greg gritted his teeth. A muscle in his jaw flexed. His patience with the whole situation was clearly running out, and now with Aleco rolling out his authority it could tip him over the edge.
“But he’s from Titan’s pack.” Aleco bit on his bottom lip and studied Greg, as if assessing how his words had been taken.
“He hates Titan.” Patrick balled the towel in his fist. “He really does.”
“I explained all this to you,” Greg said to Aleco.
“I know.” Aleco nodded. “Back then, he was staying for a few days to recover then heading on his way. Circumstances are different now if you want him to be a permanent addition.”
“We want that, but he’s not so sure,” Greg muttered.
“He doesn’t know if he’s mated with you?” Aleco appeared confused.
“It’s not that.” Greg’s frown deepened.
“So, what is it?”
“He doesn’t know if he wants to be in a threesome relationship with us,” Patrick said. “He’s worried about rocking the boat, upsetting our happy existence.”
“Except we’re not happy without him now.” Greg puffed out his chest and placed his hands on his hips. “And that’s the way it is.”
Patrick couldn’t help but admire his mate. Sure, Aleco was a big, good-looking guy, but damn, Greg was something else.
Or maybe it was just because he belonged to him and he was so wonderfully masterful and confident. He faced shit head-on and was prepared to fight for what he wanted.
“He’ll come around.” Aleco walked up to Greg and put his hand on his shoulder. “If you’re all truly destined to be mates, he won’t be able to fight it.”
“And will that be cool with you?” There was tension in Greg’s voice.
Aleco’s answer was important. Hugely important. If he wouldn’t accept it, would they be forced to leave? What would they do if the choice was Carlos or the Redwood Shifters?
“Goddamn it,” Aleco huffed. “I just had to accept a freakin’ cat into the pack. What difference would a Rocky Mountain defector make?” He squeezed Greg’s shoulder and looked at Patrick. “If you guys can persuade your man to join you in a ménage way of life, then, yeah, it’ll be cool with me and the rest of the dogs.”
“Thank you.” Patrick smiled and blew out a breath through pursed lips. Thank goodness Aleco was such a good and fair leader. He didn’t fancy leaving his home, but he would have if that was how it had to be to have Carlos with them.
Greg said nothing, but he clasped Aleco’s arm in a way that showed his gratitude.
Aleco gave a tight nod. “So, now the storm’s over, let’s hope he comes back none too worse for wear and you can bring him into your home, lives and bed in a permanent way.”
“I’d like that,” a familiar voice said.
Patrick swung his attention to the door. Carlos stood there, wearing just his black boxers, his hair and skin shiny and damp. Behind him, the sun had come out and highlighted him in a golden glow, spreading his long shadow on the cabin floor.
“Carlos,” Patrick gasped. “You came back.”
“Of course I did.”