Chapter Seventeen
brYCE
The meeting didn’t last long. Probably because the councilors had run up against an unexpected brick wall in both Matt’s and Jesse’s attitudes—they weren’t going to be dazzled by fancy words or promises.
Bryce would be glad to see them leave, especially Tom’s boss, Councilor Steadman.
She was attractive, but Bryce’s balls wanted to crawl up inside his body whenever she looked at him.
She was a powerful, intelligent woman, but unlike some men, he had no problem with that.
It was something in her eyes, something he couldn’t identify, that had him wary of her.
She was talking to Matt right now, and as Bryce looked around the room, he saw that Bennett had taken advantage of that to corner Jesse. Bryce moved closer. Jesse could look after himself, but it wouldn’t do any harm for both of them to know Bryce was there.
“I can understand why you might be reluctant,” Bennett was saying.
“But at the same time, just think what a united shifter community could achieve. Full rights for shifters would no longer be seen as something questionable but as remarkable they took so long to come. We could use that leverage to force the repeal of the law that prevents shifters who serve in the military from belonging to a pack. Can you imagine how many shifter veterans would benefit from that? They’d no longer find themselves discharged with no support system in place, vulnerable and alone. ”
Jesse’s mouth opened, but he didn’t manage to get a word out before Bennett swept on.
“And of course, the more that shifters are accepted, the less prejudice there will be against shifters and non-shifters who are mates.”
“Councilor Bennett,” Bryce said, stepping forward and fighting the urge to take him by the arm and expel him from the room at high velocity. “I believe we’re reconvening at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
He’d just made himself an enemy, if the way Bennett’s eyes narrowed on him was any indication. He didn’t care—anyone who’d drag up the history of pack members and use Jesse’s loyalty to try and manipulate him did not deserve to be treated courteously.
Once he’d walked Bennett the few steps to Matt’s side so he could say goodbye to him, he glanced back to find Riley was now with Jesse, his sharp eyes darting around the room as if he’d picked up on the need to buffer Jesse from these blathering fools.
Tristan was talking to Tom—or more like listening to him, which was so unusual for him that Bryce stared. He didn’t remember deciding to cross the room to them. His body just went. It appeared that he could no more stay away from Tom than he could warm to Councilor Steadman.
When he got to them, he heard what held Tristan so captivated. Tom was talking about Councilor Steadman’s evolving thoughts on how to lessen the power of lobby groups.
“I thought you were going to spend your life designing bridges, not running for office,” Bryce said, placing his hand on Tristan’s shoulder.
The thought of someone as honest and optimistic as Tristan in a shark pool like Washington made his blood run cold, even as he thought it might be the best thing ever to happen to politics.
“Bryce, hey,” Tristan said, and squirmed out from under his grip. “I have to go. I said I’d check in with Colby.”
Bryce knew that was an outright lie because Colby was somewhere out in the darkness with Karl. They wouldn’t be checking in with anyone until Matt called them in.
Tristan beamed at Tom. “I hadn’t thought about it like that before. Mind if we finish that conversation tomorrow?”
Tom smiled back—it was impossible not to respond that way to Tristan—but his eyes rested on Bryce as he answered. “If we have the chance, I’d be glad to.”
“Thanks,” Tristan said, and as he turned away, he leaned in to murmur into Bryce’s ear, “Tell him over breakfast would be fine.”
He got a swat for his trouble, but Bryce knew his body language well enough to know that damn kid was still smirking as he walked away. He thought he was so smart, trying to throw Bryce and Tom together.
What Tristan didn’t realize was that they didn’t need throwing together.
Tom’s eyes were darkening as he looked at Bryce, and Bryce’s heart did something strange in response.
His presence made something in Bryce settle and stretch toward him like warmth on a cold night, his wolf wanting nothing more than to curl around Tom.
Bryce stepped in close. “You staying tonight?” he asked, quiet enough for only Tom to hear.
Tom took a careful step back, serving to remind Bryce—and possibly himself—that he was still on the clock. Officially, he was at work, and his boss was standing just a few feet from them.
“I’d like that,” he said quietly, his eyes warm. “But let me find out if I’m needed back at the hotel.”
He moved away from Bryce with the ease of someone who spent their life circulating around rooms, moving from group to group without causing offense.
Bryce forced himself not to crane after him.
Instead, he glanced around once more to find that still no one had left.
Jason and Tristan had joined Riley in running interference for Jesse, ensuring no one else could get near him, and Bryce could see why.
Jesse’s breathing was ragged, his pupils wide.
He hadn’t seen Jesse this twitchy since he’d first come to them, and it twisted something in him.
Jesse deserved his peace. His home should’ve been quiet and safe, not full of grabbing hands and politics.
Bryce had to get these assholes out of here before Matt’s need to protect his mate swamped his tenuous diplomatic attempts and he ended up throwing the Leader of the National Council out on his tailor-clad ass in the dirt.
So Bryce made a few more enemies as he peeled Thompson and Hart away from Matt’s side, where Bennett was explaining pompously that while he appreciated Matt’s inclusive approach to running a pack, it might not be appropriate to have random low-ranked pack members present at their next meeting.
Bryce’s anger at that gave him the impetus he needed to practically shove the two councilors through the front door.
Their drivers started the car engines the instant they showed. And hell, had no one thought to offer them somewhere to sit in the warm? It hadn’t occurred to Bryce they’d have drivers. He hadn’t realized that when people got to high office, they lost the ability to drive.
He turned to go inside, stepping back briefly to let Steadman out. She gave him a glittering smile as she swept past, but it didn’t reach her eyes. And then finally Bennett was out, too.
And Tom hadn’t gone with them. Which meant…
He walked back into the living room and Tom met his approach with a wide smile. Bryce felt the tension in his shoulders ease as he returned Tom’s smile. He knew Tristan was smirking, but he didn’t care. “You’re staying then?”
“Given my ride just left, I hope so.” He hesitated, catching movement across the room. His voice dropped, the warmth replaced by concern. “Although—should I go? Jesse looks as if he’s had enough of strangers.”
Bryce looked around and found Tom’s observation was right.
Jesse looked like he was about to shift in the middle of the living room, clothes be damned, and even Matt’s touch wasn’t calming him down too much.
Bryce watched as Matt guided him out the door and along the hallway, away from the overly warm room that still seemed to ring with the sound of too many conversations being held at once.
He looked back at Tom, who was obviously ready to go if he was told to, and something in his chest squeezed. Because Tom was not only hot and intelligent but observant and kind.
“He’ll be fine. He and Matt will probably run out in the wilderness a while, and once he’s settled, Matt will take him to bed. And then he won’t know anything except for Matt. But thank you.” He looked deep into Tom’s eyes to underline his last words.
Tom smiled, slow and certain, and Bryce didn’t need any clearer invitation. He stepped in close, his hand rising instinctively to Tom’s jaw. His skin was warm, faintly rough with the beginning of stubble.
Their mouths met with no hesitation, just heat and certainty.
The first brush of lips lingered, and then Tom opened to him.
Bryce deepened the kiss with a slow slide of tongue, tasting the warmth of coffee and something sharper underneath—want, maybe—and felt Tom respond with a low hum in his throat.
It wasn’t hurried or frantic with need, though that thrummed through it. For Bryce, it felt like coming home.
When they broke apart, their breath mingled between them, unsteady but not unsure. Tom’s eyes were darker now, and Bryce felt something shift in his chest, like a piece had just clicked into place that he hadn’t even known was missing.
“Yeah,” Bryce murmured, a little hoarse. “This is… yeah.”
His wolf was pressing close inside him, watchful and quiet, as if the world had just changed and it was the only one who’d noticed.
TOM
The house had emptied slowly after the councilors left, their cars disappearing into the dark like beetles scuttling off into the night. Even after they were gone, the air inside felt too full, too loud with the echo of insistent conversations.
Tom found himself drifting into the kitchen.
He’d loosened his necktie and taken off his jacket, opting for comfort over presentation now his boss was gone.
Bryce had disappeared a few moments ago, saying he needed to check in with Karl and Colby.
But before he left, he’d given Tom a long look that held a promise.
Tom slung his jacket over the back of a chair and poured himself a coffee.
The rest of the pack had scattered, which he was grateful for.
Normally, he’d have welcomed Tristan’s questions about how Washington really worked—he was well-informed and smart as hell—but he was glad Tristan had been tactful enough to make himself scarce after the kiss.
Because tonight he wanted to be with Bryce, and for nothing to get in the way of that.
The clock above the stove read half past ten.
The moon had climbed high, silvering the yard, and undoubtedly Jesse’s coat, wherever he was out there.
With Matt, steady and sure. But even Matt Urban might not be enough to protect Jesse once the eyes of the world were upon him.
And Tom was going to be part of the machine that used Jesse, that made decisions which would affect the rest of his life.
The back door banged open, tearing him from his less-than-happy thoughts. Bryce’s smile of greeting swiftly turned into a look of concern.
“You okay?” he asked, crossing the kitchen to Tom.
And the touch, his hand on Tom’s arm, drove all other thoughts from his mind.
* * *
It was the same when they were in bed together. The only thing that mattered was Bryce, pressed warm against him, kissing Tom like he wanted to learn everything about him.
Tom arched up as Bryce settled over him, their legs tangling, breath catching. The way he looked—flushed and open, eyes dark—nearly undid Tom then and there.
“Tell me what you want,” Bryce whispered, lips brushing Tom’s jaw.
“You,” Tom said softly, truthfully. “Just you.”
They didn’t speak after that. Bryce slicked his fingers and worked Tom open slowly, watching his face every second. Tom’s breaths turned ragged, his hips shifting in tiny, urgent motions, and when he finally nodded, Bryce pushed inside with a groan that sounded like it scraped his throat.
It felt right. Too right. Like his body had been waiting for this, for him.
Bryce moved slowly, deep strokes that stole the breath from both of them. Tom curled an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer, their chests pressed together, sweat-slick and shaking.
“Bryce,” he gasped, and the sound of it undid Bryce. He buried his face in Tom’s neck, shaking as he came. And when Tom followed him over, Bryce’s name on his lips sounded like a prayer.
* * *
It started with warmth. A slow, comforting heat wrapped around his back and across his hips, a steady rhythm of breath at the nape of his neck. Tom surfaced slowly, and for a moment, he didn’t remember where he was.
Except Zack didn’t cuddle.
And then whoever it was shifted behind him, one strong thigh nudging between his, an arm tightening briefly around his waist. That familiar scent, the scrape of stubble at his shoulder—there was no mistaking it. Bryce.
A smile curved at the edge of Tom’s mouth. He didn’t move. Didn’t want to disturb the quiet. Something about the way they fit together made him ache, though not in a way that hurt. It was... rightness. As though everything in his life had tilted into place without asking permission.
And then his wolf, normally a low hum in the background of his awareness, rose. Not demanding or urgent, but content. Settled.
It startled him, and he stayed still, letting it roll over him as he tried to figure out exactly what it was. The sense that nothing needed to be done. That everything—right here, right now—was exactly where it should be. And when had that ever happened before?
He’d known he was falling in love. But this was deeper than that. This was certainty. He breathed, and it felt like a key turning in a lock he hadn’t known was there.
Mine, his wolf whispered.
They were mates.
His breath hitched. He turned carefully onto his back, not wanting to lose the feel of Bryce beside him, the connection still humming between them.
When he looked up, Bryce was already awake, watching him. His expression was unreadable as something flickered in his eyes.
Tom smiled, tentative and full of wonder. “You felt that too. Didn’t you?”
There was a moment of silence. A long one.
Then Bryce breathed out sharply and pulled away.