19. Jaime
Chapter 19
“So, you do always take your clothes off before you turn into a giant wolf.”
Jaime was seated on the couch before the fire, naked except for the blanket draped around his waist. Finn had fussed over him when they ventured downstairs, tucking him in before he made dinner, but Jaime had batted him away.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t cherish the attention, but there really was no need. Yes, he was a little sore from the deep pounding Finn had just given him, but he secretly loved it—loved seeing and feeling the evidence of Finn’s desire, his loss of control. Finally coming together with him, feeling Finn so deep inside of him, was pure ecstasy.
He couldn’t wait to do it again.
Jaime slurped down the best chicken and dumplings he’d ever had, and eyed Finn as he finished his dinner first and set the empty bowl on the coffee table.
“Ok, you ate. Now will you show me?”
Finn huffed, and Jaime beamed as he stood.
Finn gave him a look. “You would take your clothes off too, if you’d ripped through as many good shirts as I have over the years. Also, I’m still not convinced that we shouldn’t have you checked for a concussion or sleep deprivation. You’re handling the fact that I turn into an animal entirely too well.”
Jaime shrugged. “The government basically told us that aliens are real a few years ago. This is not that much more of a stretch.”
At Finn’s disbelieving look, Jaime asked, “What? Would you have preferred it if I panicked and flung holy water at you or something?”
“That’s vampires.”
Jaime choked on a dumpling, coughing. “Holy fuck, are vampires real? Are aliens real? Witches? Bigfoot? Oh my God, is the Megalodon real?”
Finn smirked, and shook his head as if to say, I’m standing in front of my mate, naked, about to turn into a giant wolf, and he’s more concerned about Sasquatch?
Ticking his answers off on his fingers, Finn replied, “Yes, fuck if I know, yes, I’ve heard he’s an asshole, and baby, please do not go into the ocean alone. Ever. I don’t know if there’s a giant shark swimming around out there or not, but you definitely should not mess with the merfolk.”
Jaime gaped at him, spoon frozen halfway up to his mouth. Processing.
Mermaids.
“You’re fucking with me.”
Finn grinned. “No, I’m not. But if you’d like, we can take this upstairs for another go.”
A matching smile stretched across Jaime’s face, so wide it ached. “I fucking love you. We’re talking about this more later. Please, show me your wolf now.” He gestured with his spoon for Finn to continue, who just shook his head in fond exasperation.
And then he turned into a wolf the size of a horse.
As with his partial shift, a tremor passed through Finn’s body before he bunched and stretched into this form. Landing on four feet, the wolf shook his head before lifting great, big, soil brown eyes up to peer right at Jaime, and huffed.
Jaime blinked, setting down his now empty bowl. Logically, he knew that it was Finn looking back at him, but still, some part of his brain was very aware that he was now trapped in a small cabin with a giant predator.
He swallowed, and swore the great wolf tracked the movement. “Right. Yes, I see. You’re a wolf. Very… wolfy. Are real wolves actually this large? Your paws are the size of my head. Or, well, I guess you are a real wolf too, obviously. But like, the ones everyone else knows about.”
Finn took one large step forward and butted his head against Jaime’s chest, stopping his rambling. Reflexively, Jaime reached up and dug his fingers into the fur around Finn’s ears, scratching there. He listened as a deep rumble came from Finn, and all of his nervousness left him.
Giggling, he crooned, “My wolf who purrs.”
Finn chuffed, the purring growing louder as he nuzzled his head all along Jaime’s neck and chest. He felt Finn’s body begin to rock back and forth, and looked up to see Finn’s tail. Wagging.
Finn, the giant wolf who purred, was wagging his tail at Jaime.
“Oh my God, you’re adorable.” He stood up, taking the blanket with him wrapped around his shoulders like a cape, and ran his hands along Finn’s side and down to his tail, walking along his great big body. With his head raised, Finn was tall enough to look Jaime right in the eye.
“You have a tail, and you can purr. Really, Finn, why are you so cute?”
Finn huffed at that, but Jaime swore he held his head a little higher. He moved up and around his body and sat down on the couch again, where Finn promptly pressed his face back into Jaime’s chest. “Do you want me to scratch your ears again?”
Finn chuffed and pressed harder.
“Ok, yes, I get it.” He began scratching, using both hands to rub the base of Finn’s ears. Jaime could feel the tension leaving his heavily-muscled shoulders, and Finn’s eyes started drooping.
Jaime smiled, and softly asked, “How could I ever be afraid of you?”
Finn pulled his head back to look at Jaime fully, his brown eyes the same, still loving and earnest. He whined, and without warning lapped his tongue up the side of Jaime’s face in one great big kiss.
Laughing, Jaime shrieked when Finn did it again and again, batting at him as he fell back into the couch.
Eventually, Finn relented and padded back, a large tremor going through him before he was standing back on two legs, staring at Jaime in wide-eyed adoration.
Wiping at his face, Jaime groused, “Ugh, great. Now I need to go and wash off again.”
Finn tackled him back into the couch and began landing wet, smacking kisses all over him while Jaime cackled.
The next two days were some of the best of Jaime’s life, even with the looming threat of the trial, Jeffrey Dugan and the Salt Creek pack, and Jaime’s argument with Sam hanging over him.
Yes, he was still terrified that he would panic and be unable to give his testimony in front of everyone, and yes, a part of him did wonder what Sam could have possibly said to explain his actions this past year, but it was hard to focus too much on either when he was so fucking happy.
And safe.
They were out in the middle of nowhere, completely untraceable, hidden from the Salt Creek wolves. Even though he was terrified to testify and to face the possibility of losing Sam forever, he knew those were his battles to fight—his fears to confront. And he was so damn grateful that he had Finn to help with the rest, to protect him from the threats he couldn’t face alone.
Like giant, vengeful wolves.
Also, Finn was a sex god, wringing climax after climax out of Jaime until he was all cotton candy soft thoughts and loose limbs draped over Finn. He always had a look of pure male satisfaction and smugness on his face after he fucked Jaime so good he couldn’t move, and Jaime would have teased him about it, but, well, he usually wasn’t even able to say his own name, let alone form whole sentences.
They’d fucked all over the cabin. In the loft, obviously, on the couch, out on the porch while watching the sunset, and once they’d even tried to shower together in the tiny stall, Finn pressing Jaime up against the wall and grunting filthy praise into his ear as he fucked him in short, deep thrusts that ground against his prostate every time, making his balls tighten right from the start.
Jaime came in record time, panting open mouthed kisses along Finn’s chest and shoulders, cock untouched except for the hot slide and grind between them.
The sex had been incredible, but seeing as Finn had to step out once Jaime’s knees stopped trembling so he had room to actually clean himself off before trading places, they’d kept their showers short and solo, purely for washing after that.
Jaime’s favorite, though, was when he’d stumbled down the loft steps, having just swallowed Finn’s cock until his knot popped in Jaime’s tight hold and he poured his hot release down his throat with a broken whine.
Finn had stepped back inside the cabin after using the outhouse, took one look at Jaime where he stood, naked and flushed, gulping down a glass of water, and crowded him back against the counter, spun him around by the hips, and urged him to bend over with a hand on his back.
“Hold on to something, baby.”
Doing as he was told, Jaime stayed bent over and gripped the edge of the counter as he heard the snick of the lube bottle from somewhere behind him, then the lewd, wet noises of Finn slicking himself up.
Jaime was still prepped from that morning, and they had discovered together that he really liked how the initial stretch felt—the near too-much edge just as pain tipped into pleasure. So, two fingers to slick up his insides was the only prep that Finn gave him before he stuffed his cock inside, the blunt head catching on Jaime’s rim before bottoming out in one thrust.
They both gasped, Finn bracing himself over Jaime, anchoring him down, and then he fucked him harder and deeper than ever before.
Jaime cried out his name, sobbing and hiccuping in pleasure at the sheer ecstasy of it, hands scrabbling for purchase as Finn punched his thick cock up into Jaime’s belly relentlessly, driving him up onto his tip-toes every time.
It was never ending. Finn took Jaime higher and higher and higher with his praise and gentle commands, telling him that he was such a good boy, he was so good at this, he felt divine.
Finn told Jaime to take it as he heaved him back against his chest and held him tight around his belly and shoulders with firm, claw-tipped hands, pressing them together as Finn ground up into him while Jaime mewled. He knew he’d have new marks from this, cherished the proof of Finn’s want written all over him, reminding him of the pleasure they took in each other.
Jaime’s orgasm was a tidal wave—he saw it building long before it hit him full on, and yet he was still unprepared.
Voice cracking and pitching high, all Jaime could do was hold on, unable to support his own weight anymore as he took himself in hand and shouted Finn’s name over and over while he came, cum spilling all over the counter, all over his own belly and hand.
Finn’s arms banded even tighter. He grunted and thrust up into Jaime twice more before he came too, cock throbbing and jerking as he shoved himself deep inside and held tight, shouting his own climax.
Finn held Jaime up for a long while until their breathing slowed, nose buried in his hair as he softened inside of him.
Once Finn withdrew in a long, slow pull and Jaime wobbled back down off his tip-toes onto unsteady legs, Finn’s cum slipping down the backs of his thighs, they stayed there, fingers tangled together as they exchanged wet, filthy kisses.
Long hours later, well after dark, they lay wrapped around each other before the fire and listened to the chilly spring rain patter on the roof.
Jaime peppered Finn with questions about all of the paranormal people in Silver Rapids, completely fascinated.
“I knew there was something up with that Jared guy at the bookstore!” Jaime exclaimed, twisting in Finn’s arms. “He’s definitely a paranormal, right?”
Finn chuckled. “Yes, he’s a bear shifter. Polar bear, actually. Guy’s a loner and doesn’t really talk much to other people, but he’s always been kind to me. He just doesn’t take to strangers very well.”
Jaime hummed. “And Andi? I want to meet her properly, now. No wonder her food is so delicious, it’s literally magic.”
Finn chuckled again and agreed, and wondered aloud if she’d be more inclined to share her culinary secrets with Jaime instead of him.
Silence stretched between them, comfortable and familiar. Finn lightly traced the tips of his claws up and down the soft underside of Jaime’s arms in soothing strokes, just the way he liked, and Jaime knew that he wanted every night to feel like this, for the rest of his life.
Forever.
He turned his face toward Finn, pressing his cheek into the meat of his shoulder. “Finn?”
“Hmm?” Finn looked like he’d been dozing, but he cracked one eye open to look at Jaime.
“Why haven’t you bitten me yet? I mean, why haven’t we tried to, you know, while you’re shifted?”
The sleepy daze fell away from his face, and Finn propped them both up a little straighter before answering, a smirk slashed across his face. “You’ve had my cock inside of you every which way, and you’re calling sex you know? I’ve seen what you read baby, don’t be shy.”
Jaime glared, blush sitting high on his cheeks. “Fine. Why haven’t you fucked me, knotted me, bitten me, and claimed me yet? I think I’m more than ready to take you,” he sniffed, chin lifted.
Sweet delight shot through him as he saw the effect of his words on Finn, eyes going hazy for an entirely different reason, now. He shook his head as if to clear it, the move so lupine that Jaime snickered, but he saw Finn sober before he replied.
“First, you’re going to need far more prep than you usually let me get to before I knot you. Second… I want to. And I know you want to, too. It’s not doubt, I promise.”
He paused, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind Jaime’s ear. “When we take that step, I don’t want it to be clouded by the fear and uncertainty we are in now. I want us both to be clear headed, in a home that we make ours. When we’re both old and gray, I want to look back and remember all the love and happiness that we felt when I finally claim you, not those Salt Creek assholes.”
Jaime smiled, leaning into his touch and opened his mouth to say that he agreed, but the shrill chime of the ringing phone cut him off.
So far, they had only communicated with Sheppard and Silas through text message on the secure line, and it was too late for this to be a casual check-in. Looking like his thoughts were similarly skewed, Finn reached over Jaime and snagged the phone off of the coffee table and answered, putting it on speaker.
“Sheppard, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”
The line crackled and his voice was a bit tinny as Sheppard replied, “Is Jaime there with you?”
Looking even more alarmed, Finn tightened the arm still banded around his shoulders. “Yes.”
Sheppard gave a relieved sigh, which sent Jaime’s heart racing. Focusing on keeping his breathing steady, Jaime said, “I’m here, Sheppard. What’s going on?”
“Bishop escaped. He was being transported to the courthouse for a pre-trial hearing this afternoon and the van crashed. He’s in the wind.”
Jaime couldn’t feel his body. Finn shot up off of the couch and began pacing, hurling questions at Sheppard that Jaime didn’t hear.
He could feel the walls closing in around him, the pull and bite of the bindings around his wrists and the gag making it hard to breathe. Sucking in great heaving breaths, he tried to move, to do something as he stared at the unmoving, dead eyes of Vera while she lay in a pool of her own blood. Hands scrambling, he tried to close the wound on her stomach, tried to put everything back inside where it should be, but he kept slipping and getting stuck in all of the blood covering him, gluing his hands and feet to the floor as he heard the approaching footsteps behind him, getting closer, closer, a dark shape looming in his periphery, before?—
“Jaime, baby. Hey, shh. It’s ok. Let’s breathe together, yeah?”
The voice was different from Jackson Bishop’s. A lower timber. He’d heard it before, had followed it out of the dark before.
It was safety.
Jaime swam back up to that voice, letting it guide him through the exercises from the pamphlet until he could open his eyes, until his breathing slowed enough to lift his head from where he’d curled tight into himself.
Finn was there. His Finn. Gentle and brave and so kind, the Finn who always stood shoulder to shoulder with him. The one who would always protect him when he needed it. He was there, and Jaime wasn’t stuck in that house, in that closet, anymore. He’d gotten out, he’d survived, and now he was here with his Finn.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, Jaime took a long, wet breath. “I’m sorry.”
Finn wrapped broad arms around him. “Oh, baby. Don’t ever apologize for that. Not ever. That phone call hit us both sideways. I’m sorry for not stepping in to help sooner.”
Jaime shook his head. “It was a shock to us both. If I don’t get to apologize, neither do you.”
Finn held him a while longer, and after gulping down some water, Jaime asked him to fill him in on what he’d missed.
Police weren’t sure whether the wreck was an accident or intentional, but Bishop certainly had help. Most likely from the Salt Creek deputies that were in his escort, either through a coordinated effort or seizing a moment of opportunity.
Apparently, Sheppard said that DA Rivera had narrowed down both his identity leak and the main suspect in aiding Bishop’s release to Detective Jones, which did actually shock Jaime a little. He was an ass, sure, but he had seemed invested in bringing justice to Vera.
More concerning, though, was his potential knowledge of Jaime and Finn’s whereabouts. Detective Sutton was made aware that they were relocating to a secure safe house, and if Detective Jones somehow got ahold of their location and communicated it to Bishop or Jeffrey Dugan… Jaime shuddered.
Finn continued explaining that no one knew where Bishop was. Monroe PD’s search area was too narrow, based on the potential movements and physical limitations of a human man, but the paranormals on the force were doing what they could with the help of other packs and shifters in the area to get a wider search party together.
It was difficult though, given that Bishop likely had help from Detective Jones and other Salt Creek deputies who weren’t talking. Jeffrey Dugan’s tail hadn’t reported any suspicious activity, and though they suspected the two were connected, there was no proof that he’d helped with Bishop’s escape, so they couldn’t arrest him.
Dana, Detective Sutton, and DA Rivera all called one after the other through the secured line, updating him and asking if he was ok, if they were safe. Being blindsided by that first phone call had sucked, but Jaime did ok for the rest of the conversations. He kept his breathing steady, anyway.
Everyone seemed to agree that it was best for them to stay where they were for the moment. There was no proof that Detective Jones had compromised their location, and now that the trial was on hold, they had no reason to leave until Bishop was apprehended. The cabin was defensible, and was as good a place as any to hole up until Bishop was found. They all promised that they’d call to check in tomorrow.
Jaime felt strung out and thin, suddenly overly anxious about locked doors and open windows when he hadn’t been before. Ready to go tuck into bed next to Finn, he started for the stairs when the phone rang again.
Finn answered, “Silas.”
The relief and raw emotion in his voice brought tears to Jaime’s eyes, the ache in his chest from missing Sam sudden and overwhelming.
Finn darted his eyes up to Jaime, full of empathy and understanding. “He’s here with me, yes, but just about to head up to bed. This is so fucked, Si.”
They exchanged a few words, and it seemed that Silas didn’t know anymore than anyone else, but then Finn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Something else you want to mention, brother?”
Jaime could only make out a few gruff mumbles in response. Finn again looked up at Jaime, this time in conspiring surprise. “Tell him that he’s ok. Shaken by the news, but ok. Does he… I mean, does he want me to hand the phone over?”
Jaime narrowed his eyes in question. Finn’s face fell a bit. “Well, ok. I’ll say goodnight, then. Yeah, we’ll talk tomorrow. Be safe.” His face grew fond. “Yeah, you too, Si.”
Hanging up, Finn heaved a great sigh and tossed the phone aside, bouncing on the couch cushions. With an unreadable look on his face, he said, “So, that was Silas. And Sam.”
Jaime’s brows shot up just like Finn’s had. “Sam is with Silas? At your house? Why?”
Finn shook his head once in an unsure gesture. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t say anything, except that Sam needed to know you were safe.”
Jaime’s mouth tightened. “And he couldn’t tell me that himself?”
Finn rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, I’m not sure he thought you’d want to hear from him, after your… conversation, the other morning. Apparently, he just wanted you to know that he is thinking about you, and wants you to be safe.”
Jaime rolled his eyes and started up the stairs, unable to stop his snide tone. “Helpful.”
Finn didn’t say anything more about it after that. He had to be tired and anxious too, and some part of Jaime knew his reaction wasn’t entirely fair. Yes, Sam had ignored him for the better part of a year when he’d reached out, but he also knew that after what he’d said in Finn’s bedroom, he’d probably need to be the one to re-open that line of communication.
Tomorrow. Maybe the next day. Not tonight, when all he wanted was to crash into bed and curl up in the safety and warmth of Finn’s arms, too exhausted for anything else.
The next two days at the cabin were entirely different from the first two that they’d spent together.
Now, their tiny shelter really did feel like a safe house, and less like a sex den. The windows were too small, and yet too exposing, and the outhouse was too far for Jaime to comfortably go without Finn standing on the porch, keeping watch.
Finn was almost always in his partial shift now, always tense and alert, and he rarely left Jaime’s side for longer than a few minutes at a time. Before, Jaime had passed the time that they weren’t fucking each other like animals by reading, or doing one of the puzzles on the shelf. He’d even debated firing up his iPad, safely on airplane mode, and sketching a few things that had been on his mind.
Finn, mostly.
Finn had also read, going through thrillers nearly as quickly as Jaime read romances. And he’d take an hour or so here and there to run laps around the cabin in his wolf shift, burning energy and assessing their perimeter.
But not now. Now, he was glued to Jaime’s side, their anxiety bouncing off of each other.
In theory, they didn’t have anything to worry about. Bishop was still in the wind, but it had been two days with no sign of him, and with Detective Jones’ continual denial that he had anything to do with Bishop, no one had any more concrete evidence that he knew where Finn and Jaime were.
Still, the not-knowing had changed the dynamic of their stay at the safe house.
On the evening of the fourth day there, Jaime was ready to pull his hair out from the anxiety and tension pouring from them both. Finn was staring at him nearly as much as he was staring out the windows, giving him those big, brown, puppy eyes like he expected Jaime to disappear into thin air.
Unable to stand it any longer, Jaime snapped, “I'm fine. Stop looking at me like I’m going to fall apart at any moment.”
Finn looked down and shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being a lot. I didn’t realize how much I was counting on Bishop being locked up and unable to get to you again.”
Guilt washed away Jaime’s irritation. His shoulders dropped, and he padded over to Finn and reached for his hand. “No, don’t apologize. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, I’m just anxious.”
Jaime ran his fingers through his messy hair, lightly pulling. “I hate the waiting. I hate that we are both so tense, and I hate letting him control what I do, again. Over and over I’ve let this monster dictate where I go, and who I can and can’t see, and how I feel. I hate that he’s wormed his way into our lives, again. I’m just tired of it.”
Finn didn’t say anything—there really wasn’t anything he could say. He pulled Jaime close, wrapping him up tightly.
After several long minutes of just holding each other, Jaime stood on his tip-toes to pull Finn’s mouth down to his, the kiss moving from tender and sweet to filthy and hot, teeth clacking.
And then Finn was in his human form again, walking Jaime backwards until he dropped down onto the couch. Following him down, Finn’s voice cracked on a plea. “Jaime, I need?—”
Jaime knew what he needed. “I know. I know. Take it.”
They came together quickly, frantically, all grasping hands and needy kisses and breathy gasps, thrusting hard over clothes pulled aside just enough. The hasty swipe of lube provided enough slick so that the stretch around Finn’s girth simmered low at the base of Jaime’s spine, making him cry out and see stars, his own cock throbbing in pleasure.
Finn was the only thing Jaime knew, after that. His weight on top of him, cradling him tight while he moved deeply inside, swallowing all of Jaime’s gasps and whimpers, words full of hot praise and earnest love—Finn filled Jaime up, and there was no more room inside of him for anything else.
Finn exercised his need to protect, his fear of losing Jaime again in brutal, powerful thrusts, and Jaime took it all. He let the high tide of Finn completely overwhelm him, needing to feel covered, consumed, and held.
He whispered his own promises back to Finn—one for each time that he pounded deep into Jaime—that he would never leave, he was Finn’s, and Finn was his.
Forever. Forever.
Jaime’s words ripped Finn’s orgasm from him, sobbing in pleasure and relief as he spilled deep inside, and fisted Jaime’s cock until he came, too.
Finn was still trembling when the aftershocks finished, pressing kisses and high pitched whines into Jaime’s neck, behind his ear, into his hair. So Jaime wrapped his arms around his love, and held him tight.
Still seated deep inside, neither willing to part just yet, Finn finally spoke. “We’re together now. We’re together, and I’ll never let him rip you away from me again. I won’t allow it. I won’t.”
Jaime placed soothing kisses along Finn’s temple, sensing that the words were meant more for himself.
Jaime drifted out of a fitful sleep the next morning when he felt Finn shift beside him. Pressing a lingering kiss to his temple, Finn whispered, “I’m going to go split more firewood, baby. I’ll be back inside in a few minutes.”
Jaime pressed his face back into the pillow, mumbling about eggs for breakfast.
Finn huffed out a laugh, and tromped down the stairs, shuffling around in the kitchen before he went outside.
Yes, he does always clomp around everywhere he goes.
Jaime smiled into the pillow and drifted off for a little while, allowing himself to wake up slowly. Finn came back inside only a few minutes later, though, shutting the door quietly behind him and softly treading up the stairs.
Smirking, voice still muffled by their bedding, Jaime said, “While I appreciate the effort to be quiet so that I can sleep in, I’m starving. What are you?—”
He rolled over to look up at Finn, but it wasn’t Finn looming over him.
“I should have fucking killed you a year ago.”