Chapter Five
Laken
To have fun? What did that mean?
The strange drop in his stomach made him rub at it, trying to dispel the feeling. He stared at the door in despair at Isley leaving him in the clutches of Louis. It was only that and nothing more.
Who are you kidding?
He’d planned to force Isley to come along to dinner to stop whatever Louis had in mind for the evening.
Had he not made every effort to keep Isley between him and Louis?
Isley hadn’t gotten with the program. He’d worn that sulky scowl all day, though Laken didn’t understand why, which frustrated him and left him feeling uneasy.
He didn’t want to go out for dinner, but it was the polite thing to do with business colleagues. Isley should understand that it was work and nothing more, right?
You seem to be forgetting the octopus hands.
The man did have hands that were more like tentacles.
They seemed to be forever reaching to touch him.
He’d tried being subtle and moving out of reach, but that had failed on multiple occasions, and his skin was crawling with the need to strip and shower.
Except he didn’t want to appear as if he’d gone to any effort for the evening and give the wrong signal.
So, he’d sat down and used work to occupy himself like he always did.
Work was easy and not complicated, like everything else in his life.
The irrepressible urge to go after Isley and say he’d changed his mind about seeing Paris with him caught him off guard.
Not a position he often found himself in.
He hadn’t expected Isley to be so bold and he’d gone with his usual response when anyone asked him to do anything because it was an ingrained habit to escape awkward situations.
Only now this was more awkward than ever because he had no way out of this evening and no buffer. Couldn’t Isley see he didn’t want that type of attention from Louis? Fuck, he’d given Isley several pointed looks to get him out of the situation.
You smiled at Louis.
What the fuck has that got to do with anything. I was being polite.
You don’t smile at Isley like that.
I’m not getting your point. And I do smile at him. He did? Anyway, he works for me, I’m always polite to him.
Are you that dense? Smiling at Louis is more like flirting when you don’t hold back!
You can’t be serious?
Seriously dense. Why are we going out to dinner tonight with the octopus, which you don’t like to eat, just saying, when we could be strolling through Paris with Isley, having fun. What if he brings his fun back here with him? Did you think about that?
Laken growled low and mean at his animal side for even suggesting such a thing.
We’re here to work.
To Laken’s mind there was a clear definition. When at work, you worked. Once you left the office then that was different. It wasn’t like Isley had ever invited him to do anything after work.
You are too much. Honestly, how did I get lumbered with you? It is after work! You’ve worked twenty plus hours over the last two days.
Laken rubbed at his pounding temples, finding he didn’t have an answer.
I have the answer, you're scared of your feelings.
Give the fuck over.
Whatever. Scaredy cat.
He rose and stomped the short distance to the window, looking out at Paris. It was as beautiful as the sun set, the buildings twinkling with lights along with the Eiffel tower. Laken found no joy in it when Isley was out there having fun without him.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood brooding at the window, searching the crowded streets for a glimpse of Isley, before his phone alerted to a message. He went and retrieved it from the ornate coffee table and groaned in distress at seeing Louis’s name.
Louis: I’m in the foyer. What room number are you, I’ll come up.
“No you won’t!” Laken grabbed his suit jacket and quickly marched out of the room, heading to the elevators.
Once inside, he pushed his phone into his trouser pocket and slipped his jacket on, tugging on his cuffs to straighten the shirt beneath.
He ran his hands through his hair, then stepped out into the lobby, his gaze sweeping over those milling around to find Louis.
He sighed heavily at the effort the other man had obviously gone to.
Dressed all in black, there was nothing staid about the outfit.
A tight, slinky shirt revealed the slender chest beneath.
Painted on trousers highlighted everything the man had to offer.
He’d even smudged black eyeliner around his eyes, giving him a sultry look.
One Laken could appreciate it, the same as he could the sun warming his skin.
It wasn’t essential to him, just nice. Essential was a tiny terror who had left him all alone.
“There you are,” Louis murmured huskily, slipping his arm through Laken’s and guiding his unwilling ass outside. His free hand fluttered like the wings of a bird as he spoke about where they were headed and the secluded booth he’d arranged for dinner.
“You shouldn’t have gone to all this effort.” Laken’s gut churned at the thoughts of a full evening trying to make conversation and steer away from the overt behavior that implied Laken could be dessert.
“It’s no effort at all.” The smile was predatory, and Laken searched the streets.
Where was Isley?
It was less than four minutes on foot to the restaurant.
White, that was Laken’s first impression while Louis spoke in French to the Ma?tre D’.
The furniture and the table coverings were all white, as were the walls.
Black and white framed photographs graced the walls.
He supposed to some it would come across as romantic, but to him it was pretentious and cold.
He followed behind Louis, who had no choice but to let go of his arm to thread through the tables, which were nearly all full, to get to a booth that overlooked where the chef was cooking.
There was no chair to escape to, leaving no option but to slide onto the padded white leather after Louis, who immediately plastered himself against Laken’s side.
His wolf growled in his head. Get him off us. I don’t like his smell, it's all wrong.
Laken had to agree; his preference was for citrus and cinnamon. The cloying scent Louis wore was more like rotten milk to his nose. He inched apart and took the menu from the Ma?tre D’, attempting to use it as a barrier.
It worked while they were waiting to order their food, but there was only so long he could delay.
The second Laken put it down, Louis was back.
He scrambled to come up with something that wouldn’t sound harsh but still get Louis to back off.
Isley was to blame for deserting him. He had never been any good at this, not having done much dating—as in, none.
He brought a hand up to run it through his hair in frustration when out of the corner of his eye he saw something small flying through the air and then hit the center of his palm.
Automatically, he closed his fingers around it then jolted at the feel of warm, silky fur rubbing against his skin and the realization that the tiny critter was Isley.
The scent was too familiar to deny the truth. Holy shit!
How did he know where to find them? Laken was at a loss. How the hell did he get in the restaurant in his shifted form? Laken hadn’t seen the door open since they’d arrived.
Laken didn’t know what to do when tiny fingers wiggled through his and wrapped around his index finger and clung on in the most adorable way.
It’s not adorable.
He lost all train of thought when something sticky on the tiny feet stroked against his palm and sent a shot of desire through him.
Self-consciously, he placed his hand in his lap, shaking it to get Isley off.
Unfortunately, those fingers were more effective than a pair of metal handcuffs keeping them together.
“—can I persuade you?”
Laken glanced at Louis in confusion, unsure how long he’d been trying to get Isley to let go. “Pardon?”
Louis wore a sulky pout. “You hurt my feelings, am I boring you?”
Yes, his animal stated.
“No, I’m just feeling a little off. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to cut the evening short. Please accept my apologies.” Laken rose, shoving the hand holding Isley into his trouser pocket and sliding out from behind the table.
Big fucking mistake. His dick took instant notice of how close Isley now was to it, and his nose was still full of Isley’s delicious aroma. He was so fucked right now when Louis’s predatory gaze dropped, and he licked his lips as if preparing to eat Laken for dinner.
So not happening.
“Please stay and eat, you can charge the bill to my company.” He gave a small nod, rushing on. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow with an update on the contract. Good evening.”
He was already moving as Louis opened his mouth as if to protest, only Laken wasn’t waiting around so others could notice the situation happening in his trousers. Or the possibility they’d notice he had a furry creature wrapped around his fingers that wouldn’t let go.
How was this his life?
Outside, he quickly strode back through the narrow streets, looking back twice to check Louis wasn’t following. By the time he reached their hotel suite, Laken’s shirt was clinging to his back unpleasantly and his body was on fire. Lights blazing, he stomped into the living area, cursing.
“What the fuck are you doing? We could have been arrested for this kind of behavior.” He didn’t know that, but he wasn’t thinking straight. He could have been arrested for lewd behavior the way his dick was fighting for freedom.
Taking off his suit jacket one handed was harder than it looked.
He grumbled and complained with Isley’s sugar glider clung on tighter as he wriggled out of the jacket, dropping it to the brocade chair he’d used earlier.
He opened his hand and stared properly at the furry creature that couldn’t have been much bigger than twenty centimetres.
The gray fur was silky soft, but it was the enormous eyes set in a tiny face that held Laken’s attention.
Intelligent eyes watched him with avid interest as he brought it closer to his face.
Then came the chirps, barks, and squeaks as if he was having a conversation with Laken. Almost like he was telling him off.
Amused despite himself, a grin tugged the corner of his lips. “You know I can’t understand sugar glider speak, right?”
The little animal’s feet swung up and being so close to Laken’s mouth, a miniscule foot swiped just inside his lower lip.
With no thought, his tongue swept over the tingling, sticky flesh, tasting cinnamon and citrus.
The moan he released sounded pained to his own ears as his straining cock leaked in his underwear.
It was confusing to feel this level of arousal when it wasn’t Isley but his animal in his hand.
It is Isley, his wolf insisted, and it would feel the same if we could shift.
The thought made him uncomfortable for reasons he didn’t want to think about when he had long ago made peace with the fact he couldn’t shift into his animal form.
“I need you to let go.” The animal clung tighter, that little foot aiming for his lip once more, but Laken moved his hand away to get another tirade—that’s what it sounded like—for his action.
“Please, Isley, I need to speak to human Isley.”
The little head burrowed into his hand, sad eyes looking up at him. Oh gods, how was he to resist that look?
He’d never been accused of being a sap, but right then that was exactly how he felt.
Held hostage by the tiniest creature he’d ever encountered, and he could do nothing about it.
He sat heavily in the chair and for want of anything better to do with his hand, he cradled it on his chest, his thumb stroking the soft fur, feelings surging inside him that made it hard to catch his breath.
“What are you doing to me?” he murmured, getting squeaks he didn’t understand in response.
He exhaled slowly, eyes drifting shut, and although he was rifle hard, the tension inside him slowly ebbed at the repeated fur rubbing. It lulled him into a hypnotic state of calm he’d not experienced since childhood. The question came again. “What are you doing to me?”