Chapter 2 #3
He could smell Virgil’s musky scent wafting over the wall, and it was strangely provocative.
Virgil worked in construction and home renovations.
People hired him when they were attempting to put up drywall or repair a chimney and realized it was beyond their capability.
Krys respected the hell out of him for it.
He stole a glance at Virgil’s ass.
Virgil often sang in the shower. Sometimes Krys would wait outside the door like it was his own private concert. Virgil could be a rock star if he wanted with his charismatic personality.
Krys turned away from the showerhead and rinsed his hair. His eyes fixed on Virgil’s back, and he bit his lip while stroking his fingers down the glass. Before disappearing in his thoughts again, he clicked open the shower door.
Virgil swiveled around and brushed against him as they traded places.
That split second of contact left an imprint on Krys, and while he dried his hair with a towel, he struggled with irrational feelings toward his packmate. “Did you lock the door when you came in?”
“Can’t hear you. And don’t yell. You’ll wake up Salem.”
Krys approached the shower wall while drying his hair. “Did you lock the front door?”
Virgil faced him on the other side, and he could make out everything except the sharp details. The way he soaped his chest in small circles, the tattoo on his lower leg.
“You should see someone about that compulsive behavior,” Virgil countered.
“It’s not compulsion; it’s safety.”
He snorted. “Lucian has cameras all over. Nobody’s sneaking in except the racoons.”
That happened two months ago when someone left the back door cracked.
A raccoon infiltrated their house through the magnetic screen door and demolished the kitchen.
Emptied the trash can, chewed through a box of cookies, knocked over the plants, and then scared the hell out of Robyn when she left the bathroom to investigate the noise.
“I take that as a no.” Krys turned away and dried off with a fresh towel. He squeezed the ends of his wet locks, steam clouding the air, the mirror fogged over.
“Don’t worry, lover boy. I came in through the back door.” Virgil chuckled quietly. “If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that…”
“Go check it when you’re done. I’m too tired. If someone gets killed because you left it unlocked, that’s on you.”
“Someday I’ll understand your paranoia, but today is not that day.”
After wrapping the towel around his waist, Krys padded down the hall to his bedroom. Melody and Lakota slept in the same hallway. Their room faced the front of the house, so they had windows. Krys didn’t, and he preferred it that way.
Once inside his room, he closed the door and shuffled through the darkness toward his bed.
He didn’t worry about stumbling in the dark, since there was nothing to bump into.
His dresser was inside the walk-in closet on the opposite wall, and his bed was to the right.
Other than a nightstand, he didn’t own furniture. It gave his wolf less to chew on.
He dropped the towel, pulled back the covers, and crawled in bed. Because he sometimes shifted in his sleep, Krys usually slept in the nude.
The cool sheets and soft mattress made him sigh with relief.
Spring always brought extra work with tilling the garden, planting, clearing out overgrowth, destroying wasp nests on the house and barn, and killing poison oak.
But today he’d spent the day searching for and loading flat stones into a cart before hauling them back to the house to be used as pathways or stepping stones.
Tak once said everything they needed was on the land for free.
After rolling onto his side, he remembered glancing at the scar on Virgil’s thigh when he entered the shower. That snakebite had almost killed him, and just thinking about it put a knot in Krys’s stomach.
Virgil had begged him to suck out the venom, which he did, even though it made him sick to his stomach. While Salem and Tak treated him, Krys’s wolf burst out. They later told him that he hadn’t left Virgil’s room for two days.
Two fucking days.
That blew his mind. Krys’s wolf didn’t like people, so he couldn’t fathom why his animal would’ve behaved so protectively. He hadn’t even guarded Archer back when he was going through mental struggles.
Krys rolled onto his back. When his thoughts quieted, he remembered their kiss—the one Virgil planted on him three years ago.
Although it was a ruse Virgil concocted to save their asses when Calvin caught them snooping around his office, Krys never saw it coming.
Virgil landed on him like a fighter jet making a tailhook landing on an aircraft carrier.
Then he whispered, “Play along” in his ear.
Though it happened years ago, he still remembered the firm grip of Virgil’s hand around the back of his neck, the hard edge of the desk against the back of his thighs as he gripped the edge.
When Virgil pressed into him, molding into his body like a fist in clay, a rush had come over him the instant their lips met.
While Krys understood the assignment, his emotions spiraled out of control at the feel of Virgil clawing at his leather pants.
Their kiss was passion and fire. When Virgil moaned into his mouth, an awakening took place. That kiss felt more right than any that came before. It was the kiss he had never imagined for himself, one that stirred a deep hunger within him.
His emotions had come to a crashing halt immediately afterward. The way Virgil behaved so nonchalantly left him confused and angry. Of course it was all for show and meant nothing, so why had Krys felt so rejected?
He put his arm over his forehead. Did he really expect Virgil to take it further, especially in front of an audience?
I’m sure every guy gets curious at least once.
Why the fuck do I keep dwelling on it? It’s been three years.
Maybe it’s all the mixed signals he keeps giving me, like walking into the shower tonight.
Or always hitching a ride on my bike. Or watching movies with me late at night, especially when he hates alien movies. We’re just friends. That’s it.
Virgil always tucked his hands in the crease of Krys’s thighs whenever they were out on the motorcycle. Virgil didn’t need to hold on, but the fact that he did made Krys drive faster. Not once did Virgil ever complain or ask him to slow down.
Did that mean something?
When his thoughts finally quieted, he drifted off to sleep. It felt as if he’d slept for hours in that peaceful silence.
Then, at some point after midnight, he awoke to a heated breath between his legs. His cock twitched, growing harder with each breath.
Am I dreaming?
When a tongue stroked his balls, he sucked in a sharp breath and snapped his eyes open.
The lamp was on, and someone beneath the covers had nestled between his legs, the sheet resting over his stomach so he couldn’t see them.
Fuck.
Their hot breath skated across his inner thighs before they started working him over at the base of his hard dick. Krys twisted the pillow in his hands and grunted to keep anyone from hearing. This wouldn’t be the first time either.
Lacy.
It wasn’t against the rules to bring people home, but Tak wasn’t a fan and discouraged it. Krys didn’t mind, since he hated people in his private space.
That said, Robyn occasionally invited her yoga clients for an overnight sleepover. She thought it was a fun way for the local girls to bond with the pack.
Yeah, they were forging bonds all right. After the women dozed off in the art room in their sleeping bags, one of them would tiptoe upstairs.
Lacy was into him, but he ignored her in public.
She was too loud and eager. But during those overnighters, she would sneak into his bedroom, climb into bed, and give him a blowjob.
He warned her about coming into his room at night because of his feral wolf, but Lacy was tenacious and a little desperate.
The danger probably turned her on.
As long as the lights remained off, Krys let her do… whatever.
Sometimes he got the feeling Robyn was trying to set him or Virgil up on purpose.
For one, the women she invited over were single.
And they were all eager to join a pack. Possibly she was clueless about the nocturnal activities upstairs and he was reading too much into it, but it wasn’t a topic he brought up.
Krys panted as if all the oxygen had left the room. The more she teased him, the more he realized this couldn’t be Lacy. She had a habit of moaning until he told her to shut up, but the girl working him over now knew all the right pleasure zones.
Whoever she was, she had a greedy mouth that wouldn’t quit.
Her hands massaged his hips while she tongued the crown. When her head rose beneath the covers, her grip around his shaft tightened.
Jesus. He hadn’t felt this turned on in forever. It was like she knew his body better than he did.
As soon as her lips warmed the tip of his dick, Krys flipped the covers away to hold the back of her head.
A mop of dark blond hair hung forward as she swallowed him so deep he could feel the back of her throat.
“Fuck… Don’t stop. Fuck!”
He swept her hair back, trying to see who it was. When she raised her head, familiar turquoise eyes were staring back. It wasn’t Lacy or any of Robyn’s friends—it was Virgil.
When Virgil slowly took him deeper, Krys twisted the pillowcase until it popped. Feathers exploded everywhere.
Krys shot up in bed and gasped. Out of breath, he stared into the darkness and stretched out a hand, but no one was there. Reaching out to turn on the light, he accidentally knocked over a water bottle from the nightstand. The light was so bright he squinted while focusing on his surroundings.
The door was closed, the lights were off in the hall, and there was no trace of anyone in the room. His heart pounded against his chest as he stared down at his full-blown erection.
It was only a dream.