Blood Howl (17 page)

No, Redford wasn’t exactly full of bright ideas right now. Struggling to get his breathing under control, he leaned his forehead against Jed’s chest, hoping he wasn’t digging bruises into his arm. There was less noise here, but the scents were still confusing and overwhelming, too many of them to sort through and understand. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “You can’t even take me out. I’m not the best company.”

They’d paused in a dark hallway, made of long curtains, that separated them thinly from the press of people. Jed ran his hands up and down Redford’s arms, callused fingers sending whorls of goose bumps in their wake. “What, this? This is so not taking you out,” he murmured, bending his head to let his lips brush against the curve of Redford’s ear. “I could take you out, darlin’, don’t you worry.” His thumb arced back and forth against the sensitive curve of his inner elbow. “In fact, that’s what I’m going to do right now. You ready to get out of here?”

Yes, Redford was definitely ready to get out of here. He still felt guilty for making Jed leave something that he’d obviously been enjoying, but he was grateful. “Where are we going?”

The only answer he got was Jed’s smile—again, one of the soft ones, the gentle ones, the kind that made Jed look so much younger, so very vulnerable—as he led them out of a side door and back out to the parking lot. They didn’t drive long, the windows down to let in the faintly chilly breeze, and Jed even let him have control of the radio. He claimed it was because nothing good was playing anyway, and therefore he would forfeit his God-given right to choose the station, but Redford didn’t miss the way he watched, interested, to see what he would pick. After a few minutes of fiddling with the controls, Redford eventually settled on something quieter, with acoustic guitar.

Jed told him that it was “country.” Redford liked it. Jed muttered something about it being a good thing he was cute before huffing out a sigh and mournfully shaking his head.

The singer sang about losing his house, and Redford relaxed, watching out the window again. He breathed in deeply, surrounding himself with Jed’s familiar scent, taking the time to calm down from the chaos and get grounded. Jed apparently didn’t like country music, but he’d said Redford had control of the radio, so there it stayed, the singer moving on to other topics, like his dog dying and similar tragedies.

On second thought, maybe Redford didn’t like country music so much.

With a sigh, he switched the radio off. He wasn’t sure what the point of singing about losing everything was, but Jed seemed relieved that it was gone. They drove in silence for a few more minutes before Jed pulled into another parking lot, this one bearing a very different sign.

“We’re going to the zoo?” Redford had never been, but he knew what a zoo was, at least.

Switching off the engine, Jed turned to him, shifting slightly in his seat in what, if it wasn’t Jed, might be considered insecurity. “Too on the nose?” He winced. “It’s just, it’s a school day, so it’ll be quiet, and I don’t know, I like to wander around here sometimes. We can go somewhere else if you’d rather.”

Redford found himself smiling. He reached out to take Jed’s hand, twisting their fingers together. “I’ve always wanted to go to a zoo,” he confided quietly. “I’ve only ever seen pictures of them.” He could see why Jed would hesitate. It was a place full of animals in cages, like Redford was every four weeks, except the animals in the zoo had much nicer cages and got fed regularly. Still, Redford really had always wanted to go. “Are you sure it’s okay? I mean, the gun show was for weapons, I understand that, and you said it was safe, but the zoo—”

The awkwardness faded from Jed’s face, and he was smiling that
smile
again, leaning in to gently press his lips to Redford’s. He looked twice as startled as Redford was over the intensely sweet touch. “We’ve got time to kill. And being unpredictable is good. Makes it hard for someone to follow us without me noticing.” He paused, studying Redford’s face, a flicker of something vulnerable hiding in those brilliantly green eyes.

That sounded logical. Redford might not get this whole “being followed” thing, but he trusted Jed. He nodded, squeezing Jed’s fingers. “The zoo sounds good.”

“Okay,” Jed whispered, still looking incredibly unsure. “Well, then. Let’s go to the fucking zoo.”

Chapter Ten

Jed

J
UST
a little news flash—werewolves were real. Big furry dogs with the teeth and the claws and the only coming out at the full moon? Oh, yeah. Very, very real. Which was kind of a lot to wrap anybody’s brain around, but when said werewolf was the guy you were kind of whatever with, it added a whole new dimension to things. Jed was trying not to think about it. Which, matter of fact, was working out fine for him. Probably because Redford was so…
Redford
, was so utterly benign, it was easy to forget what he’d turned in to.

What Jed hadn’t told him was that he’d been scared. All night. Sure, it’d turned out that a little alpha dog posturing and Red was happy as houses, but there had always been that fear. All it’d take was for the wolf to realize that he out-muscled Jed, that those fangs weren’t made for kissing daisies, and everyone would have been in a world of hurt. Hell, who knew if the next time Jed’s act would work so well? Alpha he was not, and he liked it that way. Every relationship—if you could call them that—had him so far on the bottom he was licking toes, and quite frankly, Jed felt comfortable there. At least then he knew his place; at least then he was almost
seen
.

Whatever the fuck this was, this thing, this growing, evolving emotion that tightened in his chest whenever he got close to Redford, it wasn’t his usual. It wasn’t him submitting and begging for scraps. It was something bigger and more terrifying than that. Wasn’t near as simple, either.

And right then, it had him smack dab in the middle of the monkey exhibit, with Redford holding onto his hand, staring in utter delight.

Sounded like the punch line to a joke, really. Except Jed was anything but laughing. Redford’s fingers felt strong and sure laced through his own, a little jolt of surprised heat skittering down his spine every time Red’s thumb arced along his skin. This was horribly domestic and borderline diabetes-inducing, but there wasn’t a damn place in the world he’d rather be. Which was almost as scary as a big fucking werewolf trying to take off his head.

Buck was his type. End of story. The guy was
his type
, was the only type of guy he’d ever been attracted to, and he was a
hell
of a lay. Yet here he was, at the goddamn
zoo
instead of getting fucked in the backseat of Buck’s very large limo. Why? Because instead of keeping his deliciously huge hands to himself, Buck had decided to start eye-fucking Redford. The thought of it still made something sick twist in Jed’s belly. So instead of enjoying the kiss, he’d been busy restraining his urge to shoot Buck in the face. Kind of put a damper on the mood.

Not that there had really been a mood. The whole time he’d been manhandled and leered at, all Jed had really wanted to do was grab Redford and leave. Hell, he hadn’t even wanted the flirting, any of it, for the first time since he’d hit puberty.

Christ, his life was so messed up right then.

“Did you know that gorillas, chimpanzees, and orangutans can all catch colds, but monkeys can’t? And once, in South Bend, Indiana, a monkey was tried and convicted for smoking a cigarette in public.” Redford was as alive as Jed had ever seen him, a smile curling up those bewitching, full lips. He was engaged, confident, looking utterly delicious in a faded green sweater and jeans, unknowingly showing off his shoulders and the slim taper of his waist. He’d been eagerly spilling encyclopedia facts about every animal they’d stopped and seen, grinning at the lion roaring, utterly entranced by the snakes in their glass houses. Jed had been to the zoo a thousand times before, liking the fact he could sit alone and watch, collect his thoughts, and not seem out of place. But this was the first time he actually felt like he was participating in what it was intended to be.

“Come on,” he urged, tugging Redford after him with a little smile. He’d been giving away those smiles for free lately. Not that he was a gloomy guy normally, but he usually hid behind the big, charming grin, the leer, flirting and making damn sure he didn’t give away anything of importance. With Redford though, it seemed like he couldn’t help but be real. And real meant
vulnerable
, which could be a damn big problem. “I want to show you something.”

The wind as they emerged from the protected walls of the primate house was just chilly enough to send a shiver along Redford’s shoulders. Jed wasn’t exactly oblivious most of the time. Well, not about stuff that mattered—reading a target’s stride, knowing if a guy was into his flirting, picking up on the subtle cues in a fight. Sometimes the finer points of human interaction got lost on him, but for the most part Jed liked to imagine himself as pretty perceptive. Still, the way he was so focused on Red was a little baffling. Before Redford could even articulate his thoughts on the weather, Jed was shrugging off his leather jacket, wrapping it around the other man’s shoulders with a half-formed, rueful smile.

Jesus, he was so whipped.

They made their way up a ramp, alone in the nearly deserted zoo. It wasn’t late enough in the day for the mothers of young children to be out yet, not early enough for the senior crowd. It was the nice in-between time when Jed could imagine they were the only people in the world. A particularly nice thought, really. Leading Redford into a dark, fake cave, they ducked their heads under an overhang and emerged in front of a large glass tank. For a moment there was nothing but the murky quiet, the dark water still and silent in front of them.

“Jed, what—”

Jed held up his hand with a slight smile, nodding toward the glass. Redford turned, the puzzled look still on his face, to be confronted by the contented Zen smile of a polar bear. The bear was huge, gliding through the water like he was weightless, nodding happily to himself as he made a lazy arc back toward the surface.

“Oh.
Wow
.”

Feeling quite proud that his second attempt at a day out had been a hit—completely making up for giving Redford a panic attack, he hoped—Jed looped his arm around Redford’s waist, letting the other man sink easily into his side. That was the trouble, really. They
fit
so damned well that it was almost impossible for Jed to keep his wits about him. That Redford was so far outside of his type was just one in a very,
very
long list of reasons why this was a horrible idea. Yet here they were, cuddling and watching the polar bears play.

“I love polar bears,” Redford murmured, his voice a husky, low rumble that sank in under Jed’s skin and refused to let go. “They’re so graceful under the water. And they disappear. Did you know that they’ll put snow on their noses so that you can’t see them against the drifts? That’s so smart.” Red was beaming happily, completely unaware how
gorgeous
he was. Those eyes that dipped into blue and gray, the strong curve of his jaw, the slim strength that lurked under the shy smile, so completely unlike anyone Jed had ever made time with, and yet he couldn’t seem to shake him.

Softly, Jed found his free hand going out to trail along the scars that curved through Redford’s skin, pale and angry against the sweet innocence of his face. From the bridge of his nose, his fingertips slid down to his jaw, and Jed was all at once breathless. Eyes wide, surprised still at how such a simple thing could affect him, Jed hooked his fingers around the back of Redford’s neck and tugged him forward, meeting him in a kiss.

Slow and gentle, Redford parted his lips under Jed’s, and the thrill of his tongue tasting Jed’s mouth shot through them both. With a quiet groan, Jed’s hand dropped to grasp Redford’s hips, pulling the man closer, sinking into the heat of his body pressed tight to his chest. Every time they touched, Jed lost all track of time. There wasn’t anything that existed but the press and weight of him, but the warm heat of his mouth and the soft slide of his hands on Jed’s body.

The glass of the tank was cool against his back, and Jed grinned a little into the kiss. Redford was getting demanding, pushing him back, getting a better grip with his hands curled into the sides of his shirt. God, did he like that. “Babe?” he murmured, tipping his chin back when Red decided to explore his throat with a surprisingly nimble tongue. “Not that I mind making out in public, cause I really don’t, but you realize—”

“There’s no one here,” was Redford’s reply, a faint pant of air, nerves and lust warring together, making his voice crack.

“No, there’s not,” Jed agreed, intent, smile fading as a sharp rush of
want
made his head spin. Redford leaned forward, daringly pressing his mouth to Jed’s, their tongues coming together in an explosion of wet, heated need. Pressing and tangling, Jed sucked lightly on Red’s, smirking at the low gasp that got tangled up in the next growl. Jed was shoved back again, Redford’s eyes dark with arousal, and he would have sworn there was a glimmer of yellow buried there in the dim light.