Microsoft Word - Jacks-Marcy-Hunted-and-on-the-Run.doc (4 page)

John had never wanted a hot shower so much in his entire life.

The formerly white-tiled walls, which had been stained yellow from years of smoking guests, the tiny sink, and super small bathtub were all fit for a king as far as he was concerned.

He stripped out of his clothes, and now that he was finally alone, his body seemed to give his cock permission to stand up straight.

He’d been fighting his erection for the last hour, traveling alone with Storm, so close to his mate. It had been hard on him.

The only thing that kept him from sporting wood right then and there was probably the fact that they were both on edge as they slowly got out of the woods and onto the highway. There was still the chance that the hunter Storm wanted John to spare would come back for them with backup of his own.

Hunters were known for being a breed of human that believed in bloody revenge.

Nothing came for them, thank God, and now that John was alone in the bathroom and getting naked, everything inside him was coming to life with the urge to get back into the other room and fuck Storm to the point where John’s scent would never leave him.

Never in his life had this happened to him, even when he was still going through puberty and so much as a shift in the wind would give him an erection. He’d never wanted sex so much before. He didn’t think it was possible for him to want it this much.

He jumped into the shower and turned on the spray. Even the
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sudden shock of cold before the water became hot wasn’t enough to make his cock wilt.

He put one hand against the shower wall to steady himself and wrapped the other around his pulsing dick.

He had to bite his bottom lip to keep the moan from escaping his throat. God, he really hoped Storm couldn’t hear him doing this. He stroked his dick slow, trying to draw out his pleasure, imagining Storm was touching him, that it was Storm’s hand, and the man was pressed up behind him, whispering hotly into his ear all the things he wanted John to do with him.

It didn’t take him long to come, but by then he couldn’t stop even the smallest of noises from leaving his throat. His hard breathing and bitten-down moans couldn’t be stopped. He prayed that the sound of the bathroom ventilation, along with the running water would be enough to keep Storm from hearing him.

John’s knees buckled, and he had to keep himself steady along the wall.

It took several seconds before his heart rate went back down to normal, and he was alone once more in the shower. Storm wasn’t in here with him, and it was John’s hand, and no one else's, wrapped around his cock.

He stayed under the spray for a few more minutes, using up most of the cheap little soaps and shampoos that were in the bathroom, hoping to wash away the scent of what he’d done before Storm could get in here. That and the bathroom’s ventilation should make sure that only John knew what had happened in here.

Realizing he was still worried that Storm might try and make a break for it, he got out, dried off, and put his clothes back on.

Storm was leaning against the wall when John stepped out, and he practically pushed John out of the way in order to get into the bathroom.

“Hey―”

The door slammed shut, and John only managed to yank his face
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back in time before the door cracked against his nose.

Shit, maybe Storm had heard him.

He went and sat on the bed, mortified with himself. There was no way Storm hadn’t heard what he’d done to have a reaction like that.

John was lucky he hadn’t bolted.

About two minutes later he heard a distinct sound coming from within the bathroom that not even the weak spray of water or the shuddering ventilation could mask.

With how close the bed was to the wall leading into the bathroom, it was a simple matter of leaning his ear just a little to the right.

Unless Storm was hissing and groaning over the water running over the long scratch that ran down his side, there was only one other thing he could be doing in there.

John’s cock got hard all over again beneath his jeans.

“Give it a rest already,” he snapped at himself, grabbing a pillow and stuffing in over his lap.

That had been a mistake, and he threw the pillow away quickly.

A knock on the door pulled him from his horny thoughts, and he quickly and silently padded his way over to the peep hole to see who was on the other side.

The pizza guy. Not hunters who’d been tracking them.

John opened the door and paid for the food, keeping his face down so the guy wouldn’t be able to give a proper description of him if anyone bothered asking him, but he also didn’t want to show off how red his cheeks still were.

They always turned bright red when he was embarrassed. He used to get made fun of for that like crazy as a pup.

He’d just set the pizza, wings, drinks, garlic bread, and cake on the table―a hungry wolf needed to eat―when the bathroom door opened.

Though he was fully dressed in the clothes that John had lent to him, there was something about watching him appear through the haze of steam behind him, his clean hair wet and loose, dampening
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the shoulders of the navy shirt he wore that was already clinging to him because the towels in there didn’t soak up much water at all, that made John want him even more.

The ventilation in the bathroom took away a lot of the scent of Storm’s lust, but John still caught the faintest whiff of it through the heavy steam.

He crumpled the empty paper bag in the hard fists he made. This was going to be the longest night of his life.

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“There’s something I should tell you,” Storm said.

John looked at him. He’d just taken a bite of his pizza, doing the classical thing where he pulled the pizza away from his face, stretching out the cheese. He quickly scarfed down his bite, wiped his mouth on a napkin, and cleared his throat. “What’s that?”

He could clearly be immature, but also serious when the time called for it. Storm appreciated that.

He took in a deep breath, hating himself for doing this again. He stared at the far wall when he finally managed to spit it out. “I owe you a life-debt.”

When there was no immediate response, he shifted his eyes to get a look at John’s face.

There was the normal confusion that came when admitting to something like this to another species who didn’t follow the same code of ethics, but unlike with Tony, there was no evil glee glinting in his eyes. He certainly wasn’t rubbing his hands together like he was hatching some sinister plot.

He’d also stopped staring at Storm like he wanted to jump his bones, but that had been earlier when he’d opened the pizza box and started filling up his paper plate with food.

Even then, it had seemed as though he’d been forcing himself to not look at Storm as much as Storm had been forcing himself not to look at him.

He’d been torturing himself with this while he’d showered. And did other things.

He’d only just been set free from another life-debt not even four
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months ago, and now he was about to admit to owing another one, knowing the sort of power it would give to the werewolf.

He’d gone for as long as possible without telling the man, but he couldn’t do it anymore. His conscience demanded that he pay back the life that John had given him.

John had saved his life from those hunters, and then spared the one Storm asked him to, so that mean that Storm owed him twice over.

He would be in debt to John, his servant, until the day when one of them died.

John looked as though he was still thinking over what it could possibly mean. It took him a few seconds before he finally spoke.

“Considering what it’s called, I can guess what it means. Because of the hunters?”

Storm nodded.

“Oh, well, don’t worry about it. I don’t want you to think that I only did that because―”

“You do not understand. This is a life-debt. You cannot simply release me from it. I have to pay you back in full.”

John’s brows rose. “How do you do that?”

Storm inhaled deeply through his nose, and then went back to staring down at his pizza and spicy wings. “Until I save your life, twice, or until one of use dies.”

“Why twice?”

“Because of the hunter I asked you to spare. You did, because of me, even after what he’d done.”

“Oh.”

They were both silent for a little longer, and then John spoke again. “What else do you have to do?”

Storm stiffened, shifting his one eye over to look at him. He was young and had a crass sense of humor, but clearly he was smart.

“Whatever you desire.”

Again, John’s eyes widened, and then they shifted down to look at
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the rest of Storm’s body from where he sat.

Storm went back to staring at the far wall, his hands, and then his pizza, anything but the man sitting beside him.

He knew what sort of ammunition he was giving John by saying that, but, like with Tony, he had no choice.

At least John, unlike Tony, was not a hunter. He might request sex, and Storm would be a fool if he did not admit that he was as interested as John clearly was, so he could hardly complain about that.

Storm would be treated better in this situation, at the very least, and not be expected to perform acts of violence on others.

“Was this what happened when you were with the hunters?”

The question was softly spoken, but it had all the strength of a coming fist striking Storm in the throat.

“Yes,” he admitted, swallowing around the pain.

His lust instantly vanished. Now more than ever he feared the other shifter. Storm was still weakened, and though John had been gentle with him when he’d helped him change his bandages, there was no telling what he would do now.

Storm was still trying to figure out just what it was that the other man wanted with him to begin with.

John sat back in his chair and eyed Storm speculatively. “I’ll bet that’s at least half the reason why you haven’t tried to run yet or fought me when I decided where we were going.”

Half the reason
, he’d said. Not
the
reason. He knew that Storm was in lust with him as much as John was with Storm.

Storm clenched his jaw. “I apologize for any and all inconveniences I might have…that I have taken part in when it came to your pack. You may do with me as you wish until you feel that a proper punishment has been served.”

“Jesus Christ! I’m not planning on punishing you,” John said. His eyes were wide again, but there was a sort of shocked horror on his face that hadn’t been there before.

“Is that what you think this is?”

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“What else could it be?”

John’s face became red again, but not in anger. Storm was shocked―and could it be he was also a little thrilled?―to see that John was blushing.

“Are you certain you’re an alpha?” Storm asked.

Now the red on his face had the unmistakable look of anger. “Of course I am!” he snapped.

Storm raised his hands for peace. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve just always imagined alpha werewolves as being, well, sort of above their emotions.”

John grumbled something so low that, even sitting beside him with his excellent hearing, Storm couldn’t make it out.

Then he picked up his voice. “You and I are mates.”

Storm jerked back. No, he had to have misheard that. “Excuse me? Can you say that again?”

“We’re mated.” John stared at him, his serious expression somewhat frightening for Storm to look at.

“That’s…” Storm shook his head. “No. That’s impossible. We’re men.”

“Yes, and we’re also mates.”

Storm refused to believe it. He shook his head as though that would somehow protect him from the truth of what John was saying.

“Don’t try and tell me you don’t feel it either,” John said. “For God’s sake, you and I were speaking telepathically out there when we were both in animal form.”

“I thought all werewolves could do that,” Storm said.

Now John was the one to jerk his head a little in surprise.

“Werecats don’t speak telepathically?”

Storm shook his head. “No.”

“Oh, well, werewolves can’t all do it either. Only the alpha of a pack can do it with the wolves he leads, and only two mated werewolves can do it with each other. I wouldn’t be able to do it with, say, Blasius. He’s one of the other members of my pack, and an alpha,
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but he’s not the leading alpha or mated to me, so I can’t speak to him telepathically.”

“And because you and I are mates, we can?”

John sighed and leaned back in his chair. He scratched the back of his head, thinking. “This is weird. I thought all shifters worked under the same rules, but I guess not. You see, there’s another pair of mates, Tristan and Isaac. Tristan’s an omega, but Isaac is human. They’re mated, but because Isaac is human, they still can’t do the telepathic thing.”

“But you and I can?”

“Right. I’m guessing maybe it’s because you’re a shifter who’s mated to a wolf, or maybe some of the magic bleeds into werecats even though you can’t do it with each other. I don’t know. I’m making this up as I go now and I really have no idea. The point is that you and I are mates, and I know you feel a pull to me, the same as I do to you. It’s spiritual and sexual,” he added, his face reddening again. John quickly looked down and grabbed one of the pizza slices from his plate, as though he could hide his face with it.

Something occurred to Storm just then. All the blushing, and his young age, it just sort of made sense when he said it.

“Are you a virgin?”

“No!” The defensive, immediate response was more than enough for Storm to know that John was lying.

It didn’t matter because they couldn’t be mates. “How is it possible? We’re men. The purpose of taking a mate is to reproduce and have kittens.”