With Abandon: With or Without, Book 3 (9 page)

Oh God, how horrible.
Matt was chilled too, but not because of the weather. “I’m so sorry.” He wanted to ask how Jordan’s mate had died, but he obviously didn’t want to talk about it. What must that be like? Matt had just found his mate, but already he knew he wouldn’t want to be without him…not like that at least. He wanted to call Aubrey, to talk to him and make certain he was okay.

“Er, thanks. I can’t believe I blurted that out. You’re so easy to talk to,” he grumbled. Shrugging, he lightened his tone. “I try to look on the bright side. At least now I get to pick my mate.” Stuffing his hands in his front pockets, Jordan continued out to the parking lot, keeping pace with Matt.

Once, he’d have thought getting to pick was the better deal too, but now he wasn’t so sure. He touched Jordan’s arm, slowing their forward progress. “If you need someone to talk to…”

Stopping, Jordan furrowed his brow and stared right at Matt.

A whiff of uneasiness tickled Matt’s nose and disappeared. Oh no, he hadn’t meant to make Jordan more uncomfortable.

Jordan stayed there for several seconds, then the corner of his mouth inched up, so slight it was almost unnoticeable. “Thank you,” he whispered. Shaking his head again, he started walking. “Having a guy for a mate was a headache I didn’t need. No one would have understood.” Jordan hitched his backpack farther up on his shoulder. “What about you?”

“My dad is the coolest guy on earth. He’d rather cut off his arm than force me to be something I’m not.” He couldn’t imagine not being himself. His chest burned with empathy. Poor Jordan. He’d lost his mate and he had to hide his true nature.

“You’re lucky. What about your friends and pack? What about the guy you’re living with? Does he know you’re gay?”

“Aubrey? Yeah, he knows. I think my pack knows too and—” Matt bit his bottom lip, embarrassed to admit that he didn’t really have any friends. Tara was sort of his friend, but she was Aubrey’s friend first, so did that count?

“And?”

“And I don’t have any friends who aren’t family or pack.” Matt’s cheeks heated.

“If I find a gay bar, you wanna go with me?” Jordan asked with a hint of amusement.

Maybe Matt
did
have a friend. “No way. You’re on your own, dude.”

Jordan chuckled. “You’re really cute when you blush.”

Matt groaned just as the chime indicating he had a text went off. Saved by the bell. He retrieved his phone.

There was a message from Tara.
Get home, it’s about to come a gully washer.

Matt blinked and read it again. “What the heck is a gully washer?”

Jordan grinned. “A rainstorm, and it’s pronounced gully worsher, not washer.”

As Matt stepped into the apartment, thunder rattled the glass and lightning crackled across the sky. “Good God.” It sounded awfully loud this high up. He tossed the motorcycle keys on the table in the foyer and dropped his backpack on the couch. Talk about timing.

He crept closer to the wall of windows. Something about the ominous clouds lent an otherworldly feel to the room. The way the apartment was dark except for the dim light of outside was mysterious, maybe even a little spooky. It grew darker by the second. Black thunderheads dominated what was left of the clear afternoon, and he had a perfect view of the quickly approaching rain.

The phone rang as Matt started to sit on the floor. “Ack.” Matt slapped a hand to his chest. “Geez.” Backtracking, he snagged the phone and a pillow off the couch. The caller ID read:
Ridgecrest
, Corde.
Corde? Wasn’t that the wolf who peed on the other guy’s house?

Matt pushed the talk button before the phone rang a second time. “Hello?”

“Hello? Is Aubrey there?”

“Aubrey isn’t home yet. Can I take a message and have him call you back?” Matt rounded the dining-room table and tossed the pillow on the floor right in front of the window. The beauty of nature loomed before him, and his excitement grew. The hairs on the backs of his arms stood on end with all the electricity in the air.

“Are you the guy who helps Aubrey’s brother with the pack kids in his new pack?”

Matt winced. He should chastise the other wolf for mentioning wolf culture without knowing to whom he was speaking. He didn’t want to end up a lab rat because of a newly made wolf’s carelessness. But it wasn’t his place. He settled himself on the floor on his stomach. “Yes. I’m Matt. Corde, right? You called last week?”

“Yeah. Umm… Hi, Matt.” He hesitated for only a breath and started again. “You heard about the situation the other night?”

“I did. How’d that turn out?” Hmmm, maybe he’d found at least one way he could help lessen the load in his mate’s life. This was a way for him to be useful.

“Well, that’s why I’m calling.”

Lightning struck a high rise across the street, or rather the rod on top of it, making Matt flinch. Was it safe to be this high up in such a storm?

“Jase still isn’t speaking to me.” Corde didn’t sound happy about it.

Matt wasn’t surprised. Just from what he’d learned the other night he’d surmised that Jase was a stickler for werewolf etiquette. “Try taking him a steak.” Matt pressed his forehead against the cool glass, trying to look down to street level.

“Seriously?” Corde sounded incredulous.

“Yes, seriously. When you take it to him make sure you offer your neck in submission as you apologize.”

“I’m not submissive.” The grumbling tone shouted proud redneck about as loudly as the peeing incident.

Matt suppressed a chuckle, knowing Corde wouldn’t appreciate it. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the more experienced wolf. You were made, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a respect thing. He sees you as a less-dominant and less-experienced wolf, which is probably why he didn’t accept your apology. Trust me. I come from a long, proud line of wolves. I know wolf culture inside and out.” Wolves were a lot like children at times. Through trial and error, Matt had learned that when dealing with kids and wolves, keeping things simple was often the best approach. Both kids and wolves dealt in emotion and instinct first, logic second.

“Okay, I’ll try that. Can I call you back if it doesn’t work?”

The lights from the surrounding buildings came on as the darkness took over the sky completely. Mesmerized, Matt nodded and realized he was on the phone.
Doofus.
“Sure.” Matt gave Corde his cell number and told him goodbye.

“Thanks.” The line went dead.

No sooner had Matt hung up the phone the front door clicked open.

“Matt?”

“In here.”

A light flicked on, adding a tiny glare to the window, and keys jangled. “I’m glad you got home before the rain started.”

Rolling onto his back, Matt watched Aubrey stroll toward him. “Tara texted me and demanded I head home to avoid the gully worsher.”

Aubrey hesitated for a second, then he chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He set down his laptop case and continued toward Matt with a box in his hand. “She teaching you the local dialect too?”

“Yep. She show is,” Matt teased.

Aubrey snorted. “That’s Tee for you. She’s show nuff a reg-lar jawjah peach.”

Wow, that accent was hot. It wasn’t in the least fake sounding coming from Aubrey like it had been when Matt was doing it.

“It’s a great view, isn’t it?” Aubrey sat beside Matt and stretched his legs out in front of him, to where his feet were even with Matt’s head. He set the box on the ground next to them.

“It’s gorgeous.” Matt sat up, wanting to greet his mate, but not knowing how or what Aubrey expected. They were very close now and already Matt’s heart raced with the thrill of his mate’s nearness. “What’s in the box?”

“A surprise.” Shrugging off his suit jacket, Aubrey started on his tie. When both pieces of clothing lay on the floor, he loosened the top two buttons on his shirt. A small patch of blond hair poked out of the dress shirt. Matt had yet to see his mate shirtless and he wanted to. Aubrey’s muscle tone was obvious by his wide shoulders, but knowing and seeing were two different things.

“For me?” Matt licked his lips and shook his head. His throat was suddenly dry.

“Oh damn, sugar.” Aubrey groaned and caught the back of Matt’s neck, dragging him close. He slanted his mouth over Matt’s and swept his tongue between Matt’s lips.

The kiss mirrored the storm blowing outside, the intensity fierce. Matt’s cock hardened and his teeth lengthened. The desire flared into a burning need.

With little urging, Matt straddled Aubrey’s lap. He wrapped his arms around his mate’s shoulders, throwing himself into the kiss. His cock ached for attention, and his heart pounded. His body had a mind of its own. The arousal consumed him, and he yearned to ease it.

The intense longing frightened him as much as it made him ache. With one last swipe of his tongue, Matt pulled back, panting.

Aubrey moaned, still holding Matt’s face. His breath painted across Matt’s chin. They stayed motionless, only their chests heaving in and out. The way Aubrey held his face so tenderly, comforted as much as it inflamed. Matt could almost let himself believe this was special and that Aubrey cherished him.

A loud crack of thunder rattled the windows.

They both started, and Aubrey chuckled.

Finally, Matt opened his eyes. A drop of dark liquid welled on Aubrey’s bottom lip where his fangs peeked out.

Aubrey blinked, and his eyes shrank back to normal.

Matt’s own eyes had changed and the lust still pulsed through him, demanding to be assuaged. Shame at having been so weak as to give in to his instincts gnawed at him. He swiped his thumb across Aubrey’s mouth, wiping away the blood. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” A smirk curved Aubrey’s lips. “But you have got to stop attacking me like that.”

“Me?” Matt chuckled and began to relax. The playful tone of Aubrey’s voice worked wonders on Matt’s discomfort. He crawled off his mate’s lap, determined to ignore the throbbing ache in his groin and in his chest.

“Yeah. I’ll give you what I bought you anyway. No need for payment,” Aubrey teased. Reaching into the cardboard box, he pulled out a little black plastic thing.

“What is it?”

Aubrey pointed it at Matt’s shirt and pushed a button.

“Lavender,” the thing announced.

“Oh wow. How cool. It tells colors?”
Wait.
Matt frowned. He had on a light blue shirt. He groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead. “My shirt is lavender?”

Aubrey’s eyes twinkled with mirth, and he nodded.

“Gee, I can’t wait to see what color my pants are.” Matt snatched the color detector out of Aubrey’s hand.

Aubrey laughed and flopped backward on the floor.

“It’s not funny.” Matt put the identifier to his pants.

“Khaki,” the synthesized voice said.

“Well, that’s a relief. Does lavender go with khaki?”

Wiping tears from his eyes, Aubrey nodded. The fiend was still laughing.

Matt couldn’t help it, he started giggling himself. How cool was this? And how cool was it that Aubrey bought it for him. A warm happy feeling trickled through him, and he held the box up to his arm.

“Pale orange.”

“Pale orange?” Smiling, Matt shook his head. This was fun.

“Oompa-Loompa doompadee doo…” Aubrey started chortling so hard he snorted.

“Knock it off, shorty. If anyone is an Oompa-Loompa it’s you.” Matt pressed the color indicator to Aubrey’s ankle where his slacks had ridden up past his definitely black socks.

“Beige.”

Snickering, Matt nudged his mate’s leg with his foot. “Oh good, you’ll go nice with the drapes.”

Aubrey laughed, but no sound came out. “How—do—you—know—?” He was liable to have a seizure if he kept it up.

How would he know indeed? Matt groaned and joined in the laughter.

Aubrey’s face darkened.

If Matt thought he or Aubrey could survive it, he’d have tested their hair color.

It took several minutes, but finally they both stopped laughing. Matt was winded and worn out. “Thank you. This is way cool.”

“You’re welcome…” Aubrey sat up and kissed Matt on the lips. “Oompa-Loompa.”

Aubrey’s prick was so hard he was beginning to think it was frozen that way. He couldn’t remember ever being this sexually frustrated. Hell, even as a teen a few minutes alone took care of it, but jerking off in his office bathroom before he came home hadn’t dampened his lust. Matt’s scent just riled him up again.

He dropped his head on the cool granite countertop and rolled his forehead on it. Maybe he could talk Matt into a mutual handjob or something? No, the plan was to keep from hurting Matt when this thing ended. Sex would make it more difficult. Matt wasn’t the type to engage in casual sex.

Aubrey glanced up at Matt as he flipped the pieces of fish in the pan like a professional chef and set it back on the burner. Gawd, did everything Matt do have to be so fucking sexy? “Where did you learn to cook?”

Leaning on the cabinet next to the stove, Matt grinned. “My dad. He’s a great cook. He insisted all of us learn. Which has kept us from starving a few times, when Dad is sick or goes out on the rare occasion, because I swear my mom can’t even boil water. How about you? This…” he swung his hands out indicating the kitchen, “…is not the kitchen of someone who doesn’t cook. Because, your brother? I think he’s an even worse cook than my mom.” He chuckled.