Page 45 of The Good Boys Club

“The younger wolves will get semi-undressed and hang about in the corner, in case it’s the first night of their shift. They can get a bit giggly when all the boobs and dicks start flapping about, but you get used to it pretty quickly. Once you’re in wolf form, you’re naked anyway. And then everyone starts sniffing each other’s butts.”

I laughed, figured he was joking.

“I’m not kidding. It’s like butthole bonanza in that marquee. Like whack-a-mole, but with anuses instead of mole holes and snouts instead of squishy mallets. Hey, is it anuses or ani?”

I didn’t answer him. “Oh my gods. So I have to sniff all your relatives’ assholes?!”

“If you wanna fit in.”

“No, I don’t,” I whinged. “I don’t want to fit in. I’ll just be that strange guy who everyone side-eyes and goes,‘Oh, Mash’sboyfriend, he’s a bit weird, isn’t he? He didn’t rim me the second he met my wolf form.’”

“Oh, fuck off!” Mash spat, but he was still smiling. “Nobody rims anybody. But I bet it would feel amazing in wolf form, with those long canine tongues.”

I rolled my eyes. “And then what happens? After the colon inspections?”

“You’re wondering if I’ve ever been rimmed in my wolf form, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be a dick, of course not.” I said. Lied.

“I’m wondering that myself, too. It’s a shame I can’t remember much from my shifts.”

“Have you ever fucked anyone as a wolf?” I was certain I’d had this conversation with him before, but now that I knew Mash was keeping a secret from me, I wondered if there was anything else he was withholding.

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t. At least not here. Maybe at uni, but it’s all so hazy.” He pushed his hair off his face.

“Then what happens?” I asked.

Mash shook his head, obviously ridding himself of dog-sex thoughts. “Then we run wild!” he said, getting to his feet and spreading his arms out like wings.

“All night?”

“All night,” he repeated. “Wake up somewhere on the estate, naked and muddy and ravenous. Sometimes with blood on your hands and face, sometimes with random, healing injuries, or fox or badger shit all over your back. Some people have woken up with mate bites.”

“Fuck, that’s . . . scary. How can we stop that from happening?” I asked.

“You’ll have all your wits about you. You’ll be the only shifter in a sea of werewolves. If anyone tries to mate bite me, rip their throat open. I’m yours.”

The words “I’m yours” caught me off guard. They stung, like tape caught on tiny hairs. What I wouldn’t give to hear those words from his lips and know he truly meant them.

“Ooh, that reminds me,” he said after I didn’t respond to his comment. “We need to piss on each other before the shift, just to make sure the scent is really strong.”

“Piss on each other?”

He huffed, and flipped me off. “Not actually piss on each other, you tit. You know, dab dab, splash splash?” He mimed patting something on his neck like he was using a powder puff. “Though, mind you, that is what real mates do.”

I decided to ignore everything I’d learned in the past minute. “Okay, moving on. So, then you just all crawl back to the marquee naked, and what?”

“Shower, get dressed, have another scran-up. You’ve heard of the saying hungry like the wolf? You’re gonna get back to that tent and there’ll be meats and veggies and potatoes and cakes . . . all sorts.”

“Who gets all that ready?”

“Oh, yeah. You will, I guess. If you want to, that is, with Clem and the kitchen staff. They do all the prep during the day and then, as soon as we get back from the shift, we have a feast. The old wolves—the ones who’ve lost their shifts—stay behind to look after the babies and kids, and they’ll move everything from Clem’s refrigerated trucks to the banquet tables.”

“Wow, it’s a serious operation.”

“Yeah, it really is,” Mash said. “That’s why all the other packs come to us. Because Nana and Clem have this down to a fine art.”

“Someone talking about me?” came a woman’s voice from the square of light in the attic floor.

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