Page 33 of Wolf Lost

He grabbed Sawyer’s hands in his, pulling them down to brace himself so he could fuck up into Sawyer, harder and harder. Sawyer stopped moving altogether, clinging to Dez’s hands with bone-cracking strength, and let out a wolfish whine as he came across Dez’s chest and belly.

Dez moved their entwined hands up to Sawyer’s hips and pressed them down hard, pushing his cock all the way into that perfect ass as he came. Stars burst on the edges of his vision, his whole body electrified, and he held Sawyer tight against him as he came inside.

He’d never come in anyone before, not without a condom. Something about it was decadent and primally satisfying. The base of his cock gave a strange tickle, like it was trying to move on its own.

For a fraction of a second, he worried about the knotting conversation they’d had. He didn’t know how to deal with that, and what if he messed it up, or hurt Sawyer, or—

But the warning tingle faded, and his body didn’t do anything terrifying or unexpected. He was at once relieved and disappointed. Hell, maybe as someone not born a wolf, he wouldn’t ever be able to do that. He hoped Sawyer wasn’t disappointed.

Sawyer didn’t feel like he’d been disappointed. He collapsed against Dez’s chest, right into the mess he’d made there, and for a long time, they stayed that way, breathing in sync. Dez could feel their hearts, beating barely out of time with each other, so it sounded like four beats in succession.

“We’re going to do that again, right?” Sawyer asked some time later.

Dez couldn’t help a chuckle at that. “Right this minute?”

Sawyer hummed thoughtfully, finally shaking his head a tiny bit without lifting it from Dez’s chest. “Nah. I’m good right here.”

“In that case, yes.” Dez finally let go one of Sawyer’s hands, so he could reach up and card a hand through the man’s hair. It was beautiful in the moonlight. It was beautiful in any light, but the moon made it practically glow. “Anytime you want, just not right now.”

Sawyer giggled against his chest. He didn’t move, muscles lax and spent, and Dez felt rather the same. It was good to see Sawyer so relaxed.

He had claimed to be unconcerned about the upcoming meeting with the Shane pack, but it was obvious that he was on edge. He’d been hypervigilant since he’d arrived, something they all knew well, and knew how to deal with. Since the Shane betas had visited, though, he’d refused to sit anywhere without his back to a wall.

He hadn’t wanted to go out to the hardware store with Dez, despite his apparent love for the place. Dez had even tried to bribe him with the offer of the crimson paint he wanted for the coffee shop walls, and it had done no good.

If he was worried they would let anyone force him to leave, he was worried for nothing. Dez knew his brothers, and the Shane pack would force Sawyer back to Bakersfield over their dead bodies.

On the other hand, maybe that was precisely what Sawyer was worried about. Sawyer had never seen them in a fight; he didn’t know what they were capable of.

Dez understood that the Shane pack had a few hundred members, but as Ash was always reminding them, werewolves were like anyone. They were children and accountants and garbage men. The Kismet pack weren’t like anyone else. They were fighters, and they were survivors. The Shane pack should be more worried about them than the opposite.

His hand spasmed in Sawyer’s hair, and he pulled it away, stifling a curse. When Sawyer didn’t move, Dez realized he was asleep, right there on Dez’s chest.

Maybe Sawyer was less worried than he’d been before. No one had ever fallen asleep on Dez before. Like everything about Sawyer, it was a welcome surprise.

19

Mr. Brightside

Staring in the mirror, Sawyer wished he’d asked for nicer clothes when they’d gone shopping for his small wardrobe. The shopping alone had been contentious enough, so he certainly hadn’t asked for more than he was given.

Mostly, it had been Ash trying to buy everything in the store that Sawyer so much as looked at, while Sawyer insisted that he wasn’t a charity case and put it back.

That had been before, though. Before he had spent weeks helping to build their future business. Before Sawyer had been truly pack. Before the full moon and Dez.

It had been a day and a half since then, and while they weren’t avoiding the subject, Sawyer hadn’t exactly moved into Dez’s room for good. He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. He couldn’t say, “I’d like to stay in your room forever, please,” and expect Dez to take him seriously.

Besides, he had about a week’s worth of clothes, and they were in drawers in the green room. It was just a bunch of jeans, Henleys, and flannel button-downs, because Colorado was a frozen hell, even in June. He’d picked the black jeans, since they could pass for something other than casual, but nothing else he owned made him look like an adult, let alone someone who should be taken seriously.

Maybe he needed one of those eighties pantsuits with the linebacker shoulder pads to make him look bigger.

“Absolutely not,” Asher said from the door to his room.

“What?”

“I don’t care if you’re sleeping with Dez now, wearing all black isn’t catching.” He crossed to where Sawyer was standing in front of the mirror with a black Henley and a red one, and tossed the black one on the bed. “You’re not allowed to start scowling at everyone, either.”

“They’re here to decide if I’m a child, Ash,” he protested. “If I show up in jeans and a bright shirt, doesn’t it prove them right?”

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