Page 23 of Destined Prey
And Jack still clung to him with one hand, which made Ben happy. It gave him hope that this was more than a one-off. Then Jack opened his eyes and raised his other hand, which was spotted with cum, to his lips. Ben held his breath, and Jack began to lick his fingers clean, humming as if he truly liked the taste of Ben’s seed. Jack held the hand up to Ben’s lips. Ben had no problem with tasting his own cum. He’d done it before out of curiosity. He parted his lips and let Jack slide one finger in. Ben sealed his lips around it and sucked, hard.
“Fucccck,” Jack drawled, eyes nearly crossing. “You’re gonna make me hard all over again in record time.”
That seemed like a great idea to Ben. More sex, less talking, less worrying about Jack freaking out and running him off.
Jack leaned in, went up on his toes and licked Ben’s lips.
Ben almost gave into the impulse that hit him, almost shoved Jack onto the bed for a hard fucking.
“Do it,” Jack said in a low, urgent voice. “Don’t let me think.”
And that, more than anything else could have at the moment, doused Ben’s ardor. He turned his head, letting Jack’s finger slip from his mouth. “No. No, I don’t want to do something you don’t want fully.”
“I want you,” Jack said, “So what’s the problem?”
Ben wasn’t sure he even knew that himself. “It feels wrong if you just want me to fuck you so you don’t have to think. About what? About what I am?WhoI am?”
The words scraped on the way out, harsher than he intended, but the fear underneath was raw, that he was only a distraction, not someone Jack could actually choose once the haze cleared.
Jack groaned and turned away, or tried to, but his pants, briefs, and boots hindered him.
Ben kept him steady. “Hey. Is it so bad, knowing what I am?”
“I don’t think I’ve processed it yet. I can’t really believe it, any more than I can take in the mental babble-static stuff.” Jack bent and began tugging his clothes back up.
Ben tried his best not to let on that Jack’s words had hurt him. He envisioned a wall around his thoughts and emotions and hoped that kept them to himself. But even pride and not wanting to let Jack know he’d been hurt couldn’t keep Ben completely silent. “That’s not good enough, Jack. I’m not a fuck-toy.”
Jack finished getting his briefs and jeans in place before he responded. “I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t just go, oh, okay. Shifters exist and you’re one of them. Cool. Let’s have a happy ever after. I don’t work that way.”
Ben shivered against a chill that wasn’t entirely external. Inside, he was turning to ice. “And I don’t work the other way, like someone to be used.” Ben was just going to have torisk getting shot, because he wasn’t staying there with Jack for another minute, not when he wasn’t sure Jack wouldn’t hurt him verbally again. Leaving felt like tearing something vital out of his chest, but staying, begging, would be worse. Pride kept his spine stiff, even as his beast clawed at him for turning away. “I have a mechanic shop in town. Akers Automotive, on Sixth Street. You can find me there if you figure out what you want.”
“Wait,” Jack began, but Ben was done. He shifted and turned his head away from Jack. And it felt wrong. His coywolf didn’t like it. Ben ignored his beast.
“Fine. We both need time to think.” Jack put his shirt on. “Follow me to the back door. If you go out the back and around the two storage sheds, no one should see you. I’ll look first.” Jack peeked out from his bedroom doorway and saw that the coast was clear. “This way.” He led Ben to the back entrance. “Just let me make sure it’s safe.”
But as soon as Jack opened the back door, Ben squeezed past him, then he ran as if his heart depended on him making a quick escape.
Because Ben feared that it did. Every step away from Jack carried a weight in his gut, like distance itself was a wound. For the first time in his life, Ben didn’t feel like the survivor he’d always been, he felt like prey to his own heart.
Chapter Fourteen
“Did…did you just let a fuckingcoywolfout of our house?”
Jack spun around before Rhett finished the first word. “I—”
“What the fuck!” Rhett shouted, glaring. He turned and ran into the office. “What the fuck!”
Jack couldn’t blame him for being stuck on repeat. Everything that had happened in the last couple of hours was unbelievable. His pulse still rattled against his ribs. He wanted to defend Ben, to explain, but how do you package the impossible into a neat sentence? Even he wasn’t sure which parts he believed because of proof and which he clung to out of need.Scratch that. In the last several days, because this weirdness started with that attack at night. Or earlier, according to Ben.
Jack’s internal dialogue screeched to a halt when Rhett came out carrying two rifles.
“Here.” Rhett thrust one at him. Rhett’s eyes were cold and hard, and Jack knew he was ready to kill—and it’d be Ben who’d be killed, not some wild animal.
“No.” Jack pushed Rhett’s hand away. “Listen to me.”
“I don’t know how the fuck you got that thing out of the house,” Rhett said. “I hope it was the same one that was trying to kill cattle earlier. I hope there’s not a whole fucking pack of them waiting around here.” Rhett tried to hand him the gun again. “Come on, it’s getting away!”
“Rhett, stop. I don’t want the gun. Put them both up and let me explain,” Jack pleaded, clutching at Rhett’s forearm as he tried to get past Jack. “Please, I’m begging you here.” The desperation in his own voice stung. Not because he hated begging, but because he realized he was begging Rhett not just for Ben’s life, but for his trust. And that trust felt more fragile than it ever had between them. He’d screwed things up with Ben but didn’t think he could have avoided that. Too much had gone awry in his world, and he needed time to process it. He wouldn’t have a hope of reconciling with Ben—if that was what he decided to do—if Rhett killed him.
