His mother had given him that jacket.
Leaning back in his seat with one hand on the wheel, feeling tired and drained, Carter felt a tingling in his balls that had him biting out a curse. He groaned in exasperation when a second later his cock started to swell. The turgid length pressed against the bloody denim of his jeans, hard and throbbing andinsistent.
Just what he needed. Sometimes having the libido of a werewolf in his prime was a fucking curse. Carter reached down and adjusted his traitorous cock, knowing that no matter what he did it wouldn’t go down until he’d shot his load. His wolf was flying high on adrenaline and victory, and now it wanted to celebrate. It didn’t care that Carter’s plans to prove himself to the pack had just been ground to dust.
For just a moment Carter considered finding himself a partner for the night—someone to fuck and take apart and dominate—but he quickly put that idea out of his mind. He’d have to travel all the way to Builder Falls to find what he wanted, and even then it wasn’t a sure thing. Better to go home and settle for just a hot shower, his hand, and a bottle of vodka.
He envied his fellow pack members who had someone waiting for them at home.
Carter spent a moment wishing he had someone waiting for him too—someone that was his—but like always he pushed that desire down. Wishing for something he couldn’t have would do him no good.
It was difficult not to fantasize, though. He pictured himself sinking his rock hard cock into the tight heat of a willing hole, fucking it rough and hard until he was a sweaty mess, hands bruising as they clutched the hips of the bottom submitting to him… The mental image made his mouth water and his balls feel tight.
Squeezing his hard cock through his jeans, spreading his legs and tracing the length of his cock against his thigh with his palm, Carter unbuttoned his fly and released his throbbing shaft.
Fuck that felt good.
Cock springing free of its denim prison with a bounce against his abs, Carter quickly took his massive member in hand and let the solid weight rest in his palm. He jerked himself off, one hand steady on the wheel, taking his time as he massaged his length with slow and steady strokes. His cock was warm and hard, and though his own calloused palm wasn’t what his wolf wanted, it still felt wonderful.
Sliding his hand up and down his cock, pre-cum lubing the way, Carter shifted his grip slightly and imagined that it was someone else jerking him off. If he kept his eyes on the road he could almost feel them sitting next to him. Their scent would fill the interior of the truck, hints of wood and leather and sweat flavoring the air, and just thinking about it made Carter’s cock throb against his palm and his balls pull up tight.
Breathing fast and short, Carter jerked himself faster and faster, glad that the height of his truck kept him out of view of the cars around him. The pleasure built and built like a crescendo, and when Carter rubbed his thumb over his slit he erupted into orgasm. The intensity of the feeling had his boot pushing down on the gas, and Carter cursed as he almost rammed into the car in front of him.
He lifted his boot just in time to avoid a collision.
Breathing hard, Carter’s load was still spilling out of his cock when the car behind him started honking and he realized that he’d slowed down to well under the speed limit. He pushed down on the accelerator, forcing himself to concentrate on his driving.
The come drenching the front of his shirt was sticky and wet, the smell filling the interior of the truck, and Carter slumped back in his seat. It felt good, and the scent of his own release mixing with the blood of his enemies was oddly pleasing. Not as good as it would smell if it were sprayed all over someone he wanted to fuck, overlaying their scent like a brand of ownership, but still…pleasant.
He wondered what that said about him.
Wiping his hand on his shirt, Carter put his hand back on the wheel and waited until his cock was soft before tucking it back into his jeans. It was still sensitive, and Carter shifted uncomfortably at the intense feeling.
Having satisfied the demands of his libido Carter turned his full attention to the road. There were about forty minutes left until he reached Forest Hill, which gave him plenty of time to shed the afterglow of his orgasm and brood over what had gone wrong with his plan.
Wiping his still sticky hand off on his jeans, Carter sighed. He should have jerked off longer.
Turning on the radio, Carter tuned in to a classic rock channel and let the music distract him from his thoughts. He sang along under his breath, tapping his fingers on the wheel to the beat, though he couldn’t get his mind to stop replaying the meeting and subsequent fight.
Turning the radio up, Carter forcefully turned his mind to other matters. His job was the first thing that came to mind. Carter had been severely neglecting his clients over the past few months, and there were several who would need some special attention before they forgave him. The thought made him cringe. His clients were wealthy and spoiled, and they were not used to being ignored.
Carter hated them with a passion.
The way Carter channeled his dominance and leadership instincts into his work made him one of the most effective and sought after lawyers in the state, and his firm was growing in both size and profit despite the tough times. These days, however, most of Carter’s personal clients were people with too much money on their hands who liked telling people that their family lawyer was a werewolf. Carter forced himself to grin and bear it. He charged an absurd retainer fee and in return had to do very little work—letting him focus on managing the firm and dealing with pack matters.
It was worth it.
All it would take to make matters right was a few one on one lunches in whatever restaurant was hip at the moment. Carter normally didn’t indulge his clients’ requests for lunch or dinner meetings unless they had actual work for him, and offering them the chance to be seen with him now would make them forgive him in a heartbeat.
Though actually sitting through the meetings was going to beexcruciating.
By the time he’d decided what to do about his clients Carter had reached Forest Hill. He turned the music off, debating with himself if he should take the time to stop at a drive through somewhere up ahead and get some food, when he saw the exit sign for Rabbit Creek.
That was Luke Wolfman’s neighborhood, his mind supplied.
The thought made him think about Luke’s strange little witch. The boy was short and undeniably attractive, though there was something unsettling about the fact that he could set you on fire with little more than a thought. He’d seemed pleasant enough when Carter negotiated with him, but something must have happened because Grayson was terrified of him.
Carter had almost passed the exit when it occurred to him that the wards Owen had strengthened just a few weeks ago had completely failed. The Texas pack had just pushed right through them, their ill intent not even making the magic boundary twitch.
