“Eh, fuck off. She’s very private. And you don’t like my seaside abode. You’ve told me often enough.” He shook his head when Baxter offered him a blood bag. “I thought we could go out together. I’d rather leave Melody knowing she’s fed properly.”
Baxter glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You insinuating I won’t look after your friend? I’m proper offended. Besides, she’s a big girl, ain’t she? I’m sure she’s capable of finding her own dinner.”
“I don’t think he doubts your abilities as a minder,” Gethin interjected hastily. “It’s…I can tell Melody is very special to him. She’s not got much of a shell from what I could tell when I met her, very much an artist lost in her own world. I know she’s a vampire, and I’ve never felt drawn to any of you as a species, but she made me feel protective of her after one short meeting.”
Sorley snorted. “Aye, right,surethat was it. You were rethinking your gayness and wondering if you could turn yourself straight enough to ask her to marry you. Such a fanboy, Hughes.”
Gethin didn’t even care he blushed this time. “Not like I’m the first man to consider throwing myself at her feet,” he mumbled. He raised dark brows in Sorley’s direction. “Remember how you met her?”
Baxter chucked her empty blood bag in the bin, then gave each man an arm punch as she passed them on her way back to the hall. “You two are ridiculous. ‘Never felt drawn to any of you’. Gethin Hughes, I’ve heard some bull in my time, but that takes the biscuit. And to think I thought you were straight, ha! Right, introduce me to Melody and we’ll head out to hunt. It’s quiet right now.” Her grin turned wicked. “What about a run to Whitby Abbey? See if we can find any unsuspecting goth soul to freak out by flashing our fangs at them.”
Melody thought the idea of playing vampires at the abbey too much fun to pass up. Sorley initially dragged his feet, saying it was too corny for words, but with both Melody and Baxter keen, he capitulated quickly. He held out a door key to Gethin. “Try not to fall asleep before we get back.”
“I beg your pardon?” Gethin said archly. “You’re going nowhere without me, or have you forgotten you’re in danger?” He thrust the key back at Sorley and dangled a lightweight backpack from one finger. “Emergency change of clothes in case I have to shift too quickly to undress.”
Baxter’s brows hit her hairline. “When I said I might have to rethink my stance on shifters, I didn’t mean I wanted to see one nekkid.” She leered at him. “Besides, I think there’s already a queue for some quality Welsh sausage.”
Gethin, who’d been trying hard to ignore the twisted strands of sexual desire and mortification emanating from Melody, smothered a snigger at the outraged squawk Sorley made.
“Don’t think I won’t stake you in your sleep, Wragg,” he threatened, eyes narrowed in mock anger at Baxter. To Gethin he said, “You think you can keep up with us?” There was a definite challenge in his tone.
Gethin rolled his eyes. “I’m not vampire fast, but good manners should dictate you’re not going to be an arsehole about this. I’m faster than most wolves. I won’t slow you down that much.”
18
SORLEY
Runningwith a shifter did slow them down, but Sorley was impressed by Gethin’s speed and stamina. They made it to Whitby without stopping; the night was clear and dry. Reluctantly, they agreed to give the abbey a miss — it was easy enough to jump the walls, but they could tell it was deserted — and made instead for the town centre. Sorley suggested Gethin hang back while they fed, but he hadn’t bargained on how stubborn the wolf could be. Gethin merely stared at him until Sorley dropped his gaze and shrugged. Didn’t bother him if the big bad shifter got the heebie jeebies watching a trio of vamps have their dinner.
Except, as they trawled the streets like shadows, he was acutely aware that the wolf seemed interested rather than repulsed. He kept to the background, but was never more than a few feet from Sorley at any time. The vampire was surprised to find Gethin’s attention a comfort rather than the straitjacket he’d expected it to be. The three of them made quick work of compelling then feeding from some stragglers from a late night party. Melody towed Baxter with her as she had her heart set on more than a snack, and the biggest guy, a Gethin clone, lit a spark in his friend’s eyes. A silent nod from Baxter assured Sorley she wouldn’t let Melody out of her sight. And then he was alone with Gethin.
Who dragged him along a quiet street and into the shadows offered by a small alley, away from the glow of the street lights.
“What are you doi—” He didn’t finish his sentence, or the thought behind it, as his back hit the wall and Gethin’s tongue slammed into his mouth. It was getting to be a habit with the wolf, manhandling him like he was made of paper. Sorley didn’t hate it. Hereallydidn’t hate it, and that was concerning. He gripped Gethin’s shirt sleeves and hauled himself up the shifter’s muscled form to align their cocks at just the right angle.
When Gethin pulled a sachet of lube from his pocket and held it up, Sorley’s chest felt tight. “You’re very presumptuous.”
Gethin laughed. “And you’re easy and needy when you’ve just fed. But if you don’t want to…” He held the packet between finger and thumb, a question mark in his brown eyes.
Sorley wanted to play hard to get, but why was he even trying? The way he’d been rubbing himself against the shifter like a bitch in heat was mortifying, but also accurate. He sighed and ground against Gethin’s fly once more. “You know I want you.”
Gethin’s grin was all promise. “And you hate that you want me. I get it. Goes against both our natures doesn’t it?” He nuzzled Sorley’s neck, his beard igniting tantalising prickles of desire in a chain reaction down Sorley’s spine. He moaned and his traitorous cock pulsed inside his satin boxers.
When Gethin lowered him onto his erection, Sorley wasn’t sure if it was the burn or the care the shifter was taking that made his eyes smart. It was really too bad that Gethin took care of him this way. Anyone would think he wanted to be cherished…
“That’s it, princess, I gotcha. Fuuuck, you’re tight.”
“Don’t call me princess...” It sounded feeble as the words left his mouth.
“I wouldn’t, but I can fuckingsmellhow much you like it when I do. Needy, prissy princess with your foul mouth and your tight arse, begging to be ruined. You turn me on so damn much…”
Sorley gasped as his orgasm began barrelling through him like a runaway horse at a rickety gate. One sharp tug of Gethin’s fingers and he was spilling all over his hand, his head slumped on Gethin’s shoulder as his vision blurred. He clung on while the shifter adjusted his stance and pounded into him, those sticky fingers clamped around Sorley’s hips as his rhythm stuttered, before he emptied himself inside the vampire with a tortured groan.
“Fucking you is going to be the death of me, vampire.” Gethin loosened his grip a fraction, his breath hot on Sorley’s neck. “Gissa minute and I’ll find a wipe.”
“Something else in your Boy Scout rucksack, no doubt,” Sorley said tartly. “You really are a paragon of forward planning.”
Gethin huffed, amused. “That’s exactly what I mean. You can’t help yourself, can you? Good job I’ve got a thick skin and my wolf senses, or I’d start to think you didn’t want me around.” He eased Sorley to the ground and handed him his trousers. “Hold those while I find the wipes.”
