Longing for Wolves (Shifter Country Wolves Book 5) (7 page)

He’s drunk
, Sam reminded himself.

In a flash, Sam scooted away and pushed Calder face down on the bed, pinning him with a knee in the lower back. Calder made a surprised grunt and then turned his head to one side, watching Sam, his chest heaving.

 
Sam reached for the bottle of baby oil he kept in his bedside table and took a minute to look at Calder, the hard muscles in his back, the way his hair flopped over his face, the hungry look in his eyes.

Calder laughed as Sam poured oil into his hand, then tossed the bottle somewhere. He slid his fingers between Calder’s rock-hard buttocks until he felt the pucker, and then slid a finger in.

Calder’s whole body went rigid, and his eyes closed. Sam took his knee off the other man’s back and slid his finger further in, watching Calder’s hands ball into fists, pulling the top of the bedspread tight as he moaned.

He slid another finger in and Calder moaned again, louder.

“Fuck, Sam,” he whispered.

A third finger. Calder nearly shouted and his hips pressed against the bed, his breath coming in gasps. Sam took his fingers out, watching Calder’s body relax. He’d been clumsy with the bottle and they were both half-covered in baby oil, but that was a problem for a different time. He laid next to Calder and rolled Calder onto one side, his back against Sam’s chest. Calder reached back and took Sam’s cock in his fist, pumping it, and Sam groaned again.

Calder put the tip of Sam’s cock against his hole and pushed backward, letting Sam slide inside bit by bit, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Almost,” whispered Sam, and then he could feel the head of his cock slide past the ring of muscle and then he was inside Calder, again, and it felt so good that Sam had to stop for a moment, his nose in Calder’s hair, to force himself back from the brink.

Calder moved, just a little, and then Sam grabbed his hip and pulled out and then thrust back in, hard, growling into Calder’s ear.

“
Fuck,
” Calder gasped. “Fuck, Sam, that feels so good.”

“Shut up,” Sam whispered into his ear. “You’re drunk.”

“You used to tell me to scream your name,” Calder said. His words turned to a moan as Sam thrust deep inside him.

Then they were moving in tandem, hard and slow. Sam wrapped a hand around Calder’s hair and pulled just hard enough, and Calder half-chuckled, half-groaned as Sam wrapped his other hand around Calder’s cock, pumping it in time with his own strokes.

“Sam, I’m gonna cum,” Calder gasped, and Sam growled.

He couldn’t last either, not like this, not deep inside Calder when he felt like his entire body might just burst. Not when his vision was going white around the edges and Calder wouldn’t stop saying his name.

“I’m close,” Sam whispered, pulling on Calder’s hair just a little bit harder.

“I’m gonna cum so hard,” Calder whispered. He’d always talked dirtier when he was drunk. “Jesus,
fuck
, Sam, this feels so good.
You
feel so good.”

Sam thrust again and Calder moaned and then Sam couldn’t hold back anymore. He came in a rush of white-hot pleasure, his whole world blanking out for seconds on end, and there was nothing but Calder and Calder was completely and utterly
his
. Then Calder’s cock jerked and his muscles around Sam jerked and Calder shouted, Sam’s hand still pumping his cock until it was soft and completely spent.

Sam wrapped his arm around Calder’s chest and kissed the back of his shoulder, both of them still breathing hard.

Just one more minute like this, please
, he thought.
Then whatever’s going to happen can happen.

At last, he pulled out and rolled onto his back and Calder rolled over too, facing the ceiling. He slid his arm under Sam and kissed the other man on the temple, and there was something so familiar in it that Sam’s stomach turned. He found Calder’s hand and wound their fingers together.

He’s drunk,
he thought.
He showed up drunk and horny. It doesn’t mean anything. He might not remember it in the morning.

It didn’t take long before Calder was passed out and snoring. He’d always snored when he was drunk.

Slowly, Sam fell asleep, still nestled in Calder’s arms, on top of his blankets.

Chapter Six

Calder

The sun sliced through the windows, and after fighting it for a long time, Calder woke up. His stomach felt bad, his head pounded, and he threw one arm over his eyes, wishing that wherever he was weren’t so
bright
.

It didn’t bother him that it was unfamiliar. That was his life: waking up in unfamiliar places.

Then
he remembered, and he held his breath. Getting undressed in the parking lot of the steakhouse, taking his pants and shirt. Running cross-country for a while, stumbling through the underbrush because even if he was a wolf, he was drunk.

Sam opening the door. Sam’s hand in his hair, Sam’s knee in his back, the whole world virtually exploding into shards.

He didn’t even have to turn his head to know that Sam wasn’t in the bed with him, but he grabbed the pillow and held it to his face, inhaling Sam’s scent deeply. He could feel all the familiar nerves and brain pathways light up, a tightness forming in his chest he couldn’t get rid of. At least that hadn’t changed.

Calder got up and went into the living room. Empty. No Sam in the kitchen, no Sam in the bathroom, and by then Calder was starting to panic. He found his pants and shirt, both full of holes, and tossed them on the back of the couch, trying to collect himself.

Calder washed his face and drank a glass of water but nothing could soothe the deep, yawning hole in the pit of his stomach.
 

Of course coming here drunk and fucking Sam isn’t gong to solve what’s wrong with us
, he thought.
I don’t even know if he wants to solve it. I don’t know if we can. I don’t know if we should.

Fuck.

There was a note on the table, and Calder finally saw it when he put his glass down.

You have a suit in the closet. Box labeled SUIT.

For the first time, Calder looked at the clock. Almost eleven in the morning.
 

Something else in his brain clicked.

I think I was supposed to be there an hour ago. In a suit.

By eleven-fifteen, Calder was showered and dressed in the suit, the tie haphazardly draped around his neck. The suit still fit, even though it was about eight years old, and as Calder looked in the bathroom mirror, he remembered what Sam had said:

You look exactly the same
.

Calder swallowed. He felt like someone had taken out his eyes, stuffed cotton into the sockets, and put them back in. Every heartbeat thundered through his head.

Sam was right, though. He
was
the same.

With the terrible clarity of the hungover, Calder stared into the mirror at his pale face with bloodshot eyes, and realized the truth: that he’d substituted motion for change. He’d gone to a new place every month, every week, but there was no way he was ever going to escape himself.

“Shit,” he muttered at his reflection.

It was the worst
possible
goddamn time to have this sudden insight, when he was shattered and hungover and late as hell to his sister’s wedding to boot.

Then he went to the kitchen, found Sam’s land line, and dialed the only number he could remember: his parents’.

After three rings, a strange voice answered.

“Waltz residence,” the man said.

“Yeah, hi, this is Calder,” he said.

“Where are you?” the man said. Calder was pretty sure it was one of Ingrid’s mates.

“Someone’s house,” Calder said, not sure what else to say.

“What’s the address? I’m coming to get you.”

“8503 Sawgrass Road,” he said. “It’s a long driveway and the house is at the end. And, uh, thanks.”

“See you in fifteen,” the man said, and hung up.

When the car drove up, Calder was sitting on the front porch steps, not far from where he’d stood when Sam found him. He didn’t have shoes, but hoped that someone had rescued his from the parking lot the night before.
 

Sam still hadn’t come back. Calder wished he would but he knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on. At least Sam had given him the suit.

The sedan pulled up and Calder got into the passenger side. The driver looked faintly amused, and looked at the house before pulling away.

“Thanks for the ride,” Calder said.

The guy laughed.

“I got stationed at your parents’ house to wait for your call,” he said. “Ingrid and Greta figured either you’d show up at the wedding or call, and your phone was in the pocket of the jacket you left in the parking lot. They figured your parents’ house would be the only number you’d know.”

“Ah,” Calder said. “How late am I?”

“It’s not too dire,” Ingrid’s mate said.

“Is Greta pissed?”

The guy laughed.

“It’s Greta’s wedding day,” he said. “Of course not. I’m not sure she remembers you exist.”

Right
, Calder thought.

Chapter Seven

Annika

Annika got to the venue early. She didn’t need to — after all, the wedding wasn’t for a couple of hours, and dessert wasn’t until that night — but it was her first job and she wanted to make sure everything got done right.

Doing everything right took about an hour, and then there was nothing to do.

Greta and her mates had rented out a big gold rush era mansion, currently owned by the Ponderosa County Historical Society, and so Annika decided to take a walk around the grounds, just to have something to do before the ceremony.

As she turned the corner to the front of the house, admiring the roses, a car pulled up.

A barefoot Calder got out, holding an empty Gatorade bottle in one hand, his tie completely undone. He saw Annika and waved.

“You seen Greta?” he asked. The car left for the parking lot.

“She’s in her dressing room,” Annika said.

Calder looked at the big house.

“Where is that?” he asked, as Annika walked closer. From a dozen feet away, she could see his bloodshot eyes and the circles underneath them.

Then he turned his head, and she spotted one of the biggest, darkest hickies she’d ever seen on his neck.

Her stomach sank.

I guess he found someone else after I left last night
, she thought. She made herself keep her head up, though.

It just proves I made the right decision. No more projects.

Just nice, normal guys who have their shit together.

She was still disappointed.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you.”

Annika heard Greta laughing from down the hall, and the sound made her smile. She knocked on the door and stuck her head in.

“I found Calder,” she said.

Greta sighed.

“All right, let him in,” she said. “Let’s see the damage.”

Annika turned and looked at Calder in the hallway, where he leaned against the wall. He screamed disheveled sex appeal, even with no shoes, and Annika hated herself for it.

“You’re in,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said with a quick smile.

Annika stepped back and Calder went through the door.

“Jesus tap-dancing Christ, Calder,” Annika heard Greta say.

She started to walk away, and then the door opened again and one of Greta’s bridesmaids poked her head out.

“You want some champagne?” the girl asked. “We’ve got like ten bottles in here and the ceremony’s not for another two hours.”

“I’m at work,” Annika pointed out.

“You’re not at work for hours,” Greta called. “Come have a glass.”

Annika shrugged, then went into the dressing room. She accepted a glass, then sat on a couch under a window, watching everything happen. Another bridesmaid sat next to her and introduced herself as Jessica.

From the corner of her eye, Annika watched Ingrid deal with Calder. Calder kept looking at her, and Annika kept trying to pretend that she wasn’t watching him.

“You at least showered, right?” Ingrid asked.

“Yes, I showered,” Calder said.

“Where were you?” she asked. “Michael said he had to pick you up at some cabin in the mountains.”

“It’s a long story,” Calder said.

“You have a hickey the size of Wyoming,” Ingrid said, her voice dropping.

Calder’s face dropped, and inexplicably, Annika nearly laughed.

“I do?”

Ingrid stared at it, biting her lip and thinking for a moment.

“I’ve got foundation,” she said at last. “Take your shirt off.”

“But there’s
ladies
around,” Calder said.

The look she gave him could have cut glass, and Calder obediently took off his jacket, shirt, and undershirt.

Annika stared pointedly at the floor, sipping at her champagne.

“So,” she said to Jessica. “What do you do?”

“I teach high school math,” Jessica said. She
also
seemed to be pointedly looking at the floor. “Mostly algebra and pre-calc, though sometimes the other stuff. You?”

“I own a bakery,” Annika said.

She sneaked a peek at Calder.

The man had abs for
days
.

“You made the cake!” Jessica said. “Greta raves about your baking.”

“Thanks!” said Annika.

Another sneak peek.

He was
jacked
, and just standing there as Ingrid dabbed concealer onto his neck.

“Did you fuck a vacuum cleaner?” Annika could hear her mutter.

Calder didn’t answer, and Annika looked back at the floor.

“He’s a look, don’t touch, kind of situation,” Jessica confided.

“Calder?” Annika asked.

She peeked again, but this time he was looking, so she looked away.

Jessica nodded.

“I heard,” Annika said.

“The looking is good, though,” Jessica said.

“No kidding,” said Annika. “It’s like a bad cliché: the brother who shows up hungover to the wedding, all devil-may-care.”

“I think he even rides a motorcycle,” said Jessica.

Annika laughed.

“Of course he does,” she said, feeling a little better about everything.