Undercover Lovers [Urban Affairs 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove) (6 page)

Slade groaned as a flash of memory brought back an image of Jaxon between his knees, cheeks drawn as his talented mouth sucked Slade to completion. His testicles drew up, and he cupped them, moaning as he rolled the furred sac. “Fuck. That feels good. Harder, Jaxon. Suck me harder.”

Now that was a first. He leaned back against the tiles. Muttering to an imaginary lover? What the hell? So what, he told himself, no one could hear him. His pretend Jaxon sucked him good, just the way he had last night. Slade could almost feel his cock hit the back of Jaxon’s throat as the man took him deeper. “That’s it, Jaxon. Swallow me.”

His buttocks clenched as one hand found the crease of his ass and fingered the entrance. He ached to have Jaxon’s thick length buried inside him again, but for now he’d have to settle for pleasuring himself. His breath caught in his throat as he teased the puckered hole. Finally a slick finger pushed past the tight muscle. His ass clenched around it, begging for more, and a visual of a tall, dark wolf with amber eyes almost sent him over the edge.

Flames raced up his spine, and he searched for that sweet spot deep inside himself that Jaxon had found so easily. His hand moved faster, and his knees went weak.
Fuck!
No longer able to hold off, Slade let go. A howl came up from the depths of his chest, and he came hard and fast. His cock exploded with the force of an erupting volcano, spurting hot blasts of cum against the tiles, and he shook under the warm water. The intense pleasure had rocked his body and his mind. He leaned back against the shower wall until breathing didn’t require every ounce of strength he had left.

The evidence of his climax disappeared down the drain with the water. He’d come three times in the last two days, a record for him in the recent past, and he still wanted more, needed more. The water turned cold again, but he couldn’t bring himself to shut it off and get out. He continued to stroke his cock, unwilling to give up the ecstasy of his orgasm.

He couldn’t stay in here forever. Finally, Slade shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. He snatched a towel hanging from a hook on the wall and dried off. Slinging the towel around his hips, he walked into the bedroom. How could he still be hard? He sprawled across the bed and wrapped his fingers around—

The buzz of the cell phone jarred him back to reality, and Slade made a grab for it before the second ring sounded.

“Slade Wolfe?”

“Yeah.” He sat up straight and waited to hear what came next.

“My name is Mike Donovan. Can we meet today?”

* * * *

Being new to the city, Slade left it to the cop to pick their meeting place. He would know about places where it was okay for humans and shifters to meet without raising eyebrows. Slade arrived at the Safe Zone a little early so he could get a first look at Mike when the man walked in.

True to its name, it was a bar on the boundary of Dogtown, a place where humans and Weres could hang out without being harassed. A place where they could be sure they wouldn’t get knifed in the men’s room.

Inside the air was heavy with the smell of smoke and sweat. The dingy interior was furnished with leather booths and tables that looked like they’d been rescued from the city dump. The place was empty and Slade had his pick of tables. He chose a corner booth under a black-and-white print of old New York and ordered a drink. When the door opened, he knew his contact immediately. Six feet, short dark blond hair, square jaw, blue eyes, bodybuilder physique—the man’s whole persona screamed
cop
.

Mike spotted him, nodded, and made his way to Slade’s booth, navigating the maze of tables. He slid in opposite Slade, and the two men sized each other up.

“I’m Mike Donovan.”

“Of course you are.” Slade took the proffered hand and nodded. “Slade Wolfe.”

* * * *

Mike felt a momentary spark when his eyes met Slade’s, but it turned to a flame of anger when he smelled cinnamon on the man.
This is the motherfucker who’s been all over Jaxon
. When his superior told him an undercover agent was infiltrating Dogtown, he didn’t think the Captain meant under Jaxon’s covers. He reminded himself that this agent didn’t give two shits about Jaxon. He was just doing a job.
Like you’re supposed to be doing, Michael.
If anything he should be pissed at Jaxon for letting this stranger seduce him.

“What can I get you?” A barmaid stood by the table, waiting to take their order. Mike listened to Slade make small talk for a few minutes until she came back with their drinks. Slade waited until she walked away before speaking again. “This was a good choice, but we probably shouldn’t meet here again.”

“You’re right. There are other places…” Mike took a swallow from his mug of dark amber ale and studied Slade over the rim. Cinnamon with a faint hint of wet dog. It blew his mind and his blood pressure. Jaxon had come to Mike’s bed with Slade’s scent all over him. He spoke through gritted teeth. “You make any progress?”

Slade shrugged. “I got a job in the club.”

“Doing what?”

“Stripping.” The wolf grinned at him. “And doing a pretty damn good job of it, if I do say so myself. Which I don’t have to, if you judge my performance by the size of my tips.”

Motherfucker.
Another surge of anger ripped through Mike. He couldn’t keep the sneer off his face.

Slade gave him a funny look. “You have a problem working with a wolf?”

Yeah, if the big, bad wolf is after my boyfriend.
“Only if he’s a cocky bastard.”

Slade’s face creased into an irresistibly devastating grin. “I prefer to think of myself as confident.

It might be the boredom of being stuck in a squad car for eight hours a day with the same partner, but most cops spoke to each other candidly about their personal lives, about everything. That wouldn’t be happening here—and not just because Mike couldn’t reveal his relationship with Jaxon. Mike had mixed emotions about Slade Wolfe. The wolf might be the second sexiest man he’d ever met, Jax being number one, but his cocky persona gave off bad vibes. “Whatever you want to call it, it comes across as arrogance in my book.”

“Whatever
you
want to call it, it’s purely a fundamental belief in my own abilities.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one, but you still have to make me a believer.” Mike still wasn’t sure how he felt about his new partner. He had to admit he liked a man who was comfortable in his own skin, and Slade appeared to be a man who would know how to handle himself if the fur started to fly.

“Believe me, I’m doing my job,” Slade said with a smile of male satisfaction. “I got inside Castle’s apartment yesterday.”

That hurt. Mike had never been past the boundaries of Dogtown, let alone inside Jaxon’s apartment. “I don’t like it.”
Understatement of the year.

“Why?” Slade frowned at him. “I’m just doing my job. I already planted a bug in the living room.”

“And he’s not suspicious?”

“No. The man was obviously attracted to me. Getting inside was a piece of cake.”

Mike’s heart sank. He couldn’t blame Jax for being infatuated with Slade. The man sitting across from him was intelligent and easy on the eyes. More than that, he was a wolf. Hell, even he was physically attracted to the guy. He was beginning to wonder if he wasn’t the tiniest bit jealous that Jaxon had bedded Slade first. “So now what?” Mike said through gritted teeth.

“Weren’t you briefed?”

“I want to hear it from you.” Mike said impatiently.

“All right.” Slade snorted, clearly annoyed. “Here it is in a nutshell. The FBI has been watching the Weres for years and—”

“Does that include you?” Mike sneered. How could he trust a man who spied on his own people?

Slade shrugged. “Probably. We’re all being watched. Even you, Mike, and we have to choose sides. I chose the right one.”

“You mean the one that’s paying you big bucks.”

Slade regarded him carefully. “I thought we were on the same side. What’s your point?”

Inwardly, Mike cursed himself for letting emotion color his words. He agreed to this so he could help Jaxon, not make things worse. “No hard feelings. I just want to know that I can trust you.”

“None taken. You can never be too careful in our line of work. The Were population has been increasing steadily, and like birds of a feather each group tends to stick with its own species—the feline-shifters in one area, the wolves in another, and so on and so forth. Relations between them and the human population have been relatively quiet.”

Mike raised his brows. Obviously this guy hadn’t been in New York all that long. Race relations had never been peaceful here.

“In the last year, disturbing intelligence reports have come back indicating that communication channels have opened up between these diverse Were neighborhoods. These groups have always functioned independently from each other. A storm is brewing. The Weres are talking about banding together in a hostile takeover. Rebellion and riot is not the answer. If they want equality and integration, they’re going about it the wrong way. There are politicians in Washington lobbying for their cause. They need to let those supporters do their work.”

“Maybe they’re tired of waiting,” Mike broke in. “Maybe the Feds are feeding you a bill of goods.”

Slade frowned at Mike. “The wheels turn slow, but they are turning, and at least nobody is getting hurt. And that’s why I’m in this. It’s not all about money. I don’t want my people hurt any more than you want yours put in jeopardy. Castle’s name keeps coming up as an insurgent, a radical supporter of revolution.”

“I think the term is patriot.”

Slade’s brows rose. “The government doesn’t agree. If he’s allowed to keep stirring up the shifters, the Feds will send in the military, and the Weres will be rounded up like cattle. We can’t let that happen.”

Bullshit!
If Jaxon was involved in subversive activities, Mike would know about it.
Would you? Maybe this is why Jaxon doesn’t want you in Dogtown. He’s says he’s keeping you safe, but maybe he’s got secrets he’s keeping safe.
What about your secrets?
He shut off the voice of conscience in his head.

“Earth to Mike.”

“Sorry.” Mike focused on the conversation. “I’m listening.”

“So I planted the bug in his living room, and now I sit back and listen. When I get something we’ll pick him up.”

Mike’s chest went tight. He expected this, but hearing it out loud made it real.

“Fortunately, there are no problems over electronic surveillance. In a terrorist situation, we don’t need prior permission to plant
surveillance in private homes.”

“So did you bug the bedroom too?”

Slade shook his head.

“What’s the matter? Couldn’t get inside the bedroom?”

“Oh, I got inside all right. So did he. In this case, fucking the man was not a hardship.”

Fucking wolves. They were all hound dogs. And what are you?
Judging by the boner trying to fight its way out of his jeans, Mike’s testosterone levels must be off the charts. He bit his tongue to stop the hormone rollercoaster. If he couldn’t control his libido he’d fuck up the assignment and his relationship.

“So for now things are status quo until the bug brings in something concrete. If not we’ll go to plan B.”

“Which is?”

“We’ll talk about it when we need to. How can I contact you if I need you?”

Mike had a prepaid disposable phone ready for Slade. He really hoped this would be over quickly. The sooner Slade Wolfe got out of New York, the better.

Slade did a lot of walking when he left the Safe Zone. Walking always calmed him down and helped him think. Mostly he thought about Mike Donovan. Something about the cop was off. Slade didn’t trust him. Apparently the feeling was mutual. All through their meeting Donovan acted sullen and angry. Slade kept expecting him to snap any minute.

This was bullshit. Slade usually worked alone, and that’s the way he liked it. He didn’t need a sullen cop on his ass. Donovan had been forced on him. According to his superiors, he needed a contact that was familiar with the area, and who better than a member of the NYPD, a man who could call in the calvary if needed. More likely they didn’t trust a wolf to bring in another wolf, and they wanted a human to keep an eye on Slade. Whatever the reason, Donovan wasn’t going away. They were stuck like glue.

If he had to have a partner, he wanted a man who’d be willing to risk his life for him. He didn’t see Donovan sticking his neck out for a wolf. Danger usually created a bond between men and helped them to overcome differences. When an agent put on the cloak of law enforcement he wasn’t human or Were. All agents were created equal, but it appeared Donovan didn’t agree.

In that respect, he was like most humans. They all had preconceived notions about Weres. All shifters were dishonest, lazy, drunked-out animals who liked to fight and fuck. The men in Dogtown were a rowdy bunch, but they didn’t fit the stereotypes that were being thrown around by the media and his own employer, the United States government.

Donovan lived here in New York where there was a big shifter population. He must deal with wolves all the time. Couldn’t he see that, just like in the human world, no shifters were the same? He should know better than to believe the hype. Maybe it was something else.
Maybe he just doesn’t like me. If that’s the case he’ll just have to deal with it until we’re finished here, which hopefully won’t be too long because working with someone you don’t trust is hell.

His superiors had told Slade that Donovan was a stand-up cop, recommended highly by his captain who thought he’d be good in undercover work. Donovan would disarm a target with his all American good looks, and then take him out when he least expected it.
That might be true, but he’s not a good fit for me.
Slade would put his life on the line for Donovan, but he didn’t trust Donovan to do the same, and that would color his actions in future situations.