Strength of the Pack (35 page)

Lucas was startled. He wanted to jump out of the bed, but Noah leaning against him made that impossible. The ship’s medical staff understood why Lucas needed to behave so inappropriately with Noah, but strangers wouldn’t understand.

“How can we help you?” Lucas asked with authority.

The corpsman stepped into the room, and Lucas could see he was heavily laden with gear that appeared to be their own.

“I’m HM2 Mitchell. Your CO asked us to get your gear to you,” the corpsman said. “Where would you like me to put it?”

Lucas indicated the far corner of the room. Mitchell carefully lined up their gear. With a wide genuine smile, he turned and headed for the door. “We’re heading back to the field hospital as soon as we refuel. We volunteered for this patient transport so we could make sure you got your gear.”

“Thank you,” Noah said solemnly. “And my thanks to your crew and everyone else who helped.”

“Heal quickly, Sergeant. Lieutenant, please let
any
of us know if we can be of assistance to you during the Alpha’s recovery.” The corpsman was nearly bouncing with excitement.

“Thank you,” Lucas replied, too surprised and confused to say thing else.

With a nod that almost resembled a bow, HM2 Mitchell left.

“Is it me, or was that really strange?” Lucas asked when they were alone again.

“It’s you,” Noah replied sharply. “My Pack isn’t ashamed of you. They’re proud they can be helpful to you.” There was tension in his body that hadn’t been present moments before.

Lucas was at a loss. He was the cause of Noah’s annoyance, and he had no clue why. “I’m very proud to be associated with your Pack,” he said quietly, anxious to return to the way things were before the corpsman had arrived. “I admire quite a lot about your culture. I admire the way you make leading your Pack look effortless.”

Noah relaxed against Lucas and cleared his throat. “We’ll probably get a few more visitors. The Pack will look out for their leaders while we heal.”

Lucas absorbed that information, appreciating how the Pack always looked out for one another. “No one put their careers at risk to give us special treatment, did they?”

“Probably not. They most likely just coordinated with each other to get our gear onto transports headed this direction on official missions.” Noah gestured impatiently toward the tray. “Come on, I’m still hungry. You have a job to finish.”

Lucas barked a surprised laugh, the last vestiges of tension dying away. He forked a bite of chicken into his own mouth. “I think you’re getting too comfortable being waited on hand and foot.”

“Hey!” Noah mock protested. “I’m the invalid, here.”

“Invalid, my ass,” Lucas muttered.

Noah chuckled around the mashed potatoes Lucas fed him. “Be nice, or I won’t share my chocolate pudding with you.”

“Oh, now
that’s
a threat,” Lucas retorted, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Noah’s head.

His blood chilled when he realized what he’d done. Casual affection was a very telling behavior. Noah’s pleased reaction told Lucas that it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He reminded himself why he was even in bed with Noah in the first place. Noah would heal faster with physical contact. Werewolves thrived on that contact; he’d seen that with his own eyes. That explained Noah’s reaction to the kiss. Lucas pressed his cheek to the top of Noah’s head as he continued to feed him until the tray was empty, and they shared the chocolate pudding.

Once he was fed and rested, Noah grew bored and restless. Lucas was grateful their gear had been delivered. Not only could he dress in his own uniform shirts and utility pants, but he also had several well read paperbacks stashed away.

“I can’t believe you own
Black Dahlia
,” Noah said with a grin. “I thought you’d be too erudite for that kind of pulp fiction.”

“Man cannot live by Socrates alone,” Lucas returned.

Their laughter was interrupted by a male orderly entering the room with a large basin of water and a stack of white towels. “Afternoon, gentlemen,” he greeted. “I’m Anton Villa, and I’m here to clean Sergeant Hammond up some.”

They’d cleaned Noah of the grime of combat during his surgery, but he was starting to smell a little strong. Stronger than Lucas preferred, anyway, as much as he liked the way Noah smelled.

Anton lowered Noah’s blanket down around his hips. He reached behind Noah’s neck for the first tie to his gown.

“Stop!” Lucas barked, stepping up next to Noah’s bed. “I’ll do it.” No one was going to undress his Alpha but him. No one’s hands would touch Noah’s bare skin but his.

“It’s no problem, Lieutenant. It’s my job,” Anton replied pleasantly, again reaching for Noah.

Rage boiled up in Lucas. He curled his hands into fists at his sides.

Noah’s hands shot up to grip Anton’s wrists. “He’s human, Lucas.” Noah’s mind reached out to him soothingly, silently urging calm and caution. “It’s better if you let the lieutenant do this.”

Anton looked confused as he slowly pulled back. “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” Noah said calmly. “It’s just a werewolf-culture thing.”

Now that Anton was no longer touching Noah, Lucas calmed down. He was bothered by his unreasonable behavior toward the orderly. He was just doing his job and was perfectly professional about it.

“Would you like me to show you what to do, Lieutenant?” asked Anton.

“No, thank you,” Lucas replied carefully.

When the orderly left, Lucas spread out the things he’d need. “You need a shave, too,” he remarked in a low voice, not meeting Noah’s gaze.

“In my gear, there’s a black canvas bag with handles. Could you get it?” Noah asked. When Lucas retrieved it and tried to hand it over, Noah said, “Open it, please.”

Lucas unzipped the bag and found a shaving kit, an old fashioned shaving kit with a soap cup and a folding straight razor. “Can you sit up enough to shave yourself with this?”

“If you’re going to bathe me, you might as well shave me,” Noah replied with a mischievous smile.

Lucas looked at him in surprise. “You trust me to do that?”

“Implicitly.” Noah looked at him steadily.

Lucas’ heart beat a little faster as he pictured himself bathing and shaving Noah. Reminding himself this was about caring for an injured Noah, Lucas got started on his task.

Noah cooperated placidly as Lucas slid his gown off his arms and folded it down around his hips. Taking a clean cloth, Lucas submerged it in the basin of warm, soapy water. Ringing out the excess, he used it to clean Noah’s face and neck.

Satisfied with his work, Lucas picked up the large, soft sponge and wet it. As he wiped away sweat and grime from Noah’s neck and shoulders, he couldn’t miss the audible sigh of pleasure or the silent sense of contentment.

Propping Noah’s arm on his shoulder, Lucas ran the sponge over him, idly admiring the corded muscles. He expected embarrassment when he reached Noah’s underarm and cleaned him thoroughly. The only thing Noah felt was contentment.

To avoid a chill, Lucas took a large, white towel and patted Noah’s skin dry. Picking up the sponge again, Lucas wiped down his chest and belly. He’d seen Noah naked, but Lucas had never had the time to simply observe and admire him.

Noah’s muscled chest, his firm pecs were well defined. His pink nipples became hardened buds in the cool air. Lucas took the soft towel and dried the moisture from Noah’s skin. He ran the wet sponge over the dips and planes of Noah’s sharply cut abs. When Noah’s muscles flexed and contracted, Lucas reached for their link and was surprised to find Noah floating in a state of bliss. He enjoyed being clean, but he reveled in the feel of Lucas’ hands on his naked skin.

Swallowing hard, Lucas skimmed the sponge over the pronounced dips in Noah’s hips. A shudder rolled through Noah’s body, and the muscles in his stomach rippled. Lucas pulled back abruptly, fearing he’d made Noah uncomfortable.

That wasn’t the case, though. Noah was ticklish. Lucas couldn’t help but chuckle, and Noah joined in.

Stepping to the other side of the bed, Lucas repeated the process of washing Noah’s arm. This simple, necessary task had become something so intimate. He was thrilled that Noah basked in this attention. Lucas hoped that something as simple as a bath could help speed Noah’s recovery.

Helping Noah to roll carefully onto his right side, just the way the staff had taught him, Lucas bathed Noah’s back. He moved quickly so he could ease Noah to once again lie flat, before too much stress was put on his injured left side.

Gently, Lucas redressed Noah and pulled the blanket up to his chest again. He lifted the blanket from the foot of the bed to expose Noah’s injured left leg. He quickly washed Noah’s foot, working his way up until he reached the thick bandages.

Stepping back around the bed to Noah’s uninjured side, Lucas lifted the blanket to reveal Noah’s right leg. He used the sponge to clean Noah’s foot, working his way up Noah’s ankle, his calf, behind his knee. He focused on staying thorough but professional.

The higher up he worked, the more obvious Noah’s annoyance and frustration became. Lucas cleared his mind, refused to acknowledge how close he was coming to Noah’s groin and the fact that he was going to have to touch him there eventually.

He dried the skin of Noah’s leg and reached for the hem of his gown. He carefully and efficiently folded it up over Noah’s belly. Noah was flaccid, nestled in the dark blond curls between his thighs. Lucas didn’t remember ever seeing Noah when he wasn’t erect. He pushed those thoughts aside as Noah expressed his frustration with an audible sigh.

“It has to be the pain meds,” he growled, running a hand over his face.

“What does?” Lucas asked.

Noah made an impatient gesture toward his soft cock. “It’s not you. I swear.”

Lucas laughed softly, somewhat flattered that Noah would worry about him in that regard. “I’m sure it’s the pain meds, the fact you’ve been surgically reconstructed recently and that your body is healing itself.”

“Exactly,” Noah agreed. “’Cause you should be getting some sort of reaction. This entire bed smells like you. I can smell you on my skin. Your hands on me feel fucking fantastic. I should have a raging hard-on for you.”

“You werewolves really do have a thing for touch,” Lucas mused as he carefully but thoroughly cleaned Noah. He even got some cooperation when Noah spread his uninjured leg slightly.

Lucas was a little proud of himself when Noah sighed in pleased contentment. He contemplated how to wash Noah’s hair. Finally, Lucas lowered the bed and carefully propped Noah’s upper back on a large pile of pillows and blankets. He slid the basin beneath Noah’s head, cradled his skull and used his free hand to squeeze water from the sponge over Noah’s scalp.

Noah’s Marine haircut made the job quick. Lucas massaged a small amount of baby shampoo into his pale, blond hair and then rinsed it with the sponge. A quick toweling and Noah’s hair was already nearly dry.

“That alone makes me feel better,” Noah said.

“I know the feeling.” Lucas smiled down at him. Noah really did look fresh and relaxed. That could only be a good thing for helping him to heal.

Rolling the tray with the basin closer, Lucas threw a clean hand towel over one shoulder and the opposite forearm. He took everything out of Noah’s shaving kit that he would need.

Settling down snug against Noah’s right side, Lucas wet the brush and began to work up a lather. He spent several minutes working the brush against Noah’s skin, softening and lifting his coarse stubble.

Finally, he took up the straight edged razor and met Noah’s eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” Noah’s eyes held no doubt.

Lucas moved slowly, carefully pulling Noah’s skin taut and dragging the sharp blade along his face. Noah held very still, almost unnaturally so. Lucas could still sense Noah’s enjoyment of this task. Lucas’ hands on him, the scent of him, his nearness, all pleased Noah enormously.

Wiping the last of the lather from the blade onto the towel over his arm, Lucas took the towel from his shoulder and wiped Noah’s face clean. He gasped when Noah opened his eyes, and they glowed a vibrant, liquid blue. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

“Nothing better than the close shave of a straight razor,” Noah damn near growled. “Soft as a newborn’s ass.”

Lucas set everything on the rolling tray and pushed it out of the way. He skimmed the backs of two fingers down Noah’s freshly shaved cheek. “Yes, that is nice.”

Noah made an annoyed face. “Not with your hand. Feel it with something that can appreciate the smoothness.”

He knew it wasn’t his own idea when he leaned down and rubbed his cheek against Noah’s. Not that it mattered anymore. He inhaled Noah’s freshly clean scent and dragged his skin against Noah’s, understanding what it was about this that so appealed to the wolves.

Lucas pulled back to move on to Noah’s other cheek when his lips were captured in a searing kiss. He gasped into Noah’s mouth as his lips parted for Noah’s seeking tongue.