Everything shattered in him, an explosion of pleasure and love that made him close his eyes and tip his head back to lean on Vann’s collarbone. Spunk jetted out of him. Kip’s fingertips on the sill ached, but he couldn’t let go. Not yet, not until it was over. His legs almost gave out on him, and for the first time he keened so loudly it brought joy—the kind he’d always wanted to experience but never could.
“We’re fucking free, Sir.”
Vann grunted—what a welcome sound—and emptied his balls into Kip’s spasming ass. Kip opened his eyes to see that the guy outside had gone. It didn’t matter. He’d served his purpose, and now Kip could move on from the constraints of their past and embrace a bright new future.
“I love you!”
Vann rammed in and out as his cock pulsed and he released the last of his cum.
“I love you too, Sir,” Kip managed, out of breath, his chest tight, his legs weaker.
Vann took his hand away from Kip’s cock. “Lick,” he ordered.
Kip opened his mouth to suck in a cum-soaked finger. He’d done this before, lapped Vann’s stomach clean when they’d fucked in closets or in shadowy corners at Crossways, but his cum had never tasted this good. Liberty infused it with goodness, giving it a sweeter tang. He closed his eyes again and sagged against Vann, moaning around the finger.
Vann pulled his finger out, and Kip opened his eyes to watch him lick the rest off. Kip took in all the things he was feeling—throbbing ass and cock, heart thumping hard, neck vein flickering. And happiness so great he forgot everything for a few seconds.
As though knowing he’d forgotten their purpose here, his brain gave him a reminder. The reason they were in the hotel came stomping back. A respite, that’s all their fuck had been. Yet it hadn’t, not really. It was an awakening, something that had pushed them to the next level. There were so many more levels they had to reach, and once they’d been on the mission, Kip couldn’t wait to get to them all. No more hiding. No more pretending they didn’t know each other. Wherever they ended up living, hopefully they could do as they pleased, touching, holding hands, maybe a sweet kiss without fear.
“It’ll be great, won’t it?” Vann murmured, his breath hot on Kip’s neck. “To just be us.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Vann pulled his softening cock out. He turned Kip around to face him then hugged him close. Kip wrapped his arms around Vann’s waist, pushing his cheek to his chest. The warmth from his skin seeped into Kip. They stood that way for what seemed like forever, Kip reveling in there being no particular hurry. The time did cross Vann’s mind, though, only fleeting but there, and it snatched Kip out of his blissful cocoon and into the present.
“We need to shower. Think about the mission. Talk about it,” Vann said. “I don’t want to stop what we’re doing, but we can’t let Dillon and the others down.”
Kip nodded and followed Vann after he’d broken their embrace to head toward the bathroom. They shared the tub, washing each other in silence at first. Kip marveled at the fact they could do this, how something that came so easily to others—taken for granted perhaps—had been a pipe dream to them.
“I didn’t think,” Kip whispered, “that we’d…” He smoothed his hands up Vann’s chest, bubbles disguising his fingers. “This feels like a dream, Sir.”
Except he knew it wasn’t. The water was hot and real, the soapsuds fluffy and soft, their bodies close, bellies touching. And now, lips touching, Vann kissing him with passion, as though he never wanted to let Kip go.
“Stay safe,”
Vann thought.
“Never put yourself in danger on this mission. You’re my life and I—”
“We’ll be fine, Sir. Just fine.”
The water chilled a fraction, snatching away their special moment. Kip helped the shower stream wash away the lather on Vann’s body, swiping the bubbles until only suspicions of it clung to the hairs around Vann’s cock. Vann returned the gesture then switched the shower off. They stepped out of the tub then dried without speaking, the towel an abrasion on Kip’s sore ass cheek.
“Is it too sore?” Vann asked. “Will it hurt to put clothes on?”
“It’ll be okay, Sir.” Kip studied the floor tiles. “And if it isn’t, then it’ll soon heal when I shift. That’s the sad part about being a wolf. Every time I have a smacked ass and want it to hurt for a week, the wolf in me will demand I shift and take away the pain.”
Vann shivered, and if Kip couldn’t read Vann’s mind he’d think he was cold. But no, that had been a shiver of desire, the anticipation of the things to come. The toys they could use, the hours they could spend indulging in sex.
“I can’t wait, Sir. Can you?”
“No, but we have to. One more hurdle and we can start living properly.” Vann reached out to take a corner of Kip’s towel. He used it to dry his cheeks then pushed up under Kip’s chin so their gazes met. “A few hours and it will all be over. God, how I wish it was over already. What we have to do is dangerous and—”
“I know, Sir. And we’ll get through it like we always do.”
“Together.”
Kip nodded. “Permission to hug you, Sir?”
Vann held his arms out, and Kip walked into them. He’d never get tired of this. Vann’s hugs erased every bad thing, replacing it with goodness, security and the knowledge that their mating had been the best thing to happen to Kip.
“I love you, Sir. So much.”
Vann didn’t answer. Instead, he squeezed Kip tighter and sent his love flying, right into Kip’s chest. Kip was full of it—Vann’s and his own—and it just about knocked him flat on his ass. How could so much love exist between two people? How would it be possible to feel more as their life went on?
“Because our hearts will grow bigger,” Vann said. “And they’ll have to, because I have so much more love to show you. It’s just waiting to come out. I stored it for the whole time we were together at Crossways. Dreams, hugs, kisses—so many things I wanted to do spontaneously and couldn’t. Every time I thought of them, I added them to the ‘later’ pile. You have quite a cache to enjoy.”
Kip closed his eyes, never wanting this moment to end. He soaked everything in. The plop of water dripping off the showerhead and into the tub. Vann’s steady breathing. The warmth their bodies generated. The scent of lemons and jasmine from the soap. The puddle of water at Kip’s feet. Their towels slipping off. Bodies pressing closer together. The damp curls on Vann’s chest a pillow for Kip’s cheek.
Perfect. So perfect.
“We need to get ready,” Vann said.
The spell was broken. Kip sighed, moving away so Vann could leave the bathroom. Kip dipped his head, trailing him to the bed. He sat without being told to, sensing that was what Vann wanted. And as much as he loathed pushing aside the contentment, the happiness, Kip switched his mind to the mission while Vann dressed.
“There are things we need to talk about before we go down to the dining room.” Vann cleared his throat. “And please get dressed.”
Kip obeyed.
“We’re to stick together as much as possible,” Vann went on. “No being separated unless it’s absolutely necessary. I want to know where you are at all times. To be able to see you.”
“I understand, Sir, but we have our thoughts. You’ll know I’m safe when I speak to you that way if we get parted.”
“It’s not the same.” Vann went to the window. Snapped the curtains closed as though the memory of what they’d done there was a distraction. “We’re a team.”
Kip nodded, fully dressed now. He attempted to tie the laces on his shoes, fingers shaking, him fumbling and cursing himself for showing fear.
I’m not afraid. I can’t be afraid. Vann mustn’t know I’m worried.
“Dillon knows what he’s doing,” Kip said. “He has everything mapped out.”
“But not all eventualities. He doesn’t know Wickland. Or any of Wickland’s men. Yeah, he’s studied the layout at Crossways, but it’s never the same as actually being there. Things can go wrong.”
“They won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
I wasn’t sure, but I am now. Something’s clicked inside me, some kind of knowledge and…
“Because I just know, Sir. I can’t explain it, but this is the last leg for us. We release the pack then move on. Put the past firmly behind us. We have to.”
“It might not be that easy. The memories, the times we—”
“Forgive me for interrupting, Sir, but I know how to shut things off. It’s like they don’t exist anymore when I do it. I’ll teach you how to do the same.”
Vann turned from the window. “Look at me.”
Kip raised his head, stared into Vann’s eyes.
“What if I can’t learn, Kip? What if the past won’t fuck off?”
“It will. You’ll get through this, Sir. I’ll make sure of it.”
Chapter Five
Dinner passed all too quickly. Although Vann wanted to get things over and done with at Crossways, he was afraid of returning there. It might seem inconceivable to some that a big man like himself would feel fear, but he did. He was part human, after all, and had feelings like anyone else. Conditioned as he’d been all his life to toe the line, a huge part of him still had the desire to do that. Every aspect regarding ‘do as you’re told’ was so ingrained, set deep inside him, that he wondered if he’d ever shake it free. With Bennett incarcerated, the threat should have been gone—if Wickland wasn’t around. He was the stumbling block.
The man who may well fuck this whole mission up.
The one who might capture Vann and Kip, catch the Highgate men, ensuring their lives would go back to how they were before. Providing they weren’t killed for leaving Crossways in the first place. And the cover story that had been concocted for when Vann and Kip met up with Wickland again. If things went wrong, and Wickland believed Vann, it meant Vann’s life would be spared and Kip’s wouldn’t. Vann hadn’t been happy about that, but Dillon had assured him everything would go well, that he knew what he was doing.
While the Highgate group had eaten, Vann had gone over the crude plans he’d drawn of Crossways again so everyone was familiar with the layout. It was imperative the whole group knew exactly where to go and when. One wrong move and shit would start flying. Dillon had chosen a private dining room—he’d thought of everything, it seemed—and they’d been able to talk freely once they’d ensured no listening devices or cameras were in place. Dillon had mentioned that their scouring of the private room might appear over the top, but he’d been in situations where information had been leaked and enemies had discovered his whereabouts, planting spyware. Vann knew all about that shit.
“So,” Dillon said, pushing his plate to one side, “describe Wickland. We need to be aware of exactly who he is in case your part of the mission fails. Any distinguishing marks that would set him apart from everyone else? We don’t want to Taser anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” He paused. “And damn, not knowing who is good and who is bad there puts pressure on us.” He sighed. “Still, it’s something we can’t change, so I suggest we don’t stress over it.”
Vann didn’t even know who was good or bad. Except for his family and a few others, everyone else had seemed to fit quite snugly into Bennett’s pocket. Then again, they’d had no choice. It was obey or die, simple as that.
Better the devil you know…
He took a deep breath before answering. Bringing Wickland’s face to mind, he shivered. The image wasn’t the nicest thing he’d had to study. The thought of looking into those eyes again gave him the goddamn creeps, but he had to do it to save the Crossways pack.
“Yeah, he’s easy to spot. Think Bennett but a little taller—maybe six-five. Dark, shaved hair. You can see his scalp. His eyes are blue, but a light color that borders on white. Fucking—excuse my language—eerie. And they bulge, like when someone’s angry. Red rimmed too. And he’s got this weird thing going on with his skin, like he’s scarred on both cheeks but I think it might be from having acne years ago. Or maybe he got into a fight, I don’t know.” Vann shivered again. “But the most distinguishing thing is he has a cleft in his chin, a deep one, and in the middle of that is a large mole.”
Dillon narrowed his eyes. Maybe he was visualizing the man in his head, or maybe he was already thinking about his next question. Whatever he was doing, Vann got the sense Dillon had several contingency plans stored in that brain of his and that the Highgate group would all get out of the mission alive with Dillon running the show.
I have to believe that. The alternative… No, I won’t go there. Kip may pick up on my fear and I can’t stand that.
“Where does he hang out?” Dillon asked, pushing the Crossways drawing into the center of the table so everyone could see.
“There.” Vann pointed to a study just off the main foyer. “He calls it his control room. His job, before Bennett got caught, was the same as yours. Head of Security. So he has monitors that show all directions of the compound. He stays up late into the night, so there’ll be no worries about speaking to him when we arrive. But that study… I hate the damn thing. It brings back horrible memories.”
“So you’ve been in there?” Dillon took a sip of water, eyeing Vann over the glass rim.
“Once. Almost got caught. Wickland had gone to speak to the guards and hadn’t locked the door. I wanted to see where the cameras were trained so me and Kip would know where we could get out without being seen.” That time had had him fraught with anxiety. His blood had gone cold, his skin clammy. He’d asked himself what the hell he was playing at but there had been no choice if he and Kip were to get away successfully.
Dillon stroked his chin. “Yeah, you mentioned that. The way we get in is here, right?” He pressed a finger to a row of hedges that, with Vann’s limited artistic ability, looked like puffy clouds. A kid’s drawing.
“Yes, sir—er yes, Dillon. The cameras don’t quite cover that whole area, so there’s a gap between images that get transmitted. As the view on screen showed me, we’ll have about twenty feet before we’d appear on either of those monitors.”
“So we’ll be seen regardless, because we’ll be breaching that twenty feet.” Dillon’s face showed no expression.
“Which is why we agreed I’d enter the compound the proper way—via the front driveway.” Vann squeezed Kip’s hand under the table after feeling Kip’s slight apprehension sliding through him.
“It has to be this way, Kip. You know that. You may answer me.”