Burning Bright (19 page)

Steve’s chest vibrated against Sasha’s cheek as he growled. The music around them drowned out any sound of it.

“Calm down, Steve, I’m okay.”

Steve’s gaze met his before swinging back toward the bar. A frown now crossed the larger man’s face.

“Where’d the Russian bastard go?”

Sasha turned. The empty glass sitting on the bar remained the only evidence of his chat with Vadim. The rangy blond had disappeared from sight.

“What did he have to say to you?”

“Actually quite a lot. I wished you’d waited before rushing over.”

Now Steve’s frown turned toward him.

Great.

“Well, you can tell us in Neal’s office. He’s headed this way.”

Sasha looked over to see Neal working his way through the crowd toward them. He didn’t look too pleased, either. And, Sasha missed most of his lover’s show.

Could the evening get any better?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Allies

On Sunday after breakfast, Sasha dressed for a run and set out, eyes everywhere. Neal would tell him to forego it after the bear scare and Kiril’s visit, but he refused to hide. Deciding to be careful and stick to well-populated areas, Sasha planned to keep his empathy up as an early warning system. Now that he knew what bears felt like to his empathy, he could go on a cat hunt. He could avoid any bears that might appear.

Since Felipe accosted him, he’d been expecting it again. On Friday when he’d run, he felt jaguars, but they watched him in silence and made no move to speak or even approach him. Yesterday, Mitch ran with him and the only company they’d encountered had been the mysterious bear. Now,
Sasha
would hunt
them
.

His shoes chilled his feet but warmed on the way to the lakeside path. His watch said 10:50, and most of the early morning crowd had thinned out, but enough people jogged or walked to set his mind at ease.

Two Latino men loitered ahead, taking a break and stretching. The one on the left turned and walked off toward the street, and his companion turned toward Sasha.

It was Felipe.

The jaguar turned and set off at a fast jog in the other direction. Struck by a sudden mean streak, Sasha took off after him.

They ran along the lake, past rolling grass parks all the way to Montrose. The path split, one toward the lake and one toward the harbor. Felipe headed for the lake and disappeared behind some maintenance buildings.

Sasha sped up and came around the first one. Felipe stood in the path, waiting for him. Sasha stumbled to a stop and they stared at each other, both breathing hard.

Sasha took a step forward and the jaguar backed up. They froze. Sasha grinned, he couldn’t help it. To his surprise, Felipe smiled back.

Okay then.

Sasha whirled and took off toward home. Felipe ran behind him, matching his speed. They raced between the trees and other joggers, even zoomed past several cyclists.

Once they neared the intersection where Sasha would turn to go back to his apartment, Felipe slowed and stopped. Sasha watched him but the Latino said nothing, turned to the parking lot and pulled his keys from a lariat around his neck.

Sasha followed. Playing chase had been fun, but he did want to speak with the man. Sasha just didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say. Felipe stopped, waiting by the sidewalk that circled the parked cars.

“You’re Felipe, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “You’re the doctor.”

“Sasha.”

“Nice to meet you.” He hesitated and looked uncomfortable. “Sorry about—” he waved his hand, “—that.”

“No problem,” Sasha told him. “Neal explained it.”

“He did?”

Sasha nodded. “I’m an animal empath.”

Felipe’s eyes widened. He said something softly in Spanish.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Never mind.” Felipe cocked his head. “Why are you out here alone?”

Sasha blinked. “I live near here.”

“Yeah, but why are you
here
, alone?”

“’Cause I wanted to take a jog?”

“The Russians want you bad,
guapo
. It’s not a good idea to give them what they want.”

He went cold. “They don’t know where I live.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Felipe retorted. He studied Sasha. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“
You
don’t know where I live.”

“No?” Felipe countered. “Get in, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He sighed and came around to the passenger side of a dark blueberry Corvette. The thing cost as much as a milking machine, for the love of the Gods. More, maybe.

“You really a doctor?” Felipe asked.

He nodded. “Veterinary trauma surgeon. I specialize in large animals and exotics. I did a lot of work for zoos and stuff. I came to Chicago to find work.”

Felipe’s eyes flashed at him, dark brown and curious. “Doing what?”

“At Northwestern University, they’re hoping to open a new facility. I’ll find out this week if I get it. Turn here.”

“I know where you live,” Felipe told him softly.

“How?” he demanded, a spurt of fear going through him.

“It’s part of my job. Have you thought of opening a clinic here?”

“A clinic?”

“For lycanthropes.”

He frowned. “Lycanthropes aren’t animals.”

“Our other form is,” he countered. “And there are many of us here.”

“I’m not licensed to work on humans, though.”

Felipe shrugged. “There are ways around that.”

“Yeah, that would land me in jail.” Sasha laughed. “I’m not going to take on the AMA.”

“AMA?”

“American Medical Association.”

“Don’t tell them.” Felipe pulled up in front of Sasha’s apartment. “Just think about it.”

“Why are you nice to me, all of a sudden?”

“If I was mean to you, you’d know it.” The shifter seemed very serious as he stared at Sasha. “I wasn’t being mean before, I was confused. You don’t smell right. You smell…too good.”

He blushed. “Thanks.”

Felipe looked impatient. “I don’t mean that. You smell…it’s like magic. You ever talk to a shaman?”

He blinked. “Yes…”

“It’s like that. It’s like you smell good to a shaman, you know? It’s confusing. But Kiril said the same thing.”

“Kiril.” His whole body went ice-cold. “Kiril, the bear?”

Felipe nodded. “He says you ‘feel’ good, but you smell good too. Like honey. And beeswax.”

He flushed hot enough he could feel his face burn. “Honey?”

Felipe nodded again. “Honey.”

The butt-balm used beeswax, and his shampoo had honey in it. Fuck. “I…”

Felipe laughed, his teeth very white. “Go. Be safe, Sasha.”

He blinked, not expecting Felipe to use his name. “Thanks. And thanks for the ride.”

He got out and watched Felipe pull away, the Corvette roaring like a large cat. Sasha eyed the street, but no one moved. The cars sat there, ignoring him and his fantasies of crazy Russians jumping out to assault him or bears coming to sniff him.

Chilled, he went inside and made double sure the lock closed and latched behind him. Maybe he should ask Neal for one of those guns the big man said he had.

Might need it, if Russians came calling…

Chapter Twenty-Three

A Quiet Evening

Steve brought him back to the Factory but then disappeared downstairs, saying something about an errand. Sasha started to get a feeling, but Neal made dinner without commenting.

Of course, the man could
cook
. “Another great meal. I love the vegetarian dishes you think up.” Sasha stood and started stacking the dirty plates.

“Sit down, let’s talk.”

Crap. “Sure, haven’t we been talking?” Sasha grinned and hoped it didn’t look weak.

“It’s about you playing with Carlos and Steve.”

Sasha nodded, hoping his face hid his dismay. He’d really enjoyed his time with the other men and would miss it. Multiple lovers, but ones who were committed to each other, was his dream. This new relationship building between himself and Neal rated high on his importance list too. Steve’s gentleness and caring, Carlos’s exuberance and humor, though, already won spots in his heart.

“I don’t mind it at all,” Neal said then.

Sasha’s heart flipped over. “You don’t?”

“There’s a ‘but’,” the big man said sternly, holding up one long finger.

Damn. There was always a “but”.

“No scenes with Carlos being the Dom. You can top him anytime, and rough sex is fine, but no further.”

Sasha frowned. “If Steve is doing it or is there?”

“Steve’s fine, everything he does is about giving pleasure. When the three of you play, Steve will be in charge. Carlos doesn’t have the experience or self-control to run a scene.” Neal’s face darkened. “Despite what he thinks.”

“Do you really think he’d hurt me?”

“He wouldn’t mean to.” Neal reached across the table and laid a hand on Sasha’s arm.

A slight prickling tickled him and he looked down. “Shit.”

Claws, four inches long and shiny jet black, capped Neal’s fingers. They stroked his arm and Sasha had to force himself to listen to his new lover and not flinch. Or yank his arm away from those scythes.

“Seeing you tied up and helpless pushes all of his buttons, for Carlos and his tiger. And never forget, now that you know, that there is a tiger inside all of us. Feeling it by using your empathy is a lot different than meeting it while you are in restraints.”

Concern showed in Neal’s eyes and it touched him. “I trust your judgment.”

Neal nodded and looked relieved. Glancing down again, normal fingers now rested on his arm. Damn. “Uh, could you do it again?”

“The Wolverine thing?” Neal asked with a smirk. Then he sobered. “It does kinda hurt.”

Sasha did his best puppy-dog eyes.

“Geez, okay.”

This time when they popped out, Sasha prepared himself. He lifted Neal’s hand, examining how the curved claws exited the fingertip. He compared it to his studies on big cats, fascinated. Wondering how it would differ from that of Felipe, he rotated one around. The slight jiggling of the hand he held caused him to glance at Neal’s face. Mirth reddened it and he dropped Neal’s hand, embarrassed.

That hand moved to cup his jaw. “I’m sorry. You accepting me is huge.”

“But you were wondering if I was gonna ask for a stool sample.”

“Geez, gross… You want one?”

“Well, I
am
interested your ass, but not for that reason.”

Neal stood and pulled Sasha to his feet as well. “That wasn’t quite how I intended for our talk to go.”

Sasha laughed. “I figured. Let me help you with the dishes then we can neck on the couch.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

When Neal squeezed Sasha’s ass later it caused him to spill a pot of soapy water all down his front. Returning after changing into Neal’s robe, Sasha watched the other man’s gaze darken with desire when he walked to him.

“Come here, sexy,” Neal growled.

Sasha stepped into his embrace. Gods the man could kiss. He lost track of time until Neal lifted his head. “Yeah, Steve?”

Sasha lifted on his toes to peer over Neal’s shoulder. Steve shifted from foot to foot, just outside the kitchen.

“I guess this means you don’t want to watch movies at my place tonight, huh?”

“What?” Neal rubbed his scalp. “What are you talking about?”

“Movies, my place. It’s Monday tomorrow, closed downstairs, lazy morning. We do it every week. This ringing any bells?”

Sasha laughed. “Let’s go before he starts whining.”

Steve’s eyes widened and pleasure replaced disappointment. “I do
not
whine.”

“Yeah, sure you don’t. Let’s go.”

He looked around, wondering what to wear. He didn’t bring any sleep pants, since he and Neal slept together naked. Wiggling back into wet jeans didn’t appeal to him, nor his dirty jogging stuff. Eyeing Neal’s six-foot-four frame, he wouldn’t be sharing with his lover—clothes, anyway. Their eyes met and Neal seemed to read his mind.

“The robe’s good enough.”

Aliens
already played by the time they walked in, the smell of popcorn and beer heavy in the room. Platters of finger foods fit for a Presidential cocktail party perched in bowls and plates scattered around the room. Two large mattresses lay on the floor and Carlos, Mitch and Paul all lay back in a mound of pillows. Anton, Leo and Misha lay on the other one, Anton’s eyes already heavy-lidded—though from alcohol or sleepiness, Sasha couldn’t tell.

TJ walked in from the kitchen, but faltered when he met Sasha’s gaze. Sasha had a flash of hazel eyes before he looked away.

“I found the bottle opener,” TJ told the three on the floor.

“Here, toss it,” Mitch ordered.

Neal walked onto the mattress, kicking Mitch’s leg out of the way. Sasha followed and Mitch leered. Sasha flushed as he held the flapping robe close to his thighs and stepped over the other man.

“Shut up,” Sasha muttered before Mitch could say anything.

Mitch laughed but behaved himself. Steve got himself a huge bowl of strawberries from the fridge as Mario walked in, carrying a tray of lasagna.

It seemed like home. Sasha curled up on Neal and snuggled into the mattress, content.

Sasha woke to a heated, large body curled around him. The sensation familiar, he smiled as he curled closer. The robe slipped off sometime during the night, but all the warm bodies kept him comfortable. He slipped his hand down the front of the muscled abdomen toward the thick cock waiting. Before he got there, his movements were halted by a strong grip in his hair. The tattoos on the arm holding him alerted him to the fact he’d nearly groped Paul.

“What are you doing?” Paul asked.

When in doubt, play it bold… “Um, saying ‘Good morning’ to you?”

The fingers tangled in his hair pulled and he sprawled over an inked chest. A grin grew on Paul’s face.

“Didn’t they tell you I’m straight?”

Embarrassment stole through Sasha’s chest, heating his skin and making him tingle. Wincing, the conversation between Paul and Mario in the kitchen days ago popped into his head. His gay-dar never so much as bleeped around the other man; how the fuck was he supposed to pass this off?