Jacks, Marcy - The Hunter's Omega Mate [DeWitt's Pack 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (10 page)

It was a plain, rectangular house, nicer than some of the others by way of the fact that the roof  didn’t look ready to fall off, and that there was none of that plastic sheeting stuck over any broken windows. There were no broken windows either for that matter.

Despite this, it was still a far cry from the main house, where,

Isaac had been told, the alpha, his mate, the beta, and the pack’s wise

woman all resided.

Wonder what she’s like?

“I share this house and the rooms with two other omegas, but I’m

the oldest, so I get the biggest room.”

Isaac was only interested in if Tristan also got the biggest bed.

The house appeared to be empty, and it was no wonder why. The

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middle of the day, with work to be done, the two other omegas Tristan  spoke of would likely be off helping the rest of the pack, pulling their  weight, not lounging around here.

For the first  time, it occurred to Isaac that he might have only  been offered this time alone with Tristan in order for eyes to be kept  on the both of them.

“This is my room.”

Tristan seemed proud of the announcement, and though it was  certainly nothing special to behold, it was definitely better than some  of the places Isaac had laid his head for the night.

Because of the size of the house and the fact that Tristan’s room

was definitely the largest, his room took up an entire end of the  rectangular house. There were windows on all three sides, allowing  for excellent air flow and light. The furnishings were old and sparse,  but Isaac could smell how clean the room was. Bed was a little small,

but two could definitely squeeze in.

“You’re safe here, you don’t have to worry,” Tristan said, his  hands sliding up the flesh of Isaac’s neck, his fingers rubbing into his  hair.

It seemed his thoughts had been going in a similar place to

Isaac’s.

“Did you mean what you said? About us being mates?” he asked.

“I did,” Tristan said. “I  didn’t even realize it until you asked me

for my e-mail address, but you are—we are—mates.”

Isaac blew a long breath out through his mouth.

“Are you okay with that?”

“Oh, yeah.” Isaac nodded, his heart doing these mild little jumps  in his chest that made his head feel thick. “I just never knew  werewolves could mate with people outside of their own species.”

“Well, it wasn’t like I did it on purpose. We just find them. The  same way James found Corey. To be honest, though, usually a mate is  found with a female. Breeding and all that.”

Isaac looked at him. “Even Deacon?”

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Tristan nodded. “He would never let his mate watch him lay claim to anyone else, especially another man, but if you’re attracted to the same sex, but you’re mated with a female ”—

He trailed off and shrugged, as though the answer were clear.

And it was. The only solution to that sort of problem really would be to just have as much sex outside of the mated relationship as possible, or else go insane.

That’s how Isaac thought of it, and it was certainly what would happen to him if he ever found out he had to bond himself forever with a woman he felt no sexual pull for.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t still planning on ripping the head from that fucker’s shoulders.

“Don’t think about it,” Tristan said, apparently seeing where  Isaac’s thoughts had gone.

His lips were still soft when they kissed. They were slightly more  pink and plump when he pulled away, too.

God. For a werewolf, even an omega werewolf, Tristan looked so  vulnerable. “It doesn’t mean you have to  stay,” he said. “I know that’s  a lot to take in, and I won’t hold it against you if you want to leave.”

Isaac licked his lips, his palm reaching out to the back of Tristan’s  blond head of shaggy hair. “Came this far with you, didn’t I?”

He had no idea if he would ever want to stay within the ranks of  an actual werewolf pack, but he already made his decision the second  he sprang from his hiding place in Deacon’s territory.

He wanted Tristan. He wasn’t about to let anyone else take him  either.

Maybe it was a  werewolf mating thing, but again, Tristan seemed to read Isaac’s thought, and his green eyes sparkled like an emerald in firelight. With more strength than Isaac was aware he had, Tristan pulled him close and meshed their lips together.

For the next several seconds, their brains went on vacation as their

mouths worked, hands roamed, and hips collided together.

Oh yeah. That was exactly what Isaac wanted.

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Isaac fell to his knees, pulling at the strings of the gray joggers  James had brought for Tristan during their meeting. It took no time at all, and too much time, to pull them down and let Tristan’s cock spring free.

For the first time, Isaac allowed himself to admire it. He was

cut—he hadn’t realized werewolves did that—and thick, with heavy

veins running up the base of his prick, reaching the swollen head.

“Please stop looking at it and just put it in your mouth,” Tristan  begged. He was leaning against the wall and was staring down at  Isaac, eager and waiting as patiently as a man developing blue balls  could.

“Like this?”

Isaac opened his mouth and proceeded to worship the organ in

front of him.

Tristan released a throaty gasp, his head banging against the wall behind him, his hips pumping in small, jerky movements.

This was the first time Isaac had blown Tristan, and he was eager to see just how the other man would react to this kind of torture.

Isaac stretched his hands out, palms flat against the wall behind his lover to keep his balance, and as he bobbed his head, he tightened his lips and swirled his tongue, coming up then sinking back down, up, then down again.

On the next trip up, he gently scraped his teeth along the sensitive flesh of Tristan’s cock, stopping just under the head.

That made Tristan’s eyes pop open.

“Not…not that I’m not—enjoying that—
fuck
—but having someone biting down on my dick kinda freaks me out.”

Isaac had to pull away before he bit down for real with laughter.  He lost his balance on his knees and went down onto his ass, staring up at Tristan and laughing like he never had in so many years.

Tristan’s face was red with humiliation and probably a little anger.  “Yeah, yeah,” he said, reaching down and helping Isaac to his feet.

Naked, he went over to an ugly blue painted nightstand and pulled

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out a tube from the only drawer. “We can actually use some of this,

now.”

“Let me guess, you have a Kleenex box under your bed, too?”

Tristan stiffened, and Isaac laughed again, rushing over to him,  grabbing him by the waist, and throwing him down onto the bed  before climbing on top of him like he  was getting ready to claim a  prize.

They kissed some more, but there were more important matters at  hand, and Isaac got back to his knees long enough to take off his  jacket and pull his shirt over his head. Tristan started licking and  playing with his nipples by the time he reached down for his belt,  which slowed things, but Isaac was too horny to be put off track by  more foreplay.

He finally got his pants off and, despite the urgency of the  situation, was careful to put his clothing neatly on top of Tristan’s  nightstand, still aware of all the guns in his holsters and how he didn’t  want them strewn carelessly across the floor.

Then it was back down to business.

Though Tristan had already taken Isaac inside of him, Isaac was still careful to use as much of the lubrication as possible. The tube wasn’t exactly small, but Isaac definitely used more than half of it, eagerly watching Tristan’s face, each squeeze of his eyes shut, every openmouthed gasp he made as Isaac tortured his prostate.

“I love you,” he said.

Tristan’s eyes popped open at the declaration. Isaac hadn’t even thought about it before he’d said it. It was just there. Like stating a fact, no different than if he’d suddenly pointed out that the sky was blue.

Tristan reached for him. “I love you.”

Isaac never thought he could feel so happy over something so small. Tristan lifted one of his legs over Isaac’s shoulder, and this time, unlike the last times they’d been together, it was lovemaking.  The kind of torturously slow, thrusting, kissing, looking into each

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others’ eyes sort of thing that Isaac had never experienced before.

What he liked the most was the way Tristan held him, squeezing  him tighter as he moaned, thrusting his hips to meet Isaac.

They stayed almost perfectly in sync with each other until the  pleasure built, and Isaac could take no more and he had to come.

All thoughts of lovemaking vanished in favor of just reaching the  end, and thankfully, Tristan was on the same page as we was about it  as he shifted his hips in time to meet Isaac.

He  started speaking gibberish as Isaac slammed into him. “Oh,  Christ, fuck me, yeah.”

It sounded something like that, but repeated over and over again  ten times fast.

Isaac wasn’t sure how this mate thing worked, but as far as
 
soul
mates went, he knew he’d found his, and he was never going to let  Tristan get away from him again.

The room felt like it had gone up a hundred degrees since they’d started, but despite the heat, Isaac was happy to let Tristan pull him close on top of the covers of his bed.

Isaac hesitated for a moment before he allowed himself to sink

into the embrace, hardly remembering the last time someone had ever

lovingly held him like this before. Or at all, for that matter.

He hadn’t known he’d needed it so badly until Tristan offered it to

him.

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Chapter Eleven

“How did your family pass?”

The question was quietly asked, almost fearfully, like Tristan was

afraid of the reaction Isaac would have.

He did tense up a little in Tristan’s arms, not having seen the question coming, considering the way they were relaxing lazily, squished comfortably together on Tristan’s small bed.

Isaac had already told him, that his family had been murdered by werewolves, so this could only mean that Tristan was asking for specifics.

“I was fifteen,” Isaac said, doing his best to relax in Tristan’s embrace, and reminding himself that Tristan was not a thing like those monsters he’d seen way back then. “Nine years ago, my dad rented a cottage from his boss to take us out for some fun for the long weekend before summer. There was a private lake there, with a dock, some paddle boats, a fire pit. You name it and it was probably there.”

The whole time he spoke, Tristan made soothing rubbing motions along Isaac’s arm, and he was extremely grateful for it. It kept him

grounded here in the present, instead of falling completely back into  his morbid past.

“It was only our second day there, and I can remember it like it  was yesterday. Dad was at the barbecue making supper, Mom was  calling me and Steve out of the water to wash  up and get ready, but I  was being a brat about it. I kept stalling, swimming around, didn’t  want to go in and eat the food my dad was making.”

His breath caught a little at the memory, wishing, like he always  did, that he hadn’t been so ungrateful, that he’d come in, said that he

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loved them, and fucking
 
did
 
something to protect them.

“Eventually she lost her patience and waved me off, stopped  calling me, and went back in with Steve, my little brother,” he  clarified. “Maybe she said something to Dad, I don’t know, but ten  minutes later they’re all walking back down to the water with plates  of food and blankets, like they’re going to eat on the dock. I didn’t  want to get yelled at by my dad, so I was about to come in when they  attacked.”

Isaac still shivered as he recalled the speed in which those massive animals sped out of the trees and toward his mother first. They were like brown blurs with teeth.

“They didn’t even see them coming. Dad got out a scream, tried to  pull Steve away before the next one tore his  arm and head off like a  shark or something. The third wolf put his teeth around Steve’s whole  torso and bit down.”

Tristan was holding him now, and Isaac thought he just might cry without that comfort. “I hid under the dock and could hear the sounds