Trickster (2 page)

His resolve lasted until he heard a
knock on his office door. “Come in.”

The door opened and a man poked his
head into the room. “Mr. Smith? I’m Mark Fellowes, one of the contract
programmers. Fazia said that I should stop in and introduce myself?”

The mating scent smacked Delaney
hard in the nose. His cock didn’t just throb, it
pulsed
, going so rigid against his fly that he could have pounded
nails with it. Details from the CV flickered through his mind: Mark Matthew Fellowes,
29, BA in computer programming from SMU, extensive experience in financial security
protocols, liked running and swimming.

In person, his mate turned out to
be a slim 5’11”, with a cap of curly light brown hair and grey-blue eyes behind
silly hipster glasses. A combination of a snub nose, full upper lip and heavy
eyebrows gave him the look of a slightly cranky faun. None of it was what
Delaney had expected in a mate, but he realized with a surprising shock of joy
that it didn’t matter. Even human, Mark was perfect just the way he was.

Now all Delaney had to do was explain
that Mark was his mate, woo him, fuck him, and mark him.
Yeah, that’s not going to be a problem at all. Oh, boy.

Mark was still at the door, waiting
patiently. “I’m sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked.

“Uh, no, sorry. Come on in,”
Delaney said, tugging his jacket across his groin as he stood and extended a
hand. “Call me Delaney. Mr. Smith sounds like an alias.”

“Delaney, got it.” Mark took his
hand, and the simple touch sent tingles racing over Delaney’s skin. His coyote yipped
at him to pull his delicious human down for an afternoon of hot pounding sex, rounded
off with a mating bite.
Slow, goddamn it.

“Sorry, I’m a little out of it,” he
said out loud, reluctantly letting go of Mark’s hand. “Still in vacation mode,
you know?”

Mark nodded, oblivious. “I was
going to give you an update on the Lone Star project, but if you’re busy now we
can get together later.”

Get together.
Delaney had a sudden image of Mark spread out on his desk, face flushed and
mouth open as Delaney slowly, lovingly fucked him senseless. Clearing his
throat, he sat back down, grateful for the desk’s camouflage. “No, it’s fine. Let’s
do this now.”

The next half hour was the longest,
most torturous one of the shifter’s life. As his cock and balls burned with the
need to claim his mate, he tried to focus on Mark’s words about the Lone Star
Credit Union’s system upgrades. It didn’t help that he was constantly
distracted by the play of muscles in Mark’s hands, or the way his tongue
slipped out every so often to wet his lips. Delaney could just imagine that
tongue wrapped around his shaft, sliding oh so sweetly over the head and lapping
up the pearls of precum forming there, before those lips parted and sucked him
into hot, wet heaven—

“—aney?”

Delaney snapped back to reality. “Yes?”

Mark’s brows creased, as if he knew
what the other man had been thinking. “I was just asking if you have any
questions?”

Thank God Scott had left him a
printed list of milestones for the project. Scrabbling for the piece of paper, Delaney
zoomed through them, barely absorbing Mark’s replies. His coyote was also
scrabbling inside, desperate to get out and leap on his mate.

Finally, there was nothing more but
to stand, mutter some pleasantries and shake Mark’s hand again. This time,
Delaney held on, unable to resist pouring his need into the grip.
Come on, babe, show me you feel it too.

While they didn’t have a mating
link yet, he was still aware of everything going on in Mark’s body. As they
held hands he could sense his mate’s heartbeat speeding up, along with
respiration. The scent deepened, enriched by a thread of desire.

Behind those hipster frames, blue
eyes turned dark as Mark’s pupils dilated, the involuntary reflex of
attraction. His mate’s bottom lip dropped slightly, mouth open in surprise.
He’s getting it!
Yes!
Relieved, Delaney leaned over the desk, ready for their first
kiss.

And got nothing but air as Mark’s
hand jerked out of his grip. “What the hell are you doing?” the human yelped,
almost tripping over his feet as he backed up.

Aw, shit.
Delaney straightened up, trying for a charming “aw shucks” smile. “Um, I ... wanted
to kiss you?”

Mark’s jaw dropped. “You —what? Why?”

“Well, I’m very attracted to you. I
mean very,
very
attracted.” He turned
up the wattage on his smile. “And I’m pretty sure you feel the same way about
me.”

“I—” His mate’s scent changed and
not in a good way, anger flooding it and adding a hot undertone. “For your
information, I’m not gay.”

He can’t smell you, Del, not like that. Use your words.
“I’m not saying you are. Maybe you’re
just heteroflexible. But I do know you’re attracted to me,” Delaney said, trying
to sound persuasive. “There’s nothing wrong with that. And believe me, I want
you back just as much. If it’s all right with you, I’d really like to take you
out for a drink after work and get to know you better. I think we could have
something amazing together, if you just give me a chance.”

Mark’s mouth worked silently for a
moment, raising Delaney’s hopes. They crashed to earth as the human said, “Okay,
I don’t even know where to tell you just how wrong you are. Not to mention how
deeply I’m offended by your behavior. This is an office, Mr. Smith, not a blind
date. Or a booty call. And for your information I have a girlfriend.”

Delaney sniffed, analyzing. There
was a very faint odor of a woman, but none of the scents associated with an
active sex life. “I bet you haven’t gotten her into bed yet, have you?” He
grinned. “I promise you, that won’t be a problem with me.”

Furious color flooded Mark’s face. “Normally
I don’t say things like this to an employer, Mr. Smith. But you can go fuck
yourself.” He spun and stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

So much for slow.
Delaney sat back down, resisting the urge to smack his forehead on his
desk.
Yeah, that definitely could have
gone better. And if he goes to Human Resources to complain, Scott is gonna kill
me.

He eyed his computer.
Okay, here’s a thought. Now that the little
head struck out, how about we let the big head make the next move?
Ignoring
the persistent throbbing below his waist, he pulled over the keyboard and called
up Trickster Tech’s HR files.

It was time to do a little bit of
background research on his mate.

Chapter Two

“Oh, that is just ridiculous!” Caren
huffed over the phone. “Sweetie, you need to report him to someone.”

“I think he’s one of the company owners,”
Mark said, holding his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he tightened
his running shoes. It was early evening now, and he was still pissed off at
Delaney Smith.
Owner or not, who the hell
does he think he is, pulling that kind of shit?

“If I had any idea that he would
try something like that, I never would have suggested you apply for the job,” Caren
said. “He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this kind of thing. Really,
Mark, you need to talk to the CEO about this.”

Mark grimaced. By rights, he knew
he should contact Scott Devlin about his CTO’s behavior. But he hated the idea
of having to tell someone other than Caren that another man had come on to him so
blatantly.

Especially since he didn’t want to
remember how it had made him feel. The sheer presence that the taller man radiated,
the sense of comfort and home, of
rightness
.
And the split-second sensation of wanting to lean over the desk and open his
mouth to Smith’s kiss, just to see if he tasted as good as he looked.

Not to mention the traitorous
twitch of his cock.
I’m not gay. I have Caren.
It was just a momentary blip. For Christ’s sake, everyone gets those.

“Mark? Are you still there?”

He shook his head. “Yeah, sorry
honey. I’ll go talk to Devlin tomorrow.” He fiddled with a shoelace, easer to
turn the phone call onto a more pleasant subject. “I was wondering, do you want
to get dinner or go see a movie tomorrow night?”

A sigh on the other end of the
phone. “Sweetie, I’m just so swamped this week. Can we do it next weekend? I
promise, I’ll leave Friday open for you. We can even go see that comic book
movie you wanted to see, the one with that cute British actor.”

Mark stamped down a flare of
disappointment. They’d been going out for a month, and he’d gotten maybe four
dates in total with the gorgeous brunette, all of which had ended with a kiss
at the door and him going home to whack off in the shower. But Caren was an
up-and-coming executive at her company, determined to climb the corporate
ladder, and he didn’t want to seem pushy or stand in her way.
Who knows—maybe after a couple of hours of
checking out the God of Mischief’s ass, she’ll be in the mood to fool around.
“Okay, it’s a date. I’ll talk to you later.”

“All right, sweetie. Have a good
night. And don’t forget to call Devlin first thing tomorrow.”

The call ended. With a sigh, he
slid the phone into his shorts pocket and started his stretches.

****

Taking a deep breath of the warm
evening air, Mark jogged along the apartment complex road. His usual path was
once around the complex, then out on the street and through an adjoining
neighborhood that catered to people with salaries in the high six figures.
Normally he liked looking at the different architecture types and gardening
styles as he ran, but tonight Smith’s face kept swimming into memory.

Damn
the
man. Why did Smith have to come on so strong, anyway? Mark was used to being
hit on by gay guys; with his height and build, he knew he fell squarely in the
twink category. But they usually shrugged and smiled apologetically when he
told them he was straight. No harm, no foul. Hell, if he was honest with
himself, he usually felt flattered by the attention.

But not with Delaney Smith. Something
about the tall, lanky man nagged at him. No, it
pulled
at him. And he had no freaking idea why.

Something moved in his peripheral vision.
He glanced over and saw a low shape moving between the cars parked along the side
of the street, a flash of brown fur and a fluffy tail.
Oh, shit. Someone’s dog got loose.

He stopped, panting and leaning
over. Suburban drivers could be particularly careless, especially at night. If
he could convince the dog to come to him, he could check for a collar and,
please God, a tag with a phone number. “Pooch?” he called, slapping a thigh. “C’mere,
boy.”

Nothing. He walked out into the road,
expecting to see it hiding next to one of the cars. But the road was empty.

He added a whistle, peering under
the cars. “C’mere, boy. I won’t hurt you. I just want to check your collar.”

The animal didn’t appear. Frowning,
he went back to the sidewalk.
That’s really
weird. I could have sworn I saw a dog.
He waited another moment, then shook
his head and started back into his run.

This time, he didn’t see the shape
following him.

****

Now pleasantly sweaty and achy, he
jogged back to the apartment complex. Opening his door, he flashed on storming
out of Smith’s office that morning.
Good
thing he didn’t come after me, right?

Oddly, part of him didn’t agree.
Oh, for God’s sake, just stop thinking
about him. You can go talk to Devlin tomorrow.
What he needed now was a hot
shower, a quick jack-off session while thinking about his girlfriend, thank you
very much, and then maybe he could get some sleep—

Two men jerked up as he walked into
the living room. He had enough time to see his laptop bag, very obviously open
and rifled through on the sofa.

Panic slammed into him and he spun,
grabbing for the front door handle. Before he could get out a heavy hand landed
on his shoulder, dragging him backwards. “Get back here, you little shit,” a
deep voice growled.

Mark found himself flying through
the air and landed awkwardly on one of the easy chairs, gasping at a bright
flare of pain from his hip. Scrambling, he tried to climb over the side but was
yanked down again.

Wincing, he looked up at a tall,
heavyset man with wavy red hair and bad skin in dark clothing. The other burglar,
a shorter man with greasy brown hair and a thin mustache, came around the
couch, holding the empty computer bag. “Where’s your laptop?” he said.

“W-what?”

“Laptop,” Greasy repeated, hefting
the bag and sounding annoyed. “Don’t fuck with us, man. Just give us the
goddamn laptop.”

Mark’s eyes widened in horror. After
Smith’s blatant come-on, he’d been too pissed off to go back to his cubicle,
going home instead to fume. Which meant that his laptop was still on his
cubicle desk. “A-at work.”