Lone Wolf - 2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Come on Bry,” Carson protested. “Why can’t you go on a double-date with us?”

“Because I’ve never met this girl, so, technically it would be a blind-date and not a double-date—”

Carson stomped around the living room. “You honestly want to pass up a perfectly good piece of ass?” he interrupted his brother.

Bryson smiled. The memory of his tryst in the parking lot outside of the Iron Side was still fresh in his mind. Beautiful was the most perfect piece of ass that Bryson had ever fucked.

Carson picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it at him. “Mary Jo said the word around the hospital is that Samantha is really into kinky stuff.” Back in college Bryson had gotten the reputation for being a sexual voyeur after an ex-girlfriend gossiped about his fetish for anal sex. Bryson shook his shaggy head and laughed.

Carson and Mary Jo fucked like wild bunnies every chance they got. If they didn’t walk down the aisle real soon, she was gonna be knocked up with a litter of puppies before too much longer. A knowing smile crept across Carson’s face as he gave his brother a wicked grin. “Who is she?”

“What?” Bryson’s eyes opened wide with surprise. “Don’t give me that crap! You disappeared just before the lunar cycle—”

“I made it back in time for the hunt.”

“The hunt, yeah, but you missed the gathering altogether. I thought Dad was going to freak.”

Bryson rolled his eyes and gave a casual shrug of his wide shoulders. “Who cares, Car? It’s not like I really have to be there anyways. You’re the one who’s gonna someday lead the pack.”

“I never asked to be pack successor,” Carson growled.

As the older twin, by two minutes, Carson was the rightful heir to the pack and Bryson was silently happy for him. He never wanted to lead, most of the time he could hardly follow. Bryson held up his hands suggesting surrender. He didn’t want to have the same argument that they’d had a zillion times over the years.

No matter how many times Bryson told him that he didn’t want to be pack leader, Carson still felt guilty about it. Bryson flopped onto the couch, kicked up his feet, and stretched his arms behind his head.

“Don’t change the subject, Bry. Who is she?”

“Nobody local,” Bryson shook his head, “and it probably doesn’t matter since I think I really screwed it up anyways.”

Carson frowned. Sexual relationships were always difficult when you threw Werewolves and Humans together. “You didn’t warn her?” Carson’s voice was harsh with surprise.

Bryson slowly shook his head.

“So, what did she say afterwards?” Carson impatiently waited for his brother’s answer.

Rubbing his hands over his face, Bryson grimaced even before the words spilled out. “I didn’t stick around to find out.”

* * * *

The days passed quickly. Bryson tried to keep himself busy at work, but his mind kept drifting off to piercing gray eyes hidden behind a row of thick black lashes.

As the moon filled the night sky, that familiar pull tugged deep in Bryson’s gut. Cold showers didn’t work. Jerking off did nothing to satisfy the hunger that came with the growing moon.

He couldn’t deny it anymore. If he didn’t let the animal loose, it was going to tear him apart.

* * * *

Driving through the darkness, Bryson tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the tempo of the song on the radio. The words didn’t really matter. He just needed to concentrate on the rhythm to keep his raging hormones under control.

After he made the decision to return to the Iron Side, he wanted to jump in his truck and race the two and a half hours to the bar right then, but he couldn’t. He had to force himself to calm down.

Amazingly, he somehow made it through work the next day. Showering and shaving in record time, Bryson was back on the road before the interior of his truck had even cooled off.

Chills tingled Bryson’s spine. Like last time, the parking lot was full. He wanted to rush inside, yet he hesitated. Moisture speckled his brow. Tipping his head to one side, he listened to the faint sound of music. It was too low for a human ear, but his sharp canine hearing could make out the melody.

Bryson also identified something else. It was familiar. It was the smell of musky, earthy, cinnamon…Beautiful! Bryson contemplated masturbating right there in the parking lot, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Just the thought of that black hair and those gorgeous gray eyes would have his prick instantly throbbing and aching again.

This time there was no initiation. The lock clicked open. Bryson walked in. A hush fell over the crowd. The eyes that wanted to devour him last time were now hard and cold as Beautiful stepped forward from the center of a group of men. An angry smirk curled his perfect red lips.

Bryson wanted to grab him and growl, “Mine!” He could smell the mark of the wolf on him. His mark! Beautiful was his!

The crowd formed a tight circle around the two of them. They were not going to let Bryson get away this time.

“What do you want?” Beautiful demanded.

“You,” Bryson held his breath. He knew vengeance was coming, but the blow still snapped his head back when Beautiful punched him, busting his lip open on a sharp fang. Blood dripped down his chin and the crowd cheered.