––––––––
Joey clenched his fists and screwed up his eyes. The pub door slammed and a branch creaked in the distance.
Hammersmith, High Street Kensington, King’s Cross.
Maybe he could salvage this. He hadn’t gone past the point of no return, not yet. His feet weren’t getting any more uncomfortable. His thighs were aching but not stinging.
But the heat was still there, the fire inside, and his skin tingled as though a hundred ants were swarming over it.
He dragged in a breath and the cool air filled his throat and lungs. He blew it out slowly, imagining his shifter self to be in every molecule that left his body.
The pressure in his feet settled, his shoes were comfortable once more.
He used the breathing and imagery technique again. As he let that breath out, he pictured spirals of gorilla and kangaroo DNA swirling into the lean-to and being sucked away by the storm, carried into the distance. He didn’t need that in his body anymore. He wanted to be normal. Oh, not that he minded being a shifter, but why couldn’t he have been just one animal, a wolf, or a puma, or maybe even a bird of some type? But kangorilla, a mixture of two creatures, it was just weird.
He was just weird.
Who would ever love him if they knew?
He was sure Ryder wouldn’t have even kissed him if he knew, let alone wank him off.
“Push it away,” he murmured. He released the hold he had on his hair and held his hands up. “Push it away.”
Thank God. The need to shift was receding and so was his erection. At least the compound had been good for something—it had given him an iota of control, something he hadn’t had when he’d left Australia. Back then he’d shifted at the drop of a hat, anything could set him off. Now he had a choice, it was only extreme emotions that got him going.
He pulled at his jeans and maneuvered his cock back into them. They were still tight, it would take a while for him to soften completely but at least he was decent if anyone came out for a cigarette.
He picked up his bag, walked to the entrance and looked out. The wide puddles in the car park appeared to be bubbling the raindrops pounding them were so fierce. The light above the cars was hazy in the wet air and circled with a halo, and the shadowy trees were bouncing back and forth leaning to the east then upright again in a seemingly never-ending dance.
The door into the pub was only a quick dash away.
Should he go back in?
Yes. He had to. He needed to see the others, find out what was happening.
Suddenly he remembered his phone had vibrated. He’d had a call or a text.
It was a text. He was to go to the safe house later.
But...? They’d gone? Left him? Surely Mason would have come hunting for him.
He put the phone away and a feeling of exhaustion ran over his body. That was often the way when he’d fought a shift. Add in a stupendous orgasm on top of that and really he wasn’t up for much other than bed—although he wouldn’t kick Ryder out of it if that was in the cards.
His stomach rumbled. He was hungry too? That was a good thing, right? He’d been used to having his food weighed out, every bit of nutrition calculated, but now, bloody hell, now he could eat and drink what he wanted.
He licked his lips. There was a hint of Ryder’s sweet flavor on them. Sweet—yes, he wanted something sugary, sticky toffee pudding or apple pie and custard, perhaps.
The thought of a sweet treat was enough to make his mouth water. He hoped Ryder’s brother—what was his name? Devon. Yes, that was it—worked late in the kitchen.
Making a sudden decision, he stepped into the wild weather. It didn’t bother him other than he had no desire to sit sopping wet in the pub and make the seats damp. He was in enough trouble with the landlord as it was for refusing a blowjob and telling him to leave.
Refusing a blowjob?
What a prat I am.
What he wouldn’t have given to see Ryder’s gorgeous lips wrapped around his shaft, feel the ridges of his palate against his crown.
“Fuck.” He paused. Rain spattered onto his face. “No.” He pressed his hand over his groin.
Ladbroke Grove, Latimer Street, Liverpool Street.
The rain cooled his cheeks and seeped through his thick black hair to his scalp. He was okay. He had it under control.
He pushed back into the pub and the warmth wrapped around him like a cloak. After shaking the drips from his hair and snapping his jacket straight, he headed into the main area.
The bar was almost empty now his mates had left and there was no sign of Ryder. But the group of men playing cards remained, as did a couple sitting in a window seat with a candle flickering between them. Their plates and glasses were empty.
Joey chose a soft padded chair set in an alcove by a dying fire and reached for the menu. Mmm...what to choose? It had been so long since he’d had options.
Spotted dick was an option, he’d had that once before. It was spongy and full of sultanas and soaked in custard. Yes, that would do nicely. He glanced at the bar again. The row of optics sparkled under the lights, as did the polished wood that appeared freshly wiped.
Suddenly Ryder walked into view. He’d changed his t-shirt from white to a dark blue polo.
Did he get my cum on it?
The thought didn’t totally upset Joey. In fact, he liked the idea of Ryder being marked from the experience in some way.
He cleared his throat, wondering if Ryder would come over to his table if he saw him holding a menu. Maybe he’d offer sexy additions from his own private specials board for when the last of the patrons went home to their beds.
Joey crossed then uncrossed his ankles, adjusted his back on the soft padding.
Ryder glanced at him then quickly turned away. He picked up a bucket of ice and disappeared through a door with Staff Only written on it.
Joey couldn’t help the wave of nerves that went through him. Had he really offended Ryder so much with his refusal of oral sex? It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted it, it was just... Damn, being a spliced shifter was a pain in the arse.
He spun the menu in his hands, tipping it sideways, upside down, then flipping it over.
He heard the door go again.
Ryder was collecting several empty bowls from the bar that had held nuts and crisps when Joey had sat down earlier. Joey was probably guilty of wolfing down the majority of the crisps.
Ryder glanced at Joey again, paused for a moment then turned.
Fucking hell.
Joey clenched his jaw and slapped the list of desserts on the table. What was going on? It was as if Ryder didn’t even know him. His expression had been blank.
Well, I’ll just have to remind him who I am.
Joey stood, but as he did so several of the men playing cards pushed back their chairs. They began to mill about, adding empty glasses to the bar and shoving their arms into thick winter coats.
Joey hesitated—they were blocking his path to the Staff Only door.
“Same time next week, Albert?”
“Sure, if you want to lose again.”
“Yeah, yeah, that was a fluke.”
A round of light-hearted chatter ensued with much chuckling. Joey fidgeted from one foot to the other then stared at the fire. He reached for the poker and shoved it into the embers. It reminded him of BBQs back home. He and Cooper had often been allowed to cook for themselves in the old days, before he’d been transported to the UK and it all got strict and serious.
He missed home.
He missed red earth, white-hot sunshine, Vegemite and the rich smell of the sand in the desert. He missed beer too but The Four Fiddles had proven that was available right here in Yorkshire.
But perhaps once the sun came up he’d be able to refocus on his original plan of finding a ship to take him back to Sydney. He’d thought about a flight, but even with his reasonable control over shifting he knew it would be dangerous to turn into his other self at thirty-three thousand feet. Goodness only knew what would happen, not to mention the terror he’d induce.
The couple to his right stood and the man helped his partner into her coat. She smiled her thanks then watched as he put his jacket on. Then, hand in hand, they wandered out of the pub just ahead of the group of card players.
Joey set the poker back in its stand.
It was just him and Ryder now.
They were all alone.
A tingle went over his body and he pressed his lips together, anticipating another kiss. He wanted to put his mouth all over Ryder, taste the flavor of his flesh, learn the scent of his cock, discover the texture of his most erogenous zones.
He wanted to hear him come, look into his eyes as he took his cock into his mouth. It would be long and lean like his limbs, pale too, the same as his hair and eyes. He was sure he’d be able to deep throat him and give him a wild orgasm.
Joey walked up to the door that he presumed led to the kitchen.
He pushed into it. The room was larger than expected and utilitarian, the cabinets and appliances a mixture of white and chrome. A large steel table stood in the center and held an assortment of plus-sized jars and tins of food.
Standing by the sink, with a hose in his hand, was Ryder.
“Hey,” Joey said, removing his jacket and placing that and his rucksack on the counter.
Ryder spun around. His eyebrows raised. “Can I help you?”
“Or maybe I could help you.” Joey grinned in what he hoped was a sexy way—Ryder had said he was sexy after all.
“Er...with what?” Ryder turned off the tap and reached for a towel. He rubbed his wet hands with it.
“Anything you fancy.” Joey stepped up to him. Damn, he was a perfect specimen of a man. Not like a typical Australian, but still, utterly perfect.
He looked into Ryder’s pale eyes, saw a dark freckle just below the left one that he hadn’t noticed in the shadows earlier. It was shaped like a tear.
“This is staff only,” Ryder said, stepping away.
“I think we’ve gone a little further than patron and landlord, don’t you?” Joey let his gaze drift to Ryder’s groin. He too wore jeans but there was no evidence of arousal.
He’d soon change that.
“How about I return the favor,” Joey said, following Ryder until he was backed up against the wall. “With my mouth.”
“I...I don’t know what you—”
Joey gripped the side of his face and silenced him with a kiss. Enough talking. They desired each other, he had his shifting under control and they were all alone, it was time to do the deed, or deeds as the case might be.
Ryder gasped into his mouth. He placed his hands on Joey’s chest and shoved.
But he was no match for Joey, who was twice his size, easily.
Joey continued to kiss him, poking his tongue into his mouth and swiping around. He groaned—there was a tang of something malty there now, as if Ryder had supped a beer after his earlier cider.
Joey couldn’t get enough. He slid his hands down to Ryder’s arse and pulled him close. His erection was growing—soon it would have to be released.
“Umm...get...off...” Ryder said, tearing his mouth away.
“You want to play hard to get, eh?” Joey said. “Because I was shy earlier?”
“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Joey chuckled and bent to nibble Ryder’s ear. Perfection.
“Please, leave...”
“But I thought there was more on the menu for us tonight.” Joey slid his hand to Ryder’s groin and cupped him through his jeans.
Ah, yes, there it was, a neat cock all tucked up, there was the start of some hardness there too, he was sure of it.
“Menu, what the fuck...?” Ryder squirmed.
“Get hard for me,” Joey said, “I’ll make it worth your while. I’ll make you come so good the way you worked it for me.”
“I don’t know what they hell you’re talking about.” He bashed his fist on Joey’s arm. “Leave.”
“It’s not fair to tease, Ryder.”
“Ryder? I’m not fucking Ryder, I’m Devon, now get the hell off me.”
Joey snapped backward, releasing the man he’d pinned against the wall and groped. “What?”
“I’m Devon, Ryder’s twin.” Devon quickly moved away, putting himself between the door and Joey. “And I don’t know what your relationship is with my brother but I’ve never seen you before.”
“I...I don’t understand.” Mortification swamped through Joey. He’d never force himself on anyone, he was a gentle lover, he had to be, yet here he was...
Oh, God, how could this have happened?
He stared at Devon. He looked so like Ryder, identical in fact, apart from the clothes and that large freckle.
Devon glanced at the door.
“I’m sorry,” Joey said, setting his hands in the small of his back. A tell-tale heat at the base of his neck was turning into a spine-shuddering tingle.
Devon took a step to the door.
Joey reached for him.
“No!”
Quick as a flash, Devon darted through the door.
As Joey reached it he heard a key turn.
He’d been locked in the kitchen.