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before the dam broke and he was coming all over his stomach. The release was drawn out for him because he’d spent all that time holding back, and every thought and worry inside of his head vanished as he shouted out his orgasm.

John was still inside him, still thrusting when Storm came down from his high. He was the sort of man who got tired after sex, and even with the continued pleasurable jolts he got from having John’s cock continually prodding his prostate, that wasn’t enough to keep his mind from slipping away.

John came inside him again, and Storm knew they were both going to need a shower, but neither got up to clean off.

John’s body collapsed on top of Storm’s. Storm could hear the erratic beating of the man’s heart as he was snuggled, and that little satisfied smile never left John’s face, even as John pulled out of him and they got into a more comfortable position better suited for sleeping and snuggling.

“You’re mine now,” John said.

Technically, because of the debt he owed, Storm already had been his, but he didn’t say anything. He only nodded, and that seemed to satisfy the other man.

It had to have been the glow of two recent orgasms that would cause an alpha werewolf of all creatures to behave in such a way because John continued to hold him and cuddle him, as though he were a teddy bear or something.

“I love you,” John said, his voice low and sighing pleasurably as the words left his mouth.

Storm was hardly worried or moved by the declaration. “That’s only because you say I am your mate. And because I just gave you your first sex,” he added as an afterthought.

John didn’t hear him. A soft snore left his throat, his chest rising Hunted and on the Run

45

and falling gently as he slept on top of Storm, with his head tucked under Storm’s chin.

Storm stroked his hair. John’s weight was hardly enough to make him uncomfortable, and the warmth of another body on top of his was actually quite nice. That was the only reason why he didn’t push John off him so he could at least sleep by himself. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

Storm allowed his hands to trail down the firm muscles of John’s arms and to really feel the ridges of his chest muscles as they pressed against Storm’s.

John was young and beautiful, that was for sure, and Storm had never felt so wanted before, in a good way, not the way that Tony had wanted him.

What had happened with Tony hadn’t been rape, but it hadn’t exactly been the sort of thing that left Storm feeling warm inside afterward either. Not like how he felt now with John snuggled on top of him.

He’d just given John his first sexual experience, but Storm was getting a first here, too.

In his entire life, no one had ever held him like this before.

46

Marcy Jacks

Chapter Four

Robert slammed the last of his supplies into the black gym bag he had and hoisted it over his shoulder.

He was getting ready to go out, alone, for the first time to hunt by himself.

He didn’t care if they killed him and ripped him to pieces. That fucking wolf and that werecat were going to die one way or another for what they’d done to his family, and if Robert died, he was taking them with him.

Dave, his father, had asked him to do one simple thing, and because he’d hesitated, argued, and felt sorry for the thing they were about to put out of its misery, another demon thing, this time in the shape of a wolf, had jumped the lot of them, killing Robert’s father and his two uncles.

Now, with his younger sister gone, he had no one in the world left, no reason to care if he lived or died.

The tents had already been packed up and were in the back of the truck, and after looking over the scene of what used to be his camp one last time, he was pretty sure there was no sign remaining that he, or his father and uncles, had ever been there.

Suddenly he wanted to cry, and the building pressure behind his eyes made him feel like a pussy.

He squeezed his eyes shut and moved for the driver’s side of the truck. He just had to remember his training and track those shifters down.

The problem was that it had been his father who had been the skilled tracker in the family, and now he was gone.

Hunted and on the Run

47

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Robert finally jumped into the truck and slammed the door. He was just about to start the ignition and drive off, maybe find somewhere to hole up and think for the next couple of days, but he’d already lost enough time crying like a little bitch, when a man stepped in front of his truck.

Robert’s inner warning signals went bat-shit crazy on him, and as carefully as he could, he reached into the holster he was wearing for the Glock he kept on him at all times, but the thing didn’t have silver bullets in it.

The man just stared at him, as though waiting for him to make the first move.

Robert had no idea what the guy wanted. Could this be another shifter? Maybe he was from the same pack the other wolf had come from, and now they were here to finish him off.

No other men came out from the woods to confront him. It was only this guy, and the more Robert looked at him, the more he didn’t think he could be a shifter.

He had the bulk for it, with the wide shoulders and muscles on him, but it was the haircut that calmed Robert down a little.

The black hair was cropped short, military style. Most werewolves liked growing it out long and wild. Robert could never figure out