STORY EXCERPT

Victor came through the small cabin’s front door backward, the naked body of Farrell held tight in his arms. The door gave way easier than Victor expected, and he collapsed to the floor, Farrell on top of him.

“Shit!”

He somehow got his feet under him again and hefted them both back upright. There was a small couch to one side of the dimly lit room, and Victor carefully lay Farrell on the dusty cushions before running back to the door and pushing it shut. The catch was broken from his entry, and the door began to swing open again, letting in the cold air.

“Damn it all to hell.”

He kicked it shut again and dragged a chair across from a small table set and jammed it under the handle. It wouldn’t stop the approaching Weres, but it would slow them down and give him enough time to see to Farrell’s leg.

He ran back to his fallen friend and pulled a knife from the back of his jeans and jammed it into the arm of the couch. The first wolf to enter the cabin was getting it in the eye.

The wound on Farrell’s leg was deep, but clean. The Weres had caught him before he had chance to shift into wolf form and hamstrung him, leaving Victor with no choice but to distract the pair and make a break for it with his fallen friend.

The rules of the pack war may have called for no guns, but they’d never mentioned flashbangs. His ears were still ringing from the explosion, but the Weres had got the brunt of it, leaving Victor with a head start.

He had no illusions that he’d got away, though. He knew firsthand how good a Were’s senses were, even for newbies like the two outside.

“How does it look?”

Victor glanced up to find Farrell looking back at him. “I’ve seen worse. Done worse, too.”

Farrell flicked his scruffy red hair out of his eyes and shifted positions on the couch, wincing as moved his leg. “Don’t suppose this dive has a needle and thread?”

“Probably not. Luckily I do.”

He reached over to his hunting knife and unscrewed the pommel, then slid out the small survival kit it held.

Farrell laughed. “Always prepared,” he said, his Irish twang giving away his roots. “Don’t suppose there’s a pair of boxers in there?”

Victor smirked and tried not to glance at Farrell’s more than adequate cock. “Let’s focus on the leg first, eh?”

“That, and the circling Weres.”

Victor turned his head so his ear faced the door. They really were new. Twigs snapped, bushes rustled. Wolves were one of the stealthiest creatures on the planet. These guys were more akin to elephants in hobnail boots. They’ve still got fangs and claws, though.

“I’ll deal with Gabriel’s boys. They’re five minutes away from regretting waking up this morning.”

He threaded the needle and got to work on Farrell’s leg, working as quickly as he could. The bravado was more for his friend’s benefit, but he was pretty confident, still. He’d been a Were for many a year, and had sparred with Paul, the head of the pack’s enforcers more than once. Hell, he’d even taken Ethan on one night after a few drinks and managed to last more than ten seconds. Most didn’t pass five.

Farrell stayed silent while Victor worked, and he didn’t blame him. Having a leg stitched up with coarse thread, a regular needle, and no anesthetic was hardly the best sensation in the world. Victor worked as fast as he could and tried his hardest not to stare at Farrell’s exposed cock and balls.

When he was done he tore the sleeve from his shirt and tied it tight around the wound.

“It’s not perfect, but it’ll do till I can get you back to the car.”

“No point. I heard one of ’em tear out the tires before I passed out.”

“Fuck.” He tossed Farrell his cell phone. “Let Avani know what’s happening and where we are. She’ll send someone or come herself.”

Farrell started keying in the number of the club the pack owned while Victor removed his clothes. When he was naked he tossed his boxers at Farrell. “There. Ask and ye shall receive.”

Farrell laughed. “In that case I’d also like a cold Guinness and a blow job from a tall Swede.”

“Tell Avani. You might get lucky.”

Victor took a deep breath and walked over to the door as Farrell finally got through to Avani. The chair holding the door shut broke in half under one kick, and Victor let out a howl as he shifted to wolf form.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need a cleanup crew,” Victor heard Farrell say as he stalked outside. “I’m down, and Vic’s about to make two puppies wish they were never bit.”

ADULT EXCERPT

Farrell stood and came over to the couch, flopping onto the opposite end and putting the now half-full bottle between them, lodged between two seat cushions. “So what is your type? What gives you a hard-on these days?”

Victor finished his whisky and ran his tongue around his mouth. “Oh, I dunno.” He took a slow breath. “Redheads.”

Farrell raised an eyebrow. “Really? Don’t suppose you mean scruffy redheads who happen to also be just under six foot and remarkably trim for a beer-drinking nature boy?”

“Maybe.” Victor swished a droplet of whisky around his glass. “Sound like something you’d be interested in?”

Farrell reached over and placed his glass on the table. “Maybe. I’d be a bit worried that it could mess up a friendship, though.”

Victor nodded. “I can see that. Just, you know, after last night I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea.”

“Not gonna lie, so have I.”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

Farrell adjusted his position, and his robe fell open again. His boxers bulged at the front. “Yeah. Of course, I’m a little fragile right now. Can’t go doing anything too strenuous.”

He slid a hand into his boxers and pulled his stiffening cock free. Victor watched as his friend slowly pulled the foreskin from his cockhead, toying with it as it hardened.

Victor’s pants felt like they’d burst, so he reached down and unfastened his belt and loosened his jeans, then lowered them enough to pull his own cock free.

“Yowzer,” Farrell said, his eyes on Victor’s crotch. “Looks like we’re pretty evenly matched.”

Victor stood just long enough to slide his jeans down his legs, then moved up the sofa, his knee brushing against Farrell’s. Something needled him in the back, and he reached around and found the whisky bottle.

“Looks like this is an even more special occasion,” he said as he placed the bottle on the table.

Farrell smirked. “Maybe this was my plan all along.”

“Yeah?”

He grinned. “You’ll never know.”

Gazes alternating between each other’s faces and crotches, the pair slowly stroked their now fully erect cocks. In close comparison, Victor noted that, while he had the thicker cock, Farrell’s was the longer by no more than half an inch. Easily eight inches.

“Never done this before,” Victor muttered, his eyes back on Farrell’s.

“No?” Farrell licked his lips. “I’ve done it a few times. Know what’s better though?”

Before Victor could reply, Farrell let go of his cock and reached over, gripping Victor’s instead. Victor moaned softly at the sensation of another man’s hand, then copied the maneuver, running his thumb over Farrell’s cockhead.

“You’re right,” Victor said. “This is even better.”

He matched Farrell’s steady movements, speeding only when Farrell did, and slowing when he felt he needed Farrell to. He leaned in and kissed Farrell on the bottom lip. Farrell smiled and moved in closer, turning it into a full kiss. Victor parted his lips and let Farrell’s tongue explore, and his own did the same.

Farrell broke the kiss first and licked his lips. With an impish grin, he lowered his head and kissed the very tip of Victor’s cock.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Suck it.”

Farrell ran his tongue around the head. “Bedroom.”

Victor didn’t have to be told twice. He undressed as he walked the short distance, leaving a trail of clothes on the thick carpet.

The bedroom was large, but furnished with only a large bed and two dressers. Farrell came in behind him and moved close enough that his cock nuzzled Victor’s ass.

“Lie on your side on the bed.”

Victor did as he was told, and Farrell climbed up beside him, facing in the opposite direction so that his head was next to Victor’s cock, and his own cock was inches from Victor’s face.

Victor gasped as Farrell gripped his cock and slid his mouth down the thick shaft, teasing the head with his tongue. Victor shifted his shoulder a little then reached for Farrell’s cock, stroking it back to full hardness before sliding it between his lips. He felt vibration on his own cock as Farrell moaned while he sucked. Victor worked the shaft with his hand and sucked and licked at Farrell’s cock, letting it slide a little farther into his mouth each time, and reveling in the sweet-salty taste of his friend’s pre-cum.

They stayed in that position for the longest time, sucking each other’s cocks and moving their own hips to heighten the sensations. When Farrell sucked harder, so did Victor, and when Victor reached around and slid his index finger into Farrell’s tight ass, Farrell did the same.