Page 28 of Master Wolf

“No.” Drew launched himself off the bed. Reaching for Lindsay’s shoulder, he whirled him around and Lindsay stumbled against him, his naked chest brushing against Drew’s, making Drew inhale sharply at the unexpected contact.

His cock rose, brushing Lindsay’s linen-clad hip, but Lindsay gave no sign he’d noticed, only glared at Drew, his dark eyes sparking with anger. “No?”

Lindsay only had to tilt his chin a little to meet Drew’s eyes. He was only a couple of inches shorter, though Drew had always felt much bigger, with his wider shoulders and larger frame.

Lithe, elegant Lindsay.

Slim as blade and twice as lethal.

Drew stared at him, transfixed by that familiar, lovely face. He tried to detect the bond. At first he could feel nothing. The troubling compulsion to obey, to surrender his will to Lindsay, that he’d fought so hard for years, appeared to have disappeared. But then he felt a tiny thread of something, something familiar though far, far subtler than usual. Something vanishingly distant. The thread pulsed weakly, a tick of desire from Lindsay that tugged at Drew.

Was that it? A tremulation of the bond?

For some reason, he found himself thinking of the very first time he’d set eyes on Lindsay, a bewigged and rouged Macaroni. A little bit ridiculous and wholly, perfectly beautiful. In that moment, decades ago now, Drew had been thunderstruck, and he felt that same way now, his whole body thrumming with awareness, like a tuning fork, vibrating in the air.

Unbidden, his eyes dropped to Lindsay’s mouth, his breathing quickening.

“Drew?” The word was a whisper against his lips.

Drew cupped Lindsay’s jaw, stroking his cheek with his thumb as he lifted his gaze back to meet Lindsay’s own. The dark eyes were wide and pained.

“What are you doing?” Lindsay said, a scratchy plea in the words that Drew understood even as he bent his head and pressed his lips against Lindsay’s own.

For an instant, Lindsay froze beneath him, stiff with shock, but when Drew pulled back infinitesimally to whisper “Please” against his mouth, he made a sound that was half sob, half groan and yielded, his lips softening beneath Drew’s, his mouth opening to accept Drew’s tongue.

It had been twelve years since their last kiss and all Drew could think was that he didn’t know how he’d survived without this. He pulled Lindsay closer, his hands mapping the smooth skin of his back, the too-prominent knobs of his spine, before dropping to Lindsay’s hips to tug him closer. Christ but his hipbones were sharp… A shaft of concern pierced the sensual fog in Drew’s brain until he was distracted by the press of Lindsay’s shaft against his own, making him groan into Lindsay’s mouth and Lindsay rock forward with a breathless gasp.

“Christ, I’ve missed you,” Lindsay whispered. “So, so much.”

Drew’s heart twisted at the pain in those words. He had known that his absence—and his repeated rejections—had hurt Lindsay. He hated that, but he had always told himself that he was not the architect of their circumstances. That it was not his fault that he was always torn in two over Lindsay, part of him craving the man and the other part determined to get away.

The sharp staccato of knuckles on the bedchamber door broke the spell. Abruptly, they broke apart. Drew watched dazedly as Lindsay turned away, calling, “Come in,” in a tight voice.

The door opened to reveal Wynne, who smiled at Lindsay then turned his gaze on Drew. “You’ve shifted back, I see,” he said, raising a brow.

It was only then that Drew realised he was quite naked. His face flushed hotly and he quickly covered his still hard cock with his hands.

Wynne chuckled and even Lindsay gave a short, hoarse laugh.

Drew felt suddenly very foolish. What was he doing here? Why had he come?

Inwardly, he cursed his wolf. When would he learn to defy his wolf’s demands?

He swallowed, then said thickly, “It’s probably time I left.”

He began searching the floor for his clothes, only to remember he had none. Clearing his throat, he said, “Might I borrow something to wear?”

“I’m sure we can find you something,” Wynne said, walking past him to open the wardrobe doors. He riffled through the clothes inside, finally drawing out a suit of clothes which he laid on the rumpled bed. Then he delved into the dresser drawers, emerging with a clean shirt and underclothes.

“There,” he said, setting them down next to the other things. “The suit might be a little tight on you, but you should be able to get into it. It’s certainly far too big for Lindsay these days.”

It would be, Drew thought, eyeing Lindsay’s spare frame. He began to pull the clothes on.

Lindsay turned to Wynne. “Would you mind asking the cook to make him some breakfast? He ran last night so he’ll need some fuel before he leaves.”

“All right, but I’ll be asking her to make you something too.” Wynne warned, giving Lindsay a stern look.

Lindsay sighed. “Very well. But not for another hour, dearest. I want to get the poultice on first and I can’t face eating straight after.”