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  Michael practically ran the last few steps and tossed Alli onto the bed. Alli hit the mattress and spread wide, looking almost like Michael’s vision. Now they just needed to lose the clothes.

  Michael yanked his shirt over his head and started working on the fastening of his jeans. “Strip,” he ordered Alli, who was just lying there watching with wide eyes.

  Alli nodded but didn’t move.

  “Killing me, babe,” Michael grunted. His underwear went flying and he launched himself at the bed, naked but for his socks. He didn’t want to take the time to get them off.

  The instant Michael landed, he went to work on Alli’s clothes. Thank God for elastic waistbands. The feeling of skin against skin was so good that Michael moaned. He attacked one dusky nipple, catching it between his front teeth and sucking. Alli buried his fingers in Michael’s hair and arched up, crying out. His cock rubbed against Michael’s thigh, thick and throbbing, smearing a wet stream in its wake.

  Score. Michael did love a man with sensitive nipples. It was like a playground. An alarm buzzed somewhere in the distance, but Michael was too busy playing to pay attention.

  “God, you taste good,” he murmured. He licked at the salty sweat building on Alli’s chest, loving the smooth, hairless skin, so different from his own furry chest.

  Alli hummed an agreement. “I want to taste, too,” he complained. He wrapped his fingers in Michael’s hair, tugging, trying to pull Michael up. Michael wasn’t having anything to do with it, his tongue busy with its meandering path down Alli’s torso.

  The buzzing sounded again. Alli stiffened. Michael smiled, having found his prize. He ran his fingertips along the shaft of Alli’s cock. Alli began tugging again.

  It suddenly struck Michael that the tension in Alli wasn’t the good kind and that the tugging had become more urgent.

  “Michael?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care.”

  “Michael!”

  “Probably around midnight. Now shut up so I can—”

  “Midnight?” Alli wailed.

  Michael groaned and dropped his head down, resting his forehead on Alli’s stomach. He didn’t know what was going on, but that tone said maybe Michael was going to be dashing to the bathroom for a quick jerk-off session.

  “Let me guess,” he muttered. “At midnight the carriage turns into a pumpkin and you disappear.”

  “What the hell?”

  This time when Alli tugged, Michael let him succeed. Michael lifted his head, looked right at Alli, and did something he’d never done before. He pouted. “You’re not really gonna let me suffer, are you?”

  Alli laughed. Honest to God, laughed.

  Michael’s temper started to stir and his pleading look turned into a glare. “Look, if you don’t want me here, just—”

  “Does this seem like I don’t want you?” Alli wiggled his hips, thrusting up into Michael, drawing attention quite pointedly to his rigid dick. “Neither of us has to suffer. Now get your ass up here.”

  “Hallelujah!”

  Michael braced his hands on Alli’s thighs and caught that nipple again. “Lube?”

  “Drawer.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Michael reached with one hand, the other still petting and stroking. He fumbled.

  “Give over. I’ll find it.”

  Michael barely kept hold of his slippery lover as Alli leaned, digging through the drawer.

  “Damn it!”

  Oh, good Lord. This was getting ridiculous.

  Alli pulled loose and turned over. Well, that was okay, then. At least while Alli searched, Michael got to play with that fantastic ass. Michael ran both hands over the firm globes of flesh, squeezing and testing. Oh, hell, yes.

  “Got it!” Alli waved a small tube in the air, nearly sliding off the bed. Michael’s firm grip on his hips was the only thing that saved Alli from what, with their luck, would be another concussion.

  “Get b—”

  Pictures rattled on the walls from the force as someone pounded on the door with clear urgency.

  Michael wanted to cry. “Really? Now?”

  Alli turned back over and suddenly, Michael couldn’t feel so bad. Those dark gray eyes looked almost devastated.

  At the same time, Michael noticed something else. The cock half-wedged under Alli’s twisted body wasn’t quite so hard anymore.

  “You’re not really going to answer that, are you?” he asked.

  Alli started chewing on his lip again. Yeah, that was what Michael thought.

  He sighed. “Go on,” Michael ordered. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Alli looked at Michael with a question in his eyes. Michael looked down. His brain might not be in the mood for sex anymore, but his body was. Michael’s cock stood, proud and waving, balls drawn up tight, begging for attention and relief.

  More bone-jarring pounding reverberated through the house, this time accompanied by the obnoxious sound of someone holding down the doorbell button.

  “Go,” Michael ordered.

  “I am so, so sorry,” Alli whispered.

  “Not your fault, babe. Now go.”

  Alli disappeared out of the door.

  “Clothes, Alli!” Michael bellowed after him.

  Alli squeaked, reappearing long enough to grab his discarded sweats.

  Michael’s sigh sounded resigned but, honestly, there was a bit of amusement as well. Michael wrapped his fist around his cock, head dropping back onto the mattress.

  “Alli,” he murmured. “You’d better be worth it.”

  Then he began to stroke. Swift, fast, brutal, the sole purpose to get off and get off fast. It didn’t take long, only a couple of moments, before he was arching, gasping soundlessly as his release sent tingles down his spine, spunk spraying over his hand as he climaxed.

  The orgasm came as a physical relief, but it was vaguely dissatisfying. He knew it would have been a whole hell of a lot better if it had been Alli’s hand or, better yet, Alli’s mouth. Michael forcibly shoved the images aside. They were just depressing him. Besides, who knew? Maybe he could get rid of their visitor fast and get Alli back in the bedroom. Michael could go another round tonight. Hell, the way he was feeling? He could probably go another two rounds.

  Somehow, he didn’t think that was in the plans for tonight, but hey, he was an incurable optimist.

  Once Michael had caught his breath and his heart rate had regulated, he yanked some Kleenex off the bedside table and wiped up. Voices were drifting up the hallway—Alli had left the bedroom door open in his haste to flee the scene.

  Michael grabbed his jeans but didn’t bother to try to find his shirt. Time to find out what mess Alli had gotten himself into this time.

  Chapter Eight

  Alli wanted to cry. Really, truly, sit down and bawl. He had never hated Fridays more than he did at this particular moment. When that alarm had gone off and he’d realized what it meant, that the hours had crept past and the day had flipped from Thursday to that last, dreaded day…

  Michael was never going to understand. Especially when Alli had left him like that. Hell, the least Alli could have done was stick around, make up for the utter mess that their first time had become. But no, he had to flee and leave the poor man jerking off in a strange bedroom, all by himself.

  In the living room, the television screen still flickered, displaying the menu of the movie they’d been watching. It had all started so well, too. The thought of Michael’s lips and hands, the warm press of his body, holding Alli securely against the soft couch…maybe he should… Alli half-turned with the vague notion of going back down the hall, but the door rattled again, this time followed by Chris’ irritated shout.

  Alli gave up. It was Friday. He couldn’t win. So he flipped the locks with shaking hands and tried to shove the more dangerous emotions swamping him down. He could take them out later and be depressed all he wanted.

  “Hang o
n,” he yelled when the door shuddered visibly.

  Yeah. Nothing broke the mood, at least for Alli, like an ill-timed interruption. Especially on a Friday. He’d known the instant the knock had resonated that it meant trouble. That, more than anything, had deflated his arousal. Just imagining the various disastrous possibilities gave him the chills.

  When Alli opened the door to reveal Chris’ grim visage, Alli figured his gloom-and-doom outlook wasn’t far off. Again.

  “What happened?” Alli asked with something approaching resignation.

  “I need you to come down to Flora,” Chris replied. “Someone broke in and made quite a mess.”

  “Come on in,” Alli invited with a sigh. “I’ll go get dressed.”

  Alli turned and nearly ran into Michael. The shifter stood there, bare-chested, a scowl on his handsome face.

  “This had damn well better be important, Chris,” Michael snapped. He planted his curled fists on his hips. Alli couldn’t help noticing how the pose made the muscles of Michael’s arms bulge, drawing attention to the muscled chest covered in a thick pelt of dark hair.

  Oh. Oh, that wasn’t fair. The man shouldn’t look so good, it played merry hell with Alli’s resolve and focus.

  “Focus, Alli!” Chris snapped, echoing Alli’s thoughts so well that, for a minute, he wondered if he’d been talking aloud again. “Get dressed and let’s go. Mark is waiting on us. I couldn’t find the damn sheriff, as usual, so I need to get back there and supervise before Barry shows up and steps in something important.”

  Small-town life. Alli wondered sometimes why he hadn’t just stayed in New York and gotten lost among the crowds.

  “Yeah,” Alli muttered. “Going.”

  Michael, with one last dark glare at Chris, trailed behind Alli down the hallway and back to the bedroom. The lights were blazing, covers tossed halfway to the floor. Alli quickly averted his gaze, not wanting to look at the bed. The scene of his latest disaster.

  “Want to tell me what’s going on?” Michael demanded. He yanked aside the bedspread, stuck his head under the mattress.

  “What are you doing?” Alli asked.

  “Looking for the rest of my clothes.”

  “You don’t have to come.”

  “I’d argue with that, but since I don’t know where you’re going yet, that’s a bit hard.”

  “Oh. Sorry. The store. Chris says there was a break-in.”

  “Then you bet your sweet little ass I’m coming,” Michael announced.

  Alli finally found his shirt, halfway behind the dresser. Then the hunt for his shoes began. He’d never taken off his socks, so at least those were easy to find.

  “You don’t have to come,” Alli protested. Why, he wasn’t sure, because for some strange reason he kind of wanted Michael there.

  “Alli, you really don’t want to push me right now. I’m coming. Deal with it.”

  Alli clamped his mouth shut and decided that, in this particular case, it was probably better if he just gave in gracefully. Michael was cranky, not a usual state of affairs for the shifter. And Alli was still feeling guilty. He wanted his annoyingly cheerful and positive bear back.

  Chris was pacing the front hall when they returned. “It’s about time,” he declared.

  Chris had driven his patrol vehicle, a massive modified SUV. Alli didn’t protest when Michael opened the back door for him, just climbed in and stared glumly at the screen divider. It took less than three minutes to drive the short distance to Flora. Michael must have looked back at least a dozen times. With each peek, the harsh lines on his face faded a bit until he began to look more like the man Alli was getting to know so well.

  The area around Flora blazed with light, nearly as bright as day. Alli blinked.

  “Why are there spotlights set up in the street?” he asked blankly.

  “Barry,” Chris replied dryly.

  “He’s certainly enthusiastic,” Michael remarked.

  “Damn kid’s a menace.” Despite the harsh words, Chris’ tone held a touch of affection. In Alli’s experience, most people around town regarded their youngest deputy with amused tolerance. The kid meant well. He just tended to get excited and go a bit overboard.

  From the outside the store looked like it always did, apart from the stadium lighting making Alli’s eyes water. Inside was a different story. Alli stopped in the doorway and stared in dismay at the destruction. Michael cupped Alli’s shoulders and squeezed. Some of the tightness forming in Alli’s chest eased, Michael’s solid presence at his back comforting. For once, Alli wasn’t facing one of his disasters alone. It was an amazing feeling, one Alli could quite quickly grow addicted to.

  “Let’s look around,” Michael urged gently. “See if anything is missing.”

  Alli stepped into the room, swept his gaze around blankly. “I really don’t know,” he said in a subdued voice. “It will take hours to sort through everything.”

  The room looked like a natural disaster zone. Every single table had been toppled, dirt and pots, decorative items and torn plants, all scattered from one wall to the next. Alli had had a small sitting area set up in one corner and the fluffy chairs had been slashed apart, the red fabric shredded, stuffing hanging in large clumps like piles of soft snow.

  Mark came out of the back room, stepping over a river of colorful flowers spilling across one of Alli’s carefully chosen rugs. The deputy was making notations in a notebook, tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated.

  “What have you found so far?” Chris asked.

  Mark looked up, startled. “Oh. Didn’t know you were back. Well, whoever it was, they worked fast. The alarm went off at exactly midnight. That’s when the alarm company alerted you. I got here at approximately twelve-ten.”

  “They might have set the alarm off on the way out and not the way in,” Chris said.

  “Possible. But I doubt it. Have you seen the state of this back door?”

  “Not yet, no.”

  “Right. Sorry.” Mark blushed a bit at Chris’ chiding tone.

  “How did you get to Alli’s place so quickly?” Michael asked.

  “I always do a drive-by a couple times on Friday mornings,” Chris said. “I got the call from dispatch and was only a few blocks away.”

  “Why do you—?”

  “Later,” Alli interrupted. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Michael looked like he wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Alli was grateful for that. He knew he’d have to confess everything to Michael, sooner rather than later, but he didn’t want to do it right at this minute, and especially not with an audience.

  Chris took his duties very seriously and worked diligently to ensure he kept his citizens safe. Some citizens just required more work than others. Alli wouldn’t complain, as Chris’ vigilant eye had saved his hide on more than one occasion.

  Alli nearly whimpered at the destruction around him. He paused to pick up a poor, battered stuffed dog, wanting to cry when water streamed off it. The intruder had shoved over the water cooler and it had formed a lake right in the middle of the display section containing balloons and stuffed animals. Alli loved putting together pretty plant gift baskets for gifts and get-well presents.

  “No,” he suddenly yelled, taking off at a dead run, dodging shattered pots and ripped leaves. He stopped in the doorway to the greenhouse, grabbing the frame to halt his momentum. His low sob echoed across the room.

  Michael was behind Alli in an instant, but Alli couldn’t take any comfort. All he could do was stare in utter horror at his beloved sanctuary.

  Gone. All gone. Ripped and shredded and overturned and…

  “Shh,” Michael whispered. “Plants are resilient. It won’t be as bad as it looks, promise.”

  “You can’t know that,” Alli said.

  “Sure I can.” Michael rubbed Alli’s arm, gave him an encouraging smile. “Let’s go look at the rest of it, baby,” he said softly. “We’ll worry about clean-up later.”

  “The
y didn’t seem to be searching for anything, just wanted to create random destruction,” Mark continued. “And I hate to say anything without proof, but those chairs? Yeah, I don’t think that was done with a knife.”

  Chris made a beeline for the nearest chair and bent over, fingering a jagged rip. “I think you’re right,” he agreed. “Looks like claws to me.”

  “Claws?” Alli squeaked.

  “Well, that helps narrow it down,” Michael declared.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” Chris ran a finger down one of the tears again. “But it gives us a starting place. Mark, you can call some of the shifters tomorrow. I’ll check in with Lucas, see if he thinks it might be one of the werewolves.”

  “Doubtful,” Mark replied with a shake of his head. “They don’t come to town very often.”

  Chris shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to check. Anyway, they’re the two species with the most prominent claws.”

  “If we start suspecting everyone with claws,” Mark pointed out, “the list is going to get long.”

  “I know.”

  With that somewhat disheartening response, Chris followed Mark into the storage room. Barry was there, snapping pictures frantically, the flash creating a strobe-light effect on the cinderblock walls. He turned at the wrong moment and the camera went off right in Chris’ face.

  “Damn it, Barry,” Chris bellowed, blinking rapidly. Alli wanted to laugh but was afraid there would be something of a hysterical edge to it, so he held back.

  “Sorry, boss,” Barry yelped, nearly dropping the camera as he jumped.

  “Honest to God, boy.” Chris didn’t finish the thought, shaking his head instead.

  “Holy shit.”

  Michael’s exclamation drew Alli’s attention to the far wall. The back door had been nearly ripped off its hinges, hanging to one side in a hunk of twisted metal. It had taken something strong, with a lot of rage, to pull that move off. But that wasn’t what Michael was staring at. No, his horrified gaze was fixed on the wall.

  The red letters still dripped fresh paint—at least, Alli hoped to God it was paint—smearing trails down the wall and puddling on the floor.

  Go home, fag.