[Siren Publishing: The Stormy Glenn ManLove Collection: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, shape-shifter, werewolves, HEA]
Chase Might was a man in trouble. On a mission for the protection agency he owned with his brothers, he somehow found himself shot and cornered in a deserted warehouse by the third most powerful man in the Dominguez drug cartel. To make matters worse, a man claiming to need his help in protecting his infant son is also being hunted by the brutal drug lord. Chase can ignore the instincts screaming at him to protect the beautiful man and escape with his life or he can stay and fight a battle he has no chance of winning.
Was there really a choice?
Patrick O'Leary only wants to get his son to safety. The man he married had gone from the man of his dreams to the monster in his nightmares. Patrick no longer cares if he escapes. He doubts he'll live through the next beating, but he'll do anything in his power to ensure the horror he has suffered for so very long doesn't befall his son, even if that means making a deal with a complete stranger.
Did he have any other choice?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Stormy Glenn is a Siren-exclusive author.
Chase glanced around the dilapidated warehouse. He heard the men searching for him, and there was no escape. He was boxed in as Dominic Eli’s thugs yelled at each other to find Chase. Chase knew taking on Morgan Hackery as a client had been a mistake. He’d felt it in his gut when Clint had agreed to take the job.
Morgan Hackery had said that he needed protection because he dealt with a lot of money and lately he’d felt as though he was being watched, but after digging deeper, Chase had discovered that Morgan had dealt with a large flow of cash.
Morgan up and disappeared two days ago and had left false clues behind indicating that the Might brothers had something to do with the missing money. They didn’t, and now Chase had been shot, and Dominic Eli’s men were searching for him to finish the job. They wanted to make an example of him and his brothers to others who might consider stealing from the cartel.
“I don’t think I’m getting out of this,” Chase said as he swallowed roughly. He peered around the haphazardly stack of crates and then quickly ducked back when he saw one of the men heading in his direction. The guy was armed to the fucking teeth.
“Just keep a level head,” Clint said. “I know you. You’ll figure a way out.”
Normally Chase would agree with his brother, but there were too many men in the warehouse and all exits were covered. Sooner or later someone was going to search his little hiding spot and it would be all over for him. He had to move. Moving was the only way to survive.
Glancing around the crates again, Chase saw that the thug had moved on. With his hand pressed over his wound, he pushed to his feet and skirted around the crates, slid around a corner, and then ducked into an old office. The room smelled musty and rancid as if there was a dead animal somewhere close by. A layer of dust covered everything, but at least it wasn’t out in the open.
“Okay,” Chase told his brothers, “I’m in one of the abandoned offices on the east side of the building, second floor corner.”
“That’s it,” Ryan encouraged. “Keep moving. Do you see an escape route yet?”
Sweat covered Chase’s scalp and slid down his back as he clenched his teeth. Fuck, the bullet wound was killing him. His entire arm felt as if it was on fire. He could feel it starting to heal, but the whole process was moving way too slow for comfort.
He checked through the single window that overlooked the ground first and second floor of the warehouse. The glass was dusty and smeared, but even without his enhanced sight he could make out moving bodies on the other side.
“No.” There wasn’t anything that wouldn’t put him in the line of fire. Chase was still trying to figure out how he ended up in the line of fire in the first place. This mission was supposed to be a no brainer. Go in, get the intel to get the cartel off their asses, and get the hell out.
Except, Dominic Eli and his goons had been waiting for them. Someone, somewhere, had squealed. Chase trusted his brothers with his life. He trusted the people he employed at the Might Protection Agency he owned with his brothers to have his back.
So, either Dominic Eli was really good—and he wasn’t—or the drug lord had just been lucky. Chase was going with lucky, because he couldn’t think of any other way Eli would have known they were coming.
Chase ducked down when one of the thugs moved too close to the office window. He prayed the man didn’t come inside. The clip in his gun was empty and hand to hand combat would make too much noise. He was kind of running out of options.
“How’s the bleeding?” Clint asked.
“Still fucking oozing from my arm,” Chase bit out, “but it’s not as bad as it was.” He panted heavily as he gripped his upper arm tighter. His arm was going numb and soon he would lose use of it while it healed. That seriously wouldn’t help his hand to hand combat skills. Sure, he could still kick someone’s ass without the use of his arm, but it would make things harder.
“No need to get your panties in a bunch,” Clint said. “Just getting a sit-rep.”
Chase wasn’t in the mood to give his brothers a situation report. He needed to get out of there, but Clint was right. Chase had to keep them abreast of what was going on. They’d need to know where to collect the body if he didn’t make it out of there.
He ducked when a shadow fell across the window. Chase pressed his back into the wall and held his breath as the door swung open and then quickly closed. Squinting into the darkness of the office, he tried to make out the outline of a man.
A very small man.
“Sssh,” the man said in a hushed tone as he patted a bundle strapped to his chest. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Daddy’s going to make things all better.”
What the hell?
Chase cocked his head to the side to see what the man was holding. No. No way. This couldn’t be real. Was the guy actually holding a baby? A freaking baby? Maybe Chase had hit his head or he’d actually died and was hallucinating. There was no way a guy had slipped into the office of a deserted warehouse with a baby in his arms.
“Who are you?”
The man spun, squeaked, and then slapped a hand over his mouth. His green eyes were wide as he stared at Chase. The bag in the stranger’s hand dropped to the floor as he began to back away and Chase saw pure terror all over his face.
Holding his hands up, Chase shushed the guy. “It’s okay. I’m not the bad guy.”
The stranger’s eyes dropped to the wound on Chase’s arm. His grip on the baby tightened. “Please, don’t hurt us.”
God. The look in the man’s eyes made Chase’s chest tighten. “I swear to you that I am not going to hurt you or your baby.” This was unreal. Chase was bleeding from a gunshot wound, bad guys were looking to kill him, and there was a man—and oh man, he smelled nice—and a baby in the middle of all this.
He needed a fucking drink.
“Patrick!” someone yelled.
The shouted name from outside of the office made the stranger’s eyes grow even rounder as his chest rose and fell rapidly. “He knows I escaped.”
Well shit. If Chase had even half a chance of getting out of there alive, the stranger had just blown it.
Patrick wished he had something smart and witty to say, but nothing came immediately to mind. Instead, he went with the question pounding in his brain. “Will you kiss me?”
Chase’s eyebrows rose. “What?”
Patrick’s face flushed. He dropped his eyes and started to roll away, horribly embarrassed. He never should have—
“Chase!” Patrick cried out when he was wrenched back around. “What—”
Patrick whimpered when Chase captured his lips, stealing all thoughts from his head just as he stole the breath from Patrick’s lungs. He groaned into the kiss as Chase’s musky scent filled every pore in his body.
The kiss was hot, a savoring caress. In a matter of moments, the kiss grew more demanding, more savage. Patrick reveled in his passion, his breath catching as the sexy man kissed him even deeper.
When Chase’s lips moved away from his mouth and started moving down his jawbone to his throat, Patrick tilted his head back, giving Chase better access. The growl that rumbled through Chase’s chest set Patrick’s pulse to pounding frantically.
It was the hottest damn thing he had ever heard.
Patrick whimpered when Chase moved away. He grabbed at him only to drop his hands to the mattress when Chase stood back and started undressing. There wasn’t much to lose. The man was dressed simply, just a T-shirt and a pair of sleeping pants.
Still, Patrick lifted his head to watch.
His breathing came a little faster as hard, rippled muscles were revealed. Chase looked tough, strong. He had long, sturdy legs and shoulders that looked a yard wide and molded bronze.
The more naked skin that was exposed, the less air there seemed to be in the room. Patrick was panting heavily by the time Chase grabbed the bottoms of his sleep pants and pulled them down his legs.
Chase climbed back up onto the bed. He knelt between Patrick’s thighs then leaned over the top of him. He grabbed the hem of Patrick’s T-shirt and then pulled it up over his head, tossing it over his shoulder.
Naked, Patrick suddenly had the overwhelming urge to cover himself. He forgot all about being embarrassed when Chase leaned down and licked his nipple. Patrick couldn’t keep a moan of pure pleasure from escaping his lips as he arched up into the air.
“You like that, baby?”
Patrick tangled his hands in Chase’s hair and tried to pull the man closer when he felt a hand skim down his body. The pleasure rocketing through his body was intense.
Long, thick fingers wrapped around Patrick’s cock. Patrick’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. His breath moved quickly in and out of his lungs. Patrick whimpered when Chase’s fingers stroked his cock, gently squeezing. A thumb moved across the top, pressing down on the small slit.
Other fingers moved to caress Patrick’s tight sac. Patrick whimpered louder. He thrust his cock into Chase’s hand. He wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from coming. Everything Chase did to him was just too damn good.
Patrick’s body arched up as Chase stroked him, every inch of him hypersensitive and greedy for his touch. Patrick couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t hold Chase tight enough. He was desperate, aching.
Chase suddenly lifted him up and then gently laid him down on the bed. Patrick heard brief rustling. Chase’s hot breath blew across Patrick’s neck as he whispered, “Spread your legs, baby, and pull them up to your chest.”
Shivers of delight prickled Patrick’s skin. He pulled his legs up, spreading them as wide as he could. A moment later, slick fingers pressed between his ass cheeks. Patrick’s breathing hitched when one of those fingers brushed against his tight hole.
“Chase,” Patrick groaned when he felt a thick finger breach his ass. A long shiver of ecstasy rippled through his body as Chase thrust his finger in and out, over and over again. Hard. He rocked back, impaling himself on Chase’s long, lithe finger.
“Is this what you want, baby?” Chase asked as he pushed in another finger.
“Yes.” Patrick panted. “Please.”
Chase twisted his wrist, grazing over Patrick’s sweet spot. His cock shot a spurt of pre-cum as Patrick cried louder. The fingers in Patrick’s ass moved in a rhythm that had him swiveling his hips, trying to make them go deeper.
Patrick barely felt the third finger enter his ass, but he sure felt the fourth one. He inhaled sharply at the intrusion.
“P–please,” he begged, but Chase acted as though he hadn’t heard Patrick. It was maddening. His body shivered with his lover’s touch, his kiss, and his very presence.
Patrick’s head snapped back up when he felt his knees get pressed up to his chest. Chase leaned back. Patrick shuddered as Chase grabbed his bottom and lifted him up, separating his mounds before lining his cock up.
Patrick inhaled sharply as he felt Chase’s large cock enter him. He wailed Chase’s name as the man pushed past the clenching muscles, stretching Patrick as his cock began to pick up a rhythm. He writhed under Chase, fighting to accept the ample width of male flesh impaling him.
“Please, touch me,” Patrick begged. He squeezed his ass muscles as hard as he could, trying to get Chase to move or touch him or something.
Patrick barely had time to draw in a deep breath before Chase slammed hard and deep inside him. He didn’t start out slow, instead going straight to pounding into Patrick as fast and as hard as he could. Chase’s thrusts were quick, uncoordinated, and deep.