[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, werewolves, HEA]
Dillon Rafferty has a good thing going with his writing. He makes enough to be his own boss, and he takes orders from no one but his readers. Lately, however, he's been in need of some inspiration, so he goes to his family’s isolated cabin near Willow Lake where he can get some alone time and some work done.
He never thought he would meet Rowan, a gorgeous man, who is not only a fan of Dillon's work, but has him so enthralled that he's willing to give up his valuable writing time just for the chance of being with the other man.
But Rowan is an ancient werewolf with incredible powers, and there are hunters who are out to get him, his brothers, and anyone Rowan might have an interest in. That includes Dillon, now, and when Dillon’s ex, a werewolf hunter, shows up and realizes what Rowan is, that only spells immediate trouble for both of them.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Marcy Jacks is a Siren-exclusive author.
Dillon Rafferty looked up from his notebook. He didn’t know why, or what exactly it was that had drawn his attention away from his work, but there had been something that made him look up, and when he did, he dropped his pen and barely heard it clatter on the black-and-white tiled floor.
A man had just walked into the diner. The glass doors were still shutting behind him as he scoped the place out and seated himself at the table that was right next to Dillon’s booth.
He had blond hair that was just long enough to be tied back, like out of one of those old-fashioned historical romance novels his mom and sister liked. He had broad shoulders, high cheekbones, and gold eyes. The man looked like he spent a lot of time at the gym, that was for sure. Did this small town even have a gym?
Dillon stared too long, like the uncharismatic fool that he was, and the man frowned as he realized he was being watched, and he looked up at Dillon.
Their eyes met, and the man’s nose flared.
Fuck. What if he wasn’t like that? Or what if he was and he was just in the closet or something? A man never knew with these small towns if there would be trouble like this.
Dillon turned away from the man, and he tried to forget how amazingly the highlights in the guy’s hair captured the light, unlike his own blond hair, which was so dark it could barely be called that at all.
He buried his face in his notebook, and he tried to read the names and descriptions of the characters he’d just thought up, but he could barely focus on each individual letter of each word as his heart hammered.
“Do you need this?”
Dillon jumped and damn near dropped his notebook. He stared up at the man he’d just been ogling, who was now very close to him, staring at him, and holding Dillon’s pen in his fine looking fingers.
“Oh,” Dillon said, and he’d never felt this flustered in his entire life. Not even when he was first willing to admit that he was gay and had a crush on the high school jock asshole. “Yeah, thanks,” he said, and he reached for the pen.
Of course, his fingers were bound to brush against the man’s skin, and when they did, there was a shock.
Dillon wasn’t about to do something as cheesy as hold his hand in place and stare at the other guy, all the while stuck in his fantasy world where he’d touched the other man however briefly. He wrote about those sorts of reactions. He didn’t have them himself.
For that, he grabbed his pen and yanked his hand away, maybe a little too fast, because the man’s brows lifted at the reaction.
“Sorry, it’s not you,” Dillon said.
“Don’t like to be touched?” the man asked. He had an accent that Dillon couldn’t place. It wasn’t thick, by any means, but it was something.
Yeah, he liked being touched all right, but he didn’t like getting his ass kicked because he was coming on too hard.
Dillon couldn’t think of anything to say, though, so he was stuck just sitting there, acting like an idiot as he struggled.
It was so much easier to write it out. When his characters were in situations like this, Dillon had all the time in the world to think up the smart remarks or sexy responses that weren’t overly snarky. There was a fine line between sassy and bitchy.
“Thanks for the pen,” Dillon said, and that was about when he felt like a complete fool.
Christ, he needed to get his check and get the hell out of here.
The best he could do was sink into his seat and try to hide his face in his notebook.
He thought he was home free, and that in a couple of minutes he could get out of here and pretend like this whole thing had never happened. He didn’t actually live in this small town, so it wasn’t like he was ever going to see this man again, right?
His heart jumped when the man sat down in the opposite booth as him, and Dillon had to look up.
“My name is Rowan, by the way,” he said, and he reached his hand across the table. “You are Dillon Rafferty?”
Dillon’s eyes bulged. “How did you…?”
“Your name is on the front of all of your notebooks,” Rowan said.
Dillon looked down at them, and now he really felt like an idiot. “Oh.”
Rowan laughed. “Are you going to shake my hand? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Dillon reached across and grabbed on to the man’s hand, quickly before he could lose his nerve.
That feeling was back again. It was that same shock as their flesh touched, and he had to fight to keep himself from pulling back. He squeezed the man’s hand tight, just to show Rowan that he wasn’t some pathetic loser or something.
“Nice to meet you,” Dillon said.
“You as well. It’s not every day I get to meet my favorite author.”
Dillon damn near dropped the guy’s hand. He couldn’t believe it. “You…I’m sorry. People don’t usually recognize my name.”
“No? They should. I adore your work. I think it’s amazing we happened to meet, don’t you?” Rowan reached into the messenger bag that he had at his hip, and he pulled out two of Dillon’s books.
Dillon could hardly believe it, and he laughed. He’d never met a fan like this before. Fan mail from time to time, sure, but not like this. “I don’t believe it,” he said, staring at the titles.
“Neither do I, my mate.”
“I’m going to fuck you now, and after that, you’re mine.”
Dillon damn near opened his mouth to say that he didn’t belong to anyone, even though it was sort of kinky hearing that, but then he looked down and saw that Rowan’s cock was still erect, and a white drop of cum was forming at the slit of his dick as though he hadn’t just had an orgasm two minutes ago.
“Did you take something before coming here?” Dillon asked. He reached down to touch it, just to see if what he thought he saw was really what he saw.
Yup, rock hard, and it pulsed at Dillon’s touch. This time there were dark veins bulging from the column and running all the way to the head.
“You look like you haven’t come in days,” Dillon said.
“It feels that way with a man such as yourself in bed with me.”
Dillon almost wished that Rowan would stop trying to build his confidence like that. Not that he didn’t appreciate the effort, far from it, but damn, Dillon could tell the difference between a compliment made from lust, and when a man was just going into overkill because he really wanted to get laid.
Dillon didn’t say anything, though. He just smiled and nodded vaguely.
That was when Rowan kissed him. The tingling was back, and Dillon was pleased, and that warm tingle distracted him just long enough for Rowan to do something incredible.
He grabbed the waistband of Dillon’s jeans, and he tore them. He did it as easily as those over-muscular wrestlers on TV, but he did it to denim that was damn near new, and didn’t have any holes or rips already in it to make the tearing any easier.
Dillon was too busy being in shock and awe to say anything about that. “Christ, you’re eager,” Dillon said, and now his main problem was trying to decide whether or not it was a turn-on to have one of his favorite pairs of jeans casually destroyed like that.
“I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to have you,” Rowan said.
More of the over the top stuff, but Dillon no longer cared now that his cock was free. Damn, he’d been so focused on making everything good for Rowan when he was going down on the man that he’d completely forgotten about the ache that was in his cock. Now it was throbbing more desperately than it had been before the jeans came off, and pre-cum was quickly sliding down the side.
Then the most embarrassing moment of his life happened. He tried to stop it, but he couldn’t.
Rowan went down on him. The man’s lips were warm and wet, and his mouth was tight.
“Rowan, don’t—!” Dillon said, but it was already too late. He came like he was still fifteen and being touched for the first time in his life.
His body spasmed and jerked, he had no control over it, and it was so fucking good that he almost forgot to be angry with himself for doing it, but then it was over. He couldn’t even enjoy the buzz that tended to follow after the fact because, well, he’d come, and he didn’t have the body of Superman that Rowan had. There was no way he was going to get it up again within the next ten minutes.
“Fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“You are fine,” Rowan said, and he was smiling that same predatory smile on his face. Predatory like before, but multiplied. Just like before, Rowan looked like he was having his dying wish granted to him or something.
No, not quite like that, but once again, Dillon definitely got the feeling that he was in bed with the big bad wolf.
Fuck, his eyes were really glowing.
“What do you—hey!” Dillon said when Rowan grabbed his hips, hard enough that his nails were digging into his skin as he turned him around and put him on his hands and knees.
Dillon’s face flamed up. Right. Well, it wasn’t like he was all that surprised that they were still going to do this. People likely didn’t make Rowan wait for anything.
He was still going to make an effort to enjoy himself, so even if he was giving his ass up, and it was always awkward when he didn’t get off, or feel much of anything when he was being fucked, he was still going to consider it a win that he’d had Rowan in bed with him at all.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Rowan said, and he pressed a kiss to Dillon’s tailbone, right above his ass, which made the heat in his cheeks worse. “So perfect.”
Dillon snorted a laugh. “Uh, I guess you never looked at yourself in the mirror before, but you’re the gorgeous one.”
Rowan didn’t say anything to that, and Dillon thought that he might’ve given away a little too much of himself with that one. Nothing said insecurity like rebuffing compliments onto someone else like that.
He turned to look over his shoulder, but it was just in time to watch as Rowan dipped his head and put his mouth over Dillon’s pucker.
Dillon’s hands clenched over the white comforter, and he reached for the pillows and had to quickly slam his face down onto them to keep his moaning down to a decent level.
The pillows were yanked away first, and Rowan’s tongue on his pucker was the second thing to go. “No, I want you to make some noise for me,” he said.
“There is no one around to hear you. Let it out,” Rowan commanded, and he put his mouth back on Dillon’s entrance, pushing his tongue inside and licking him deep.
Well, it wasn’t like Dillon could go against his wishes now even if he wanted to. There was nothing he could do but let it out, and he did.