[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Romance, Alternative, Paranormal, Action-Adventure, Supernatural, Shifter, Contemporary, Drama, Crime, MM, HEA]
Gage is falling for Preston, a cute fox shifter and a cadet at Warriors' Brigade. A hardened ex-biker and lion shifter, Gage has seen it all, is jaded by life, and is a little wary of finding himself so smitten. Preston's unsure, too. After a life on the streets, he's hidden from enemies all around until being recruited to the Brigade.
There's a war raging around them. Human against shifter...except the rules are changing. New players enter the fray, bringing their own dramas, with disastrous consequences. Drug cartels, dodgy politicians, and a world controlled by oligarchs and business barons. Not to mention a gang of shifters calling themselves the East Side Boys, who are determined to stamp out anyone who threatens their freedom.
A series of deadly attacks on shifter premises sends Gage and his cadets from the jungles of the Amazon to the urban jungle of London's inner city - far too close to home.
Preston was exhausted, adrenaline charging through his veins – the only thing keeping him upright. Aware of Gage’s big body close by, he prayed the lion shifter didn’t sense the fear that rapidly replaced his bravado earlier. He wasn’t sure he could keep going.
Gage wasn’t scared of anything. An ex-biker and a commander within their training enclave in England, Gage had earned his rep as a badass. Preston had admired his bad ass many times. A thing of beauty. During several evenings spent on guard duty, Preston had envisaged what it would taste like. Like tasting an almost-ripe peach. Juicy, he imagined, and firm.
Something bounced into the river in front of him and he jerked to a halt, barely repressing an unmanly yelp.
“Critters are running for their lives,” Gage said calmly, pointing to where a large boar was swimming across the river. “Only way out is along this stream. There’s a logging camp further up. If we end up there, and the loggers are still there, we’ll all get more than we bargained for.”
Preston shot a look over his shoulder, nearly swallowing his tongue at the sight of Gage’s dripping pecs rippling with each move he made, striding through waist-high water, his sleek blond hair plastered to his skull, his jaw covered in blond bristles, his clear golden gaze alert for danger.
Gage arched a brow. “Are you okay?”
Preston swallowed, nodding feebly. “Yeah. I thought I saw something.”
Gage turned his head, looking behind, the movement delineating muscle and sinew until Preston was drooling for a taste of his commander’s golden skin. Good grief! He was a mess. Gage wasn’t the sort to look twice at a pipsqueak like Preston, and Preston was already fantasizing about licking him all over.
Gage smiled slightly as he turned back. “Not much out there, bud. This fire’s a beast. Must be playing tricks on you.”
Preston jerked his chin and faced front again, happy to see the riverbank, unobscured by smoke as the wind changed direction, driving the fire away from them. He coughed harshly, his lungs burning, inhaling oxygen as cleaner air wafted past him, frowning a little. He’d seen the flash of awareness in Gage’s eyes… mixed with amusement. Was it so funny that he found Gage attractive? Asshole!
“Keep the noise down folks,” Reece hissed. “The logging camp’s only fifty yards ahead.”
They lowered themselves, keeping only their heads above water, easing around a bend in the river – and halted immediately.
“Fuck,” Gage muttered. “We’re getting eaten alive by leeches and the cartel’s having a fucking party.”
Preston stared at the scene ahead, gritting his teeth. The “party” was a ragtag group of farmers at the mercy of one of the region’s most notorious cartels, linked to the Sonoras who had bases in Mexico and Guatemala. The cartel’s enforcers were forcing them to load up a massive barge with large oil drum-like containers with holes punched in the sides. What the fuck? Why punch holes?
“See the writing on the side?” Gage whispered, his body heat warming Preston as he moved in close. “One of Flashpoint’s old affiliates. Linked to all kinds of trafficking. I remember remnants of ‘em back home in Sage. They have ties to a gang in London if I’m not mistaken.”
Preston turned his head, inhaling the musky scent of Gage’s skin, the hint of chocolate on his breath. Where the hell had Gage found chocolate out here? His breath shuddered and he swallowed hard, meeting Gage’s gorgeous golden stare dazedly. He shook off his malady quickly, cursing the wayward libido that had suddenly lurched into high gear.
“I remember the logo. Fortress had connections, didn’t they?”
Fortress had been quashed, mostly, but as with Flashpoint in America, its dregs remained a threat. Bigotry thrived in the shadows, now using stealth tactics to stay under the Warriors’ Brigade’s radar. Finding signs that those dregs were here in South America, the Amazon basin, for fuck’s sake, hit home.
“Drugs, guns, and whatever else they can get their grubby hands on,” Darren gritted. “The bastards have a long reach, clearly.”
“Not for long,” Gideon said. “They’re about to have a bad day at the office.”
Preston admired Gage’s fangs as they flashed in an evil grin. “Real bad.”
“Guys, we’re badass, not suicidal,” Leila hissed. “Do you see all the big guns those boys are carrying?”
“Surprise is everything,” Gage murmured. “See how lackadaisical they are?”
“See how outgunned we are?” Leila countered.
“Pussy!” Preston said.
She glared. “Bitch, you know I’m an otter shifter.”
“Cut it out,” Reece scolded, fixing them with a hard look. “Me and Keane will scout the perimeter. Gage, you and Gideon stay with the kids, make sure they don’t get into mischief.” He winked at Egor. “You and Ilya can choose your positions.”
Egor smirked. “On you, then.”
“Always,” Ilya agreed, and swam to the opposite bank after handing their weapons to Gage and Gideon, then shifted into their animal forms. Reece and Keane, in leopard form, slunk through the bushes while Ilya and Egor in wolf form kept low, tails between their legs, prowling after their mates.
Preston felt Gage’s breath on his bare shoulder and looked to the side. “Get ready to move onto the bank,” Gage hissed. “Pass it on.”
Preston nodded and whispered the instructions to Penny and Leila, who passed it up the line. Gage gestured, and they carefully crawled, one by one, onto dry land, taking cover in the thick bushes.
“Darren, you and Tommy come with me,” Gideon murmured. “We need to try and get onto that barge.” He signaled and set off, Darren and Tommy keeping close.
“We’ll hold this position,” Gage told the remaining cadets. “If all hell breaks loose, we’ll attack from here.”
Preston eyed him warily. “You’re scary, do you know that? There’s a bunch of gangsters and you expect me, Penny, and Leila to take them on?”
Raucous seagulls woke Preston from an uneasy sleep. He sat up cautiously, staring out of the window of a luxuriously appointed Range Rover at a windswept, deserted beach, pristine and golden, battered by strong waves. He spied a lone figure, almost invisible against the backdrop of whitecaps, running steadily toward the vehicle.
Preston swung his legs to the floor, rubbing his eyes, and opened the door, yawning, the wind taking his breath before he staggered onto the road. A house stood in solitary splendor a few yards away, braced for the ever-long battle with the elements. Made of red brick, it had a panoramic view of the beach, situated on a long, sand-strewn lane, with not another house around for miles as far as Preston could determine. He spied the telltale bulk of a farmhouse in the far distance across a field that contained a herd of dairy cows, watching him curiously.
The figure ran closer, his golden hair flowing in the wind, bare-chested, his muscles pumped and gleaming with sweat. Their gazes locked across the two hundred meters or so that separated them, and Preston’s pulse kicked up a gear. He licked his lips, tugging off his shirt, and slammed the car door shut, the shirt floating to the ground as he set off.
His feet hit the soft, moist sand, a hint of rain in the air as clouds billowed in, refreshing and helping to clear his brain of the confusion that had filled it since they’d left the bombing site.
He raked his gaze hungrily over Gage’s pecs, his cock filling predictably, and moved faster. He stepped out of his trainers, unhooked his pants, and shoved them down, nearly tripping in his haste. Gage was his mate. They were both sure of it. And he didn’t want another moment without tasting him, touching him, making love with him.
Gage approached, slowing his pace now, looking cautious. Ten meters out, Preston launched at him, the impact sending Gage backward, tumbling him to the ground. He growled as Preston’s mashed his lips against him, stroking his hands all over Gage’s chest, then fished for Gage’s cock, massaging it beneath his black sweatpants.
“Easy tiger,” Gage said breathlessly as they came up for air.
“Want you,” Preston muttered. “Mates. Need to bond. Need you.”
Gage groaned loudly as Preston sucked at his nipples, then yelped as the fox shifter bit sharply before sucking again enthusiastically. They rolled, Gage sliding his leg between Preston’s, their kisses urgent, their need spiking fast.
“Need you,” Preston repeated, licking a trail down Gage’s sweaty chest.
Gage whined, throwing his head back, and rolled again, letting Preston attack him. Preston looked down, saw the contorted passion on Gage’s face, and nearly climaxed. He smiled wickedly, slowing the pace, and decided erotic torture could be fun – until Gage rose fast, threw Preston over his shoulder, and ran swiftly toward the house, slapping Preston’s bare ass sharply. He collected his discarded clothing en route.
Preston bounced as Gage picked up the pace, gasping as Gage’s fingers slid around his dick, pumping firmly until Preston came with a shriek of surprise, his head spinning, spurting over Gage’s chest.
“Oh god,” he moaned, since Gage kept pumping, gentler this time, using Preston’s spunk as lube. Then he began fingering Preston’s clenching hole, swiping globs of cum along Preston’s crease.
They made it inside the house, Gage kicking the door wide and slamming Preston up against the wall just beside it, sliding Preston down his body until Preston practically sat on Gage’s engorged crotch.
Their eyes met, Gage’s pupils dilated, his golden irises sharp with lust. Preston shoved at Gage’s sweatpants, managing to push them down far enough that Gage’s fat dick sprang up like a rampant stallion.
Preston moaned again, writhing on Gage’s seeking fingers, rocking up and down, and smashed his mouth against Gage’s again. They shared saliva, tongues gliding together, while Gage stretched Preston with a finesse that took most of Preston’s breath. He cupped Gage’s face, clinging on with his legs wrapped around Gage’s waist, and felt Gage’s dick at his portal. Lowering slowly, he forced the spongy head inside himself, closing his eyes as the thick, moist, searingly warm cock entered him. His chute burned as muscles stretched wider to accommodate Gage’s girth. Gage had managed to find enough of Preston’s load to lube his dick, and his entry was smooth, destroying Preston’s ability to think.
Arching his back, Preston raked his fingers through Gage’s thick hair, moaning wantonly as Gage pierced him, his long glide ending with a short, sharp jab. They both growled, kissing again and again as Gage set up a rhythm, their breaths mingling in a series of low, sultry cries of pleasure. The pace ramped up, Gage nibbling a trail down Preston’s neck, his powerful thrusts driving Preston against the wall, the erotic thumping blending with the thunder of Preston’s heartbeat.
Preston’s cock was trapped between their surging bodies, the friction creating a delicious tension at the base of his spine, spreading outward until he felt his balls thicken, his cock engorging once again. With the added bonus of Gage’s eight-incher spearing him continuously, he let loose with a second orgasm, crying out shrilly as he felt Gage’s low growl against his neck, then huge fangs sank into him.