[Siren Publishing: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection: Alternative Contemporary Paranormal Romantic Suspense Romance, MM, shape-shifter, HEA]
When Francis’s boss calls asking him for a favor, Francis reluctantly goes to Callahan Covetti’s mansion to cut the guy’s hair. What Francis didn’t expect was to fall in lust with Cal. Not when Francis was still nursing a broken heart over his jerk ex-boyfriend. But when Cal shows up at Francis’s apartment, shot and needing a place to hide, Francis’s life takes a drastic turn, and he finds himself, and Cal, on the run.
Cal’s grandfather tried to raise a killer, but that wasn’t who Cal was. He wanted out of the family business, and tried to set up a meeting with some unsavory men to end their partnership, but getting out of that kind of life is never easy. Cal finds himself on the run with a bullet in him and nowhere to go. Although he didn’t want his mate to get involved, he goes to Francis for help. But they’re not alone in their struggle to survive, and soon Cal and Francis find out that they have to fight for the happiness they so desperately want together.
Francis sat forward and stared at the mansion made of dark brick. There was a screened-in patio on the right, and vines were crawling all over the left side of the structure. If it hadn’t been for the heavy curtains, Francis would’ve thought the place vacant.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Francis asked when Murdock parked.
“Yep. I’ve been bringing Heaven here for about a year now.”
“Who’s in there?”
Murdock shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never gone inside.”
He might owe Heaven a favor, but if he was attacked and eaten while here, Heaven was gonna owe him.
Francis got out and slammed the truck door closed then winced. “Sorry,” he called out, but Murdock was already reversing. The jerk could’ve at least waited until Francis made it inside, or waited the entire time so he didn’t have to call for a ride.
With a deep breath and his leather bag clutched to his chest, Francis approached the door. Not much scared him, but this place gave him the willies.
He didn’t see a doorbell, so Francis lifted the big heavy knocker and let it fall from his hand. He did it a few times before taking a step back.
A man with a beak nose, slicked-back hair, and eyes that were too big for his face answered. He wore a butler uniform and looked down his nose at Francis. The guy looked like a goddamn crow. Toss in his pale skin and maybe he even looked like a walking corpse.
“Right this way.” He turned and left Francis at the door.
Francis strode into the mansion and whistled at the layout. “Do you know what kind of party I could throw in this joint?”
Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass didn’t answer him. He moved to a set of wooden doors and slid them open. “Your stylist has arrived, Mr. Covetti.”
The office, contrary to the dark exterior of the home, was bright, even though the drapes were pulled. The desk, bookcases, couch, and walls were white. The carpet was tan, and there was an explosion of plants. There was also fancy art on the wall, which made Francis think of the summer he’d spent at the lake with his uncle, swimming and drinking until the sun came up.
Francis missed those simpler times.
His gaze swung to the large white desk, and his jaw dropped at the hunk who sat behind it. The guy stood and walked across the carpet toward Francis. He was expecting some stiff, but holy fuck. Mr. Covetti was anything but. He wore a pair of black slacks, a crisp, white shirt, and had a barely-there beard and mustache. Francis wanted to run his fingers through the guy’s soft-looking dark hair.
Francis was staring, and he knew he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to rip his gaze away from the hot stud. It was like the guy had stepped right off the stage of some gay porno and was heading right for him, and all Francis could do was picture Mr. Covetti naked, his cock swinging, telling Francis what a naughty boy he’d been.
Mr. Covetti extended his hand, and Francis grasped it with too much force and then pulled away, embarrassed at his reaction. Francis was trying to get the cheesy porno music out of his head while telling his dick to calm the fuck down. Clearly he’d taken his aggression out on Mr. Covetti’s hand, but the guy didn’t seem to notice. He smiled, and a deep set of dimples appeared—a deep set that Francis wanted to lick right off his face.
“I’m dick.” Francis’s brows shot up as his jaw dropped, but he recovered quickly. “I mean Francis. I’m Francis Licari.”
“Callahan Covetti, but call me Cal.”
“I’ll call you anything you want me to.” Why were those corny things falling out of his mouth? This wasn’t really a porno, and Francis needed to snap out of it. “Where would you like to do this?”
Ugh, now that sexual bow-chicka-wow-wow music was stuck in his head as Francis licked his lower lip and imagined Cal doing a slow striptease. If Cal said that he was the pizza delivery guy and there to deliver his sausage, Francis just might faint.
“Could you set Francis up in the parlor?” Cal asked the butler, snapping Francis out of his lust-filled fantasy.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Francis had never gone into straight fantasy before, not like this. It was as though Cal had flipped a switch inside him and now he was a drooling idiot.
“Very well, sir.”
Cal gave his attention back to Francis. “This is Percy. He’ll take you to the parlor. I’ll be a few minutes. Is there anything you need, drink, food?”
Your sausage delivery. “Nope. I’m good, sugar plum.”
Bow-chicka-wow-wow. Someone shoot him now.
Cal furrowed his blunt brows as Francis spun and escaped the office, humming a song so he could wipe the other one from his mind. He didn’t care how turned on he was, or how hot Cal was, Francis wanted to get this over with so he could go back home and wallow in his misery. That was on his to-do list. Cry until he got Reid out of his system, eat a ton of ice cream, and mope around like his imaginary dog had died.
“Don’t s-stop.” Cal’s jaw clenched tighter.
Francis let the man’s cock go. Cal growled even louder as his eyes flew open. He stared daggers at Francis.
“You’re not getting off that easily.” Francis scooted back down Cal’s body and teased the head of his cock with his tongue. Cal actually whimpered as his hands clamped around Francis’s head.
The guy was putty in Francis’s hands. He could do what he wanted and Cal would lie there and take it, beg for it if Francis took too long. He glided his tongue through the pre-cum dotting the head then sucked Cal’s cock down his throat.
“Mother fuck!” Cal’s hips shot upward, damn near choking Francis. He pulled back in time not to be killed by a boner.
The noises that fell from Cal’s lips were sexy as hell. Francis licked a long path up Cal’s dick then took the head back into his mouth, teasing, sucking, licking, while Cal dropped his hands and shredded the blanket beneath him with his claws.
Francis was sure Cal spent his life being in charge, running whatever business he owned, barking out orders on a daily basis. But right now, in this very moment, Francis was in charge. He was orchestrating Cal’s every reaction, every facial expression, every sound that rumbled in the man’s chest.
Francis was drunk off the power he held over Cal.
Or so he thought.
With a deep snarl, Cal pulled Francis up and flipped him over, placing him on his back. Their lips collided as Cal ground against him, making Francis loop his legs around the man’s powerful waist.
Francis pulled the bottle from under the pillow, taking back Cal’s lips as he slapped the bottle at him.
Cal took it, wet his fingers, and plunged two deep inside Francis’s ass. Francis cried out, squirming, clawing at Cal’s back as he fucked the man’s beefy fingers, bouncing on them as Cal stretched him.
Francis wasn’t worried about making loud noises. Pat said he had to be out of there by seven, and one look at the clock on the dresser told Francis the man was long gone.
They were free to raise the roof as Francis bucked desperately beneath Cal. Roles reversed now, Francis was begging Cal not to stop, to make him come, and now Francis was the one who was putty in Cal’s hands.
Cal sucked at Francis’s neck, and Francis knew for certain that Cal was gonna leave a hickey behind. Normally Francis would object. He’d never let a lover mark him, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop Cal. In fact, Francis was loving the fuck out of what Cal was doing to him.
Francis locked his ankles together then let his legs fall, only to wrap them around Cal’s waist again. He was thrashing his head from side to side, lost, drowning in the pleasure Cal had plunged him into. Francis was so close to coming. He was riding the edge, his body on fire as Cal pulled his fingers free.
Francis’s chest hurt from his hard panting. Their gazes locked. Francis couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. He was sweating like crazy as he waited to see what Cal was gonna do next.
Cal’s frenzied movements stopped. He stared down at Francis with something in his eyes that Francis couldn’t decipher. Cal’s expression was soft, gentle, as he lowered himself and kissed Francis’s throat.
Francis’s eyelids fluttered closed as his breathing finally settled. He slid his hands over the man’s back, moaning as he tilted his head to the side. The moment was tender as Cal’s hands glided down Francis’s sides, sending ripples of pleasure through him as he sighed.
They hadn’t even had sex yet, but Francis was so content that he wouldn’t mind petting and kissing Cal for the rest of the morning.
He felt movement between his legs. Francis spread them wider. Cal lined up the head of his cock against his lubed hole. With a shudder from both of them, Cal inched his way inside Francis.
This time their movements were languid, touching, soft kisses, and quiet moans, as Cal rocked in and out of Francis’s ass. Cal slid his arms around Francis as if Francis mattered, as if this was the only place Cal wanted to be.
When Francis tilted his head back and looked at Cal, the man had such a serene expression on his face. He opened his eyes and smiled at Francis.
Francis smiled back.
Then Cal started to move faster, placing a hand on Francis’s back, holding him close as he punched his hips forward, growling softly into Francis’s ear. Sex had never felt this intimate before. Not like this. Not this intense. It was as if they were on the same level, riding the same wavelength together.
What frightened Francis was the fact that he could easily fall for Cal. That was something he wanted to avoid. Francis had been dumped too many times by jackasses, and he didn’t want to have his heart torn out once more by this tall, gorgeous god.
Just keep this physical. That was what Francis had to keep telling himself as Cal kept his gaze on Francis, peppering kisses over Francis’s jaw and neck.
Just keep this physical. Don’t you dare fall for him.
But Francis wasn’t sure he could keep his emotions detached. This was the soft side of Cal that Francis bet no one saw. That Cal kept hidden from the world, and he was sharing this private moment with Francis.
He needed to stop this tender moment from continuing, from losing his heart to this dangerous man.
“I need faster,” Francis whimpered. “Please.”
Cal pulled all the way out, flipped Francis to his hands and knees, and drove back in, his hand planted in the center of Francis’s back as he pistoned into Francis’s ass.
“Yes!” Francis cried out.
Fast and dirty. That was what he needed. No eye contact, no soft kisses. Just hard and…Francis lost his train of thought as Cal moved even faster.
Brain? What brain? Cal was fucking it right out of him.