“Since fifth grade and you still got my back.” Angel grinned down at him. He was six foot to Paul’s five-nine but Paul didn’t mind the height difference. He was used to being on the short side and having people underestimate him because of it. They were always sorry after they made that mistake, but of course by then it was too late.
“Always got your back, hermano. ” He nudged the other man affectionately, meeting Angel’s eyes in the moonlight. They were as black as his hair and hard to read but right now they looked calm and relaxed, at least to Paul.
“Lean back against the tree.” Angel nodded to a palm opposite the one he’d been pissing on. “I’ll give you blow-backs.”
“Sure.” Heart thumping, Paul did as his best friend and packleader ordered. The spines of the palm tree dug into his bare back but he didn’t care. What mattered to him was the look in Angel’s eyes as he took a long drag on the joint, holding the sweet smoke deep in his lungs. Then he leaned forward, his mouth hovering over Paul’s, and exhaled.
Paul breathed in hungrily, inhaling the smoke-laced breath with his eyes closed tight. He could feel Angel’s lips so close to his, just a hairsbreadth away. The heat of the other man’s chest, the scent of his skin, even the beat of his heart all flooded Paul’s senses. Unbidden, an image came to his mind. A picture of himself leaning forward just a little to close the distance between them. A fraction of an inch—that was all it would take to seal their mouths together. He wondered if Angel would taste as good as he smelled.
He wondered if the other man would kill him right away or let the rest of the pack in on the action. Stop thinking like that. He tried to stamp on the emotions hard, to keep his feelings in check. It was wrong, feeling that way about another guy. Very fucking wrong. So why couldn’t he seem to stop?
After what seemed like an eternity Angel drew back a few inches. “Hey.”
Paul opened his eyes to see his friend studying him intently. “Yeah?”
“Just checking to see if you’re still with me. Your eyes get this glazed look sometimes, like you’re all far away and shit.” Angel traced a line under Paul’s right eye with his thumb as if to illustrate his point.
“Yeah, well…” Paul tried not to shiver under the light touch. God, Angel was always doing this kind of shit! He wondered if the other man knew how he affected him and hoped to hell not.
“You cold, Pauly?” There was an amused glint in the black eyes that seemed to say Angel knew exactly what he was doing and wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Paul had seen him treat girls who were trying to get into the Locas the same way. That teasing way he had of talking, the light touches that seemed to promise so much. He had them panting after him like dogs. The way he does me. But Paul couldn’t help it. At least Angel never treated him like this in front of the other wolves. He kept it strictly between the two of them, which made it worse in a way.
“I’m warm enough.” Paul shifted uneasily as Angel took a last drag off the joint and crushed it beneath his heel.
“I’m more than warm—I’m hot. Fucking horny.” Angel pulled back and leaned against the palm tree beside Paul’s. “I’d almost fuck that pinche puta Mercedes.”
Paul tried to laugh. “Yeah, right. She’s got fucking teeth where her concha should be.”
Angel grinned. “That’s why I said almost. Hey, remember how we used to jerk off together when we were kids?”
“Yeah, I guess. Maybe.” Paul didn’t see how he could forget it. Those secret jerk-off sessions with his best friend had provided him with fantasy material for years.
“Let’s do it now—let’s rub one out.” Angel already had his cock out, gripping it loosely in his fist, his eyes trained on Paul to see his reaction.
“I don’t know…” Paul frowned.
“C’mon, I don’t want to have to sit in on this family mierta with a hard-on.” You can’t refuse me, said the look in his black eyes. Can’t tell me no—you never tell me no.
But Paul wanted to this time. He didn’t want to do this now. Didn’t want his friend to see how hard he was—how much being close to another man affected him. How could he explain his raging erection? How could he keep the hunger inside him, the fire that was threatening to burn out of control, in check with so much temptation so close at hand?
He was saved by a shout from one of the other wolves. “Vamps! There’s a coven in the woods. I fucking saw ’em!” Paul and Angel were both immediately on high alert. Besides some drug running and protection, fucking up vampires was the pack’s main calling. Vamps were bloodsucking scum—unnatural, undead sons of bitches who didn’t deserve to walk the face of the Earth—even if they only did it during the night. But the worst thing about them was that they didn’t care who they fucked. Every last one of them was what Angel called “try-sexual”—they’d try anything with anyone, anytime.