Shades of Steele:Mercury Rising 2(4)

By: Shades of Steele


It was in Stuart’s best interest to stop joking with these clowns. If the human was serious, Nick would lose it. Stuart was innocent in Nick’s eyes and he wanted to keep it that way. The male wasn't a slut. He was a good guy. A nice guy—when he wasn’t spouting off at the mouth to Nick.

"I’ll volunteer," Landon said as a shit-eating grin surfaced. "We can practice right here or grab a room down the hall."

"He named me, fucker," Rio argued as he shoved his shoulder into his brother’s. "Go find your own slutty bartender."

Stuart’s eyes bugged. "Jeez, I was only kidding around."

It was the right answer.

"I wasn’t." Landon winked.

Nick curled his fingers into fists. He ground his teeth and breathed deeply. "Don’t you two have something better to do?"

"Nope," Rio said. "No warrants. Got all the time in the world to woo Stuart."

These two had no clue how close Nick was to pulling his piece out and shooting them. Stuart’s gaze flashed to him before darting away. "If you want me to keep serving drinks, tone it down."

"You started it," Landon groused. "Can’t joke with a guy about being a slut and not mean it. Ain’t had sex in a week. I’m ready to throw Tap over that chair and fuck his hairy ass."

Tap raised an arm and flipped up his middle finger before going back to channel surfing.

Rio grinned. "I think Tap would slice your throat before you got anywhere near him."

Nick listened to the men, but his attention was fully focused on Stuart. If the human had been serious, Nick would have killed Rio and Landon. He rolled his shoulders, trying to calm down.

"What, nothing from the peanut gallery?" Stuart moved a step closer to Nick, but not close enough. It would never be close enough until Nick had the male squirming beneath him, crying out in pleasure.

The image made him pull his smokes out and light one. "Got nothing for you."

Was that disappointment in Stuart’s eyes? The human always had something smart to say, but Nick never thought Stuart actually enjoyed having tongue battles. The image of Stuart’s tongue battling made Nick even harder. His lips were plump, soft-looking, and damn if Nick didn’t want to feel them wrapped around his dick as he face-fucked Stuart.

"Those things will kill you." Stuart glared at the cigarette in Nick’s hand.

The side of Nick’s mouth curved into a smile. Was that concern in Stuart’s eyes? "Naw, they won’t. I’m a shape shifter. My lungs heal every time I abuse them."

Stuart crinkled his nose. "Well, they stink. You smell like an ashtray."

"Nick, Rio. My office. Now."

Nick turned to see Matt standing in the doorway, wearing a deep scowl. His alpha walked away just as Rio stood, then followed. Nick wasn’t finished talking with Stuart. In all honesty, he didn’t want to leave Landon alone with the human. The brother’s eyes hadn’t left the male since Stuart made that dumbass comment.

Something coiled inside Nick. If Landon tried anything, he’d beat him to a bloody pulp.

"Gotta hearing problem?" Matt barked.

"Better go," Stuart whispered, his eyes wide.

Stubbing out his cigarette, Nick slid from his stool. He glared at Landon, who only smiled before Nick stalked to Matt’s office.

"Close the door." Matt took a seat behind his desk. He looked even more tired than when they’d left the meeting with the leaders and there were worry lines around his eyes. Things were getting to his alpha. After closing the door, Nick sat.

"We can’t wait for the Consiglio or the next meeting with Alistair and the others. Just gotta a phone call about a dead body found down by the Lion’s Den. I need you two to get down there and find out what the cops know. If this was preternatural, we need to get that body back from the coroners and find out who did it."

"What about the other thing you needed me to do?" Nick asked.

"I’ll talk to Tap," he said. "This takes a front seat."

Nick was thankful that he finally had something to do, not the spy work, either. Something that put him on his bike and kept him busy on the streets. He hated sitting on his ass, feeling like a complete waste.