Chapter Thirteen
They ate at Bear’s. It seemed almost morbid to be back at the scene of Jenny Eagler’s attack, but the bar was open and Cooper didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t want to take Jefferson to the Ancient Mariner. It was ridiculous to feel so defensive of a place that could have been modeled off a Scooby-Doo villain’s lair, but he associated it too strongly with Park. Park, who was acting strangely, coldly. Because Cooper hadn’t tried harder to defend him? Not that the man needed defending exactly. But a simple “I don’t think you’re part of a Trust conspiracy to undermine the BSI” probably wouldn’t have gone amiss.
That was, Jefferson informed him over beers and burgers, the part of the conversation he had missed. What Jefferson had been leading up to in the parking lot.
“Don’t you think it’s all too convenient? The ruling packs here—Park’s family and Rudi Abouesse—are both recently sanctioned by us for playing wolf Mafia,” Jefferson explained his theory while adding extra ketchup to his burger. “Soon afterwards men in the community start to be killed off. Protector types of men. Hunters, athletes, police. Victims chosen to ensure panic.”
Cooper thought calling Bornestein a protector type was stretching it distinctly thin, but he could see where Jefferson was going.
“And this is the case Park insists to be put on. Claiming he’ll be a help because he knows the locals and yet nothing is accomplished. In fact, more attacks occur. One on our own BSI agent.”
“Park didn’t attack me,” Cooper insisted firmly. “He saved me.”
“Maybe he attacked you so he could save you,” Jefferson retorted. “Another excuse for the wolves to try and prove how useful they are. You said yourself the Trust is playing politics. What other reason would anyone have to untie that rope? Do you honestly believe someone else was there on the property watching and waiting without being detected by you, Park, Christie or Harris?”
No, Cooper didn’t think that. But nor was he ready to believe Park was part of an elaborate plot to demonstrate the need for pack enforcement. “I don’t know,” he said instead, feeling vaguely guilty. He didn’t quite have the energy or the evidence backing him up to say otherwise to Jefferson, but the whole thing seemed too elaborate, too Machiavellian. He just couldn’t see it.
Frankly, he was struggling to see anything but that last look of Park’s. The twist of disappointment around his mouth. The stiffness of his shoulders as he walked away from Cooper without looking back.
He thought about it all through dinner and the drive back to the motel. He thought about it when he noted Park’s car in the lot and when he bid Jefferson a distracted goodnight as they headed in separate directions on the outside walkway. He was still thinking about it when he found himself standing, hesitant, in front of Park’s door.
It was ridiculous. He shouldn’t be here. Didn’t even know if Park was in his room. Didn’t have a clue as to what he would say. But he couldn’t let disappointment be the last look he saw on Park’s face that day. Deep inside he felt that if they left things the way they were overnight, then that would be it. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that to be it or not.
See, that was a lie, too. He was sure. The thought of Park never again looking at him like he had that morning, vulnerable and tender, was like a kick in the gut. Again, it was the why behind the lie he didn’t understand yet.
Cooper knocked briskly and then wished he’d taken a moment to figure out what he was going to say. No time now. Almost immediately Park opened the door. He didn’t look surprised to see Cooper on his step. But he didn’t look happy to see him either.
Cooper fidgeted in the misty, humid night air. The drone of summer crickets made a mockery of the drawn-out silence as they observed each other. Park’s broad form filled the space of the doorway. He didn’t speak, didn’t smile, didn’t move back or invite Cooper in.
Cooper mentally stumbled through half-thought-out apologies, questions and emotions, discarding each one immediately. He struggled to find words at the best of times. Without knowing what exactly it was he wanted, he had no idea what to say. He only knew he didn’t want Park to turn him away. Wanted the tension between them gone.
So he did the only thing he thought would get through to Park quickly. A communication that couldn’t be misread. He looked down.
Baring the back of his neck in complete submission, Cooper waited. His skin was flushed with embarrassment. The moment dragged out. He could feel Park’s gaze assessing him and Cooper couldn’t help but tremble slightly at the unnatural feeling of giving someone, anyone, complete control. But backing out now would be even worse so he held the position.
Cooper let go of the last of his doubts, closed his eyes and committed.
I trust you. I do.
He could feel the tension ease from his body and, like it had in the interrogation room, the air between them suddenly lightened. Cooper could breathe again. Without a word Park walked back into his motel room, leaving the door open, and sat on the sofa against the wall. Cooper straightened and followed him, closing the door behind him.
He sat next to Park, keeping his eyes on his own hands, not out of submission anymore but just normal nerves.
“Does Jefferson know you’re here?” Park asked. His voice was mild, but there was a glint in his eye that Cooper didn’t understand.
“No,” Cooper said. He wondered if that would upset him. Would he think Cooper was sneaking into his room at night after not taking his side today?
But Park merely nodded. He was staring at the juncture of Cooper’s neck and shoulder as if fascinated.
Cooper continued. “He’s a good guy. If he comes across a little abrasive sometimes, it’s just because he cares.”
Park’s eyes flickered up to his face and he looked doubtful. Cooper felt a need for Park to understand. It wasn’t Jefferson’s fault. It was just the way they’d been trained to work. Both of them.
“Pushing people’s buttons gets results. And it’s not like we can’t use some of those around here,” Cooper stated. Even though he didn’t buy into Jefferson’s theories exactly, that didn’t mean there weren’t still some unanswered questions on Park’s end either. “He’s one of the BSI’s best agents.”
Park studied him for a long, quiet moment and then looked away, his face suddenly weary. “Is he.” His voice was flat. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes he is,” Cooper said anyway. The silence stretched between them until he blurted, “Still, I should have...stood up for you. Before.”
Park snorted, but he didn’t look angry. In fact he was a lot warmer now. Different when it was just the two of them. His knee was brushing Cooper’s side by side on the couch and his posture was relaxed, comfortable. “I didn’t need you to do that.”
“Yeah. Obviously.” Cooper looked at their almost-kissing knees. “You just seemed, um, pissed, before. I thought maybe...”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea that your partner know we’re...getting along.”
“Oh.” He hadn’t even considered Park might be equally reluctant that news of their line crossing get back to the Trust. He supposed that made sense. Not that Cooper thought Jefferson would report them. But he had no idea what Trust policies were or how far-reaching their ears... “Park, what did Rudi mean when she said you owe Cola?”
Park smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that what had you so worried-looking at the station? It’s really not a big deal.” He paused, and for a crazy moment Cooper wished he hadn’t asked. He didn’t know what he would do if Park lied to him again, but he’d probably have to leave and he very much wanted to stay. Then Park continued hesitantly, like he was tasting each word before saying it, “Before joining the Trust, Cola helped me find out what happened to my parents.”
Cooper turned that over in his mind. He didn’t doubt Park was telling the truth. He could tell by the way he lingered just slightly on the word parents. “Is that why you really requested to be put on this case? To pay her back?”
Park stared without seeing across the dim motel room. His lips parted, but instead of speaking, his tongue slipped out slowly to touch the grooved scar on his upper lip.
Cooper wondered if this too was some sort of silent, physical communication. The most honest kind.
Any other speculations died when Park turned to face him at last and there was no misinterpreting the dark, hungry look in his eyes.
“Is that why you came here? To talk about Jefferson and the case?”
Cooper swallowed and Park smiled, slow and knowing. Like he could sense the flush of heat across Cooper’s chest, the shrinking of his throat, the swelling of his cock.
Maybe he could.
Park leaned in and, after hesitating briefly to inhale his scent, began to nuzzle the juncture of Cooper’s neck and shoulder.
“That’s not...an answer,” Cooper protested even as his head rolled back to give Park better access.
“No?” Park murmured, and then cut off Cooper’s response by biting him very lightly on his shoulder. “Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” he said even as his hand slid from Cooper’s arm down his body. “Why did you come here tonight?”
“I don’t know,” Cooper said, trying to sound indifferent and failing.
“You know.” Park’s hand cupped his ass and squeezed.
“Is that supposed to be a hint?” Cooper gasped even as he lifted off the couch to encourage Park’s hand to take a firmer grip.
“Why did you come? Why did you offer me your...submission?”
“Next time I’ll just stick with a simple sorry.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Park said, sounding amused.
Christ. Was his emotional constipation that obvious?
“Tell me why, Cooper Dayton.”
“I—” He pressed his lips together and shook his head, which only served to move Park’s mouth to the hollow at the base of his throat, and Cooper trembled.
“Say it.”
“Wanted you.” The words ripped out of him, sounding raw and alien. It wasn’t exactly what Park was asking, not the whole truth, but it seemed to be enough, thank god. Anything more might have killed him.
“Did you know,” Park said, nibbling a trail up Cooper’s neck, “that as opposed as I am to being someone’s dirty little secret, knowing that I’m going to take you tonight right under his bigoted nose makes me hard enough to drill through the wall?”
Cooper groaned. He wanted to protest the dirty little secret but couldn’t talk around the heavy wave of lust. Park swiped his tongue roughly across his pulse point.
“Did you know that?” he repeated.
Cooper shook his head. “N-no.” He cleared his throat. “If I did, I definitely would have come over here a lot quicker.” He felt Park smile against his skin.
Park’s fingers were deftly unbuttoning Cooper’s shirt and sliding it off his shoulders. His hands ran up and down his chest, examining every surface. He dipped his head and began lightly sucking on his nipples. Cooper didn’t have strong feelings about his nipples one way or another, but he did have strong feelings about watching Park mouth him with such unabashed desire.
Cooper took a long, shaky breath and let his head tip back, running his fingers through Park’s hair and tugging gently, and then, as the pressure in his belly increased, not so gently, while Park made appreciative sounds.
Hair-pulling, what an odd thing to find arousing. The old phrase pulling pigtails came to mind. They’d been pulling each other’s pigtails since day one. And now, hopefully, they’d be pulling each other’s...well.
Cooper’s hands dropped from Park’s hair to help undress them both.
It was a lot slower than the night before. So were some wild horses. More sober, too, obviously. Cooper was a lot more conscious of Park’s responses as they explored each other’s naked bodies with hands and mouths. His sharp, satisfied exhale when their naked cocks finally pressed together, the way he shivered when Cooper grazed his teeth across Park’s chest.
Last night had been all about racing to his own personal finish line. Cooper was traveling with another person tonight. Taking the scenic route.
Eventually, when their movements became more urgent and their grips harder, Park pulled back and Cooper stood hurriedly to move to the bed. But Park grabbed him and, with a sharp shake of his head, pushed him back onto the couch so that he fell there on his knees.
“I want you right here. Like this,” Park murmured, and lightly guided him down so he was on his forearms and knees.
Cooper could hardly hear over the sound of his own shaky breaths and again, he felt intensely aware of Park assessing him. His body trembled. He wanted to demand they get on with it even as some deep, coarse part of him reveled in the feeling of being positioned to please and pinned there by Park’s gaze.
He did wish the lights were off, though. He needed the distance that darkness provided to dim the intensity of his reactions to Park.
Cooper closed his eyes instead, but that just heightened his other senses. He felt Park’s warm breath ghosting over his back. He smelled the heavy musk of their combined arousal. He heard Park murmuring something under his breath, soothing, approving.
Park pressed his lips to the back of Cooper’s neck and then began to kiss and lick a path straight down his spine.
“God, Park,” Cooper groaned.
Park hesitated, nuzzling the hollow of his lower back. “Oliver,” he corrected, sounding almost shy. An absurd way to sound, considering where his mouth went next as it traveled farther down.
“Oliver,” Cooper gasped, and then bit into the couch cushion to prevent his incoherent curses as Park kissed, nibbled and licked him open.
His body quivered at the effort of keeping still, resisting the urge to push back against the demanding heat of that mouth.
Park slapped Cooper’s thighs lightly. “Open up for me.”
Cooper spread his legs wider and Park pushed his tongue deeper still. Had Cooper’s face not already been buried in the cushion in ecstasy, he would have buried it there in embarrassment. There was no room in his overheated head for shame now, though. Park dipped a spit-slicked finger inside of him and gently worked it in to tease his prostate. Cooper arched back and uncontrollably began to hump his hand.
Park pulled back. “Stay,” he said, voice rough. “Just like this.” He stood and walked away. Cooper rolled his face against the cushion, trying to slow his breaths and take the opportunity to regain some control over himself. Desperately searching for a little bit of distance.
Park... Oliver hadn’t even kissed him. On the lips, anyway. Cooper loved kissing. And he didn’t like being ordered around. So why was this ranking as one of his most erotic encounters? Everything that shouldn’t have worked, did.
Because it’s Oliver doing it. He shook his head at the unwelcome thought.
Park was behind him again, moving near silently. One powerful hand ran up and down Cooper’s back, smoothing out any tension that had gathered in his absence while the other hand efficiently prepped him. His fingers were slick and warm with lubricant, and they twisted and teased shocks of tingling pleasure through Cooper’s nerves, wringing more huffs and squeaks out of him than even the protesting couch below them.
The prodding fingers slowed. “You are not what I expected, Cooper Dayton,” Park said, sounding oddly frustrated.
Yeah? Ditto, Cooper thought, pushing back insistently on Park’s hand, needing more, but the fingers were suddenly gone. Before Cooper could even fully register the resulting empty sensation, he felt Park’s cock gliding up and down between his cheeks instead, the thick head occasionally nudging at his hole.
Cooper pushed up onto his hands and looked over his shoulder. He felt momentarily stunned by the sight.
Park was braced behind him, half kneeling, half standing on the floor in a position that didn’t exactly look comfortable but had the benefit of tensing his not insubstantial muscles so that every ab, pec and quad was defined and taut with raw power. His cock was suited up, flushed and impressively hard against Cooper’s own rather pale ass.
It was Park’s eyes, though, that Cooper couldn’t turn away from. They were startlingly wide and dilated with thin rings of gold around the edge, and staring back at him with an intensity that looked almost pained.
Cooper tried to push back onto him, but Park’s hands tightened on his hips, holding him in place.
“Do you want this?” he asked quietly. “Do you want me?”
“The fuck do you think?” Cooper tried to snarl, but it came out embarrassingly more like a whine.
“I don’t know,” Park said lightly. His voice was teasing, but his eyes still looked dark, conflicted, and Cooper wondered if there was something else there. Cooper wasn’t the only guy in the world with hang-ups. He may not even be the only guy with them on this couch. Park needed to feel wanted. Maybe even needed to feel needed. But shit, who didn’t at some point or another?
“Tell me what you want from me,” Park was saying. “Exactly.” His thumbs massaged Cooper’s buttocks.
“I want you...in me,” Cooper said, surprised at how hard it was to say while looking him in the eye. But if he couldn’t shuffle his own shit for a minute or two and give Park the honesty he needed, he probably shouldn’t be doing this at all.
Cooper tried again. “I want you to fuck me. I want you to give me your cock. Hard.”
Park groaned, his hands tightening on Cooper’s hips, and pushed inside of him with one long stroke. Cooper’s eyes fluttered shut and he grunted in discomfort at the abrupt fullness. Park paused there to give Cooper time to adjust. Their harsh, desperate breaths were the only sounds for a moment. Park’s obvious, barely restrained excitement sent a thrill through Cooper’s body, and he could feel his own muscles spasm, teetering on the edge between relaxing and rejecting. Not quite pleasure but no longer pain. Just sensation and the reluctant but growing need to accommodate, to just let go.
Park leaned forward carefully and pushed an openmouthed kiss onto his shoulder. The heat of Park’s hard body against his eased the last of Cooper’s resistance, and he adjusted his position and murmured an invitation.
Park pulled almost all the way out and then pushed back in, much more slowly this time. Back out and then slowly back in. Taking his time. Cooper huffed and rocked on his knees and elbows, trying to pick up the pace, but Park’s hands, still tight on his hips, forced him to be still. Using him how he wanted. Exploring until he found the angle that snapped Cooper’s head back with each slow stroke.
“Fuck,” Cooper groaned. The sensation of Park slowly nudging the tight bundle of nerves inside him was so sweet, so raw it bordered on pain.
“Good. You feel so good,” Park said.
Well, la-di-fucking-da for him. But Cooper felt like he was being unwound and stretched thin while electric wires of pleasure were pulled taut from his toes to the tip of his dick and up his spine. It was too much. Too intense. Lovemaking wasn’t what he’d asked for.
“Come on,” Cooper groaned, and bit into his own forearm, tasting the salt of his sweat.
“Come on what?” Park teased. Cooper rolled his eyes and called him a couple of rude and creative names under his breath. Of course, Park heard him anyway and chuckled lightly. Whatever conflict he had been feeling before was apparently gone, and he seemed entirely at ease while Cooper felt on the verge of spinning out. Out of control. Out of balance.
He needed Park to lose just as much control as he was.
“Please—” Cooper said, voice a little shaky. “Please, Oliver. Please fuck me harder. I want you so bad. Take me. Fast and dirty.” Maybe laying it on a bit thick, but judging by the way Park’s light laughter had turned to a rumbling growl, it was just right.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” Park said, and his thrusts quickened.
“Then I guess you better teach me a lesson,” Cooper said.
Wait, did that even make sense? He could hardly believe the words came out of his mouth. But lost in the fog of pleasure came the irrational confidence that for once he could say nothing wrong. Park certainly didn’t mind anyway, and with another growl he pulled Cooper’s hips up and began to pound his ass. The couch springs squealed and the back bumped rhythmically against the motel wall.
“God. Yes. Please—” Cooper gasped, a little rhythmically himself, and then couldn’t stop himself from adding, “Thank you, Agent Park.”
He heard Park laugh again, a bit breathlessly this time, but Cooper also felt Park’s hips spasm and his thrusts sped up to a punishing pace, so clearly not all of him was merely amused.
His hands slid up Cooper’s spine, gripping the flexing muscles of his back and shoulders. Cooper, needing more momentum, sat up a bit and braced one hand in front of him and the other gripped the back of the couch. To his surprise, one of Park’s hands slid over his and interlaced their fingers. Cooper curled his own fingers and squeezed to hold him there while his hips, free now to slam their approval, did just that.
Cooper pushed back to meet Park’s thrusts, hard. The slap, slap of flesh on flesh and their moans and grunts melded together in a cacophony of pure, base, animal pleasure until Park gasped Cooper’s name loudly, over and over like it had a meaning in itself, and gripped his hand too hard. His thrusts stuttered violently as he came, almost sending Cooper over the end of the couch.
Park collapsed on top of Cooper, whose arm gave out, and crushed him into the cushions. Park gently bit the nape of his neck as his orgasm twitched to an end.
Cooper pushed back his own need and let Park linger in his post-coital bliss-out, enjoying the feel of the man’s weight covering him. When breathing, and his own weeping erection, became too uncomfortable to ignore, he wiggled purposefully.
Park immediately lifted his weight up. He kissed and then licked the spot he’d bit and flipped Cooper onto his back so fast and with such inhuman strength Cooper let out a squeak that would have embarrassed him if he wasn’t distracted by Park pressing a sloppy kiss against his lips and then licking and sucking his way down his body toward Cooper’s cock. He nuzzled the base teasingly.
“Please—” Cooper whispered.
Park wrapped his lips around the sensitive head. Cooper gasped and his hips jerked, but Park held him down. He looked up at Cooper slyly, his lips stretched and shiny, and then slid slowly down taking his cock to the root.
Cooper heard white noise. Or was it the ocean? Regardless, it was interrupting the sounds of Oliver energetically worshipping his dick. Cooper tried to push back the crush of feelings demolishing his senses. He was vaguely aware he shouldn’t be thrusting up into that wet heat, but couldn’t quite care enough to stop. Someone was talking incoherently and since Park’s mouth was very much full, it must be him.
Cooper came with a long sound somewhere between a shout and a sob. A wail, maybe. An accurate word, but one that made him think of mourning women on cliffs and losing love to the sea. Then he couldn’t think anymore.
Pulsing shockwaves coursed through his body, disintegrating any lingering worries, words or thoughts of loss and love. A cleansing that left him to drift. A burning pyre on the ocean.
Eventually, when his fog cleared and his eyes could focus again, Cooper looked down to watch Oliver licking any spilled seed from his cock. When that got to be too much, Park shifted Cooper’s legs, moved down and gently nuzzled and kissed his tender hole. The action was oddly not sexual, but soothing and attentive, like he was tending to something he thought precious.
It was weird. And it made Cooper’s throat tighten.
“Can you at least try not to be a freak for five minutes?” Cooper said. His voice betrayed him by cracking.
He felt Park smile against his skin, but when the man sat up he had a comically offended face on. “I don’t know, can you try not being such a porcupine for five seconds?”
Cooper snorted. “Porcupine?”
“Mmm,” Park said, quickly dealing with the condom, bracing himself over Cooper’s body and nipping his shoulder, playfully. “A prickly bastard.”
Cooper didn’t bother to hide his smile. He let his eyes drift closed.
Rush seemed a foreign word. Soon enough the afterglow would dissipate and the problems of fucking on a cheap, uncomfortable couch at his height, and at his age, after an admittedly rough couple of days, would make themselves known loudly and angrily. But until then he could lie here blissfully boneless and enjoy the feeling of Park’s lips nuzzling the nooks and crannies of his body.
Cooper let his fingers lazily card through Park’s hair, the silky strands slightly sweaty. He scratched his scalp and Park grumbled approvingly. The sound and the vibration of Park’s lips against his thigh sent a tired pang of lust through Cooper, and he nearly laughed at the hopeful ambition of his body. Something about Park made him want to fuck all night. They’d been a bit rough and it had been a while, so his ass was not quite on board, but given some time Cooper could definitely muster up the energy for a lazy hand job.
Or perhaps, in an hour or so, Park would be amenable to switching. The thought of his cock pushing into Oliver’s tight, toned ass sent a sharp surge of energy through Cooper. Moving to the bed, however, would be imperative.
He was considering how to float the idea when he realized he didn’t feel lips on his skin anymore. He glanced down.
Park was leaning back slightly in a sort of twisted cobra pose, half on, half off the couch. He was examining the scars on Cooper’s lower belly.
Feeling Cooper’s gaze, or maybe his sudden tension, Park looked up. His face was serious and troubled.
Cooper tried to joke. “Any lower and tonight wouldn’t have been half as fun.”
Park didn’t smile. “When?”
“About a year ago now.”
He was still watching Cooper. Waiting for more explanation.
Cooper sighed. “Chasing a suspect. I got...separated from my partner.”
“Jefferson?”
“No. This was before the BSI.” Park raised his eyebrows, and Cooper let the implications of that sink in.
Separated was a generous term. He’d heard Agent Howards screaming at him to stand down and wait for backup, but Cooper had ignored him. It hadn’t even been their case, though everyone knew about it. The “monster” slashing up young women in Philly. They were just there at the right time, right place, and he’d had a good chance at him. Or so he later claimed to Howards.
“He wasn’t expecting me to catch up to him,” Cooper said, remembering the look on Symer’s face when Cooper had followed him right off the warehouse roof, onto a Dumpster in a jump that had almost broken Cooper’s ankles, and cornered Symer in an alley. Surprise, definitely. But something else, too. He’d been impressed. Maybe a little curious. He had seen Cooper as a worthy opponent.
So when Symer had swiped at his belly, almost gently and apparently unarmed, Cooper had half expected to feel the slap of Symer’s palm and an attaboy.
Instead, Cooper had collapsed. His knees slammed into the concrete, though he didn’t even notice the pain. Not while his guts were simultaneously on fire and unnaturally cool and breezy.
Symer had waved his shockingly clawed hand and loped off before Cooper could make a sound.
“He got away,” Cooper added, somewhat unnecessarily, and traced the vicious marks puckering and twisting his stomach. He didn’t want to give Park the opportunity to ask about the medical fallout, so he hastily continued, “Anyway. Word got around, I suppose, and when I got out of the hospital I had an invitation to join the BSI. They said it was because they were impressed I’d been able to keep up with him, but it was at least a little bit to keep me quiet about what I’d seen and stop me from asking questions.”
“Do you regret it?” Park asked.
Cooper stroked Park’s hair absently. “As soon as I saw him jump a moving car like it was a puddle, I didn’t have a choice. I needed to know. I would have agreed to anything they asked just to know.”
“But do you regret it? Is it better knowing?”
Cooper got the impression Park wasn’t just asking out of concern for his well-being. It was a startling reminder, interrupting his sex high, that this naked, earnest-looking man splayed over his knees was a Trust agent. With a Trust agenda.
He answered somewhat vaguely. “Sometimes I miss the life I would have had if I didn’t know. But...them’s the breaks,” he finished lightly. Perhaps he’d been less vague than he’d hoped because Park was nodding, looking serious and contemplative, like Cooper had really given him something to think about.
God, he hoped this hadn’t been some sort of get-close-to-the-BSI-agent-and-get-a-feel-for-the-mood. If so, Park had gotten a feel for a lot more than he set out to.
Was that why Park had requested to be put on this case? To seduce Cooper? The errant thought was physically painful as well as absurd. To what effect? And why him? Because they shared the link of Jacob Symer? Did Park even know that?
Cooper turned the words over in his mouth, contemplating how to ask.
“They never did end up catching up to him. Jefferson always kept an ear open for me, though. I guess that’s what got him started looking up here. In Florence.”
Park blinked. He looked genuinely confused.
Cooper took a breath. “Jacob Symer. He was the one who attacked me, and killed those women. Though we never did find any proof.” Park tensed slightly and then relaxed. Cooper wouldn’t have noticed at all if they hadn’t been lying skin to skin.
“I didn’t know that,” Park said eventually, watching Cooper’s expression.
“But you did know who Jacob Symer was. Before Jefferson mentioned him this morning, I mean.”
“I’ve never met him.”
“And your family? Did any of them ever meet him?”
“Yes.” Park smiled a little mockingly. “But they didn’t kill him.”
“Would you know?”
“Yes.” He paused. “They were looking for him, too.”
“Why? Didn’t they ask him to leave town?”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So. He left his stuff behind.”
“And they, what, wanted a forwarding address?”
“If he had one.”
Cooper propped himself up on his elbows and frowned. “You do think someone killed Symer.”
“Someone,” Park agreed.
“So if not...” Cooper trailed off.
“If not my family, who?” Park guessed a little wryly. Cooper started to stammer a response, and Park cut him off with a kiss on his hip. “I know. And... I don’t know.”
“Is that why you’re here? Why you asked to be put on this case? You think it’s connected?”
Park stared at him for a long time. Almost to the point where Cooper considered repeating the question. Finally he said, obviously choosing his words carefully, “It isn’t the first unexplained werewolf disappearance in this area. Stuff like Tonya’s boyfriend going missing while passing through town has been happening for a while. But I don’t see how it’s connected to what’s happening now.”
“Jesus. And here I thought small-town living was supposed to be good for your health. Maybe they’re all holed up together at wherever Baker’s secret hideout is, huh?”
Park frowned and jerked his head as if shaking off an irritating fly. “Is it why you agreed to come here?” He changed the subject, brushing the ropes of hardened scar tissue with the pad of his thumb. “Were you hoping to find Symer?”
“I didn’t even know Symer had ever lived in Florence until this morning.”
Park cocked his head. “Jefferson didn’t tell you before?”
“He probably just found out himself.”
Park hummed, and seemed distracted by his own thoughts. Cooper lay back down on the couch and stared at the motel’s rough ceiling.
If he had known Symer was here, what would he have done? Hunt him down on some revenge quest? Not damn likely. Cooper couldn’t imagine anything less like him. He hadn’t even thought that much about Symer in the months following the attack. Not that he’d ever admit it to Jefferson. But he’d been too busy obsessing over other things. His terror of having permanent health problems, for one. How horrible IV feeding was for another. But being injured in the line of duty was a risk he’d knowingly signed up for joining the FBI. Discovering an entire fantastical community had been living under his nose all his life took up a lot more of his thoughts. That and the sick shame and guilt that he’d run after Symer into that alley knowing that something was not quite right, disobeying his partner, Howards, and risking both of their lives, because he was so pathetically desperate to prove himself.
Well, he’d proven himself all right. To be a fool.
He had a feeling he was doing the same thing on this case, too.
Park must have seen the frown settling into Cooper’s face and misread the reason. “I won’t let anyone else hurt you,” he murmured, and kissed the scars like he was sealing a contract.
Cooper smiled faintly. His previous surge of energy was long gone. He felt very tired and very old. Older than Park, anyway, who sounded so sincere but so naïve. Like watching a boy of seven declare he was the man of the house now or a mother telling her child she’d love him forever. Longer than. For infinity times infinity.
He could see Park believed it. In that moment he probably saw himself defending Cooper against faceless fanged enemies. But Jacob Symer wasn’t the only hidden monster Cooper had discovered in that alley, and Park couldn’t protect him from the recklessness he’d found within himself.
He tightened his grip in Park’s hair and tugged him up to his face to place a gentle kiss on his lips.
“I got you,” Park murmured into his mouth, as if he could taste the doubt.
“I know,” Cooper said. “I know.”
* * *
Cooper awoke alone. For once his phone wasn’t ringing the morning in like some bad-news rooster. In fact, the whole room was still and quiet. Park’s room. Minus Park, apparently.
At some point last night they’d stumbled into bed together after Cooper made half-hearted noises about returning to his own room which Park had promptly dismissed, hinting at a far more enjoyable sort of wake-up call if he stayed here instead.
Cooper wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that, even if it did risk Jefferson catching his walk of shame. Besides, by then it had been late, he’d been exhausted and the thought of putting his clothes on just to shuffle a couple doors down to his own lonely room had been unappealing in the extreme. Staying over was just the practical thing to do. Not because he’d wanted to, god, cuddle or anything soppy like that.
So he’d gotten into bed without too much protest, settling under the covers without touching Park, and was just drifting off when he’d felt Park’s hand come down on his hip and gently roll him over so that Cooper was pressed into his side, face neatly against Park’s chest. It was surprisingly comfortable, and after the briefest resistance Cooper let himself scoot closer and nuzzle his skin. Park still smelled so good despite the overlaying aromas of dried sweat and sex. Like the forest, the fresh outdoors and man. When Cooper pressed closer still, inhaling the sweet scent deeply, he could practically hear Park choking on satisfaction.
Embarrassed, Cooper jerked away and snapped, “Didn’t peg you for the clingy type, Park.”
“You haven’t pegged me yet at all,” Park replied cheekily, and tugged Cooper back down, pushing his head back to his chest and reaching down to hitch Cooper’s leg up over him.
Cooper made some grumbling sounds about literally getting a leg over, but his heart wasn’t in it. His heart was too busy feeling all warm and steady and beating at a remarkably sedate pace. Remarkable for Cooper, anyway. He’d drifted off feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time.
But now it was morning and he was here alone. Cooper stretched like a starfish, embracing the aches from last night, and waited for the regret to hit him.
Then he sat up and waited a bit more just in case it was a fluke. But it never came. He seemed...fine with it. Even without the sex endorphins to distract him, he felt better than fine. He could feel his own lips twitching as if fighting a smile and that sneaking sense of smugness was back. This morning Cooper didn’t bother to begrudge himself. He’d earned a little ego.
Mmmph, it had been good. The way Park responded to the things Cooper had said, all passion and need—it made him feel powerful. His cock twitched as he reminisced.
If Park got back from wherever he was early enough, Cooper had a few more choice things to say ready to go. Especially if he came back bearing more gifts of caffeine.
And even now, in the daylight, sober as a judge without sex fogging his brain, he wasn’t worried about saying the wrong thing and embarrassing himself. Not with Park. Oliver.
It was a funny thing how trusting a sexual partner could salve the oldest psychological burns.
That thought caught him by surprise. Cooper stared at his own startled reflection in the dresser mirror across from the bed. His thick, dark blond hair was sticking up in wild tufts and his eyes were brighter, more intense than usual. An almost jade color that was especially striking in his nearly unrecognizable relaxed and heavy-lidded face. Faint red marks were scattered from his neck down his chest where Park had nipped him. They didn’t hurt and would probably fade by lunch, but for now they were proof of what had happened last night. Cooper touched one and his reflection smiled.
He did. Trust Park, that is. And he was starting to...care for him, too. Maybe it was stupid and naïve of him. Too quick, for sure. But he’d been more vulnerable with this guy in the last three days, both by choice and not, than he’d been with another person since he was eleven years old and his dad told him boys didn’t cry and they certainly didn’t talk about their feelings.
What that meant for the future, or even the rest of the day, he wasn’t sure. Sex, yes. Cooper wanted him again and he was sure Park wanted him, too. But anything beyond that?
He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. Was he a teenager going to spend the morning wondering if his crush liked him back or was he going to jack off in the shower like a grown-ass man?
He took a shower. By the time he got out, Park still hadn’t returned. Cooper checked his phone. Nothing. It wasn’t early morning anymore. He’d expected them to be heading to the station around now.
He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to seem dependent, then called Park.
The call went straight to voice mail. Why would Park have turned his phone off? Not to get coffee, surely. Cooper went to the door and, after sending a quick plea out into the universe that Jefferson wasn’t walking by at the moment, opened it and stepped onto the outside walkway overlooking the parking lot. The rental car was still there, unmoved from last night. Jefferson’s was gone, though.
The image of Park and Jefferson driving somewhere together without telling him flashed through his head, and he dismissed it immediately. No way. Especially not after the way they’d left things last night.
Cooper went back inside. He should get a move on and start the day. He still wanted to follow up with that couple at Bear’s who may have witnessed something of Jenny’s attack, and the coroner would have a report on Officer Mike Miller by now.
But he felt reluctant to leave with Park MIA. Goddamn morning people, throwing his schedule off. He thought back to the last two mornings. Yesterday Park had left to shower and dress in his own room, but before Cooper had used the shower this morning it had been dry, untouched.
The morning before that Park had been in jogging clothes. He had obviously been running, his hair and body sweaty, but his clothes had been fresh and dry.
...just inconvenient. Being naked. The memory snuck up on Cooper, and he smiled faintly at how embarrassed he’d been at the time. Park said he shifted in the mornings. Maybe he’d gone somewhere to run around as a wolf for a bit. Cooper tried to remember if Park had had his phone on him that day. Perhaps he’d left it behind when he shifted and the battery was just dead.
Cooper did a cursory search of the room for Park’s phone or any sort of clue as to where he’d be. A note, for example, would have been nice.
At first it made him edgy, the thought of Park returning as he was rifling through his drawers, elbow-deep in his underwear. But after a while with no sign of phone or note or clue, Cooper began hoping Park would catch him snooping. At least then he’d be back. He didn’t come across anything helpful. Though in the nightstand he did find a well-thumbed Chilean novel—intimidating for someone who could ask for directions to the library in Spanish but not read a goddamn thing once he got there—and a discreet pair of reading glasses which made him smile in a way he was glad Park wasn’t there to see.
Eventually, Cooper went to his own room to get changed, but not before snagging both the rental car keys and the spare key card he’d found on the nightstand. He didn’t know why he might need to return to Park’s room, but he wanted to keep his options open.
As he was getting dressed, Cooper’s cell buzzed and he nearly knocked himself out hurrying to answer it with his pants only half on.
“Dayton,” he breathed heavily.
There was a pause as if the other person was startled and then a woman’s voice. Not Park. “I got that information from Tonya and Mac.”
“Ru—Ms. Abouesse?”
“Who else?” Rudi snapped.
“Right. Of course.” Cooper struggled to remember what information he’d requested from Rudi. “Did you find out why the packs stopped fighting?”
“Yeah, Gould called the police.”
Cooper sat on the bed. “What? No he didn’t.” Florence may not have a lot of experience with violent crime, but a 911 call from the missing person at the time of disappearance would surely have been noted.
“He did,” Rudi argued. “They both swear they heard it. And Tonya says later she saw a state vehicle pulling round the back.” She paused. “She also said Sam called and asked the same thing.”
“And she gave him the same information?”
“Yeah.”
“Any word yet from Whittaker?”
Rudi snarled and the phone crackled.
Cooper would take that as a no. “What about Park? Oliver?”
“What about him?”
“Have you—” Cooper stopped, unsure how much he wanted to reveal. “Did you tell him this yet?”
“I hadn’t heard back from Tonya when he called me at the ass crack of dawn. He said to call you when I knew.”
“Right,” Cooper said, his heart pounding. “And that thing he called you about this morning, any updates on that?”
“No. I still haven’t seen Baker. I told him that. Not for over two weeks now when he came to the Pumphouse wanting me to do something about trespassers on his property.”
“Right. And did you?”
“With two BSI sanctions on my head? I told him to go to the cops or deal with it himself, but leave me out of it.”
Cooper frowned. “Thank you, Ms. Abouesse. One more thing—where would Park go to get coffee around here?”
There was a huffing sound. “You’ve got some nerve. Who do you think I am, town tour guide?”
“That’s not—” But he was talking to himself. Call ended.
Cooper finished getting dressed and pulled up cafés in the area on his phone. There were two in walking distance. One was a chain, and Cooper felt sure he would have remembered the familiar logo on the cup yesterday. The second was called Spill the Beans. It was a bit farther from the motel, but he could see Park putting in the extra distance to support a punny independent business.
Hopefully.
As soon as he walked into Spill the Beans, he knew he’d made the right choice. Cooper recognized the slightly off-white to-go cups and blocky brown font.
“Morning. Can I help you?” A young woman with violet hair, glasses and multiple piercings smiled faintly at him.
“Do you know an Oliver Park?”
The girl raised one eyebrow; the silver ring there twitched. “If this is a pickup line, dude, it’s way too early for that.”
Cooper flushed. “No. No, I’m trying to find out if my...friend came in here this morning.” He stumbled slightly on friend. It was because he was going to call him his partner but decided the locals didn’t need to know the visiting agents couldn’t even keep track of each other, never mind the unsub.
The girl heard the hitch and assumed it was for a different and not altogether untrue reason. “Oh, I get it.” She looked him over again, a more open and relaxed assessment, and then nodded to herself as if she’d found whatever she’d been looking for. Cooper tried not to fidget in annoyance. “All right, what’s your friend look like?”
“Uh, in his thirties, dark brown hair, brown eyes, a bit taller than me. Very, ah, fit.”
Unbelievably strong. A disarmingly vulnerable smile. Gorgeous. Sweet. Clever.
“Kind of an expressionless face,” Cooper finished awkwardly.
“Yikes.” The girl shook her head. “What the hell is wrong with you losing someone like that?” She gave him a sympathetic look. “No tall, dark and handsome men came in this morning. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for you, too. When you find him, put a leash on him.” She laughed, but Cooper felt too jumpy to join in.
He made some vague noises that were meant to convey thanks and disappointment and wandered back to the car. He tried calling Park again. Voice mail.
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
Cooper sat in the driver’s seat and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Not with Oliver.
He took a deep breath.
“I’m a thirtysomething-year-old male. I gave up being a professor to join the Trust and protect wolves. I left my family’s pack but claim there’s no bad blood between us and am defensive of them. I’m...protective.”
What had Park said yesterday? I won’t let anyone else hurt you. Was that the general sort of mushy crap people said naked or did Park actually think Cooper was in danger? From who?
He had lied to Jefferson about why he requested to be put on this case. And Cooper hadn’t missed that Park had used sex as a distraction, admittedly successfully, when the subject had come up again. But then later he’d implied he was here because of the history of missing werewolves, of which there were many, and apparently more every minute.
Why had Park called Rudi so early to ask about Baker?
Cooper opened his eyes, started the car and called Jefferson.
“Dayton?”
“Where are you?”
“At the station. Are you on your way in?”
“No.” Cooper reversed the car and got on the road. He knew the answer but had to ask anyway. “Is Park there?”
Jefferson paused. “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen him and I’ve been here all morning. Slacking off, is he?”
“No. No, something’s wrong. I think he’s in trouble.”
Jefferson huffed into the phone. “He’s a wolf, Dayton. He can take care of himself.”
“But that’s not true, is it?”
There was another pause. “What do you mean?”
“Forget it. I just... I think we’ve been looking at this the wrong way, and I think Park is in danger.”
“What do you need me to do?” Jefferson said immediately. Not questioning Cooper’s instincts. Cooper took a moment to be grateful he had a partner like Jefferson.
“Everything keeps coming back to Baker’s. I’m going to start there.”
“And then what, wander around the woods whistling for him?” Jefferson’s voice was harsh, as if Cooper needed reminding what a stupid plan this was.
“Gould called the police right before he disappeared.”
“No he didn’t. There’d be a record of a 911 call.”
“Not if he didn’t call 911.”
“You think the unsub is one of Florence’s own department?”
“I think he called the personal number of someone with a state vehicle to pick up him and his bike when his gas was stolen. Gould’s bike is at Baker’s...”
“So if Gould was taken alive, he might not be too far,” Jefferson finished.
Cooper squeezed the steering wheel so tight his knuckles popped. He needed to believe that Gould had been taken alive because he needed to believe Park had been, too. The others, Bornestein and Doe, had been held for a few days at least.
Better alive and tortured than dead and rotting somewhere, as Park said. It wasn’t as comforting as it had been before.
Jefferson said, “Come pick me up at the station. We’ll go together.”
“No,” Cooper said. “I’m closer. We don’t have time. Just meet me there. And, Jefferson, if the unsub is at the station...watch your back.”
Jefferson protested, “What if he’s already at Baker’s? I’m just supposed to let you go there by yourself?”
“Not exactly,” Cooper said with a deep breath.