“I need to go find Caleb.” Justin tried to shove Juice off of him, but the guy was as solid as the brick wall at his back.
Juice grabbed Justin’s arms in a bruising grip and slammed them into the wall on either side of Justin’s head. His cast made a loud thud, and Justin knew he was in serious trouble.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to have you?” Juice’s lips slid over Justin’s jaw. Justin snapped his head to the side as he slammed his eyes closed. “But Caleb was always there, always in the way. Mmm,” Juice murmured. “Innocence with a fuck-me mouth.”
Justin cried out in panic when one of Juice’s hands squeezed his soft cock through his slacks.
“And wouldn’t you know,” Juice said, pressing his body harder into Justin’s, “tonight is my lucky night.”
Chapter Seven
Demetri sat in the back of his car, lost in thought when Wulf lowered the partition that separated the two. His ice-blue eyes gazed into the rearview mirror, and Demetri knew something was amiss. After a long day at the office, all Demetri wanted to do was go home, bathe, and then visit with Justin. From Wulf’s expression, this was not going to happen. “What is it?”
“Caleb and Justin are at a nightclub, King Frost.” Wulf’s tone indicated that he did not want to be the bearer of bad news. Wulf was the first person Demetri had turned, and the shifter had remained loyal and at his side for centuries. Everyone Demetri had turned was loyal, though he hadn’t converted anyone in a very long time.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Demetri waved a hand. “Take us there.”
If this was Caleb’s idea of protecting Justin, then the boy had failed. Demetri wasn’t going to deny that this disappointed him, but had he really expected Caleb to come through with shining colors? His son still had a lot of maturing to do. But he had hoped that this task would help speed up the process.
Demetri tugged at the cuffs of his suit jacket as he tried to figure out what to do with his son. Caleb might need time to mentally mature, but as far as his physique and attitude, the boy was developing quickly, his dominant behavior a telltale sign that soon he would have to leave Frost Manor and form a pack of his own. Although this made Demetri proud, it saddened him as well. He loved hearing his son’s laughter throughout the Manor. He could still remember Caleb as a young pup, so inquisitive, so full of life.
This was one of the reasons he needed to make Justin his mistress—aside from his obvious feelings for the man. Demetri would be haunted by the lonely halls if Caleb were to leave soon. But the boy still had a good year or two before it was time for him to move on. Demetri didn’t want to spend that time fighting with his son, but knew it was inevitable. Caleb had the personality of an alpha and couldn’t help who he was.
The car came to a stop outside a building that sat on the corner in a less than desirable neighborhood. “Are you sure this is the place?” he asked Wulf. There were vagrants littering the streets, hookers of every shape, form, and fashion. Demetri spotted two men grinding against one another to the left of the door. His eyes slid down the waiting line, and to Demetri’s surprise, almost everyone who waited to get in was a werewolf. Why had he never heard of this club before?
Wulf stopped at the door, and Demetri exited the car, standing to his full height. The line of youthful partiers grew quiet as everyone looked his way. Even the few humans who were waiting to get in gaped at him. The muscular bouncer at the door tilted his neck in respect. “King Frost, you grace us with your presence.”
“I am told my son and mistress are inside.”
The bouncer’s eyes widened. “I was not aware you had taken a mistress. Yes, Caleb came in earlier with a young human. But I had no idea the human… Please, go right in.” The bouncer stepped aside after tripping over his tongue.
Wulf followed close behind as the two walked through the dense wall of bodies. The people parted as Demetri strode through, gaping up at him as if they couldn’t believe their king had come to such a place.
A gentleman with slick hair and an expensive suit hurried over to Demetri, running his hands down his jacket. “King Frost, I am Scott Barrington. I own this establishment and might I say what a pleasure it is to meet you?” The man held out his hand, but Demetri just stared at it.
“You allow the underage to come here?” His tone was calm but filled with a disapproving tone. The owner’s eyes grew wide as he glanced around, as if looking for an escape. Demetri hadn’t come here for this. He’d deal with this club’s rule breaking later.