Free Heat Rising: A KinKaid Wolf Pack Story by Jessica Lee

slipped his bike into the darkened parking space across the street from the club where Landry had pulled his vehicle. Kaleb tugged his helmet off, secured it to the seat, and sticking to the shadows, headed in the direction of his partners destination. There was more than one way to find out what his friend was trying to hide.
    The lot’s loose gravel crunched under his boot heels, the sound waves hitting his ears with the thunderous impact of a rockslide. He cringed at the noise. Kaleb already felt like a complete dick for spying on his partner, and the whole thing had him on edge. The other enforcer would resent the hell out of knowing Kaleb tailed him. And if he got caught, Kaleb wasn’t sure if Landry would ever forgive him. But he wasn’t about to back out now, not when his instincts said his best friend was in trouble.
    Up ahead and above the club’s thick black door, the green neon sign read, The Scene. Kaleb had heard about the place before. It was about an hour and half drive from their territory and mainly catered to those in the gay community with a taste for fetish. The fact that Landry was inside those walls wasn’t part of the mystery. His friend’s sexuality wasn’t a big secret, nor was the fact the male occasionally liked it rough when he fucked. Over the years, Kaleb had overheard enough of the rumors about his partner’s escapades, so he wasn’t surprised when Landry’s trail had led him here.
    Inside, the music slammed into Kaleb’s chest, the deep bass vibrating his sternum. Lady GaGa’s voice rang inside his ears, her lyrics preaching something about Money, Honey. After handing over a twenty for a cover charge, Kaleb strolled deeper into the club.
    Swinging his head right then left, Kaleb’s gaze was immediately drawn to the cages hanging from diagonal corners of the room. The men behind the bars writhed in time to the beat of the music, wearing nothing but tan muscle and gold thongs, their faces hidden by masks. Damn…
    On the small dance floor, the patrons, most with their chests bare, mimicked the show above with their partners. Kaleb swallowed hard, his pulse racing from the erotic heat wave bouncing off his senses.
    He scanned the crowd, seeking out the familiar dark head and broad shoulders belonging to his friend. Rumors placed about half the club’s clientele as shifters. Based on the scents hitting his nostrils, they weren’t far off the mark. Out of the corner of his eye, Kaleb spotted a man wearing a studded leather collar, its leash attached to the palm of another shirtless, muscle-bound man behind him. His owner yanked the guy’s chain, spinning him around for a fast, hard kiss. Next, he shoved his pet to his knees right before rubbing the leather-clad bulge in his crotch in his sub’s face. Is that what Landry liked from his males? Did he chain his lovers and force them to their knees?
    Kaleb’s cock kicked at the thought, going rock hard. Fuck! He shook his head. Kaleb had to get out of there soon. All the PDA’s were messing with his brain cells.
    Finding a discreet spot at the far corner of the bar that allowed him a decent view of the club and its surrounding tables, Kaleb signaled for the bartender. This definitely called for a drink. Maybe more than one depending on how the night went.
    The barkeep, wearing not much more than twin nipple rings, stopped in front of him and leaned in.
    “Beer. Whatever you have cold and bottled.”
    The guy nodded and headed off. Kaleb scanned the room once more, noting more than once a procession of men entering and exiting in pairs down a guarded hallway. The bartender returned and plopped down a Heineken in front of Kaleb.
    “Open a tab, sweetie?” Nipple Rings cocked his hip and winked. The fake lashes and heavy black eyeliner exaggerated the almond shape of his eye. From the chin up, the guy was completely androgynous with long dark hair and a full pouty mouth. He really was quite…pretty.
    “Yeah.” Kaleb sighed. He