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

hadn’t spotted Landry yet anyway. “Why the hell not?” At least while he waited, the scenery around the place was pretty entertaining to watch.
    The bartender started to turn away. “Hey, wait a sec.” He leaned back in and Kaleb eased in a little closer so he didn’t have to shout over the music. “What exactly happens in that area of the club?” Kaleb pointed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating what appeared to be an exclusive corridor.
    Nipple Rings flashed him a provocative grin. “Sweetie, that section is for those who want privacy when they want to do more than dance with their partner.”
    “I see.” Kaleb nodded.
    “I get off in twenty if you really want to…see,” he said with another flap of his butterfly wing lashes.
    Umm…no, he really didn’t. “Thanks. Not tonight.” Not with him. The mental image of Landry tugging him down that hallway, though, flashed inside his head, sending his heart thudding against his sternum, blood slamming into Kaleb’s cock. His balls tightened. Holy hell. Why did the very thought of his partner dragging him back there like some badass Dom wanting to rock Kaleb’s world have him on the edge of blowing one right there inside his jeans?
    “Your loss, sweetie,” the bartended muttered and moved away.
    Shit. He really did need to get laid. Kaleb glanced around the room, catching sight of a St. Andrew’s Cross in the back of the large space. Some guy was strapped to the wood, his bare back glistening with sweat under a row of halogens while his Dom worked him over with what looked like a flogger.
    Maybe that’s what Kaleb needed to get rid of all his extra energy: a Dom to whale on his ass with one of those straps? Kaleb grinned to himself. Perhaps then the idea of Landry’s large hands, and whatever else he wanted to place on Kaleb’s rear end, wouldn’t seem so fucking appealing.
    The DJ switched tracks, turning back the years to the pulse-pounding sound of Nine Inch Nail’s Closer .
    How appropriate.
    At that moment, Landry’s profile came into sight. He stood outside the private corridor with a man Kaleb had never seen before. The stranger had long dark hair and was wearing a black leather vest and pants. Suddenly, Landry closed the distance between them, spearing his fingers into the hair at the other man’s nape, tugging the stranger’s head back. Was he pissed, or was this a part of a game Landry liked to play?
    Risking detection, Kaleb slipped from his spot at the bar. He couldn’t hear a damn thing or even read their lips at his current distance. But before he could get a better look, both men turned and disappeared down the hall. Fuck!
    Kaleb reversed his steps, found a seat back at the bar, and motioned at the bartender for another round. Picking at the curling label on his Heineken, Kaleb couldn’t help but hit rewind inside his head on what he’d just witnessed. Landry’s face inches from the other man’s mouth. Were they kissing right about now? Kaleb squirmed on the stool, his gut tightening at the thought. Stop it! Kaleb squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the visual replay to shut down. It wasn’t like he’d never been around when Landry had scored a hook-up in the past, and Christ, it wasn’t like he’d considered for one minute the male was living like a monk. Then what the hell is the problem?
    “You okay, sweetie?” The bartender’s voice cut through another loop of the song’s chorus. Kaleb lifted his lids, then grabbed the new icy bottle of beer in front of him.
    “I will be in just a few minutes.” Kaleb sneered and downed a gulp of the chilled brew.
    Fifteen minutes later and halfway through his third bottle, Kaleb’s brain and limbs were on the cusp of that sweet, numb don’t really give a shit anymore mode when the hard feel of another male’s chest pressed against his back. Kaleb eased his brew down onto the wood.
    “I want you,” a deep voice stated all matter-of-fact at his ear.
    You gotta be kidding me.
    With a