Page 114 of Tracking Wolfe

“C’mere,” I murmured, pulling him close to me in the back seat. He curled into my side and let out a breath, forcing his muscles to release as he relaxed into me.

“That was a lot,” he admitted.

I ran my fingers through his hair and massaged the muscles in his neck and shoulders while Jude babbled happily from the front seat about how incredible Wolfe’s song was and how talented he was.

We all knew the reality of the situation would come crashing down on Jude eventually. By tonight, he’d get over the surprise and start to wonder why Wolfe had kept such a big secret. Then he’d probably be unable to sleep. Judging by the frequent looks Derek was giving him from the driver’s seat, I could tell Derek was already well aware of the oncoming storm.

But for now, Jude managed to focus on the positive. How proud he was, how talented Wolfe was. How everything would be okay, Wolfe would see. Being famous had upsides and…

Wolfe’s voice whispered so low only I could hear it. “Can we sleep at your place tonight?”

I whispered back, “’Course, baby. Whatever you want.”

He released a relieved breath, and then his expression turned curious. “Hey, how’d you get here so fast? There wasn’t another set of flights to Legacy that didn’t involve multiple layovers.”

I explained about flying to San Francisco first. About talking to Jude and Derek.

“Did you tell them about… everything that happened?”

I knew he meant Jake. “No. I figured that was your call.”

Wolfe nodded. “I’ll tell them, but not now. After everything settles down, we’ll talk.”

I made a sound of agreement. There would be a lot to talk about.

I needed to tell him about my conversation with Jake and the NDA, if he hadn’t already heard it from Clay. And about what I’d promised to do for Shay.

We also needed to discuss personal security, at least for the short term. And he needed to let me know how he envisioned his day-to-day life working if—no, when—he moved in with me.

“Thank you for always finding me.” Wolfe’s smile was evident in his voice.

I rubbed a hand up and down his back. “I’d prefer it if you’d stop running off.”

His laughter filled my lungs like clean mountain air. Like everything I’d ever needed.

“Give me a reason to stay, old man,” he teased softly.

I leaned in and kissed his jaw, his cheek, his forehead, and finally his deep-red lips. Then I reached for his hand and curled my index finger around the ring finger on his left hand, squeezing firmly enough for him to feel it.

“I will.”

EPILOGUE

WOLFE, OCTOBER

The tight heat of Trace’s ass around my cock felt new every fucking time I was lucky enough to experience it. Six months of plastering myself as close to Trace Bishop as possible. And everything still felt new.

“Oh god, Trace,” I croaked. “Not gonna last.”

I felt his huff of laughter in my dick. “You say that every time you fuck me.”

He was on his back on our sofa, knees up by his shoulders and face ruddy from the hour-long make-out session that preceded this. My cock pushed deeper inside him until my hips brushed his ass.

His eyes rolled back. “There. Fuck, baby. More.”

My brain immediately began running chromatic scales to keep from thinking about how good this felt. About the ridged muscles of his abs from his busy summer at SERA. The way his tan made his eyes even brighter. The cut quad muscles under my greedy fingers. The way he sounded like sex incarnate every time he murmured the word baby at me.

“Stop talking,” I squeaked.