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Wyatt was awake, dressed, and sitting propped up against the headboard of the bed when I woke up the next morning. "What time did you get up this morning?" "Not long ago. I showed the boys where all the breakfast stuff is. Jack's got some jobs scheduled for today, and Morgan's going to tag along to help. Before you ask; yes, they did clear it with Jack's dad." "Did you hear them last night? It sounded like they were having a good time, but I don't think they got a lot of sleep." He laughed and bent down to kiss me. "Yes, I heard them, but they probably heard you last night too, so we're even." "Can I help it if you turn me on?" "No, you can't help it ‑ I keep telling you we're life-bonded. You're mine, and I'm yours from now on." "Listen to that talk. Stop right now, or I'll have to tear those clothes off you." "And that would be a bad thing, because . . .?" I laughed and made my way into the bathroom to empty my bladder. I pulled on a pair of shorts and headed for the kitchen. The three guys were hunkered down at the table motoring through cereal, fruit, and toast with big gobs of peanut butter. Jack looked up at me as I came in. He smiled broadly, then blushed red. I winked at him, and he blushed even more. Cute. After what must have been thousands of calories at breakfast, the three amigos headed out the door to Jack's truck. Wyatt called after Nash, "Where are you going?" "I'm tagging along as a chaperone. I'm afraid these two would just spend the day trading blow jobs, if someone didn't watch them." Jack and Morgan laughed, but I saw the back of Jack's neck begin to redden at the same time. When the guys were gone, Wyatt poured himself another cup of coffee and said, "I think Morgan and Jack have bonded." "I know they had a good time. That reminds me, I need to change the sheets in that room. Judging from the sounds last night, the sheets may have to be burned." "I'll have the guys start sleeping over at my place." "Where will you put them?" "Nash can still sleep out in the camper. I'll let Morgan have the bedroom, so he has some privacy when Jack stays over." "Where are you going to sleep?" "Here with you, if you'll let me." I pulled him into a hug, almost spilling his coffee. It was nearly lunch before the breakfast dishes were cleaned up. That hug led to some serious kissing; the kissing led to some time back in the bedroom followed, by a joint shower. I called Uncle Nathaniel to try to pin him down on when he would arrive at the cottage. He said he had a couple of doctor appointments during the week, but thought he and Jeremy would drive up on Friday. Wyatt and I went over to his cottage later in the afternoon. We got the bedroom and the camper prepared for Nash and Morgan, and packed some of Wyatt's clothes to take back to my place. I sat out by the lake and read a book while he did some work in his studio. I also called one of my colleagues at the CDC to ask if she'd ever heard of any cases of extremely rapid healing. I tried to give her the impression that I was asking about someone else, but I'm sure she saw through it and knew I was the patient in question. She promised to do some searching in the medical literature and CDC databases and call me back in a couple of days. Late in the afternoon, Wyatt started pulling things together for dinner. I volunteered to help, and was assigned the job of peeling and slicing some potatoes for scalloped potatoes to go along with the large roast he was seasoning for the oven. As I was slicing the potatoes, I accidently took a slice out of my left thumb. Dinner preparations were put on hold while Wyatt blotted the blood and wrapped the thumb in gauze and tape. He then poured me a glass of wine, gave my ass a playful pat, and told me to go sit out by the lake. The wine helped a little, but my thumb still hurt like a bitch. The cut was deep, but not deep enough to need stiches. I wasn't going to be doing much with that thumb for several days. The three amigos arrived from work. Jack carried an overnight bag. Wyatt's bed was going to be well-used that night. Wyatt and I put the finishing touches on dinner while the guys jacked the camper up on a frame, so they could take it off the truck bed and be able to use the truck without lugging around Nash's bedroom at the same time. Dinner was a success . . . there weren't any leftovers. I suspected leftovers would be a rare thing with the appetites those three guys displayed. After dinner, the guys cleaned up the kitchen and washed the dishes while Wyatt and I sat out at the lake shore. We watched the sunset, then headed over to my cottage for the night leaving the guys to their own devices. On the way over to my place, Wyatt told me he'd spotted a couple of six packs of beer in the back seat of Jack's truck. He'd warned Nash to keep an eye on things, so Jack and Morgan wouldn't be too hung over in the morning. Our own evening was pretty low key. We talked for a while, then took each other to bed. More Wowza!
I'd slept well. I heard Wyatt moving around in the kitchen and smelled coffee brewing. I could get used to waking up this way. I had some breakfast and a cup of coffee before heading to the bathroom for a quick shower and shave. I unwrapped the bandages around my thumb before getting in the shower with the intention of putting a fresh dressing on the wound after the shower. It wasn't necessary. What had been a fairly deep gash that I had expected would take several days in bandages was now completely healed! Man, I had to get a handle on whatever was going on with my body! Wyatt and I made a trip into Escanaba for more supplies. The three young guys had already put a large dent in the supply of snack foods we'd purchased. Both houses needed some replenishing of those supplies. After shopping, we grabbed a quick lunch before heading back to Nowhere. I hadn't run in several days. When I told Wyatt I was going to go for a run, he said he'd go with me, and he just happened to have a set of running clothes out in his truck. "Are you my bodyguard?" I chided. "All the time, babe. And forever." The look in his eyes made me weak in the knees. It was hard to resist the urge to melt into his arms, but somehow I found the resolve. We'd changed out and were almost out the door when my cell phone rang. It was Agent Portillo. "Dr. Wolf, the lab is done with your vehicle. It should be back up here by early tomorrow morning. Would Mr. Johnson be able to bring you up to the office in Marquette to pick it up? We found several sets of finger prints in your vehicle, and the lab would like us to get a set of prints from you and Mr. Johnson, so we can tell which ones are yours." "Let me check." I quickly explained the situation to Wyatt. He nodded his agreement. "That would work, Agent Portillo. What time would you like us up there?" "Would ten be too early?" "No, that would be fine. We'll see you then." "Uh, Dr. Wolf, I need to talk with you again about my offer of protection. You didn't tell me that someone had broken into your condo in Atlanta. That increases my concerns for your safety." "How did you find out about that? The police in Atlanta didn't seem to have a lot of interest in the break in since nothing was taken." "The report was picked up by our crime watch intelligence people in DC, and it's because nothing was taken that makes me very suspicious. I wish you would reconsider." "My answer's still the same. I'll see you tomorrow, Agent Portillo." Wyatt had never run with me before. I didn't know what to expect, but it turned out he was a natural jogger. He quickly fell into a rhythm with me and seemed to have no trouble maintaining the pace. We made a full circuit around the lake. We showered again . . . separately, grabbed a few things from my kitchen, and headed back over to Wyatt's place to start dinner preparations. The menu that night was spaghetti with sausage, mushrooms, peppers, and onions in tomato sauce. Wyatt cooked up the sauce while I fixed garlic bread and a very large salad. When the guys showed up in the late afternoon, I noticed that Jack was limping on his right foot. "What happened?" "I stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle." "Let me see." I examined his swollen ankle. It moved freely. I couldn't feel anything out of place. It was just a sprain. I told him to expect to be hobbling around for a couple of days, maybe as long as a week. "I'll survive. It's not the first time I've sprained my ankle. By the way, I know you and Wyatt have been working on dinner, but my mom really wants me and Morgan to have dinner with them tonight. Is that okay?" "It's okay with me. What we don't eat tonight, we'll freeze and have another night. You'd better tell Wyatt." "Morgan was supposed to do that." "So you and Morgan are getting pretty tight, eh?" He blushed. "More than tight. I've never felt anything like this before." "You're being careful, right?" "We haven't done that yet, although the more I'm with Morgan the more I want to try to take him inside me. Does that make sense? I think I'm in love. Morgan says he's safe. I believe him. We've done a lot of kissing and oral stuff. We've used our fingers inside us, and we really like that, but when he's hard, I can hardly get his dick inside my mouth he's so big. I just can't imagine that thing inside my rear end." "If you take it slow and easy, you'll be surprised at what can fit up there. Just be careful. Right?" "Right." The meat sauce and spaghetti was delicious. And there was enough left for a whole other meal. After dinner, Wyatt, Nash, and I sat out by the lake and talked. When it came time to leave, Wyatt packed more of his clothes into a bag and loaded them into his vehicle. We made slow love that night. We took our time, bringing each other to the edge of climax several times before we tumbled over. It just kept getting better and better. I woke up in the middle of the night. Wyatt wasn't in the bed. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but it didn't happen. I got up and relieved my bladder. I looked out the window. My wolf was there at the edge of the woods. I realized I hadn't seen him for several days. Having Wyatt in bed with me every night had drawn my attentions and energies elsewhere. I pulled on a pair of shorts and went out into the yard. The wolf came up and sniffed carefully before allowing me to pet him between the ears. I knelt down in the moonlit grass, and the wolf licked my face and pushed his body into mine. Suddenly, the wolf stood up on alert and looked over to the edge of the woods. I was able to make out another form standing in the moon shadows. It was another wolf! My wolf walked over and touched snouts with the newcomer, then they both retreated further into the shadows. My wolf had found a lupine friend. I was happy for him, but sad at the same time. If the other wolf was a female, they would soon be getting down to the business of having cubs; and like all new fathers, my wolf wouldn't have as much free time to visit me. I went back into the house and curled up in a chair. Perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes later, Wyatt walked into the house. He was naked. When he saw me in the chair, he said, "Hey, you were asleep when I left." "Where'd you go?" "I told you I'm prone to wander around in the middle of the night. I went down to the lake and swam for a bit." I could see that his hair was still wet from the lake. "You missed the wolf." "No kidding? I didn't see him down at the lake." "Too bad. He's got a friend now. There was another wolf out there tonight. I wonder if the new one is his mate." Wyatt smiled. "What makes you think the other wolf was a female?" "I don't know. I guess I kind of hope my wolf has some companionship." "I'm sure he does. Come on, let's go back to bed. As long as we're both awake, I have a suggestion on how we could spend some time." "And just what is that suggestion?" "I think I need to have you inside me." The next morning, I was still a little tired, but Wyatt was raring to go. The man recuperated more rapidly than anyone else I knew. We had breakfast, showered, got in his SUV, and hit the road to Marquette. At the FBI office in Marquette, a nice, matronly lady expertly took a set of finger prints from both of us. We washed the ink off in the men's room and followed directions down to the motor pool area where my Pilot was parked. Agent Portillo met us there. He handed me a clipboard with a property release form on it. "Please look around your vehicle and make certain that everything is in there. The lab folks tried to put things back in the right place and clean up all the evidence of the finger printing." I looked around. Everything seemed to be there; in fact, the interior of the vehicle was cleaner than before. I signed the form on the clipboard and handed it back to Portillo. "It all looks good." "That's great. I want to try to persuade you again, Dr. Wolf, to let us put you up in a safe house." "And again, I appreciate your concern, but I'm not going to do that." "I can't change your mind?" "No." "Your choice. But please be sure to keep calling me twice a day." "I will." I had been good about contacting him. At first, our phone conversations had been short and limited to the essentials. However, the phone calls had gradually changed in tone to the point of exchanging some pleasantries and saying a little about what he or I was doing. It was about lunch time. Out of the blue, Wyatt asked Portillo if he'd have lunch with us. He seemed surprised at first, then smiled broadly and accepted the invitation. We ate at a small cafe near the FBI offices and had a very pleasant lunch. By the end of the lunch, we were on a first name basis with the handsome FBI man and knew a little of his personal history. He was thirty-three years old. He'd been born in Puerto Rico, but moved as a toddler with his family to New York City, then to Boston and Albany. He'd gone to SUNY-Albany for college, and had been recruited for the FBI right out of law school at Duke. His first posting had been in Phoenix. After that, he'd been in Detroit, and was now the Special Agent in Charge of the small branch office in Marquette. Also, by the end of our lunch, I was sure Wyatt's first reactions had been correct about Rick's sexuality . . . he played on our team. Wyatt followed me back to my house. We jogged, then took a dip in the lake. Wyatt stayed in the water longer than me. The lake water was warming up, but it was still too cold to spend much time in it for my tastes. Before starting dinner for that evening, I talked with my uncle on the phone. He said Jeremy had everything packed and ready to put in the car. They would get an early start in the morning, and try to be up at the cottage by dinner time. Dinner that night was grilled pork chops, baked potatoes, beans, salad, and rolls. Nash and Morgan ate two chops and two potatoes each! We learned that Morgan's dinner the previous night with Jack's parents had gone amazingly well. Jack reported that Morgan had thoroughly charmed Jack's mother. His father had thanked Morgan for helping Jack with his work, and had offered both Morgan and Nash jobs for the summer. I decided I'd have to call Junior Kuusisto the next day to hear his side of the story. After dinner, Wyatt and I sat at the table while the guys cleaned up the kitchen and did the dishes. I watched them move around. They worked like a well-practiced team. I also realized Jack was walking normally. "Hey, Jack, come over here for a sec." He walked over. No hint of the ankle sprain. "Your ankle's healed?" "Yeah, it was fine when I woke up this morning. Glad it wasn't as bad as you thought." "Did it bother you at all today?" "Nope." I wasn't the only one who was healing rapidly. |