Primal (Wrong Side of the Tracks 2)

A compliment. Yes, he could do that.

“And what does he think about my den?” Jag asked, swallowing the dryness in his throat. He didn’t like to disclose the place where he slept, even to members of his group, but he’d made an exception so Shane could photograph his dwelling and present it to potential mates. He couldn’t believe it was happening. A man from beyond the tall fence surrounding Frank’s junkyard had agreed to share a meal with him. That had to count for something, as you didn’t do those things with just anyone.

“Yeah, yeah, I did tell him you know how to build a house,” Shane muttered, slowing to take a turn down a street lit with so much color it looked as if the night sky had fallen during a firework show.

“You need to convince him to see your den first,” Dex said, squeezing Jag’s shoulder with a wide smile.

Jag frowned, but Dex went on before he could have asked, “You need to make him feel real good. Like… give it to him nice and hard.”

“Whoa, don’t get ahead of yourself,” Shane said from behind the wheel.

Jag frowned. “I know what to do.” He’d seen a few people mate and understood how it happened with any other animal. There was nothing complicated about it.

Dex wiggled his eyebrows and pulled out his phone. “I’ll show you this one position that’s sure to blow his mind.”

“You don’t know him,” Jag protested.

Shane sighed. “Best get to know him first, okay? You aren’t used to meeting new people, Jag.”

That much was painfully obvious to Jag when he glanced at the street filled with people eager to enjoy this May evening. He’d spent most of his life in a community that had counted thirty at its peak, and had seen strangers at quarterly markets. And while he had traveled for months before settling in Frank’s territory, avoiding large human settlements had been at the top of his agenda.

Crowds not only posed countless threats, but also provided an opportunity for any assailants to hide in plain sight, but the strangers flooding the town seemed to have no care in the world. A man in a bright blue outfit and a sparkly silver hat caught Jag’s attention, and he found himself pressing close to the side window to follow the movement of boots striped with the colors of the rainbow. A bird of paradise, lost in an asphalt forest.

“Here it is.” Dex pulled on Jag’s arm, taking his attention off the shiny stranger, and when Jag turned to look at the phone shoved in his face, shock took his voice away.

In the screen of the tiny device his friends carried on them at all times as if it were a life-saving weapon, two men were ferociously mating on a black leather sofa. One lay on the seat with his hips elevated on the armrest while the alpha held him in place and pushed between his legs at a pace that had Jag’s balls throbbing with excitement.

The man taking on the role of the female writhed under the onslaught of thrusts, playing with his hard cock and moaning, as if he were trying to call upon others to deposit their seed inside him too. May the best man for the job win his affection.

Jag grabbed the phone, intoxicated by details he’d never seen up close. The sight of a thick cock pushing into the other man's stretched hole bore into Jag's brain like a drill made of pure arousal. Saliva pooled in his mouth as if he were getting hungry, but the moment he touched the smooth plastic screen, the video slipped from under his finger and disappeared.

“Bring it back!” Jag complained to Dex.

“Stop showing him porn! You’ll fuck up his expectations,” Shane roared from the front seat.

“Haven’t we all started out by watching porn?” Dex protested, and when he tapped something on the phone, more images of different naked men appeared on the screen, sending Jag’s mind and body into a frenzy.

“Yeah, but we weren’t raised by a wolf pack.”

“It wasn’t a wolf pack! We knew we were human.” Jag groaned, following the phone in Dex’s hand when the screen went dark.

Dex shrugged and moved to his side of the back seat, leaving Jag in a painfully lustful mood. “See? It’s all good. I’m just educating him.”

“You’re the last person who should be educating anyone about anything,” Shane complained but pulled into a large clearing between buildings, which people used to park their vehicles.

Dex laughed, and when he threw back his head, the black-and-white mouth tattooed on his neck opened as if it were about to swallow Shane’s head. “You’re just jealous I’m getting more dick.”

Shane shook his head and maneuvered the car into an empty space that made Jag feel unpleasantly trapped by the trucks parked on either side. “It’s not about numbers but quality. Grow up.”