At Heaven's Gate [Spirit of Sage 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove) Read online

  Aston’s attention was caught by the appearance of the blond bombshells returning to their stations at the counter. Both studiously avoided looking in Aston’s direction—for all of five seconds. Shy glances came from the one who had got scalded and the other shot angry sparks. Aston bit back a smile. The feisty one was funny and didn’t appear scared of Aston at all. The shy one made Aston feel like he needed to step up his game and not act like an asshole. They were both beautiful.

  “My good friend David has been looking for someone who can work on all kinds of vehicles, including motorcycles,” John said, bringing Aston’s gaze back to him. “If you like I can call him, see if he’s fixed up yet.”

  Aston stared, stunned at the offer of help. He narrowed his eyes, trying to find the catch, but was unable to see one.

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” John added, shrugging as if he couldn’t care less what Aston did. “If you want me to make the call, let me know.” The big guy got to his feet, winked, then turned to leave.

  “John,” Aston said gruffly. John turned back and tilted his head. Aston nodded once, and John smiled.

  “I’ll make the call,” the Brit said, smiling, and went back to work.

  A moment later a waiter with longish, light brown hair appeared to remove Aston’s empty plate. He gave Aston a shy smile, his nose twitching a little as though sniffing Aston. “Jaguar,” Aston said in response to the unasked question in the man’s eyes.

  “Ethan,” the guy replied with an embarrassed grin. “Sorry, I was curious, that’s all. There’s a couple of my friends here who can tell what type of shifter a person is just by smelling them. I guess I don’t have the gift.”

  Aston gave his name in return, tilting his head curiously when Ethan just stood there, not leaving straight away.

  “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t ask, but did you happen to see any wolverine shifters in San Quentin? Guards or inmates?” Ethan asked, glancing warily at the balcony that led to an upper level at the opposite end of the café. A sign advertising a tattoo parlor stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to the first floor.

  “There were a few,” Aston admitted, wondering where the questions were heading. “Why?”

  “My mates have been harassed by their families, and we’ve had problems with members of their clans coming here and trying to cause trouble. They want to create a divisive shifter community. Gave us some trouble a little while ago, and we don’t think they’re done with us yet.” Ethan turned his head back around to face Aston, hazel eyes locking with the big shifter’s. “Some of my mates’ family were sent to San Quentin, cousins of theirs, and I was curious. That’s all.”

  Aston eyed Ethan knowingly. “The wolverines are all housed in one block, segregated now from the main population,” Aston said, seeing relief and further curiosity in Ethan’s eyes. “They tried to overthrow the prison several months ago, but the feline shifters took care of it. There are cliques inside, and felines tend to stick together, as do the canine breeds. Then there’s the various human gangs, Latinos and blacks and neo-Nazi types. It’s just one big happy tribal party.” Aston glanced at the balcony and spied four heads peering over, looking straight at him and Ethan. One guy had a shaved head with a small ponytail protruding from the back of his scalp dyed a neon green. Another had red-tipped spiky hair all over his head. A third had a long warrior’s tail dipped in iridescent blue, and his head was shaved on the sides and sported tattoos. The last guy displayed a magnificent Mohawk in rainbow hues that quivered like a peacock tail with each move of his head. Like his friend with the warrior’s plait, his head was shaved on both sides and he wore a couple of impressive tattoos there, too.

  Choosing his words carefully, Aston went with instinct and figured the guys upstairs were Ethan’s mates. Aston had met enough wolverine shifters to note their demeanor—tough as nails and looking badass as hell.

  “Your mates’ family didn’t escape, nobody left the prison, but they’re now all in a secure wing, which may be a problem. Separated, they have no power. As a unit? If they don’t kill each other with petty squabbles, it’s possible they could control the entire prison if they chose to. Plenty of guards in that place are canine breeds or wolverine clan. They don’t much care for other species.

  John came wandering back over, his eyes alert, showing a keen intelligence. “We have some connections in there,” he said, glancing at the four shifters on the balcony and gesturing for them to come down. “I suppose you’ve realized we have our own wolverine clan in town.”

  Aston nodded. “I figured that, once Ethan started asking questions,” he said, nodding at the stairs. He eyed the four shifters who were coming down warily. In his experience, wolverines were fierce, aggressive, and prone to acts of vicious rage at the slightest provocation.

  “They’re reformed,” Ethan said with a quick grin. Aston gave him a look of surprise and realized he hadn’t hidden his emotions as well as he’d hoped. He must be getting soft.

  “Oh yeah?” Aston retorted sardonically, smirking a little.

  “Yeah,” Ethan shot back, his smile widening. “They just needed a little loving,” he said smugly, his hazel eyes shining wickedly as he waggled his brows teasingly. Then he nodded at the twin blonds behind the counter who were listening to the conversation with interest. “Being loved by your mates is the best thing ever. You should try it some time,” Ethan added in a stage whisper.

  Aston sent Kieran and Kevin a slightly startled look, then met Ethan’s gaze again. “Those two aren’t my mates,” he answered, frowning slightly. “I’d know it if they were, wouldn’t I?”

  “Sweetie, try to deny it all you want, but you’ve been looking back,” Ethan said cryptically, patting Aston’s arm gently. “Those two are a handful, but I’m sure you’d be up to the challenge. Why don’t you try them on for size?”

  A tattooed arm came around Ethan’s waist, dragging him back against the compact, muscular frame of one of his mates. The guy was bald-headed, except for his little ponytail, and he nuzzled Ethan’s neck, kissing it softly.

  “Quit trying to match make,” the man said, turning Ethan’s face to his and planting a hard kiss on his mate’s lips. “The twin terrors certainly don’t need you to organize their social schedule.”

  “Hey!” one of the twins said indignantly—the feisty one with the attitude a mile wide. “I’ll have you know me and Kieran are the souls of propriety,” he added, smirking at the wolverine. “Unlike you and your boys, Kieran and I like a little variety before we decide to settle down.”

  Aston felt a twinge of disappointment at the declaration and briefly met the younger men’s eyes before getting to his feet. Turning away from them, he held out his hand to John and shook it firmly. “Thanks for the food and coffee,” Aston said with a slight smile. “I’ll wander over to the garage and see if they’re still hiring. Don’t bother about phoning first. It’s probably best if I just go a meet them on my own merit.” Then he nodded at Ethan and the wolverines and headed out of the café, not looking back.

  * * * *

  Kieran clouted his brother across the ear, daring him to complain. He needn’t have worried. Kevin was looking as downcast as Kieran felt.

  “Congratulations, gentlemen,” John said with gentle sarcasm. “If Aston really is your mate, be grateful he’s only heading across town for work, not the county line.” John rolled his eyes at the repentant pair. “You as good as told the poor guy you’re serial daters.”

  Kieran gave his brother another whack for good measure, earning him a satisfyingly loud yelp in response. “I think I’ll just go and make amends,” he said haughtily, then headed out the door with a final glare at his twin.

  * * * *

  Aston tensed as he heard running footsteps following him barely a hundred yards down the street from the café. A quick glance behind had him stopping in his tracks, then raising his eyes to the heavens. One of the little twinks from the café was approaching fast, still wearing
his little white apron. Aston’s gaze ran over the younger man, seeing the lithe stride and easy play of muscles. Clad in dark jeans and a bright orange polo shirt with black sneakers on his feet, the guy looked sexy as hell. Aston sniffed the air, scenting nerves, anger, and a healthy amount of fear.

  “Please wait,” the waiter said, stopping a couple of feet from Aston. Arching a brow, Aston waited for the guy to speak again. “I’m sorry, my brother and I didn’t mean to offend you. Kevin speaks without thinking sometimes.”

  Aston’s brow rose higher as he recalled an earlier faux pas by the man standing in front of him right now.

  “I guess we both do,” the blond said with a flush of embarrassment that tinted his cheeks deliciously, highlighting the pale green of his beautiful eyes. His shoulders slumped in defeat and he turned to leave.

  “Are you really my mates?” Aston asked curiously, despite himself. He’d been incarcerated for so long, he’d forgotten most shifter lore. It hadn’t been a great idea to discuss such matters in prison. Too many listening ears belonging to people with grudges and homicidal tendencies.

  The blond turned back, eyes wide. “I’m not sure,” he replied, flushing again. “Kevin and I were just children when the cult took us, so we don’t really know all the stuff we’re supposed to know. We haven’t met anyone who’s taken our interest like you have.” His gaze met Aston’s bravely. “We’re not sluts, you know. We’ve dated a few times, but haven’t followed through, if you know what I mean. We always said that when we met a guy who ticked all the boxes for both of us, that would be the one for us.” Suddenly a big grin split his face. “We have so many fantasies about tag-teaming.”

  Aston felt a jolt of pure lust shoot through his nervous system, straight to his groin. It had been years since he’d felt strongly enough for anyone to even kiss, let alone fuck. The last person he’d let down his guard for had been killed in a gang riot. It had hurt too much to try anything a second time. Fucking in prison was a game of chance at best. Aston had kept his back to the wall and his guard firmly in place. This young shifter was someone who oozed a refreshing innocence mixed with intriguing dashes of sexy innuendo.

  Acting on instinct, Aston reached out slowly, wrapping his big hand around the back of the twink’s neck, dragging him closer. He watched as the blond’s eyes widened in surprise, lips parting a little, the smile fading a little as lust took over. In the next second, Aston’s mouth tasted that beautiful smile, and his tongue savored it languidly.

  He heard a soft moan, keeping his eyes open to see blond lashes flutter closed. Kieran gripped his biceps, clutching at him with surprising strength. Aston’s jaguar yowled fiercely, urging Aston to take the kiss deeper. It wanted more. Obligingly, Aston complied, his arms wrapping around Kieran’s slim waist and dragging the man against him, rubbing his groin against the front of Kieran’s, feeling both their cocks harden responsively.

  Kieran’s legs suddenly lifted, wrapping around Aston’s waist. His lips were hungry on Aston’s, returning the kiss full force. Kieran clung like a limpet, his hands now gripping Aston’s shoulders, their tongues sliding together playfully. Aston growled deep in his throat, feeling his control waning fast, and pulled back before he fucked Kieran right there on the sidewalk in full view of the entire town.

  A long, low wolf whistle reached Aston’s ears. Aston just knew it was John, and he groaned in dismay.

  “We have a very nice bed and breakfast in town if you’d like to get a room,” the guy said with a grin, which was wiped away in an instant. Aston figured it was because his parents had once owned the local bed and breakfast.

  He dragged his lips away from the temptation that was Kieran, breathing hard. He kept Kieran against him, sending John a droll look. “Thanks for the kind invitation, John, but if Kieran and I need help, we’ll ask for it.” He smiled a little to show there were no hard feelings and looked beyond John’s tall frame to see Kevin staring at his brother wrapped in Aston’s arms, looking wistful and yearning at the same time.

  “I need to go,” Aston whispered softly, stroking Kieran’s back gently. He smiled when he heard the whimper of protest in response and watched as Kieran opened his eyes, which were now dazed with lust and disappointment.

  “Don’t go,” Kieran pleaded.

  “I have to go find a job, otherwise how will I be able to take you and your troublesome twin out on a date?” Aston asked, swiping his tongue along the moist crease of Kieran’s kiss-swollen lips.

  Kieran’s eyes widened, then he let out a loud yell that startled Aston so much he nearly dropped the sexy bundle in his arms. Planting a swift, hard kiss to Aston’s mouth, Kieran hopped off Aston’s engorged dick, which he’d been using pretty much as a seat, and leaped to the ground.

  “Date night!” Kieran squealed excitedly, bouncing in place.

  Aston rolled his eyes, catching John’s amused grin, and backed away from the excitable twink. Just his luck his cat was interested, after all these years, in two guys who just might be crazy.

  “Where are you staying?” John called, wearing a suspiciously innocent look on his face.

  Aston narrowed his eyes at the guy. “Just outside of town,” Aston replied succinctly, not admitting that he’d just shift into cat form and find a nice branch to curl up on for the night.

  “There’s a hostel just up the street, heading east, not far from the garage,” John said, smirking as though he had read Aston’s mind. “My good friend Chester and his two friends Simeon and Curt built it last year to accommodate some of the shifter kids from the ranch. The kids had to stay put when we got a visit from some unsavory characters of the wolverine variety, so it’s now a place for people who are homeless to go until they get themselves straight.” John nodded in a friendly manner, then corralled Kevin back to work, saying something quietly that had a wide grin gathering strength on Kevin’s face. The feisty blond winked salaciously at Aston, then ducked back into the café.

  “What just happened?” Aston asked, mostly to himself, nearly forgetting Kieran was standing close by.

  Kieran grinned back. “Sweetie, you just found heaven, that’s what,” he said, then jogged back to Café Anglais with long strides. Aston groaned to himself, adjusting his aching cock as he watched Kieran’s tight little ass bobbing up and down and then disappear from sight.

  He looked up at the heavens, sighed, and tried to think of something else so his cock would deflate more quickly. At this rate, he’d be arrested for public indecency.

  Then he thought about what Kieran had said. Finding heaven was about right. Aston had spent twenty-five years in hell, first in juvie, then transferring to the big boys’ prison at eighteen. He’d been a child when he’d ended up behind bars, fighting for his life at every turn, inside a manmade hell. If sexy blond twins were what heaven was all about, Aston would embrace it. He began walking along the street, wondering with a twinge of alarm and excitement whether sexy blond twins might be more than he could handle. He smiled. If Kevin kissed half as well as his brother, Aston’s every prayer had just been answered. He figured he was standing at heaven’s gate just then and he couldn’t wait to see what paradise had to offer.

  Chapter Two

  Four weeks later, Aston was up to his armpits in spark plugs and carburetors and still hadn’t gotten around to a date with a couple of blond minxes who made sure to stop by every day at lunchtime, bringing him a selection of mouth-watering pastries, sandwiches, and an equal amount of sass.

  Familiar footsteps sounded, and sure enough Aston’s jaguar yowled excitedly. He finished tightening up the last nuts and bolts before turning to see Kevin and Kieran standing together wearing their familiar dark jeans, orange polo shirts, and aprons. Aston’s cock reacted predictably, tenting the front of his dirty jeans, which caused two pairs of matching green eyes to zero in hungrily on his obvious arousal.

  Kevin had been remarkably restrained for the past few weeks, merely exchanging polite words of greeting and good-bye when dropping o
ff Aston’s lunch, as well as the occasional suggestive remark. Today, he had a decidedly naughty expression in his eyes.

  “Hey, Aston. We decided that since you’ve been too shy to come and get us, we’d come and get you.” Kevin winked, his smile sultry and full of wicked promise.

  “We brought you dinner,” Kieran said, holding up a large picnic hamper and swinging it gently back and forth. “If you want, we could eat in the park since it’s such a nice evening.”

  “Or we could go back to our place and eat it there,” Kevin added. “We have a large screen television, comfortable couches, and hot and cold running water.”

  Kieran shot his brother a dry look. “Hot and cold running water?” he said sarcastically. “Really?”

  Kevin shrugged, flushing delightfully. “I corpsed,” he admitted ruefully, sending Aston a sheepish glance.

  “I’d like to have dinner with you,” Aston said, wiping his oily hands on a rag. “The park sounds good, if that’s okay with you two. Then maybe we could head back to your place later for a nightcap.”

  The twins exchanged glances, and Aston flushed as they then zeroed in on him, moving closer with slow, easy strides.

  “We’d like that,” Kieran replied softly.

  “I want a kiss,” Kevin blurted out, then blushed, closing his eyes as though mortified.

  Aston smiled, tilting his head as he studied Kevin before stepping closer, cupping Kevin’s neck gently, and then placing a warm kiss on Kevin’s tempting lips. Kevin let out a low moan, opening slightly for Aston, which the bigger shifter took as an invitation to deepen the hot caress. He slid his tongue inside Kevin’s seductive mouth and took a long, slow taste of the sexy imp. It wasn’t enough. Aston knew it was certainly not enough. He had thought of these two minxes for weeks but had tried to deny to himself that they were as addictive as he’d imagined. He’d been wrong. They were like pure sunshine, zinging through his veins, warming him and lighting up his soul until he ached with want.