Ensnared

Chapter 2

The click of high heels, then a pause. A quick zip and then a swish, followed by a long electric beeeep. Seth knows all the sounds by now. Whenever he checks in at a hotel, he always gets two keycards, usually accompanied by The Look from the desk clerk. Hotel staff are used to wrestlers hooking up with locals, so the clerks generally assume the second key is for Seth to hand out to some lucky fan plucked out of the crowd by a security guard, but he hasn't done that in years. Now it goes to Sasha for convenience's sake.

He also knows what he hasn't heard. That distinctive laugh. The low, almost sardonic voice. Becky isn't joining them. Again.

"Hey." Sasha's voice is low but light as she ducks into the room, shutting the door behind her. He always leaves the entry table clear for her so all her things can stay together; they've had too many close calls not to be prepared. She sets the keycard on the table—they're off to another city tomorrow, so she won't need it again—and then her purse as she slides off her heels. Her dress drops to the floor in a second, making Seth think of how quickly she can turn from woman to wolf; this transformation isn't much different, going from friend to lover in the space of a breath.

Then she's on the bed, straddling his thighs, but he catches her hands before they can pull the sheet down. "No Becky?" If he asked any other lover why another woman wasn't there, it would probably earn him a slap to the face, but he knows Sasha understands. She wants it as much as he does, for their little pack to be more than just full-moon nights and shared runs.

Sasha shakes her head, sending her hair tumbling over her shoulders. "I tried." She runs her hands up Seth's chest as she leans down to kiss him, and he catches hints of Becky's scent in her hair, on her neck. "I always do."

Wrapping his arms around Sasha, Seth nuzzles her neck. There's something about the way her scent combines with Becky's that both drives him crazy and makes him calm all at once. "I know." He doesn't understand any of it, but he knows. When he and Sasha first discovered each other's true natures, they could hardly keep their hands off each other, so when Becky arrived at NXT and Sasha told him that she was a werewolf as well, he expected much the same. They're incredible friends—probably even closer than he and Sasha are, now—but aside from a few curious looks, Becky's never given any indication of wanting to take things further. "I just wish I knew why. Have I . . . upset her or something?"

"Why don't you ask her?" Since Sasha's hands are pushing the sheet down and she's pressing herself right against his cock—warm and wet and he can't help but wonder if Becky's scent is there too—it takes him a moment to realize the emphasis in the question isn't where she normally puts it. This is as much a part of their routine as the sex is, in a way.

"Because. . . ." Seth grabs Sasha's ass with both hands to slow her down. "Because if I'm the problem, then I'm the last person she'll want to talk to about it." He catches Sasha's mouth in a long kiss, but it feels strangely fleeting; both their minds are elsewhere.

"And maybe you're the only person she needs to talk to about it." Sasha breaks off the kiss with a small sigh, reaching down between them. Their bodies fit together so naturally now that it doesn't surprise Seth how easily she grabs his cock and settles down on it. "It'll mean more if she hears it from you," Sasha adds. "From me, it just sounds like her bestie trying to include her, you know? Making sure she doesn't feel left out."

Seth manages a small laugh. Sex is such a reflexive, almost instinctual thing for them now that unless it's a full-moon night or they're delving deep into their kinks, they can have a conversation almost all the way through. He thought it was weird at first and wondered if Sasha was getting bored with him, but he eventually learned to see it as a compliment. "We're talking about sex, Sash, not going to a movie or out for drinks. . . ."