Blue Moon III: Call of the Alpha Read Online Free

him slowly, face-to-face. Are you telling me I should be ashamed?” Alpha snapped.
    “It’s not the same,” Call snapped back.
    Alpha released him and Call turned around, bumping chests with his lover. He was furious, but also confused. He knew his man was right, but he couldn’t shut off those damn feelings. He was looked at like a prince every day, all day by Alpha. But when he was around others, he was reminded of how he really looked. Alpha looked him in his eye and Call could see the disappointment evident in that dark glare.
    “The man I love is confident and strong. I deserve no less and I’ll have no less. When my beloved comes back… I’ll be back.” Alpha turned and left the shower.
    Call wanted to go after him, but his pride wouldn’t let him. After several minutes, he turned off the taps and slowly got dressed in their bedroom, listening for sounds in their home. Any sound that said Alpha was still there. He grunted with irritation because he knew the wise man was right. His mind didn’t go back to that day often, but his eyes flinched when he thought of the panicked yells of his comrades as they took enemy fire.
    Bombs went off all around them, bullets whizzed by their heads as he and his team ran for cover. He’d just pulled a gunnery sergeant to safety when his name was shouted. It was too late. The blast wave from the grenade rocketed him over fifteen feet, slamming his body into the side of a Humvee.
    Call closed his eyes tighter, not wanting to relive this. It’d been over ten years. Even though the barotrauma wreaked havoc on his lungs, ears, stomach and joints. It’d been nothing compared to the damage caused by the shrapnel fragments. Worse was he laid in a military hospital for eight months before he was stable enough to be transported stateside. It was the countless months of recovery, of him waiting for an officer to come and tell him he was no longer fit for duty and his team had been reassigned. He was awarded the Purple Heart, many officials came to his bedside, but no one said the words he dreaded hearing. He went through the surgeries, convalesced, and performed the hours upon hours of therapy. After doing everything he’d been told, he was awarded his command back. They’d told stories of his bravery and courage. He was respected in the service, his wounds were his marks of honor. But out here in the world, he was repelled; those wounds now only an embarrassment.
    Call pulled his jeans and sweater on, not wanting to continue this trip down memory lane. He came down the wooden stairs hopeful, but also knowing that Alpha wasn’t there. They should be sitting on their large, camel leather sofa watching the news together like they did every night. Discussing world-views and politics, exchanging war stories. It was the best relationship a man like him could have. Someone who wouldn’t bore him, someone who could also challenge him. The handsome assassin was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Alpha was the only one who really saw him.
    Call ignored his growling stomach and pulled some of his gear out of the closet. He was going after him. He zipped up his all-weather coat and dropped his utility knife and flashlight in the large pockets. He took his tranquilizer gun – bears were pretty prevalent in their area this time of year, preparing for torpor – his 9 mm and compact survivor kit. You just never knew what could happen in the forest. Their home sat alongside a deep-water dock. He walked down to their boathouse and saw that nothing was moved there. Alpha was out there, maybe stealthily watching him. A rush washed over him and his cock got painfully hard in his jeans.
    Call turned and surveyed the area. Large, white oak trees loomed over his head; he calmed his breathing and focused on the sounds of the night. The sounds nocturnal animals made when coming out to hunt for dinner. The rustling of the leaves and the crunching of the pine under his hiking boots. Call