Page 17 of Restoring His Howl

Chapter Seven

Dillon sat on the floor of his room and stared at the carpet. He’d been walked out on many times. He’d dealt with verbal and physical abuse from his captors. Nothing had prepared him for the gut-punch when Cinders had left. What was it about Cinders’ leaving that bothered him so much? Because Cinders seemed to truly care. Because Dillon had opened up and let himself be vulnerable, only to get a raw deal. Because he’d allowed himself to feel something. For the first time since he’d learned he could shift, his heart beat for another being, but down to his soul, he knew Cinders didn’t want him.

Dillon shook his head. He should’ve known his past and problems would be too much for Cinders. Fuck it. If he let the demons win, he’d never get anywhere. He wouldn’t heal until he decided to let go of his past. He had problems, but he had to get out of the little box he’d kept himself in to stay safe.

He stood and stripped off the sweat suit he wore. No point in wallowing in rumpled clothes. He wandered into the bathroom he shared with Oscar but didn’t bother to look for the other shifter. He turned on the water and stood in the stall. The chilly spray kick-started his senses. As the stream switched from cold to searing hot, he dragged in a long breath. The wolf had gone AWOL within him. Oh well. He’d figure out his animal later.

He added soap to the washcloth and considered his situation. Not everyone would leave him. He’d read the information Willow had brought him from a psychiatrist. He knew damn well he wasn’t worthless or invisible, despite his best attempts to stay out of sight. He could and would heal.

He widened his stance and slathered the soap over his body. The scent of the soap—something leathery—helped bring him out of his funk.

Holy hell. He’d let in Cinders and allowed him to sleep in his bed. Talk about progress! Not everyone would run away and given time, he and Cinders might find their way back to each other.

He’d gone through Willow because he’d been afraid to talk to the doctor, but he needed to see the therapist now. Maybe, if he stopped avoiding his problems, he’d get somewhere.

Dillon washed himself, suds covering his body. He closed his eyes and thought about Cinders. He wanted to run his hands over Cinders’ skin and to kiss him. He wanted to taste the sweat and look into Cinders’ eyes, the possession in those brown eyes aimed at him.

He shivered and slid his hand over his belly. He stopped when he touched the curls surrounding the base of his cock. A jolt of electricity sped through his veins. The wolf came out of hiding and to attention. The animal scratched at him and howled. It wanted out.

Dillon stroked himself. He liked being able to pleasure himself for the sheer fun of it. He cupped his balls and embraced the power within him. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Hadn’t been this free. He opened his eyes and leaned against the shower wall. He caressed every ripple and nuance of his dick.

“Oh Jesus.” Dillon rocked his hips. His skin heated. Old feelings of excitement and desire came back, but this time, he pretended Cinders was there. He fucked his hand, the suds adding slickness. Would Cinders love to watch him? Or would he dance for Dillon and strip? Knowing Cinders, he was probably one of the best strippers. The man knew how to move. He’d love to have Cinders grinding against him.

Dillon stroked faster. His wolf howled again and dug his claws into Dillon from within. The animal gnashed his teeth, and his fur stood on end. Dillon widened his stance and massaged his balls. He tightened his hold on his cock and groaned. Shit. He wouldn’t last.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Oh my fuck.” The climax washed over him, and his knees weakened. His mouth ran dry as he panted. He caressed his dick a few more times as hot cum shot onto the floor of the stall. He fought to catch his breath. The sound of the water hitting his body and the tiles echoed in the small room.

A laugh bubbled in Dillon’s throat. He’d done it. He’d gotten himself off without the cameras or the audience. He’d thought about Cinders but hadn’t needed to be the center of attention. He hadn’t been forced, and he’d masturbated out of sheer desire. Holy shit. Yeah, this was progress. He had to thank Cinders.

Dillon wobbled on his feet and rinsed off the rest of the way. Then he turned off the water and opened the stall. His problems weren’t solved. There was still a long road of healing to go, but he’d gained a little ground in the fight. He had to tell Cinders. If nothing else, maybe, this would make them friends again.

Shit. Would Cinders care? He’d run off. After everything Dillon had disclosed, Cinders might not be interested in hearing what Dillon had done. He might tell Dillon to drop dead.

He wrapped the towel around him. Double shit. He’d agreed to be a naughty cop for the party and to go as Cinders’ partner. Was the offer for the outfit and to go with him still valid? Dillon wasn’t sure. He dried off and put the towel on the rack. He’d figure out what to do once he got dressed. He couldn’t wear the sweatshirt and pants forever.

Dillon marched naked into the bedroom. He surveyed the clothes in his closet. When he escaped fromWet Dreams, he’d left all his things behind. He hadn’t even brought money. At least, at the Sanctuary, he didn’t need money. He dressed in a dark-green T-shirt and jeans then donned a pair of socks.

Cinders had said Dillon was welcome to go into his room and take the costume. No, he’d better not. He stepped into his shoes then forced himself out of his room. A guy could only make so many strides in one day, but he couldn’t stay locked up. He made his way downstairs. Ryan and Delaney were in the library with Oscar, Avan and Nat.

“Dillon.” Ryan grinned. “Nice to see you.” He and Delaney strode up to him. Nat left the room, and Avan stayed where he was with Oscar. Ryan clapped Dillon on the shoulder. “I thought you’d never come out of your room.”

“I hear the costume idea is flopping,” Delaney said. “No one has anything costume-y to wear.”

“I don’t.” Dillon shrugged. “I wanted to ask you about it.” Did he look casual? He wasn’t sure. “I just… Can I show up looking like me?” Better yet, could he show up alone or even not at all? No one would notice.

Ryan nodded. “I got a little too carried away with the idea of the party, I guess. Don’t feel pressured to dress up. Just come and have fun. We’ve got lots of food and music.”

“Avan and I are going together,” Oscar said. “Want to join us, and do a group thing?” He smiled then made his way over to Dillon. “We’d love to have you.”

Oscar’s words shouldn’t have bothered Dillon, but they did. He wasn’t sure if Oscar meant to sound so dirty.

“We can go together.” Not as if he had any other takers. “Friends, right?” He’d taken another step. Why did this step feel so awful? Because he didn’t trust Oscar. They shared a bathroom, but going to a party as friends was a bit of a stretch.

“Yeah.” Oscar blushed. “Well, bathroom buddies…’cause we share the bathroom.”

“Right.” He wasn’t sure if Oscar was fumbling because he thought he was funny or really awkward or what. He hated the way Oscar had spoken to him, but he’d never let them know about his past. He wasn’t about to tell them what he’d done in the bathroom when he’d been withWet Dreams. Not their business.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun to be a group.” Avan snorted. He leered at Dillon. “Lots of fun.”

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