Chapter Three

Storm

T he set reeked of magic, like it always did when Tristan cast his illusions. Two mages in one place were too many as far as Storm’s nose was concerned.

He walked over to where the director, Brandt, was standing with Ryder and eyed up his new co-star along the way. Storm had to admit that he was hot for a mage. Although not much shorter than Storm, he looked almost petite next to Brandt’s massive grizzly shifter frame. His black hair fell in waves that brushed his shoulders, setting off his golden tan skin and the sharp angles of his features. His gray eyes were framed by thick, well-shaped brows, and his lips were full and pouty enough that Storm was already imagining them wrapped around his cock. Wardrobe had dressed Ryder in charcoal slacks and a white-collared shirt that had seen better days, but still managed to highlight the lean lines of his body—a more subtle, refined style than the skintight, threadbare t-shirt and jeans they’d given Storm to wear.

“Storm,” he said, holding out his hand when he reached them. Normally he avoided touching mages to keep the scent of their magic off his skin, but considering everything he was about to do to Ryder, shaking hands was the least of his worries.

“Ryder.” He slipped his hand into Storm’s.

The moment their skin touched, magic buzzed against Storm’s palm, and he inhaled sharply, catching a hint of Ryder’s scent under the more familiar stench of Tristan’s magic.

Ryder’s eyes narrowed, and he frowned at their hands before glancing up at Storm, confusion written in the furrow of his brow.

They released their grip, but the tingle of magic remained on Storm’s skin. Huh. He’d never felt anything like that before. It wasn’t unpleasant though. Magic prickled along his palm. He flexed his fingers and noticed Ryder doing the same.

“If you’ve memorized your parts,” Brandt said, “let’s start the interview.”

Rhys, their main cameraman, filmed them as Brandt asked them questions—a few standard ones about how excited they were to film their first scene together and a number that had been submitted by fans in MateHub’s official forum.

“The fans have been requesting you two do a scene for months. Have you seen the song lyrics they wrote for you?”

“I thought them changing the original lyric to ‘like a shifter about to bone’ was particularly inspired,” Ryder said.

Storm repressed a snort. That was one word for it. “The creativity of MateHub fans truly knows no bounds.”

Ryder chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I’ve always been impressed by the MateHub forum anniversary celebration. The games they invent.” He shook his head. “Like ‘Whose Dick Is This?’ I’ve sucked half those dicks and couldn’t tell you who is who when the image is so tightly cropped, but the fans immediately recognize them and can usually guess which scene they’re from.”

That wasn’t even the craziest game they played.

“I can’t get over that interactive constellation map they made to show who has done scenes with whom and how many of them.”

“Oh man.” Ryder grinned at him. “I lost a few hours of my life to that thing, clicking on names to see who they were connected to. Your Taken by Storm series got you quite a few connections.”

“And they’ll need to add another after this.” Storm leered at Ryder. For the cameras. Mainly. Ryder smirked back.

“Perfect,” Brandt said. “That’s a great note to end on. Let’s get to the establishing shots.”

As they walked toward their marks on set, Ryder’s expression grew sly. “Okay, real talk. I love the fans, but they can get intense.”

“Are you saying the fan art of our cocks isn’t normal?” Storm asked, deadpan.

“I mean, who wouldn’t want to live in a world where strangers on the internet spend their free time lovingly drawing highly accurate depictions of their genitalia?”

“That is a question I ask myself daily.”

“Truthfully, though? MateHub fans are the best, even with their terrifyingly encyclopedic knowledge of every MateHub scene ever.”

There was no doubt about that in Storm’s mind. “You’ve gotta appreciate the fact that, unlike some other fans, they’ve never rioted when their favorite doesn’t come first.”

Ryder huffed out a laugh, then froze, side-eyeing Storm. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but Brandt interrupted.

“Okay, Storm, Ryder, remember you’re straight, broke, and desperate for this job. Let’s get this setup filmed.”

Ah, yes. The part most viewers wouldn’t bother watching.

Storm was playing a down-on-his-luck construction worker who’d answered a classified ad looking for mattress testers. A totally straight, absolutely heterosexual, one hundred percent normie breeder who had never in his life considered the possibility of sex with another man. Because he was straight. So very straight. The straightest of straights.

Storm couldn’t relate, but then, that was why MateHub paid him as much as they did. His acting skills. Well, that, and his cock. He was willing to acknowledge the latter was more impressive than the former.

MateHub had hired Kodiak Timber to do a cameo as their supervisor. They’d decked the bear shifter out in a white lab coat, and he held a clipboard to record whatever vital data one obtained from observing two people vigorously… testing mattresses.

The setup involved Kodiak greeting them for their first day at work.

“I hope you’re up for this.” The innuendo behind his words was as thick as the man himself. “It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it.”

Storm and Ryder nodded like the good little workers they were.

“Given how hard the times are, there must have been a lot of stiff competition to fill these positions,” Storm said solemnly. “But let me assure you that I will rise to the occasion and stay on top of the work you want me to do.”

“And don’t worry,” Ryder added. “No matter how big the load, I can handle whatever comes my way.”

Kodiak continued talking as he led them to the testing location. “I value employees who have the right tools for the job and can go deep, drilling down and pounding out the work. Our new beds hit the market next month, and a lot is riding on this release. It’ll be tight, but we’ve got to squeeze this in.”

“It might take all night, but I’ll give you everything you want. I’m eager to thrust myself into the job ahead.” Storm bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snickering.

Ryder shot him a glance, amusement shining in his eyes.

Ah, the beautiful poetry of MateHub scripts. Shakespeare could eat his heart out—though perhaps the heart was not the most appropriate anatomy to be eating out when it came to MateHub.

They stopped in front of the first bed.

“Well, get to it. You’ll be needing this.” Kodiak pulled a comically large bottle of lube out of the pocket of his lab coat and tossed it on the bed, where it bounced twice.

Storm screwed his face up in flustered bewilderment. “Why would we need that ?”

Kodiak shrugged. “If you want to do it dry, it’s your asses, not mine.”

“ What? ” Storm squeaked in unison with Ryder.

The look Kodiak gave them was unimpressed. “Did you honestly think we were offering you two hundred dollars an hour to… sleep ?” He snorted. “We have to ensure our beds hold up to the most strenuous of fuckings before they go on the market. They’ve got to be durable enough to handle a shifter, but also soft enough for post-knotting comfort.”

Storm’s jaw dropped. “You expect me to… to… sleep with him ? But I’m straight !” He looked at Ryder, his gaze sliding over that tight, lithe body. Fuck, he was going to be fun to play with.

“Storm.” Brandt’s booming voice barged into the scene. “You’re supposed to be straight. Try that again without eye-fucking Ryder in the process.”

Oh, right. Storm shook himself.

He repeated the line, clutching his chest in horror, then ad-libbed, “And he’s a… a man !”

The corner of Ryder’s mouth twitched.

“Well observed,” Kodiak said. “Do you want the money or not? We can call the next two applicants on our list if you don’t.”

Storm nearly chuckled at the parallels to his conversation with Daniel. Instead, he and Ryder sized each other up, grimacing as they came to the realization that, while this wasn’t the job they’d thought they’d be doing, times—and a few other things—were indeed hard, so they should probably fill any position they were being offered.

“Cut!” Brandt said. “Perfect. Let’s move on to the coin toss to decide who gets head and who gets tail.”

Ryder’s shoulders shook almost imperceptibly as he suppressed a laugh, and Storm couldn’t have agreed more. Where did the MateHub writers come up with this shit?

S torm eyed Ryder, and they both started to undress.

As he pulled his shirt over his head, Ryder’s gaze was on him, trailing over the defined muscles of his abs.

Did he like that? Storm smirked at him and popped the button on his jeans before easing his zipper down. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband to shimmy them off. Ryder wet his lips and began to unbutton his shirt, slowly, teasingly, revealing sun-kissed skin with every button.

“Cut!” Brandt yelled. “No, no, no. Straight guys do not give stripteases to other straight guys! This should be awkward! Take it from the top!”

Storm sighed and put his shirt on so he could remove it again, keeping his movements jerky and fumbling until they were standing there, naked, hands covering their dicks.

“What are you waiting for?” Kodiak’s tone was gruff and no-nonsense. “Get to work.”

Ryder hesitated. He glanced at the bed, then at Storm.

“You aren’t backing out on me now, are you?” Storm gritted out. “I need this money, man.”

“No. I just…” Ryder looked downright bashful, not meeting his eye. It was adorable. “I’ve never… you know… with someone I haven’t…”

“Someone you haven’t?”

Ryder rushed to say his next line. “Someone I haven’t kissed.”

Storm’s character, in all his extremely heterosexual wisdom, decided the most obvious solution to this problem was to kiss his coworker. As straight guys were wont to do.

One hand still covering his dick—mostly covering… okay, partially covering—Storm reached out with the other and threaded his fingers through Ryder’s long hair, then yanked him close. Their mouths met in an ungraceful clash of lips and teeth.

Storm inhaled, and Ryder’s scent flooded his senses—the flicker of lightning over water, a trace of sea salt carried by the breeze. His wolf surged forward, a rumble building in his chest. Electricity sparked on his skin, and he angled Ryder’s head to deepen the kiss, delving into his mouth. Ryder opened for him, their tongues tangling, their bodies moving closer, pressing together as they?—

“Try that again,” Brandt called out.

Storm jerked away from Ryder. They blinked owlishly at each other. That had been… unexpected. He’d never filmed with a mage who didn’t make his nose itch. Ryder’s magic hung around him, a mantle that draped over him, unseen but tangible. For once, it was a unique perfume, not the harsh reek Storm had expected. He wouldn’t even mind if this scent lingered on him after the scene.

“And no growling, Storm,” Brandt added. “Straight guys don’t growl possessively when they kiss their male coworkers!”

Storm supposed that was true.

They stepped apart, only for Storm to tug Ryder into another kiss. Their mouths crashed together, and before he could stop himself, Storm was licking at the crease of Ryder’s lips. Fuck, his wolf liked the way Ryder tasted, liked how easily Ryder welcomed him in, liked the little gasp he let out as Storm took control of the kiss, angling his head to give him perfect access to?—

“No!” Brandt sounded exasperated. “You are awkward strangers! Awkward, straight strangers. That’s what we’re aiming for in these shots. And I don’t want either of you to get any harder than you already are.”

Storm’s gaze landed on Ryder’s dick, which had perked up since they’d begun filming. His own cock pulsed at the idea of what they were about to do, at the thought of Ryder hot and hard under him, clenching around him. At this rate, his hand wouldn’t even be partially covering his dick.

Brandt sighed. “Just get this over with, or we’ll have to wait for you to cool off before we restart filming, and we can’t afford that delay.”

Right. Awkward. Storm could do that.

He pulled Ryder forward by his hair again, forcing himself to ignore his wolf’s demands as he mashed his lips against Ryder’s, no finesse or skill involved.

It’d be awkward if he cupped the back of Ryder’s head and tilted it, right? If they slotted their mouths together and teased with their tongues. If he nipped at Ryder’s lips and?—

“Cut,” Brandt said, sighing again. “Fine. That’s good enough.”

Storm knew that sigh. That was the ‘no one understands my artistic vision’ sigh, but he wasn’t going to argue with Brandt when he’d declared it was time to move on, especially considering what came next.

They had beds to test, and for the first time, Storm was looking forward to filming with a mage.