Page 29 of Were-Geeks Save a Kitten

Really?

“So, can you fix it?”

“Trying to.”

What? Crouching naked on the bed next to Yordan wasn’t exactly him trying to pay off some debt.

“Um, Yordan,” The Scot said slowly. “Is that just morning wood or, um...”

“Do I want to mount you like an alpha dog and fuck your brains out?”

“Yeah.”

“The second.”

Blink. Blink. “Okay. I’d like that.”

Yordan’s dick surged enough that his hips lifted slightly off the bed. But that was all he did. He didn’t grab McNabb or leap. He didn’t even reach up to kiss the guy, though he had to curl his fingers into the sheets to keep himself still.

Then after a moment, he said, “We’re coworkers, you know.”

“It’s worse than that. I’m in your direct chain of command.” The Scot’s expression turned bleak. “This could be considered sexual harassment.”

Yordan nodded. “But I don’t feel harassed. I don’t feel forced at all.”

The Scot flashed a sexy grin. “You can be on top.” Oh hell, his brogue was back, and that never failed to feel like soft hands stroking his dick.

“I don’t want this to screw with my job. It’s not...” Fuck, it was hard to think with McNabb looking all come-hither. “There’re all sorts of reasons not to do this at work.”

The Scot didn’t disagree. His voice was light and his eyes languid as he said a cheerful, “Yup.”

“Right now, I don’t care.”

“As the supervisor, I need to care.” McNabb’s expression turned wistful. “But I’ve wanted this for so long, I don’t think I can stop you.”

It took a moment for Yordan’s brain to process that through his fog of lust. But when the words filtered in, he found himself smiling. “A long time, huh?”

The Scot adjusted himself on the bed, shifting so that their bodies were aligned, touching but not grinding. Yet.

“Do you remember the day we met?”

Yordan shook his head. They were already face-to-face, so it was easy to let his hand stroke up and down McNabb’s flank. The man flexed with the touch, and he heard a for-real purr—a very manly one—underneath his next words.

“It was after my first mission,” he said. His eyes darted to the side to indicate the lake. “Here, actually. We were already back at the mansion, and I was bragging about how badass we were. Well, how badass I was. But we were all—”

“I remember,” Yordan said. The pack had been high on their own success, halfway to drunk, and steeped in glory. Just like every puppy after a first mission. But Yordan had been back from a hard one. His pack had survived—barely—and there had been civilian casualties. He remembered getting angrier and angrier as McNabb had glorified the wrong things. Then he’d gone on to pitying the mundanes, and Yordan lost control of his temper. “I shouldn’t have reamed you out,” he said softly. “It wasn’t my place, and I was too raw from my own shit.”

The Scot shrugged, his expression too guarded to read. “You told us—well, you told me—that every soul has a power and a purpose. Obviously, we’d been given strength, but if we didn’t start looking for the power in every living soul, then we were short on smarts.”

Yordan winced. “I sound like a pompous ass.” What right had he had to piss on anyone’s first mission? They deserved the high.

“You were right. I’d never thought of it that way before. It’s so easy to glory in our abilities, but if we don’t see that other people have value and their own kind of power, then we miss the whole point of this life.” His expression grew soft. “I learned that from you, and it’s been a guiding principle of my life.”

Yordan gaped at him. “Bullshit.”

“Not shit. It took me a couple years for the truth of it to really sink in, but you planted the seed.”

Yordan shifted, uncomfortable with being seen so clearly. “I was steeped in my own shit. I shouldn’t have rained on your parade.”