Page 30 of Were-Geeks Save a Kitten

“I’ve wanted you ever since.”

“Because I spouted some bitter—”

“Because you have a wisdom that nobody else seems to see. It guides your life and, damn it, is so quietly impressive that I’ve followed your career, read every single mission report about you, and...” He shrugged. “I’ve been stalkery crazy about you.”

Wow. “I didn’t know.”

Worse, he didn’t know what to do about it. It felt vulnerable to be so seen by this man. Everyone tended to dismiss him as a quiet jarhead. Himself included. But in the quiet of the dark nights, Yordan thought about this kind of stuff. About what every living creature brought to the planet. About how he was here to protect the weaker ones, the ones who made art, the ones who had families, the ones who led nations, as well as the ones who took care of sick kids. He was here to protect them.

But he was also here to protect the assholes. It wasn’t his job to judge what they did with their power. It was his job to protect them until they figured it out. And sometimes, he got full of himself, and he lectured new puppies.

“I, um, I don’t know what to say,” Yordan said.

“You don’t have to say or do anything. I kind of sprung this on you.”

Maybe. Maybe not. After all, he’d followed McNabb’s career, too. He’d heard about The Scot’s missions and strong leadership style. That was why he’d been so disappointed when the guy had turned coward and moved into management.

How idiotic that thought was now. First, the guy wasn’t a coward. No man turned himself into a kitten just to distract a panther that could have easily eaten him. Second, he’d seen all of McNabb’s emails. Shit, the guy juggled a ton. Management was not a coward’s way out of responsibility.

Besides, if Yordan’s werewolf had suddenly turned into a tiny kitten, then he’d be the first to demand a transfer out of his combat pack. A fluffball could not pull his weight in a combat pack, no matter how cute.

“I shouldn’t have called you a coward. I shouldn’t have even thought it.”

“You aren’t the only one.” McNabb shrugged. “Maybe I shouldn’t have hidden my, um, feline affliction.”

Yordan grinned and thunked himself on the forehead. “Kit. Your name is Kit. Oh my god, that’s funny.”

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up.”

The banter had lightened the mood, but they were still two naked men pressed together on the bed. Not full flush, but enough that their bodies brushed erotically against each other with every chuckle.

It didn’t take long for hunger to thicken the air. And parts that were not rock hard.

“I’m not going to touch you, Yordan,” Kit said, his voice husky. “But if you want to...” He cleared his throat. “If you want something with me, then I’m all in. No pressure. And no career repercussions, I swear.”

That was like spreading out a banquet in front of a suddenly hungry wolf. Yordan felt himself respond body and soul.

“Anything I want with you. This night only?”

Kit’s chin jerked down. “No questions asked. I’m saying yes.”

Yordan grinned. This night, this second, he couldn’t think beyond that anyway. But before he indulged half the things in his mind right then, he had a few things that needed to be said.

“Oh, there are going to be questions,” he growled as he levered himself up on one elbow. “First, I’m clean. You?”

“Yes.” The word came out strangled as Kit understood what was about to happen.

“Good. Second question, do you like it rough?”

The Scot grinned. “Oh aye, laddie,” he drawled in his best brogue.

Damn, that turned Yordan on.

“Me too.”

Then Kit held up a hand. “Third, there are condoms in the bathroom. We should use them.”

Yordan frowned. “Since when?”