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Yordan had never had a pet, even before he was part of Wulf, Inc. And if he had lived in one place long enough to get one, it wouldn’t have been a rumbly kitten with ears that looked broken. Yet he couldn’t deny the visceral joy of stirring awake to the feel of a fluffball curled up against his chest. He was a side sleeper—usually naked—and the feel of that ultrasoft fur against his chest was almost as delightful as the low, purring motor that was The Scot.
Lord, he’d never woken with such a deep contentment before, and he found himself scratching the kitten behind the ears before he truly remembered it was his boss.
And then he watched in delight as the big, bad Scotsman stretched out his tiny little paws with needle-sharp claws and wriggled like a powder puff of cuteness. Yordan couldn’t help but chuckle. He was already tickling the kitten under his chin, the furball motor purring with pleasure.
All shifters did that to one extent or another. Just as they woke, they were often more animal than human, and you could catch grown men squirming ecstatically with their backs in the dirt or tiny kittens purring right before a jaw-cracking yawn.
Then McNabb woke up.
He froze in mid-yawn, half choking as he snapped his jaw shut. Then he hopped up onto all four paws, his adorable mismatched eyes blinking with fury at being caught being so cute.
“It’s okay,” Yordan said with a laugh. “I don’t really want people to know that I snuggled a kitten in my sleep either.”
The Scot dropped down on his butt as he stared at Yordan. There was a question in his gaze, though he didn’t make a sound, and Yordan glanced to the bedside table.
“It’s a little after three a.m.” They’d fallen asleep about six p.m., so that made sense. “We both needed the sleep. You feel up to shifting?”
The Scot hopped back up to all four paws, then frowned hard. It was adorable for about a half second. Then the kitten was surrounded in a bright glow, the air got suddenly chilly enough for Yordan’s nipples to tighten, and then bam, there was a full-grown Scotsman about to tumble off the side of the bed.
Oh shit!
Yordan reacted without thought, grabbing the guy and hauling him back onto the bed until he had a naked Scotsman sprawled sideways and face up on his chest. And not too surprisingly, little Yordan perked up in interest.
Even worse was the smell of the man. Something feline and masculine that should have repulsed Yordan, but instead had him inhaling deeply as one of his hands tightened around McNabb’s thick bicep.
Wow, The Scot was big. And sexy. And little Yordan was ready to rumble.
“Oh shit,” McNabb murmured as he tried to readjust. His voice was husky in that just woken-up way (or just shifted to human way), and Yordan didn’t want to let him go.
He did, of course, while sliding over to the side to give Kit more room on the bed. The resulting maneuvering had Yordan’s heart racing and his dick throbbing.
And then their gazes locked. There was no mistaking the expansion of McNabb’s nostrils as he, too, inhaled. His eyes went hungry, and his lips curled back as he locked on Yordan.
The hunger was obvious—in both of them—but a smart man would think about this. A smart man would not fuck his boss’s boss. And right now, Yordan was trying to be a smart man.
He swallowed. “You had a bet with Coffee,” he rasped out. “I saw it in the spreadsheet.”
“Yeah,” McNabb answered. “I think it’s why I turn into a kitten now.”
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.
