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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?”
“Nero made me do it a few years back. Puppies will be puppies, and safe is better than sorry.” He winked at Yordan. “I’ll get them.”
Kit rolled off the bed, landing on his toes like a cat. A big, sleek, Scottish killer cat. Yordan admired his cut form, his tight buttocks and broad shoulders, not to mention the hard, thick thrust of his cock. The Scot wasn’t quite as tall as Yordan, but he made up for it in compact power. Plus, he had a grace that Yordan would never achieve.
Kit found the condoms quickly, but while he was gone, Yordan arranged himself on the bed for maximum effect. He lay on his side, one knee up with his cock thick and heavy, thrusting forward. He was probably grinning as he imagined just what he was going to do to his boss’s boss. And he arched a brow in challenge when McNabb slowed his steps as he approached the bed.
“Now that’s a bonnie sight.”
“Okay, kitty cat,” Yordan growled. “Given that you’ve put me in charge, here’s what you’re going to do.”
McNabb’s cock bobbed at that, and his expression lifted into a delighted grin. Of course, his words belied that.
“Oh really?” he challenged. “And what am I going to do? Be exact.”
“You’re going to put that condom on me, and then you’re going to return to that kitty cat position right on the bed. You’re going to be on all fours while I mount you like the dog I am. What do you think of that, pussy cat?”
He didn’t have to ask. He could see the come pearling on the end of McNabb’s cock. The man wanted it as much as Yordan did.
Yordan arched a brow. “What are you waiting for?”
