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“Just wanted to see if there were any other commands.”
“Nope.”
McNabb grinned. “Good. Because it sounds like I get to take my time on the way to my ‘position.’”
Yordan arched his brows, but he didn’t have time to do anything more than that. Kit leaped onto the bed, and though he was a big man, he landed precisely atop Yordan. Suddenly, The Scot had made a cage around Yordan enough that their cocks bumped wildly together.
And while Yordan was recovering from the lightning shock of that, Kit started kissing Yordan with hungry abandon. He could feel every minute of the man’s pent-up desire. It was there in the way he gripped Yordan’s head, the way he thrust powerfully into Yordan’s mouth, and the way—in a shock that had Yordan stiffening in pleasure—he twisted Yordan’s right nipple.
“Even a kitten has claws,” Kit growled. “Tell me if it’s too rough.”
Two could play at that game, and Yordan was there scratching a nail across McNabb’s tight nubs.
“Bring it, putty tat.”
Then it was on. Nails were the least of the things they used to learn about each other’s bodies. Teeth and tongue, hands and feet. They were both strong, big men, and the wrestling they shared tore up the bed in the most pleasurable of ways.
Eventually, the condom went on. In time, Kit was down on all fours while Yordan stroked his hard cock with a grip that would have made a lesser man whimper. Not Kit, though. He arched into the stroke and spread wide when Yordan mounted.
Then they moved together. A hard thrust with a steady pull that grew wilder and hotter with each passing ecstatic second.
Tight and wet.
Strong. Hard.
He’d never timed it so well or felt more in sync with anyone.
Again and again
Yes!
When it was all done, they collapsed sideways together, lying there in ecstatic breathlessness. Yordan had never felt so good.
It was a long time before Kit stirred. When he did, it was to kiss Yordan’s nose. Or maybe it was a kittenish lick. Hard to tell. Then he leaned down and purred words that slipped straight into Yordan’s mind and down to this thickening cock.
“My turn now, puppy pie.”
CHAPTER 12
Wild Thing. You Make Me Sing
The sun was trying to burn away the lake ice when Kit finally opened his eyes. The bed was in shambles, but someone—Yordan—had thrown a blanket over him.
He stretched out stiff muscles, felt aches that made him smile, and searched for Yordan all in one long dance of muscles. Lord, he felt so good. Or he did until he found Yordan sitting across the room and frowning at the laptop in the corner.
That couldn’t be good.
“What’re ya doing over there?” he asked, too lazy to soften his brogue.
“Reading your email.”
Kit sat up fast enough that his head swam a bit. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. You said I was your understudy. I’m studying.”
True. “Okay. What’s the word in my email?”
“You’re in deep shit for wrecking the helo.”
