Morgan blinked. “All?”
“Well, maybe not all, but most.”
“At least you're calling me Morgan, and not dickhead, asshole, or fuckwad.”
“Fuckwad was mine.” Tersch beamed with pride.
Kisho shook his head. “It's a rite of passage. You come to the team, you prove yourself.”
“Hey, I've offered to prove myself, but you sensitive squids won't let me near your precious gym.” Morgan scoffed.
“Did he just call us sensitive?” Tersch growled.
“Did he just call us squids? SEALs, dickhead, not squids.” Fallon frowned. “And keep your distance from Oliva, while I'm at it.”
Kisho understood Fallon's problem. Morgan was
fine
with a capital
F
. Tall, dark, and handsome, with that bad-boy appeal that screamed danger, an aphrodisiac to most women—and Kisho as well. He'd been fighting it by keeping his distance, but just a few heartbeats away from Morgan made his body hum in a manner he'd never felt before.
Sex with men satisfied, to an extent. Sex with Circs enabled him to stave off that psychotic madness so many of his fellow friends had perished from. It provided a closeness he needed and a physical release from building tensions. But he had a feeling sex with Morgan would be unforgettable.
Kisho cleared his throat and rose, putting some distance between him and the tall drink of temptation. “Well, it's late, and I'm beat. Let's head home, and we can talk about it tomorrow.” He glanced at Morgan. “If you're so keen to get your ass handed to you, meet me in the gym tomorrow morning.”
Tersch chuckled. “Oh man, if I didn't hate mornings so much, I'd stop by to watch Hayashi kick your ass. Good luck.” He snickered and left for the SUV.
Jules and Fallon followed him, grinning ear to ear.
“Good going. Remember, we need this,”
Fallon sent him.
I
need this, Kisho thought.
Sex doesn't have to lead to forever. I know better than most that
happily ever after is a myth. Maybe if I sate this craving, it'll go away
. But thinking about it didn't settle his nerves any.
Morgan followed him to the vehicle, so closely, Kisho could feel his body heat.
He glanced over his shoulder and froze. A spark of something wild lit Morgan's eyes, turning them black in the moonlight.
Morgan bumped into him, and he stopped Kisho from falling over by gripping his waist.
Hard.
A noticeable erection pressed against Kisho's ass, and he fought for control. But he couldn't help the rumbled growl from his beast, wanting more.
“Sorry. My mistake,” Morgan murmured. “I'll try not to be so clumsy tomorrow.” As if they had never touched, as if Kisho didn't know how long and hard the man was, Morgan stepped around him and joined the others.
After a few tense breaths fought fighting his beast for control, Kisho joined them.
The next day, he left his room early and nearly ran over Morgan, who stood waiting for him in the hall. To his dismay, Morgan smelled of soap and a musk that made his head spin, a subtle scent of citrus he wanted to inhale and never let go. The ex-merc wore shorts and a short-sleeved T-shirt and seemed impervious to the chill in the air.
Morgan looked him up and down and grinned. “You know, for a man who hates compliments, you really show off the whole package nicely.” His own “package” stirred at Morgan's nearness, and the jackass smiled even wider.
“Shut up and get your ass to the gym. You need a few lessons in manners.”
“I can't wait.” They walked past Morgan's room, which irritated Kisho to no end because it was right next to his.
Mrs. Sharpe refused to bend on that detail. Needless to say, her popularity with the team had hit an all-new low.
They reached the empty gym, and Kisho said a prayer of thanks. Dealing with Morgan at all had become harder to bear, mostly because in the man's presence, Kisho wanted nothing more than to sample those firm lips and touch that smooth skin. A shade darker than his own, Morgan's tan spoke of the outdoors and fresh living. Kisho instinctively sensed that the man hadn't gained so much muscle from a gym, but from a life spent protecting himself from danger and wreaking havoc on those who deserved it, a notion Kisho's beast liked very much.
Once inside the gymnasium, the men stretched out and studied each other. Kisho had less brawn and a few inches less height, but he had a Circ's strength and instinct to back him up. He'd seen Morgan's speed, but he wondered how the man would handle himself in a fight with a Circ.
“I'm looking forward to wiping the floor with you,” Kisho growled, his mood lifting when Morgan smiled again.
“Bring it on, Kisho.”
Another thing. The man refused to call him by his last name. Only the women around here called him Kisho, as did his friends sometimes when they engaged in the more carnal aspects of being Circ.
Morgan stood tall and whipped his shirt from his body, startling Kisho from his musings.
“What the hell are you doing?” Holy shit, Morgan was ripped. Corded abs, solid pecs, and biceps bigger than his own. The thought of dominating Morgan didn't intrigue him as much as the fantasy of being dominated
by
him. Hell. He was getting hard again.
Morgan licked his lips. “I want to get bare bones with you, that's all. Man-to-man. Come on, kitsu, bring it on.”
Had he just called Kisho kitsu? Again? Before Kisho could second-guess, Morgan attacked.
His reflexes saved him, but only just. Surprised, Kisho balanced himself on the balls of his feet, his knees bent, ready. He met Morgan's next two advances, dodging and then striking out with a kick that rocked Morgan on his ass. Before Kisho could take advantage, Morgan was on his feet again.
Kisho raised a brow. “I'm trying to take it easy on you, because I know that handicap makes it difficult to fight back.”
“Handicap?” Morgan questioned between breaths. He darted in and feinted left, striking to Kisho's right. His fist grazed Kisho's waist, and Kisho couldn't help being impressed.
“Your small brain.”
Morgan laughed. “Yeah? Well, at least I'm not letting my hard-on distract me.” Kisho automatically looked down to see Morgan wasn't lying—the brawler had a large erection. He caught Morgan's fist aimed at his gut and spun the male around, so that Kisho's cock pressed against Morgan's fine ass. “Easy, Morgan. Or I'll think you don't like me.” Morgan groaned and rocked back. “If I didn't like you so much, I wouldn't be this close to coming in my damned shorts.”
With incredible speed and flexibility, Morgan somehow managed to break out of Kisho's hold and reverse his position, so that they stood chest to chest.
Morgan shifted, and his cock grazed Kisho's.
Staring into green eyes that suddenly flashed from emerald to a darker, mossy green, Kisho was unprepared for Morgan's next move. The kiss took him by surprise, and he opened his mouth to protest.
That quickly, Morgan snaked his tongue inside, and the taste of raw male and sweet orange shot Kisho's libido into overdrive.
He couldn't think as Morgan took charge of the kiss. His beast settled happily under the aggressive male, not protesting in the least, which further put Kisho under Morgan's spell. The recognition that had sparked the first time they'd touched was nothing compared to the inferno of lust and need that swamped him now.
Morgan groaned and rocked against him, rubbing that massive erection against his own.
Needs long denied rushed him, this mating act so different from the sexual desires he slaked with his teammates. This was so much more.
He drew Morgan's scent into his mouth, into his beast, and purred when Morgan ran his hands over his chest.
Morgan broke the kiss to growl, “You're cut. So fucking hot. Christ, I need you.”
He yanked Kisho's T-shirt over his head and kissed him again before Kisho could think to protest. Worry about the future, about his control, about his plans to seduce the truth from Morgan—everything faded as sheer desire overwhelmed him.
To his shock, he trembled in Morgan's hold, confused, hungry, and so desperate to connect.
“Yeah, that's it, kitsu. Give me more,” Morgan whispered and licked his sensitive nipple.
When Morgan put his lips there and sucked on the hard nub, Kisho felt as if he'd split apart from the sheer ecstasy of his touch. A rush of precum dampened his shorts, and he ground against Morgan's cock.
“So hungry. Need you now,” Morgan muttered against his mouth. The large man slid down his body. Morgan yanked down his shorts, then took Kisho to the back of his throat.
Unable to do anything but react, Kisho fought the verge of
change
when Morgan cupped his sac and eased a finger near his hole.
The fire of desire overwhelmed him. A mixture of orange and cinnamon filled the air.
Every breath he took tasted like Morgan. As he gripped Morgan's silky hair, he lost himself in the male's embrace.
Morgan slid his tongue around Kisho's shaft and sucked hard. His finger left Kisho's ass for a moment, then returned, slick and hot, and slid inside.
Fuck, he used his own cream to lube. God, I'm so close…
Morgan moaned and shoved his finger deeper. Prodding, pushing, until he grazed that sweet spot that sent Kisho reeling.
“Morgan, please. Yes,” he moaned, climbing too fast toward his end.
In response, Morgan rumbled his pleasure and sucked harder, thrusting his finger in and out with greater speed.
The feeling of belonging, the union of scent and touch and male, pushed Kisho over the edge. “
Morgan
.” He unloaded into Morgan's hot mouth on a groan. He came hard, shuddering as he emptied his seed.
Morgan swallowed, and Kisho felt a moment of dizziness as the unreality of the situation shook him. He was purring so loudly it couldn't be missed, but he wasn't finished. His beast demanded he take what belonged to him. Light-headed, he pulled out of Morgan's mouth and sank to his knees.
The sight of Morgan licking his cum from his lips sent him into a frenzy. Kisho shoved Morgan to the floor mats beneath them and sliced his shorts from his body. The long, wet cock that met his gaze turned him on like nothing else.
Kisho devoured him.
“
Oh, fuck. Kisho
.” Morgan moaned his name like a prayer.
Kisho sucked hard, fast, and licked the sweet precum from his lover's dick, purring all the while. He distantly heard Morgan cry out his name, felt the man tremble and clutch his shoulders with strong fingers, tight enough to bruise.
And then Morgan came, jetting into his mouth with such sweet, hot cum.
Kisho sucked him dry, laving his shaft and balls, nuzzling the musky scent as he captured Morgan's essence and strove to keep it deep inside him.
The taste of his mate forced his arousal to the fore again. Going on instinct, Kisho shoved off his shorts and levered himself to his knees, now completely naked as he straddled Morgan.
“So beautiful,” Morgan rasped.
Kisho started jerking himself off, growing larger and thicker under Morgan's scrutiny. But Morgan wasn't content to watch. He caressed Kisho's belly, his balls, and rimmed his asshole.
And all the while he whispered words of praise and need that soothed the beast preening for attention. When Morgan pushed Kisho's hand aside and gripped his cock, Kisho exploded into a second, harder orgasm.
He grunted and shot over Morgan's belly, white jets of seed marking his mate.
“Rub it in,” Morgan said in a thick voice. “All over me.”
“Mine,” Kisho growled, his beast staking its claim.
“My kitsu…” Morgan murmured.
Kisho didn't hesitate. He leaned down and kissed Morgan, but the slight press of his fang over Morgan's lip drew blood. The taste of sweet copper told him what he'd already known.
Morgan Reynolds was his mate. His partner.
His future.
Reason returned, and Kisho groaned.
Morgan was all that, and more. Morgan was his doom.
Morgan lay there, trying to regain his wits, as Kisho fumbled with his clothing. Agitated and fierce, like the beast that writhed beneath his skin, the Circ just begged for Morgan to say to hell with everything and claim him. But he had a plan and an agreement to keep, so he'd bide his time. He'd wait, if not with patience, at least with the surety he'd found what he'd been so long in searching.
Sighing with contentment, Morgan linked his hands behind his head and watched his lover shove his arms through his shirt. “Where are you going?” Kisho glared down at him but said nothing.
Morgan could almost see the wheels of his kitsu's mind churning. Right now, Kisho had to be wondering what the hell to do. For years, Morgan had kept quiet tabs on the man. He was familiar with the way Kisho thought. Deliberate, decisive, straightforward: Kisho Hayashi dealt with life the way he wanted it dealt to him.
Growing up as an unwanted bastard on the streets of Okinawa had given him a hard shell, one that would be tough to crack. But Morgan lived for challenges. Hell, he'd been born to create friction, as his parents were fond of saying. Morgan always conquered obstacles in his path.
He had an innate gift for self-preservation. He should have died several times over during the course of his lifetime, but something—or
someone
—had always kept him tied to the here and now. He healed from mortal wounds. He never scarred and had never suffered from so much as a cold. Those closest to him, those people who were important to him, kept him grounded.
He knew there were some, like him, like his family, who were simply
more
. People like Fallon who could pull secrets from the mind, and Olivia who could read emotions. They could pose a danger to him if he let them. But Morgan refused to allow anything to threaten what he considered his. His family, his friends, his lover.
Nothing in his life had ever mattered as much as making sure he didn't lose Kisho.
“Aren't you going to get dressed?” Kisho asked in a quiet voice.
The quiet Morgan didn't mind. But the careful tone alerted him to pay attention. He deliberately stretched and rubbed his stomach, pleased to feel the sticky residue of Kisho's marker. “I'm basking in the afterglow. Gimme a minute.” Kisho frowned. “I need to…” He glanced toward the door, then back at Morgan, his gaze fixed to Morgan's hand on his belly. His dark eyes lit from within, and Morgan swore he saw an animal staring out at him.