by BA Tortuga
So pretty. Sam was just beautiful all over. Gus was a little awed.
“Your hands are warm.”
“You’re hotter, babe.”
Sam spread a little wider, bent in a clear offer, body stretched out for him. Oh, yeah. He needed some of that. Gus pressed forward and up, pushing a little. He got off on that little yowl, the low, deep purr.
“God, babe. Hot.” He pressed closer, his cock slipping inside Sam’s body. Sam rocked back, taking him in to the root, like he fucking belonged there. Maybe he did. They were mates, no matter how much he hoped he was wrong. His mind skittered away from that thought. He couldn’t mate with a cat.
A cat couldn’t mate with him.
That was wrong. Right?
Gus concentrated on his body, on how good it felt to slide in and take what he wanted.
“Yes….” Sam’s body squeezed and rippled, worked his cock like a fist.
“Christ.” He dropped his face against the crook of Sam’s neck and shoulder. His hips moved faster and faster, his breath coming hard.
“Good. Good. Soon.” Sam met each thrust, growling deep, and he felt the rumble, all around his prick.
“God, yes. I—” His thoughts skittered away, his brain shorting out. Gus came hard, his orgasm stealing his breath.
Sam came for him in return, so pretty. So hot. The man smelled like his.
He stuck his nose into the curve of Sam’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. His. It didn’t scare him as much to think; it got better every time.
“Much better than a jail cell.”
“Fuck, yes.”
Sam started cooking again, staying close. “You have to watch that getting arrested thing.”
“Tell me about it. They accused me of smuggling. I paid for those rocks.”
“I know.” He heard Sam’s belief in that voice. Gus thought Sam would have sprung him whether he’d paid or not.
“Thanks, babe.” He meant it. Sam had his back.
The soft purr vibrated his chest. He stroked Sam’s skin, fingers tracing all those little scars. How many fights could a dancer get in? Hell, how many fights could a cat get in? They were way more one cat per territory than wolves were pack animals.
“Eggs are done.”
They smelled good too.
“No fish, right?” Sam would put tuna in anything.
Sam’s laughter was low, tickled, made him smile. “Not this morning.”
“Smoked salmon on a bagel I can handle. Not tuna in an omelet.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sam turned, nose sliding on his jaw. “Eat.”
“Thanks.” He took a kiss before he took the food.
Sam watched him for a second before following, curling into the cushy dining chair. Who the fuck had padded kitchen chairs? With arms. Lord. Gus settled in, though, and it felt good.
Sam ate, licking and purring over the plate, still deeply feline.
His body started to heat up, and damn, Gus wanted to know why this had to be his fate. Lone wolf with kitty fetish. It was like the most ridiculous want ad ever.
“Is the food okay?” Sam was sucking his fingers clean.
“It’s great.” He hadn’t even noticed. Gus glanced down at his plate, which was empty. Damn.
Sam nodded, the grin oddly knowing. Then his slinky kitty headed over, pushed right against him, straddled his thighs.
“Hey.” He grabbed Sam’s ass, holding him right there.
Sam scented him, nose on his jaw, his ear. “Hey. Better.”
“Definitely.” It was. Touching was good. “So what do you do for fun here?”
“Here in the apartment? I dance. I play. I watch movies on the projector.”
“What do you do when you go out?” He nibbled a little, the skin he found so tasty.
“I work.”
“That’s it?” He had the feeling they’d had this conversation before, but he wasn’t good at touchy feely, wasn’t good at remembering stuff. He had a feeling he’d be better at it with Sam from now on.
“Basically.” There was something odd in Sam’s voice, something weird.
“What?” Gus hated feeling stupid, and he really did at the moment.
“What-what?” Sam’s head tilted.
“You just sound like you’re not sitting in my lap getting a butt rub.” He winked. They’d explore that whole learning shit about each other later.
Sam purred happily. “Move your hand up a couple of inches and that won’t be a problem. I won’t be able to think at all.”
“Here?” He moved his hand up, scratching at the small of Sam’s back.
Sam’s eyes crossed, lips parting immediately. “Uhn.”
Look at that. Gus growled a little, scratching harder, and Sam just twisted, the look in those eyes pure bliss.
Such a kitty. It was ridiculously hot. He wanted to see if he could scratch Sam to orgasm, maybe. Sam leaned into him, mouth open, breath hot on his throat.
“You can bite if you want.”
Gus wanted. Bad. He wanted to tussle.
Sam’s tongue hit his skin first, the flesh just a little too rough to be right. Then he got a sharp bite, right on his jaw.
Bingo. That was going to leave a tiny bruise. Not for long, with the way he healed, but long enough to know it came from Sam. He pushed at that spot on Sam’s back, needing his cat there with him.
“Gus.” Sam started to rock, the low sounds against his throat so fucking wild. “Don’t stop.”
No, he wouldn’t stop. No way. This was way too damned hot. Sam was rubbing all over him, the scent making him dizzy.
“Need.” Nails scraped along his sides; Sam’s hard prick left wet kisses on his belly.
“Uh-huh. So bad. Need so bad, I mean. This is good.”
“Yes.” One bite became two, then three, Sam’s purrs filling the air.
“Toothy kitty.” Gus humped, his breath huffing in his chest.
“Mmm-hmm. More.” Sam bit deeper, shaking Gus a little, making it sting.
They rocked together, both of them moving faster. He stroked that sweet spot on Sam’s back, digging in a little more.
Sam’s cock slid against his belly again and again, still wet at the tip, even harder now. Gus grabbed it, rubbing it hard against his skin, thumb scraping the tip. The yowl he got was fierce, making the glasses on the counter rattle.
His mate. His. He was through trying to deny it.
Sam’s eyes went wide, almost like the man heard him. “Again. Please.”
“Yes.” Yes. Mate. He finally just pushed against Sam and said it out loud. “Mate.”
Heat sprayed between them, Sam staring at him, eyes wild. Gus felt every second of it, his breath catching, his cock and balls aching as he came.
His lips were taken in a hard kiss, Sam claiming his mouth like they both hadn’t just come. Gus could live with that. He was always damned horny right around the moon. His balls might hate him later, but the rest of him was fucking tickled.
Gus kissed Sam back, just as hard, pressing against that lean body, his hands under that fine ass. He felt every move, every little slide of the long spine. The skin there was so fine, even peppered as it was with rough hair.
Sam’s fingers brushed through his hair, petting him, nails scratching his scalp. Gus wanted to purr, but hey, he wasn’t a kitty. He rumbled instead.
“Good sound.” Sam’s cheek slid against his.
“I feel good.” He did too. Whatever came later would come. This was right.
He let Sam lean in, rest against him, purring loudly.
“Your place is growing on me, babe.”
“It’s safe, cozy. I love it here.”
Gus chuckled. He wouldn’t go as far as love. He could feel the city pressing on him.
Sam kissed his chin. “Come on. More food. More fucking. Then a nap.”
His kitty had his priorities straight.
Gus nodded, stretching good and hard before going for food. The rest they would figure out, so
oner or later.
Chapter Fifteen
THE MOON. The moon. The moon. He sat at the window and stared, vibrating softly. It was coming. Soon. Sam could feel it, battering at him.
He could feel Gus too. His lover was sleeping, but the bond was there between them, a constant, low hum.
Sam wasn’t sure how he’d managed it—mating with a wolf—but he had. And Gus felt it too. Gus had said it out loud. God, what a trip. He chuffed softly—at himself, at Gus. They couldn’t be mates, could they? He was a city-living freak; Gus was a rock hound.
Rock hound.
That was bad.
He heard a loud, squeaky yawn and turned to find Gus staring at him. “Hey, Puss.”
“Pup.” He smiled over, stretched lazily. “Moon’s coming.”
“Uh-huh. Starving. Ready to run. You should come out with me tonight.”
“Out? Out there?” The fear he felt was immediate, undeniable. Was the man insane? “No. No, you can’t go out there.” It wasn’t safe.
It wasn’t sane.
“What? It can’t be that bad with two of us to keep an eye out.” Gus smiled, completely at ease.
“There’s nowhere to go, Pup. Only concrete and death.” More teeth and claws than one man could fight.
“There has to be a place where I can see the moon, Puss.” The smile was fading, Gus shifting from foot to foot.
This was never going to work. He had to get Gus out of the city, first thing in the morning. If he got Gus a flight out of La Guardia early enough, his mate would be home in the afternoon. Free. He opened the curtains wider, the huge bay of one-way windows bared to the sky, before heading to his computer and pulling up Travelocity. “Does that help?”
Gus didn’t understand. They were out there, and there were more of them than even two of them could fight. Tonight, they were inside.
“It does.” But Gus didn’t go to the window, he came to Sam, hands on Sam’s shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you a flight home first thing in the morning so you can run.” Giving his mate what was important and right. Necessary.
“You’re coming with me, then, right?”
He looked up, wanting to more than breathing, but he wasn’t a kitten anymore, wasn’t footloose and fancy free. “So that you can lock me in a little room? Here I have some space. Security. There’s no room for me there. I’m not pack.”
The words were true; even Gus had said them. He didn’t belong, not during the moon. It was the way of things.
“Who said we had to go to the gathering?” Gus squeezed his shoulders. “I know this mine in Nevada. I have a cache there. During the moon, it looks like an alien landscape.”
“Oh.” He leaned into the touch, eyes crossing at the sheer, unadulterated pleasure that was huge. Vast. The biggest thing he’d ever felt. “I would, Gus, but I have to be here the day after. It’s the last week of rehearsals on the show. After… if you want?”
Please want. Please? He’d told himself he didn’t want Gus to need him, but he did. So badly.
“Of course I want.” One hand slid down between his back and the chair to hit that little spot.
He shivered, ass sliding on the leather chair. “Then I’ll meet you. I have this one commitment and I’m free.” Free.
He could take his laptop, some important things, and let the rest go with the property. Hell, he could go and take his savings and buy anything they needed.
Gus dug in harder. God, those fingers. They were rough and callused and yet gentle on his skin. His nerves were singing, his eyes crossing with pure bliss. Mate. Gus scratched a little, just like he was in full cat mode, just like he had his tail.
His fingers hiccupped on the keyboard. “Trying to get you somewhere free, Pup.”
“It can wait.” Gus turned him about in his chair, hands sliding up to his shoulders.
He looked up, eyes trailing up the beautiful, ripped belly.
“She’s almost here, babe. Let’s play, huh?”
“Play.” He leaned forward, let his tongue drag on Gus’s belly.
“Uh-huh. We can play chase. Keep away.” Gus danced back, prick rising.
“Mmm. Hunting.” Stalking. His favorite game. He slipped out of the chair, nose twitching. “You’d better hide, Pup.”
Gus made a break for it, tearing around and making feathers and sequins fly. Then he seemed to just disappear.
Sam rowled softly, mouth open as he scented the air. His lair. His den. His mate. He dropped low, kneeling down. He could almost feel his tail twitch.
Gus was there. He could feel more than hear the man breathing. Still a man, yes.
He slid to one side, then leapt up, muscles tensing and releasing as he landed on a ledge that looked over the flat. He searched carefully, watching for movement. Gus was sure to give himself away. The feathers and baubles bobbed and swirled, just outside his focus as he scanned. Couch. No. Bookcase. No. Table. No.
There. Slipping out from behind the screen by the bed.
He crouched, sprang, fighting to make it over the bed. Sam landed on Gus’s left hip, just as his mate tried to turn and slide away from him.
He grabbed Gus and squeezed tight, nibbling one shoulder. “Got you.”
“Mmm.” Gus rumbled, a happy, settled noise. “Now what are you gonna do?”
“Claim you.” He bit a little harder, playing.
“All yours.” There was something growly and serious there.
“You know how fucked-up this is, right?” He bit again, hating to ask, but having to.
Gus looked him right in the eye. “Why do you think I hated you so hard when we were kids, Puss? We knew back then.”
He purred—he couldn’t not, not with Gus looking at him, wanting him. He leaned in, scented Gus’s jaw. His. Gus’s fingers slid along his jaw, touching his cheek, his ear. Yes. His. His eyes crossed a bit, his hands fluttering, unable to decide where the fuck to touch, to explore. Gus kissed him, turning his head a little to get a good fit. Then everything clicked.
They rolled together, bodies thumping on the padded floor, against cushioned furniture. Solid and hot above him, below him, everywhere, Gus felt right. It was insane, but he didn’t care. As soon as the moon was over, then the rehearsals, they would find their place together.
They would figure this shit out.
“ARE YOU sure you can’t just come with me, Puss?” Gus shifted from foot to foot, not really wanting to leave.
Sam kissed the corner of his mouth, the touch featherlight. “I have to finish up the show, earn my paycheck. Then I’ll come to you, and we’ll figure things out.”
“Okay.” Something was nagging at him, something almost like prescience, but Gus ignored it. “There’s a tourmaline mine in California. I’ll check in every couple of days.”
“Mmm. Sparklies.” Sam groaned softly. “It was easier to leave when we were fighting.”
“Definitely.” Gus knew he should just go. Make it easy. He just couldn’t seem to do it.
“I could call you a mangy cur, if you want.”
“Just don’t kick me again. I’m almost recovered from those last beatings.” He winked, then gave up and reached for Sam, kissing the man hard. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I may not have service down in the mine, but I’ll check my phone a couple times a day.”
“I’ll call. You have my word.” Sam pressed close. “This is silly. We’re being ridiculous. It’s a fucking week. We’ve been apart years at a time.”
Yeah, but they hadn’t let the bond set then, hadn’t let it live. Still, he had to go. Had to, or he wouldn’t, and the city was sucking his soul right out. Gus sighed and said it before he could think. “I love you.”
“I know. Go. You hate it here.” Sam winked, scented him one more time, then pushed him out the door.
“You’re such a prick, Puss.” I know, he said. Like the man was Han Solo and Gus was a princess or something. Gus left, though, because he had to. He pulled his phone out to c
all his mom on the way down in the elevator, cursing when he didn’t get signal until he hit the street.
Her voice was like a rush of home, though, as soon as he heard it. “Baby boy.”
“Hey, you. I’m back in the States. I’m headed for my dolomite mine.”
“You’re okay?”
He ducked an unsavory group of folks. God, how could Sam live here? He guessed it was the price Sam paid for the fancy-assed penthouse.
“I’m good. Sam got me out before the moon.”
“That’s good news. He always was a decent sort.”
“Yeah.” He wanted to tell her about Sam, but he decided to wait and do it in person. She had enough going on with Pete and his girl.
“You’re okay, though? Coming back where you’re safe for tonight?”
“Oh, I’ll make it to the mine. I’ll be fine.” He would. He was good to go in the States. He had bolt-holes everywhere. It was places like Afghanistan that gave him issues when they put him in jail….
“Good. I love you, Son. I’m glad you’re home. I worry.” That was her job. She was a momma, after all.
“I love you. Have Pete call Sam, will you? He’ll need to chat.”
“Surely will.” Her voice made him smile, almost as much as the car that pulled up next to him on the street, Sam’s driver hopping out.
His Puss had sent him a car.
It had to be love.
“Okay, Mom. I’ll call you from the mine. I have to go.”
“Be careful, Son.”
“I will. See you soon.”
He leaned back, closed his eyes. This was ridiculous.
Insane.
And it needed to be over soon.
Chapter Sixteen
HE HEADED upstairs, rolling his head on his neck. Three days Gus had been gone.
Two long nights with the moon glaring down at him, making him ache. He’d woken up each morning exhausted, house a wreck, the bruises on his body from his panther needing out, needing to find his mate.
