Chapter Nine #3
Kevin slid off the window seat, the scent of warm summer rain enveloping Rio. He inhaled deeply as his mate stood next to him. His snow leopard pressed closer, purring softly at the smell.
“Lead the way, boss,” Kevin said.
Rio turned from the window. Behind him, Kevin’s bare feet padded against the hardwood floor. He’d noticed the sweatpants sat low on Kevin’s hips, though he’d tried not to notice.
His office occupied the corner of the second floor, windows on two walls, one overlooking the main street and the other facing the mountains. During the day, light flooded the space. At night, it felt suspended above the town, separate from everything below.
Kevin walked straight to the windows overlooking the street, hands sliding into the pockets of the sweatpants. “Nice view.”
“It serves its purpose.”
“Very Zen.” Kevin turned, taking in the office.
Rio glanced around, seeing his office through his mate’s eyes.
The large desk with dark wood. A leather couch against the far wall.
There was an absence of personal items, except for a single photograph on the bookshelf. Rio’s sister at her college graduation.
“Minimalist. I dig it.”
Rio closed the door. The click of the latch sounded louder than it should have.
Kevin’s attention snapped to him, and there it was—that awareness again, sharper now in the smaller space. “So…”
“So.”
“This is happening, right?” Kevin moved away from the windows, stopping just out of reach. “This whole thing where we’re pretending you’re letting me crash here out of the goodness of your heart and not because your snow leopard is probably doing backflips right now?”
A part of Rio unclenched. “You feel it too.”
“Feel it?” Kevin laughed, but there was an edge to it. “My impala started composing sonnets the second you crouched down in that kitchen. Which is embarrassing, frankly. I don’t even like poetry.”
Something loosened in Rio’s chest. He’d been holding that tension without realizing it, the possibility that this pull was one-sided, that his snow leopard had made a mistake.
“For the record,” Kevin continued, “I’m not usually this easy. I have standards. A whole list, actually.”
“What’s on the list?”
“Oh, you know. The basics.” Kevin counted on his fingers. “Must have a job. Must not live with their mother. Must not hit me in parking lots. Must not hide bodies in their freezer.”
“The bar seems low.”
“And yet so many fail to clear it.” Kevin’s expression shifted, humor sliding into something else. “But here’s the thing, Rio Vasquez, with your telenovela name and your weirdly calm energy about finding an impala in your kitchen…”
Rio waited.
“You’re really fucking hot, and I’ve had a terrible night, and if you don’t kiss me in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to do something drastic.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Reorganize your bookshelf. Mix up your filing system.” Kevin took a step closer. “Terrible things.”
Rio closed the distance between them in two strides. Kevin’s back hit the wall beside the window, and Rio’s hands came up to frame his face.
“This what you had in mind?” Rio asked, mouth close enough that Kevin’s breath ghosted across his lips.
“Getting warmer,” Kevin said, and then Rio kissed him.
Kevin’s mouth opened immediately, hands coming up to grip Rio’s shoulders.
His mate tasted like garlic and bread and something bright that made Rio press closer and cage him against the wall with his body.
Kevin made a sound low in his throat, not quite a moan but heading in that direction, and Rio’s control slipped another notch.
“Office makes more sense now,” Kevin gasped when Rio moved to his neck, finding the spot where his pulse hammered against thin skin. “Very convenient.”
Rio bit down gently, just enough pressure to make Kevin’s hips jerk forward. “You talk a lot.”
“It’s a coping mechanism.” Kevin’s hands found the hem of Rio’s shirt, tugged it up. “Among other things.”
Rio pulled back long enough to strip the shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind them. Kevin’s hands immediately explored the exposed skin, fingers tracing the lines of muscle with an appreciation that was both tactical and aesthetic.
“Snow leopard,” Kevin murmured. “Should have known. The whole silent-predator thing.”
“Still talking.”
“Make me stop.”
Rio kissed him again, harder this time, swallowing whatever comeback Kevin had been forming. His hands found Kevin’s hips, thumbs pressing into the hollows above the waistband of the sweatpants. Kevin arched into the touch, shameless and wanting.
“Desk,” Kevin managed between kisses. “The couch is too far.”
Rio lifted him easily, Kevin’s legs wrapping around his waist without hesitation. The few steps to the desk felt longer than they should have, Kevin’s mouth on his neck now, teeth grazing skin in a way that made Rio’s vision blur at the edges.
He set Kevin on the desk’s edge, papers scattering. Kevin laughed, bright and unexpected.
“Very dramatic. Very romance novel.” His hands framed Rio’s face. “I’m into it.”
“You’re into everything apparently.”
“Not everything.” Kevin’s expression went serious for a moment. “Just you. Which is inconvenient as hell, actually.”
Rio kissed him before that conversation could go anywhere complex. This thing between them was already complex enough—the mate pull singing through his bones, his snow leopard practically purring, Kevin’s scent filling his lungs with every breath.
Kevin’s hands pushed at Rio’s shoulders. “Off. Everything off.”
Rio stepped back, giving himself room to strip properly. Kevin watched with an expression that was pure appreciation, his eyes tracking every movement. When Rio’s hands went to his belt, Kevin made a sound that might have been a prayer.
“This is unfair,” Kevin said. “The whole”—he waved a hand at Rio’s body—“situation you have going on.”
“You’re one to talk.” Rio’s gaze traveled deliberately down Kevin’s form, still perched on the desk’s edge in the sweatpants. “Take those off.”
“Bossy.” But Kevin was already lifting his hips to slide the sweatpants down. “I should probably mention I don’t usually—”
Rio kissed him quiet, hands bracketing Kevin’s thighs, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Kevin moaned into his mouth, unabashed and loud enough that Rio was grateful for the building’s thick walls.
“Usually what?” Rio asked against his mouth.
“Hook up with guys who find me as wildlife.”
“First time for everything.”
“Oh good, we’re both branching out.”
Rio’s hand wrapped around Kevin’s cock, and whatever Kevin had been about to say dissolved into a sharp inhale. Rio stroked once, slowly, watching Kevin’s face transform.
“Fuck,” Kevin breathed. “Okay. Yes. That.”
Rio dropped to his knees.
Kevin’s hands immediately tangled in his hair. “Oh my god. You can’t just…without warning…”
Rio took him in his mouth, cutting off the protest. Kevin’s grip tightened, hips lifting slightly off the desk. The sounds he made were incredible—gasps and moans and half-formed words that might have been Rio’s name.
“I’m going to—fuck, Rio, I can’t—”
Rio pulled off and stood in one fluid motion. “Not yet.”
“Excuse me?” Kevin looked wrecked already, pupils blown wide, lips swollen. “You can’t just—”
“Turn around.”
Kevin slowly slid off the desk and turned, bracing his hands on the wood. “This escalated quickly.”
“Too quick?” Rio smoothed his hands down Kevin’s back, loving the way he arched into the touch.
“Did I say stop? No. Definitely did not say stop.”
Opening the desk drawer, Rio found what he was looking for. Kevin glanced back, saw the bottle, and laughed.
“You keep lube in your office desk?”
“I like to be prepared.”
“For impala invasions?”
“Among other things.” Rio slicked his fingers and pressed one against Kevin’s entrance. “Still good?”
“If you stop now, I will actually commit violence.”
Rio pressed in slowly, watching the way Kevin’s shoulders tensed then relaxed. He added a second finger when Kevin pushed back against his hand, impatient and demanding even now.
“You know,” Kevin said, voice slightly strained, “most people—oh fuck, right there—have a longer warm-up period.”
“You want me to slow down?” Rio crooked his fingers, finding that spot that made Kevin’s whole body jerk.
“Don’t you dare.”
Three fingers now. His mate was practically riding them, shameless and perfect. Rio’s control frayed with every sound Kevin made, every push back against his hand.
“Now,” his mate demanded. “Rio, please, now.”
Rio pulled his fingers free, slicked himself quickly, and pressed the head of his cock against Kevin’s entrance, taking a shaky breath.
“If you’re waiting for an engraved invitation…”
Rio pushed in.
Kevin’s moan echoed through the office. His hands scrambled for grip on the desk, knocking a cup of pens to the floor. Neither of them cared.
Rio set a rhythm that had his mate gasping with every thrust. His hands held Kevin’s hips, probably too tight, definitely leaving marks. His mate wasn’t going to complain because he was busy making sounds that were going to feature prominently in Rio’s dreams for the foreseeable future.
“Harder,” Kevin managed. “You’re not going to break me.”
Rio complied, driving deeper, and his mate’s whole body shuddered.
“There,” his mate gasped. “Fuck, right there, don’t stop…”
His hand found Kevin’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Kevin lasted maybe thirty seconds before he came with a cry, spilling over his mate’s hand and onto the desk.
Rio followed his mate over, the final thrust buried deep as release crashed through him. His vision went white at the edges, his body shuddering against Kevin’s back. The desk creaked under their combined weight.
For several heartbeats, neither moved. They just breathed, tangled together, Kevin’s back pressed to Rio’s front. Sweat cooled between them. Rio’s mouth found the junction where Kevin’s neck met his shoulder, lips pressing against overheated skin.