11
Patrick slappedhis hand against the doorframe on the way into the apartment, pushing his magic into the threshold, strengthening it as much as he could. The buzz of adrenaline had left him somewhere downtown. A different sort of buzz hit his nerves when Jono didn’t hesitate to crowd him up against the door after Patrick closed and locked it.
Patrick’s head thumped against the door as he stared up into Jono’s face and the worry in those wolf-bright eyes. Without more dangerous people taking up his attention, Patrick could focus entirely on the other man. He remembered every second in that warehouse when Jono was plastered against his back, those strong arms refusing to give Patrick up to Lucien and Hermes when a saner person would have.
Or maybe, just a less stubborn one.
“You need better backup,” Jono said, his voice a quiet rumble that went straight to Patrick’s dick.
“You offering?” Patrick asked, unwilling to take the words back.
“I don’t know why your agency doesn’t give you a bloody partner. You need one to keep you from doing stupid shit.”
“I don’t—”
Whatever Patrick would’ve said, he forgot the words when Jono kissed him. Jono bypassed gentle and went straight to demanding, one hand framing Patrick’s face to hold him still while Jono devoured him. Patrick let him, reaching out with greedy hands to grab at Jono’s hips and urge him closer. Jono obliged in the best way possible.
He broke the kiss, warm hands groping Patrick’s ass for a second or two before hauling Patrick into his arms with easy strength. Patrick wrapped his legs around Jono’s waist, his hardening cock pressed against rock-solid abs. He dragged his hands through Jono’s black hair, staring into blue eyes that weren’t entirely human.
“Drop your shields,” Jono said.
With anyone else, Patrick would have ignored the request, would have kept his shields up so no one could sense the damage in his soul and magic. Since Thursday night, he’d been making one exception after another for Jono.
What it all came down to was that Patrickwanted—had wanted whatever Jono offered to give him since Thursday night at the bar. He’d told himself one night, that was all he got, and here he was, going back on his own self-made promise.
At least he wouldn’t owe anyone but himself over it.
Patrick knew he wouldn’t get to stay beyond the length of the case, that Jono would just be a fond memory years down the line if Patrick survived that long. But for right now, he’d take one more night if that’s what the Fates wanted to give him.
“Yeah, okay,” Patrick said, chasing after Jono’s mouth.
He dropped his shields, let them peel apart beneath his skin. The taint in his soul, in his magic, was something people usually flinched away from. Jono buried his face against Patrick’s healed throat, licking a hot stripe up to his ear before biting down on the tender lobe there.
“I want to fuck you,” Jono growled.
“Gods yes,” Patrick groaned, tugging at Jono’s hair. “I packed lube and condoms.”
Jono lifted his head, staring at him. “You travel on business with those?”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “I was supposed to be onvacation. InMaui. Getting drunk and getting fucked.”
Jono’s smile was wicked, the heat in his bright eyes making Patrick press closer. “Could use the lube. Don’t need the condoms, if you want.”
The werevirus was sometimes classified as an STD, one most people didn’t want. Werecreatures were immune to all other STDs because of it. Magic users had an immunity to the werevirus, but not anything else. Patrick was never going to turn furry, and the thought of letting Jono fuck him bare made his cock throb.
“The condoms stay in the suitcase,” Patrick said.
Jono hauled him away from the front door, carrying him into the bedroom. Patrick busied himself with learning the shape of Jono’s mouth more thoroughly. Jono didn’t turn on the overhead light when they entered the bedroom, but he did turn on the bedside lamp after dropping Patrick on the bed. He bounced once before he got to work undoing the laces on his combat boots. He managed to get one off, but then Jono stripped out of his shirt and Patrick forgot what the hell he was trying to accomplish.
Shirtless, Jono’s hard-cut abs and defined biceps were on full display. His skin was smooth and unmarked, and Patrick wanted to lick his way down Jono’s chest the way some people craved dessert. Jono smirked at Patrick as he dug up the bottle of lube from the suitcase.
“Get your bloody kit off,” Jono said.
Patrick yanked on the laces of his remaining boot. “Yeah.”
It took him a little longer to get undressed than Jono. Patrick kept getting distracted by the utter unselfconsciousness Jono exuded once he was fully naked. Patrick’s fingers fumbled at the straps and buckles holding his dagger in place once he got eyes on Jono’s cock. His mouth immediately watered at the sight of the half-hard length Jono was casually stroking. His cock was long and thick, black pubes trimmed down close to skin, and everything Patrick didn’t think he’d get until this case was over.
He wanted Jono in himnow.
