“You okay?” he murmured, lips hovering close to Zack’s ear.
“Perfect,” Zack answered, sounding like he actually meant it.
For a long minute, Colton just held him, thinking about how right it felt to have his mate sprawled across his lap. Where the day had started with bruises and anxiety, now there was only heat and the slow, steady drag of spent pleasure.
The world outside could go to hell as far as he was concerned.
* * * *
Zack woke, and for a second, couldn’t remember where he was. He must’ve fallen asleep after that mind-blowing orgasm.
The apartment was quiet, shades drawn, but thin lines of late afternoon sun turned the carpet pale yellow between the couch and coffee table.
His body felt boneless, warm all over, and drained in the best way possible. Behind him, where Colton lay, a low, throaty purr vibrated in his throat.
That noise, though.
Not the first time he’d picked up that sound from Colton, but this time, it wasn’t hiding behind a kiss or buried in the rumble of the Harley or tangled up in sex. It was big. Raw. Absolutely not human.
His entire body went rigid, panic slicing out any leftover relaxation. Try as he might, his brain threw up nothing but primal animal terror, as if there was a huge, dangerous predator camped out with its mouth to his ear. Instinct screamed at him to get out, get away, put something solid between him and that sound.
He tried to squirm free, but Colton’s arms locked down like steel, trapping Zack across his ribs. No chance of budging. A hot, heavy body at his back. Purring grew, filling the tiny apartment with the kind of rumbling that belonged in a zoo, not on an Ikea couch in a rented walkup.
Nuzzling followed, warm breath along his jaw. Colton dragged his nose over Zack’s cheek, purring even louder, making the surface of his skin vibrate. Something primal in that sound wanted to pin him flat and not let go.
“Uh, Colton?” His voice squeaked on the last syllable, not proud of it, but not apologizing, either.
A deep, vibrating growl rolled up next to his ear. The arms didn’t loosen, not even a fraction.
Man, he was going to die here, bare-assed and sticky, murdered by whatever the hell had taken over his new boyfriend’s body.
He rammed his elbow back as a last-ditch effort. No luck. Muscles like a brick wall.
Panic sent a crazy burst of energy though him. He dug in his heels and shoved hard, wrenching himself sideways. This time, Colton let go, maybe startled by the movement.
Zack tumbled straight off the couch. The rug was solid under his ass, the cold surprising after the heat of Colton’s body. Kicked backward, clumsy, caught his footing only by bracing behind himself on the floor.
Colton jerked upright with feline speed. Not a slow sit up, but the way big cats came alert on those wildlife shows, forearm steady on the couch cushion and eyes hunting for trouble.
Now the purr was more like a growl, lips curled back from straight white teeth. Colton scanned the apartment for threats, a physical readiness in every plane of his shoulders.
Zack scrambled around the coffee table, putting it between them. He needed a weapon, a shield, a goddamn crucifix. The tiny table held a stack of battered magazines, remote control, and some dead houseplants. Not great in a crisis.
Colton tracked him, those brown eyes transformed, almost feral. Not human at all.
Holy hell. He was going to die here—for real this time.
“What are you?” he managed, voice cracking.
Colton rose up on the couch, big and still, features easier but not entirely human. “Zack. Calm down.”
“I’m calm.” He palmed a rolled-up magazine, brandishing it like a sword. “I’m totally calm. That’s why I’m threatening you with periodical literature. Stay back, Colton, or I’ll give you a paper cut you won’t forget.”
“You’re overreacting.”
Overreacting? Did this guy even hear himself purr like a goddamn jungle cat? “Do you do that often? Bust out the Tiger King routine during aftercare? That’s a pretty big thing to leave off your dating profile.”
Colton eased forward, palms up, not threatening. “Not going to hurt you.”
