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And where will Syrus go in that deep, lonely ocean? Without a pod or family or anyone to watch over him?

Luke didn’t have an answer, and he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear the careful footsteps behind him. But he froze in place and dropped the plate he’d been rinsing back in the water when he felt a large, cool presence at his back.

“Um…”

Syrus pressed closer, and Luke could feel every line of him against his spine. Every line. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to shift back. That would be…why would he do that?

“I could assist?” Syrus said, half question, half suggestion.

Luke couldn’t answer, too focused on the odd coolness of Syrus’s skin. Luke could feel it even through his clothes. And it was skin he was feeling, wasn’t it? Not silk. Not a robe.

Luke closed his eyes, his hands still submerged in the soapy water. “Syrus,” he said slowly. “Why exactly are you naked right now?”

9

LUKE

Luke held his breath as he waited for his answer, but Syrus didn’t move back. “You said to remain clothed with Colby present,” he said, so close his voice was a low whisper in Luke’s ear. “Colby is asleep now.”

Luke clenched his jaw. “I didn’t mean for you to strip down as soon as Colby is out of the room.”

A huff of a laugh, hot against Luke’s skin. “Why, Luke, do you find my form distracting? Maybe…pleasing?”

Luke refused to answer that. Any response he gave when two-hundred-plus pounds of beautiful, muscled man was pressed against his back wasn’t going to be a sane one.

“I understand,” Syrus crooned. “I find your form pleasing as well.”

“You haven’t even seen my form,” Luke argued inanely.

He could sense Syrus’s triumphant smirk, as if Luke had walked straight into his trap. “Would you like to show it to me?”

Luke couldn’t chalk this up to cultural differences anymore, could he? This wasn’t the ambivalence of Syrus preening indiscriminately, hoping someone would praise his looks. Syrus was flirting with Luke. Blatantly and…nakedly.

Luke removed his hands from the warm, soapy water and turned around. He immediately regretted his choice. Syrus didn’t step back so much as an inch. If anything, he seemed to move even closer, setting his hands on the sink ledge and locking Luke in place as he loomed over him.

The direct approach was best in these situations, wasn’t it? Luke took a breath and let it out slowly. “Syrus, are you flirting with me?”

Syrus grinned down at him. “Sweet Luke, I thought you’d never notice.”

This was crazy, for any number of very good reasons. The different species thing was definitely at the forefront there. And something in the back of Luke’s mind, some blaring warning.

Syrus had said another word for his kind was “siren,” hadn’t he? And didn’t sirens seduce sailors to their doom? Lure them off their boats with pretty faces and even prettier songs?

But that was the logical part of Luke’s brain, and it was getting overpowered by the extremely illogical, haven’t been touched in so long part of Luke’s brain. Syrus was standing so close, his nose practically brushing against Luke’s cheek. And he smelled good, which Luke hadn’t noticed before now. There was something cold and crisp about his scent, however that worked. Almost minty, although it wasn’t any kind of mint Luke had ever smelled before. It was more like the feel of ocean air on chilled skin.

None of that made any sense, really, but it was hard to care when Syrus leaned in closer, nosing along Luke’s jawline, and it had been so long since someone had approached Luke like this, and his eyes sort of fell closed, and his mouth sort of fell…open.

The moment Luke’s lips parted, Syrus’s lips were right there, meeting them in a gentle touch. Given Syrus’s demanding nature, the kiss was surprisingly tentative. Just a gentle press, there and gone. But then Luke sighed—how nice was it to be kissed?—and Syrus was back, pressing into Luke more firmly this time. Luke couldn’t help tilting his head to better the angle, and then Syrus’s tongue was slipping inside, coaxing Luke’s out to meet it.

God, that was nice. Just the right amount of pressure, the perfect bit of refreshing coolness. Luke wrapped his arms around Syrus’s neck and leaned into him. Syrus let out a husky, low sound, something akin to a growl, and before Luke could get his bearings, the kiss turned ferocious. Demanding in just the way Luke would have predicted.

He was out of practice with seduction. That must have been why his knees went weak, why he melted so easily, a moan escaping his lips as Syrus plundered his mouth. Warmth pooled in his belly, and his cock filled in his jeans.

Fuck. It was just a kiss. It shouldn’t have been affecting him like this.

When Luke was dizzy and molten and had forgotten what it was like to breathe, Syrus finally broke the kiss with a grunt. He stared down at Luke, pretty eyes narrowed in something that almost looked to be anger.

Luke could only stare back, panting as he tried to catch his breath.