Burning Bright (11 page)

“Sasha, we really should talk—”

Bending forward, Sasha blocked Neal’s voice with his mouth. He licked Neal’s lips and then, as the bigger man opened his mouth to protest, slipped his tongue inside. Cupping Neal’s head with both hands, Sasha used his thumbs to stroke the sensitive skin of the bigger man’s ears. Neal shivered, clearly torn.

His empathy surged up, no doubt in reaction to the stress of the attack. He let it spin between his hands and Neal arched his back like a cat. Sasha came off the bench and pushed him back. Neal lost balance and rolled onto his back with Sasha riding him. Neal’s cock hardened between them, and Sasha ground his pelvis back and forth along its length.

“You may not like me after we have that talk,” Neal managed to say.

Sasha leaned over him, leaving his hips locked with the larger man’s. “Then if this is our last fuck, you’d better make it count.”

“You…” he trailed off.

Sasha caught his hand as he reached for the condoms. “When was your last AIDS test?”

“Why?”

He lowered himself along the thick, muscled body. “I’m clean; had the test before I moved here.” He bit Neal’s throat, on the side by his jaw, and Neal’s cock bounced. “I want you inside me without anything between us.”

“Sasha…”

“I mean it.”

Neal rolled and spilled Sasha onto his back on the warm floor, the water from the shower pooling around them. “That’s a big thing, no barriers between us.”

“I know.”

“You don’t make a snap decision about that.”

Sasha tried to put his absolute certainty into his eyes and his voice. “I know. I want you. I want to be
yours
.” He moved himself under Neal, rubbing his cock against the taut inner thigh.

Neal shuddered. “We need to have that talk first.”

“But—”

“Quiet,” Neal ordered. His massive hand closed around Sasha’s aching length like a vise. “You want it hard, you’ll get it hard. On your knees.”

He tried to move, but Neal didn’t let go of him. Like being led around by his dick, the sensation of being physically controlled fired his arousal better than anything else. He got onto his knees and Neal slapped his ass hard enough to mark him. The hand around his cock started to move, and Neal’s hand whipped across his ass again. Both the pain and pleasure receptors seemed to fire at once and Sasha nearly passed out from the intensity. Neal continued like that, the slaps hard and his hand moving like a machine, until Sasha came so hard a muscle knotted into a Charlie horse. He collapsed on his side, whimpering.

“What’s wrong?” Neal demanded.

“I pulled a muscle,” he grated, trying to rub it.

Neal pulled him across his lap, Sasha’s ass in the air. Strong fingers dug into the spasming muscle and Sasha sprawled, the afterglow still floating around him.

Long strokes petted and soothed him before Neal rolled Sasha onto his side and started washing him from the ass down. When the top rubbed Sasha’s anus and shaft with soapy hands, he damn near came again. Neal switched to the hand shower and rinsed him thoroughly, then turned off the water.

Neal stepped out to dry off, effectively ending the argument about barrier protection without making a decision one way or the other.

Of course, if he fucked him like
that
, maybe he didn’t need to argue anything…

Neal said nothing, just walked out of the bathroom without a backward glance. Gods, what a top. Neal pushed his buttons like no one else ever had, seemed to figure him out without asking. Sasha’s heart thumped harder. He already fell for the man, and hadn’t yet hit bottom. That sent a bolt of cold through him, but the pleasure helped pushed some of the fear back.

He fell twice trying to get up, and made it as far as the bench. Pulling his towel over, Sasha winced when he tried to dry off his dick.

Paybacks, Sasha promised himself, were hell.

Chapter Twelve

The Other Shoe

Sasha emerged from the bathroom, still weak-kneed and tingly. No one occupied the living room, but raised voices came from the other side of the bedroom door and walked over. He hesitated, listening.

“You can’t take him in there and fuck him like that without telling him, Neal.” He recognized Steve’s deep voice.

“You wanted me to tell him how I felt, so I did that. Fucking hell, Steve, what do you expect me to do?” Neal shot back.

“We expect you to nut up or shut up. Tell him the truth, Neal. You can’t have it both ways!” Paul yelled.

“Yeah, you saw how well the truth worked with my ex.”

“Red has his own hang-ups. You being what you are is only one of them. Sasha’s a keeper,” Steve shouted.

“He wants no barriers. With me.”

“Yeah? So? You clearly are gone on each other. Fucking take a chance, man, stop being such a hard-ass.”

“Being a hard-ass is what saved our lives, Steve. I’m not going to stop just to suit some bullshit fairy tale.”

“This isn’t a fairy tale. You tell that boy the truth.”

Sasha opened the door and met Paul’s steady gaze from across the room. Neal closed his eyes and exhaled heavily, while Steve glared at Neal.

“I’m not a boy,” Sasha told Steve. “I’m twenty-eight and a doctor. I’m not a child, and I’m not going to freak. Tell me what?”

No one spoke. Neal refused to look at him. Odd that he could be demonstrative sexually but have a plug in his mouth when it came to expressing his feelings.

Paul stirred and held Sasha’s gaze. “We’re not human.”

Sasha blinked. “What?”

Neal rounded on Paul, his muscles clenched and hands fisted.

Paul’s eyes widened and he stared at his former commander. “You’re gonna throw down with me
now
? Over this?”

“
I
decide who we tell, Paul.
I
lead this Krug, not you.”

“Kroog” meant circle in Russian. A flicker of shock shivered through him. Neal spoke Russian? What in Hades? And he said it like it had significance…

“You’re honestly gonna get into it with me over this?” Paul’s face darkened and he stepped toward the other man. “You need to sort out your priorities.”

“Wait!” Sasha stepped forward, confused. “Stop. Talk to me, dammit. You don’t have to fight.
Talk
to me.”

No one moved. Sasha walked over to Neal and laid a hand on his arm, then stroked the rigid muscles.

“What is Paul talking about?”

“He started it, he can tell you.”

“I’m asking you.”

Neal’s angry cinnamon brown eyes raked him. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I…” He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with an angry hand. “Dammit.”

“Please. Neal. Talk to me.”

“My men. We’re lycanthropes. Paul, Steve, Carlos and me. A couple of the others.”

Sasha’s knees buckled and he landed on the bed. “What?” His voice came out breathy and faint.

Neal shot a look of pure venom at Steve. “See?”

“Fucking tell him. Stop being such a big baby,” Paul snapped.

The knuckles of Neal’s left hand popped as he closed his fist. Sasha caught his wrist before he could advance on Paul and he jolted, like he’d strike at Sasha instead.

“What are you telling me?” Sasha asked him.

“We were infected overseas with lycanthropy. I can’t get STDs, because of it.” Neal’s voice came out cold and cruel sounding. “It’s not just us, either. Anton, Misha and Leo are tigers too, they were just born that way.”

Sasha rubbed his face. Suddenly things clicked into place in his mind—all of it, from his affinity for Neal to the ease of his attraction to Steve and Carlos. He, an animal empath, went and fell in love with a bunch of human animals. He started to laugh.

Neal whipped around and yanked away.

Sasha held up a hand, reaching for him. “You don’t understand. I’m an animal
empath
, Neal. It’s why I became a vet. My favorite aunt’s a doctor, and I started out studying human medicine. But I’m drawn to animals, always have been.” He stood and stepped closer to the angry top. “Don’t you see? This explains why I felt drawn to all of you.”

“What, you’ll fuck every lycanthrope you see?”

“Neal!” Paul shouted.

A bolt of cold went through Sasha. “What?”

“Jesus Christ, Neal. Grow the fuck up,” Paul spat.

Neal started to move away, to confront Paul, but Sasha sprang between them. He faced Neal. “Talk to
me
, dammit. Stop picking a fight so you don’t have to.”

The big man’s hand shot out and grabbed him around the throat. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

“Beating me up isn’t going to prove anything,” Sasha whispered. “I’ll still want you.”

“Fuck,” Steve breathed. “You fuck this up, and
I’m
gonna kick your ass. Look at what you’re doing. Look at him.”

Carlos pushed the door open and stepped in. “What’s going on?”

Neal’s eyes closed and he released Sasha. He stood there, stock still.

“Guys. Give me the room, please?” Sasha requested.

Paul gave him some serious eye contact. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said firmly.

“I’ll be right outside,” Paul told him, which sounded more like a threat to Neal than reassurance to Sasha.

Steve shooed Carlos out and followed, then Paul walked over and closed the door behind himself. Neal folded onto the armchair by the window, a lost expression on his face.

Sasha knelt in front of him. “Please. Talk to me. I swear, I’m not going to run out on you, or scream or faint or throw up. Just tell me.”

Neal sighed. “In Afghanistan, after the Battle of Tora Bora, my unit was sent into the White Mountains into Pakistan to find Osama bin Laden. It was December, really nasty weather in those mountains. We came across signs of fighting, and then signs of a mobile unit. Our CO figured it meant we’d found bin Laden.” He paused.

This seeming non sequitur had to be leading somewhere… “Did you?”

“No. I wish we had. What we found was a fuck of a lot more deadly. Do you know anything about lycanthropes?”

Sasha shook his head. “We studied the usual stuff in school, but there aren’t any in Madison. I’ve never met anyone who has it.”

Neal inhaled and looked out the window. “Siberian tigers are the largest of the big cats.”

“By like five hundred pounds.”

“They’re clannish. Lycanthropy is hereditary. Those of us turned can’t transmit the disease to anyone else, and many don’t survive infection.”

“What’s that got to do with—”

“Siberian tigers,” Neal cut in, “are even more insular. Russians, mostly, because of where the tiger’s habitat is. After the Soviet war in Afghanistan, a unit of the Soviet Army went AWOL. Their leaders assumed the Mujahedin got them.”

Sasha started to put two and two together. “But…”

“Their leader was a hereditary tiger. He managed to keep it secret from his commanders, or at least they never acknowledged it. Since he was born a tiger, he could infect us. Don’t ask me how, I don’t know all the scientific crap behind how it works. I just know he could. We can’t, and no one talked about it. Especially not once our boys got infected. He killed most of my men. I went into those mountains with twenty.” His eyes moved and locked on Sasha’s. “I came out with six.”

“Fuck.”

“We got discharged on a medical, each of us. Purple Heart for injury in the line of duty, slam bam thank you ma’am, and bang, we’re back in the States without so much as a pamphlet to tell us what the fuck we were supposed to do.”

“Who?”

“Paul, Steve, Carlos, Mitch and TJ.”

Sasha cocked his head. “Who else?”

“My cook, Mario. He’s not a tiger, though. He didn’t get the infection. He survived the attack with nasty scratches.” He paused. “You haven’t met Mitch yet. He went to the
Troika
so he could let his tiger out. There are three other tigers here, but they’re hereditary tigers. Real ones, not… whatever
we
are. Anton came from the
Troika
, as did Misha and Leo. Dillon’s not a tiger, he was born an Arctic Fox. The
Troika
doesn’t like him, but he fits in here.”

“You say
Troika
like it means something different. I thought it was a carriage?”

“No. A
Troika
is a full tribe, women, children, the works. Their leader’s called a
Nachalnik
, for Chief. That’s Boris. His wife Ana leads with him. Boris has the supreme authority, but the women rule their own circles. My group’s a
Krug
.” He pronounced it kroog, just like a Russian. “It’s a group of bachelor males.”

Sasha blinked. “Kinky.”

Neal snorted. “Yeah.” He hesitated. “In tiger culture, it’s a sign of dominance for one male to mount another. I wouldn’t let Boris dominate me, and it caused friction. We came here. We were already used to hiding what we were, since we’re Marines. I bought this place, and you know the rest.”

“Do you have a title?”

“
Chef
.”

“Is that because you own a restaurant? Or the Russian word for Boss?”

“It’s Russian, but
since
I own a restaurant, only other tigers know what it means.”

“Let me see.”

Neal blinked. “Huh?”

“Show me your tiger.”

“What, now?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Neal sighed and let go of the armrest. His hand and part of his arm grew fluffy cream, pale orange and black fur, ending in serious-looking claws.

“Okay… How about the rest of it?”

“You really are a pain in the ass, Doc,” Neal complained.

Sasha rose and sat on the bed. “Quit with the foreplay, dude. Shift already.”

Neal pulled off his towel and leaned forward as if to fall onto his hands and knees. But when he landed, he seemed to blur and a full-grown male Siberian blinked at Sasha from inches away.

“Shit.” Sasha slipped off the side of the bed onto his knees. He reached out a hand that only trembled slightly and stroked Neal’s head and neck. The big cat’s ear flicked backward, like a real tiger, and he laughed. The fur bulked healthy and soft under his hands and he had to resist the urge to check the muscle tone.

Neal began to purr. Sasha smirked. It sounded like the top when he was sleeping. “So much for the debate about whether big cats purr. We’ll have to check the one about catnip.”