Healing the Fox (2 page)

As he undressed and stepped into the shower, he couldn't help but remember how Cris had looked, his tan skin against the soft cream of the sheets. His lithe body completely uncovered, the golden highlights in his red hair were a perfect match to his fur in animal form.

Sliding a soap-covered hand down his chest, Scott gave in to the urge and stroked his cock, gliding up and down the length as he fantasized about the other shifter. He wasn't sure enough yet what his personality was to determine if he would be dominate or submissive, but Scott hoped Cris was a switch like him, someone who felt comfortable in either role. Unlike the larger predator species, Scott hadn't had to worry too much about controlling himself with human partners, so he had never lacked for companionship, but there was something about being around another fox shifter, especially one as attractive as Cris, that was giving him ideas about the future.

Closing his eyes, he glided his hand up and down his erection, rolling his palm over the tip, then stroking back up. He could feel his balls tight against his body, the need to orgasm riding him hard. Pumping his fist faster, he tightened his grip. Up and down, up and down, blood throbbing in his cock, he jerked himself off until with a soft groan he came. Jets of cum splattered against the shower wall as his orgasm claimed him, almost sending him to his knees. In his mind's eye he could see the redhead kneeling before him, mouth open, eager to drink his cum.

With a soft sigh, he leaned back against the cool shower wall.

The next day passed fairly quickly, with Scott finishing up the last of his chores and spending as much time as he could with his house guest between his frequent naps. Although Cris continued to nod off during their conversations, Scott came to know the other shifter, and liked having him around. They shared a lot of the same views on what Scott considered the important topics, and there was certainly a spark of attraction every time they came into contact with each other.

Scott also found that his reaction to the other man was happening on many different levels. Intellectually he found him stimulating. Physically, there was no doubt about his attraction to the other shifter. It was the deeper, instinctive level that bothered him. His inner animal was responding to the other man, clawing and yelping to get out, to rub its fur along Christian's body, to share scents.

He had had lovers before, and while his fox always found the experiences enjoyable, there had never been a battle for supremacy. With Cris, he found it hard to deny his animal equal time. He also couldn't deny the bond that he felt forming between them, driving by an instinct older than time. He was mating, and if he wasn't careful, he would lose a part of himself when he had to let Cris go.

Early the next morning, after another restless night fantasizing about the other man, Scott headed off to work. Before he left he made sure that Cris had everything well within reach, including a phone. Time passed fairly quickly as he hit the ground running—from the time he walked through the doors, until he finished caring for the last animal almost eleven hours later. In between patching up critters, changing and cleaning cages, and feeding a whole passel of babies, he had managed to grab a light lunch around one. During the course of the day he had taken a few breaks to call his home and check on Christian, assuring himself that the other shifter was indeed okay.

Tired, hungry, and completely drained, Scott pulled into his driveway almost twelve hours after he had left it. The sun was setting, and he barely managed to drag his ass out of his car and up the steps. As he put his key in the lock, he debated which take-out place would be healthiest for the recovering fox.

Upon opening the door, the thought fled his mind. The most delicious scents were coming from his kitchen, scents he hadn't ever smelled in his home. As a barely passable cook, he had no use for the dozens of spices his sisters insisted he needed to keep on hand, let alone the raw ingredients needed to make full-on meals.

Most meals he consumed at home consisted of take-out or microwavable food.

As he headed down the hall towards the kitchen, the aroma grew stronger, yet it was mixed with a light scent of strange male. Fairly territorial by nature, his fox yipped at the indignity of someone other than him marking the house, yet it was also aware of the heady scent of male.

Of desirable, unmated male.

Cris himself had confirmed the fact, when he had asked if there was someone that needed to be called. As he reached the doorway, an off-key rendition of
I Can't Dance
greeted his ears. Leaning against the doorway, he watched as Cris moved, the borrowed jeans hanging low on his hips, his bare back undulating as he shimmied around the room in time to Genesis.

Holding up a spatula, he sang into it as he worked his way to the sink, where he dipped it into the waiting water. With smooth motions, he scrubbed the plastic, then rinsed it off before repeating his motions another time. Finally satisfied, he set it into the drainer and spun on his heel.

As he swung around, his gaze landed on Scott.

It was almost comical, the way his eyes widened, the slight curl of his lips, and the blush that stained his skin from his forehead down into his chest. Redheads really couldn't hide embarrassment.

"I was mmmmaking you dinnnnner,” Cris stammered out.

"So I see.” Scott couldn't help but reflect on how amazing it was. Just moments before, he had been dragging his ass just to get this far, but at the sight of Cris’ bare chest—the faint red hairs curling around his nipples and dusting his stomach, blazing a trail down to the waistband of the jeans—and he was wide awake More than, really. If his cock was anything to judge from by, he could go all night and into the next day without pause.

"I really appreciate it. I was just debating which delivery place to call for dinner."

"Not while I'm here.” If anything, Cris’ blush deepened. He really was charming, and the idea of keeping him was incredibly tempting.

Raised with four sisters, Scott couldn't resist teasing, especially given his own discomfort with the topic. “Oh, really now? Staking your claim, are we?” As Cris’ face flamed fire engine red, Scott wondered if he had gone too far. Likely the other shifter hadn't been the butt of two older sisters’ jokes and the bane of two younger ones. More than likely he also wasn't feeling the irresistible pull of a mating bond.

"I didn't mean ... I wasn't trying to ..."

Pushing off from the wood frame, Scott moved towards the other shifter and rested his hand lightly on his shoulder. “I know that. Sometimes, my inner devil overrides the better angels, and you see what results.” He resisted the urge to stroke his hand up and down Cris’ arm.

"Um, good. I wouldn't want you to think that I was... I mean, I don't want to make it seem like ... I do find you attractive, but I know that you might not ... Oh hell, dinner's almost ready."

Before he could second guess himself, Scott allowed his inner beast to take over. He stepped closer to the other shifter, just enough to brush lightly against him. Tipping his head down, he moved slow enough so the other man had more than enough time to pull away before their lips met. At the heat of contact, Scott slid his hand down from Cris’ shoulder along the lines of his arm and cupped his elbow.

Pulling him closer still, he nudged his tongue against the opening of Cris’ mouth until he was granted entrance.

A rush of pleasure swept over him, beginning at his lips but swirling down his body until his cock strained against the zipper of his jeans. The smell of desire rapidly filled the room as the two battled for control of the kiss, their mouths mashed together, teeth clicking as their tongues rubbed together, thrusting and parrying.

Breathless and a bit lightheaded, Scott finally broke the kiss and moved back. Looking at the other shifter, he could see Cris was just as affected. His cheeks were flushed, but not with embarrassment. His eyes had a faint glazed look, and his cock strained against the fly of his borrowed jeans.

For a brief moment, Scott wished the jeans were just a bit looser, so that the head of the other man's cock could nudge its way free. As it was, he had to fight the urge to unzip the denim, sink to his knees, and suck him off.

Clearing his throat, he tried to put some distance between them before he said to hell with dinner, lifted Cris onto the dining room table, and feasted on him instead. “Do I have time take a quick shower?"

"Barely."

As he stepped under the warm spray a few minutes later, Scott couldn't help remembering his shower from the night before. If he closed his eyes, he knew he could easily imagine the redhead's hands touching him, stroking the soap over his body. But, with a hot meal on the table, one that was home-cooked and didn't require him to make it, a quick orgasm was going to have to wait.

Although, if he played his cards right, the night might end with one.

Shaking the thought away as soon as he had it, Scott focused on two words.
Patient. Houseguest
. He kept repeating them in his head as he climbed out of the shower, dressed, and headed back into the kitchen. It didn't matter how much his cock ached to sink into the redhead's ass, or how much his own ass begged to be plundered. Cris was his houseguest, his patient, and he had no clue what the other shifter had planned beyond recovering. He certainly had no right to ask him to stay, nor did he want Cris to out of a sense of obligation. If they mated, it was going to be at Cris’ initiative, not his.

While he had been in the shower, Cris finished up dinner and managed to set the table that sat in the corner of the room, a homey little breakfast nook area. Settling himself into his normal seat, he waited while the redhead settled himself across from him before he picked up the salad tongs and dished himself a small portion before handing the bowl over and repeating the process with the spaghetti. Reaching for the warm and golden Italian bread that smelled so fantastic, Scott tore off a small corner and chewed slowly, savoring the flaring of taste on his tongue.

It had been a long time since he enjoyed fresh baked bread. Scott was rather intrigued that Cris managed to put such a meal together from just the stuff in his pantry and freezer. Scott's sisters insisted on keeping his stocked up with options, but most of the space was filled with quick fix meals.

"So, how was work today?” At Cris’ innocent question Scott almost choked on his dinner. For a brief moment he allowed himself to imagine how it could be, coming home to the svelte redhead each night. It was an altogether too tempting fantasy.

As soon as he got his coughing under control, his eyes still watering, Scott managed a “fine."

A soft chuckle greeted his response and he looked into Cris’ golden eyes to see them twinkling with devilish glee. In response Scott threw the rest of his bread at him, then immediately wished he hadn't. As the other shifter fished the flaky treat out of his lap, Scott snatched it back and took a bite, which earned him another chuckle.

Not that he minded. He could grow used to Cris’ soft laugh.

Shaking his head at his fanciful notions, he tried to tame his body's response to the soft sounds. All too easily he could hear what other sounds the slender man would make as Scott pounded his ass. If he closed his eyes, Scott knew not only would he hear the slurping moan of a mouth around his cock, but he would also be able to feel the phantom sensations.

"What about you?” Scott cleared his throat and tried again when his voice came out raspy and hoarse. “How was your day?"

"Lonely, but relaxing. I changed the sheets on my bed and finished up the laundry you had left over. I hope you don't mind.” Christian tipped his head slightly as he spoke, sending a cascade of red locks down to his cheeks.

Scott curled his hands into fists on his thighs, resisting the urge to reach out and brush the soft hair back so that he could see the other shifters face. Watching Cris’ facial expressions became was becoming almost an obsession with him. “Mind? Hell, I certainly don't. Feel free to do whatever around here, just don't tax yourself. You're supposed to be healing, not housecleaning for me."

Cris nodded and flashed him a quick smile before returning to his dinner. The rest of the meal passed mostly in nonsense talk as they discussed some of the things Scott did with his job and the home rehab. Cris, he found out, was wrapping up his college degree. Temporarily out of school for spring break, he had decided to go camping and let his animal roam for a few days. He was expected back on campus in two days.

As soon as that registered, Scott lost his appetite. Settling back in chair with a sigh, he pushed his plate away and tried not to mourn the loss of something he never truly had. “Where did you leave all of your gear?"

When Christian named the little state park about forty miles away, Scott offered to take him there as soon as he was done with dinner.

"If it's okay with you, I'd actually like to stay tonight and head there tomorrow.” As the other shifter stood up and came around to stand behind him, Scott held his breath. A soft kiss pressed against his neck, then the soft glide of a hand ran down his arm. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself a brief moment of fantasy before he had to face the reality that, at best, he could have one night with Cris. One night with someone he could easily picture spending a lifetime with. Because, as soft spoken as the other man was, he possessed a core of steel, evident by the fact he had survived two days alone on the side of the road, dying, and still remained sane. He was a man Scott could easily be proud to call his mate.

Scott could see where Cris would want to have sex, to reaffirm to himself that he was indeed alive. He'd be a shit to take advantage.

"I uh, have no problem with you staying another night, but you don't have to do anything you don't want to, Cris.” It took everything he had to get the words out, and still he felt they weren't enough. Scott almost fell out of his chair as it was suddenly jerked back from the table. Without any warning the lithe form of the other shifter straddled him and dropped into his lap, his warm svelte body sending shivers of awareness and need throughout Scott's body.