Lust consumed him once more, and McKinley concentrated on observing, not touching, as he itched to do. What the hell was it about this man that grabbed McKinley by the balls and wouldn't let go?
Rogers had sandy-colored hair, a shade darker than Paige's. He kept it cut short, framing a hard face. Women would find him handsome. McKinley found him…intriguing. In sleep, Rogers looked softer, more human. Though McKinley had yet to see Rogers in his other, changed form, he knew he'd find Rogers appealing.
And that bothered the hell out of him. He would have preferred women if given a choice. The only reason he'd had sex with men up to this point was because he didn't have it in him to harm a smaller female. The large men he used could tolerate pain as well as dish it out. He couldn't imagine trying to ram himself inside a smaller female like soft, sexy, desirable Paige.
He loved her so much. Everything about her called to him. Why then, did he feel the same pull for this male? And why had it felt so right to give Paige into his keeping?
Knowing what he did about General Kohl's fondness for Doc, McKinley should have insisted that Paige stay with him. Yet he'd all but pushed her into Rogers's arms, guided by the need to protect, by instinct.
Frustrated, he sat in a chair facing the bed and studied this enemy, who was not, exactly, an enemy. All the while, his body hungered, throbbing for release.
He'd come to check on Paige and reassure himself about Circe's Recruits. Paige seemed safe here, and she'd finally met her uncle. A sense of closure, in some respects, but also a chance at a new beginning. One thing McKinley could say about Doc, he took care of his Circs. They didn't suffer for anything with him around. From everything Diego had told him, Doc considered them family.
“Mmm, yeah,” Rogers murmured. He shifted in the bed and released a torrent of pheromones into the air. The blanket over Rogers seemed to grow—right between his legs. McKinley stood and took several steps toward the bed, like a puppet on strings.
He watched in horror as his hand lowered to Rogers's chest. The feel of such tough yet smooth skin burned into him, and he drowned in desire.
Rogers took him by complete surprise. In seconds, he turned from dead to the world to violently aggressive, shoving McKinley across the room into the wall. Shocked he hadn't seen that coming and dazed by Rogers's brute strength, McKinley needed a moment to get his bearings. When he looked at Rogers again, he found a beast only a head shorter than himself. Darker skin covered the creature staring at him with glowing green eyes. Rogers's hair had thickened and lengthened, and he resembled a barbarian of old clothed in nothing at all.
McKinley growled with need, frustration, and sheer hunger. This male belongs to me. This male I can take. He looked forward to burying his cock in that ass, to even taking that thick, dusky shaft in his own mouth.
“McKinley. I knew you'd come.” Rogers growled and flexed his arms, his biceps tight with packed muscle. His cock rose, as large as McKinley's. So powerful, this Circ wouldn't break easily, if at all. The notion overjoyed him.
“I saw Paige. She seems well.”
“She's good.” Rogers opened and closed his fists, showcasing lethal claws. When he spoke, his fangs appeared, and the thought of him biting into McKinley's flesh made McKinley quiver with desire. “Excited to see me?” Rogers nodded at McKinley's obvious arousal.
The jeans he wore didn't disguise his massive hard-on straining at the seams. “I should ask you that.” McKinley licked his lips, delighted by Rogers's scowl.
“Fuck it. You came here for more than a fight. I can smell it.” Rogers cupped his balls and stroked himself. “We both know you owe me for that psychic bullshit from before. Hell, I'll call it even. You want it? Come suck it.”
“I'll take what I want, when I want.” McKinley felt the familiar desire and anticipation he'd felt the other night. In the park, when they'd started toward each other, his beast hadn't wanted to hurt Rogers. He'd wanted to play with him, to demand a show of strength. “You owe me one, Rogers. Bend over the bed, and I promise not to hurt you.”
Rogers bared his fangs and smiled. Lust uncurled in McKinley's body, his sole intention to conquer and claim this male, his male. And then Rogers hit him full force, and the fight was on.
Chapter Eight
Despite McKinley's yellow eyes, claws, and fangs, he resembled a man, if a freakishly large man. So Hale was unprepared for the toughness of his skin. Punches glanced off his belly and chest. McKinley caught his last blow and wrapped Hale in his massive arms. Braced chest to chest, Hale should have locked his lips around McKinley's jugular and ripped his throat out. With his mouth almost level with the man's neck, it was the perfect weak point to exploit.
But Hale couldn't think past the desire exploding through his body. His beast thrilled at the sensation of this male against him. Just as he'd been with Paige, Hale wanted nothing more than to take McKinley and fuck him. But McKinley wouldn't accept anything less than Hale's submission. He instinctively knew that, but he didn't know what to do about it.
McKinley threw him to the ground and they rolled over, each scrambling to be on top. Hale ended up on the bottom and sucked in a breath when McKinley deliberately became deadweight. Shit. The bastard weighed a ton, and in the time it took Hale to catch his breath, McKinley had leaned down and taken one of his nipples between his teeth.
Stunned at the feel of this male's lips on him, Hale froze.
McKinley groaned and closed his eyes, sucking on the nub like a starving man.
“So fucking good,” he murmured and licked, bit, and teased until Hale wanted to explode.
The scent of evergreen appeared out of nowhere, drawing Hale deeper into McKinley's web. Too easy. Not right. More, need to fight. His beast raged at him to fight back, now, while McKinley's attention was distracted.
Forcing himself to obey, Hale thrust McKinley from him and regained his feet. He crouched, waiting to spring into action. McKinley rolled to his feet quickly, but he had to be in pain. His jeans stretched tight across his crotch.
“My house, my territory, my rules,” Hale growled. “Make it easy on yourself.
Submit.”
“In your dreams, Rogers. But I'll make it as fair as I can for you.” McKinley threw his jacket to the floor. He tore off his shirt and kicked off his boots. Clad in jeans and nothing else, the man made Hale want to check for drool.
“Holy shit.” Hale stared in fascination at McKinley's body. Hell, he was even bigger than Roane. Which made Hale wonder if he was as big all over. Unconsciously, his gaze sought McKinley's crotch again. Mindless with desire, he stood and gripped himself, locked in pure need.
The asshole took his moment of weakness and turned it to his advantage.
McKinley caught Hale in the middle with his shoulder. He took him down like a linebacker and pinned him to the ground. Their bare chests rubbed together, the slight pelt of dark hair over McKinley's pecs throwing Hale past rational thought.
“Fuck. If I don't come soon, I'm gonna go crazy,” Hale breathed, staring into McKinley's eyes. Up close, they looked like cat eyes, slumberous, seductive, conniving.
As he stared, McKinley's pupils dilated.
“I hurt,” the big guy rumbled. “I ache all the time.” He rubbed his jean-clad hard-on against Hale's cock, and the movement nearly broke him.
“Mating heat,” Hale managed and licked his lips, eager for a taste of McKinley's salty skin. “You need another Circ. I can smell it.”
“No. I need you.”