When changed, his skin could repel small caliber rounds, his claws and fangs could do major damage, and he healed at a rapid rate. Even in a man's form, his flesh regenerated quickly. The animal that resided just beneath his skin had an uncanny instinct for survival. It often knew what Kisho needed before he did.
But along with those positives came the mating heat, a major pain in the ass. Literally.
Once a month, and lately, more often than that, he and his fellow Circs experienced a driven need to procreate. So long as the sexual partner was a Circ, gender didn't matter. A raw means of survival, to perpetuate their own species—which wouldn't have been such a problem, except that few female Circs existed. A real bummer for his friends, but not such a problem for Kisho.
He'd always preferred men over women. The one time he'd tried fucking a female he hadn't enjoyed it. Frankly, the female form did nothing for him. Oh, he easily conceded Olivia's sensuality and Ava's incredible beauty, but sexually, they left him cold. His friends, on the other hand, made his temperature rise without even trying. And his natural attraction embarrassed him.
He knew his fellow Circs only engaged in sex with each other because they were driven to it. Not wanting to alienate the only people he considered family, Kisho didn't draw attention to himself. Though he thought by now they might suspect something, he refused to give them an opening to reject him. The navy's “don't ask, don't tell” policy continued, even though their official time in service had ended.
Jules and the others had accepted Circ bisexuality easier than he'd thought they might, but at the end of the day, they still sought females when hungry for human sex.
“Dude, I hate when you get all quiet.” Tersch grumbled and kicked at his feet. “You okay?”
Fallon answered for him. “He likes to think a lot, something you wouldn't know much about.”
“Ass.”
“It's always about my ass, isn't it?” Fallon said with a fake leer. “I know you want it, but don't beg, Frederik. It's pathetic.”
Tersch grinned, showcasing sharp fangs. “Your demon wife isn't here to protect you, pretty boy. Watch what you say. I have no problem bending you over while you suck off my good buddy.” He turned to Kisho, a bright glint in his sky blue eyes. “You in? It'll be tight, but we've done it before.”
Shit. That damned mating heat again. Even Fallon looked affected, and Olivia normally satisfied his cravings.
The blare of a horn and the approach of bright lights outside saved him from answering.
Kisho cleared his throat. “Our prisoners' escorts are here. I'll take care of the transfer.” He shot out of the SUV and slammed the door behind him, willing his erection, if not away, at least down enough not to be noticeable. Hopefully the shadows from the overhead streetlamp would hide the bulge in his jeans.
Stepping forward to the cuffed mercenaries chained to the telephone pole in the center of the barren parking lot, he saw the men shiver. Fallon had forgotten to give them blankets.
Forgetful guy.
Three dark SUVs that screamed government stopped ten feet from the pole. Doors opened, and a dozen men in suits appeared and surrounded him. Not much of a threat, even with their bulky jackets that failed to mask the firearms he knew they carried.
“These them?” one bureaucrat asked. “They look cold. No blankets in this weather? They probably have hypothermia,” he said with a frown and glanced at the running SUV.
Kisho tsked. “You know, we asked them if they wanted to share the vehicle with us, but for some reason, they preferred the outdoors.” He flashed the civilian his teeth and saw the older man swallow. Amazing how a bit of fang could instill fear. And they weren't even halfway extended.
“Right. Ah, Miguel? Need your language skills, front and center.”
Miguel shouldered his way past the others and started speaking in rapid Portuguese. At first, the prisoner didn't answer. Miguel didn't raise his voice, but whatever he said had the prisoner looking from him to Kisho. He started talking, a rapid spatter of words that didn't cease.
Happy to leave the bastards to someone else, Kisho slapped Miguel on the back. Miguel nearly fell over, and Kisho caught him before he toppled over the prisoners. “I can see they're in good hands. Make sure the conscious one gets back to Mrs. Sharpe. She wants one of our team members to take a crack at him.” He watched them load the mercenaries in the van. “Best of luck, gentlemen.” He nodded and walked toward his own SUV.
Before he reached the vehicle, he turned and watched the government vans pull away until their fading taillights winked out of sight.
Overhead, the moon disappeared behind a mass of clouds. The streetlight flickered and then died. The cold made the emptiness of the space feel like the lot where he'd fallen all those months ago. Except here shouts, backfiring cars, and occasional gunfire filled the night. Not the best section of town to frequent. Then again, the way he felt, he looked forward to a scuffle.
The faint, tempting scent of cedar and mint drifted through the partially open driver's window.
Hell. They wouldn't. Not here, not now. His entire body tensed, and his cock throbbed, hard in an instant.
He quickly opened the driver's side door to the SUV and started to enter. He froze at what he saw: Tersch and Fallon in the back. Together. Fallon had his head buried in Tersch's lap.
Neither male wore pants.
Tersch groaned. “Fuck, that's it. I hate the mating heat sometimes, but not right now. Oh man, you're only getting better with practice. Olivia likes to watch you go down, doesn't she?” Kisho couldn't move, caught in a lust so extreme, it hurt.
No question. The damned mating heat was back.
“Come on, Hayashi. Shut the door, man. You're letting all the hot air out,” Tersch said on a gasp and buried his hands in Fallon's hair.
Swearing, wishing he didn't want this but wanting it more than his next breath, Kisho slammed the door shut and opened the passenger door instead, letting himself in. He closed and locked the door behind him, shucked out of his jeans, and positioned himself behind Fallon.
His beast rose to the fore, and Kisho thickened, the familiar oils of arousal secreting around his changed cockhead to make the taking easier. He consciously transformed all of himself back to normal, though it wasn't easy. He wanted to remain in control of himself for once.
He rubbed his body's natural lube up and down his cock and groaned when the scent of mint intensified. Apparently, deep throating Tersch was turning Fallon on, because his pheromones flooded the space. Not to be left out, Kisho gripped Fallon's hips, angled for penetration, and slowly pushed forward.
“Oh, yes,” he hissed and threw back his head, taken with the incredible intimacy, the sense of belonging he felt every time he fucked one of his team. Fallon's tight ass gloved him, but careful not to ram too hard, Kisho inched inside until he fully seated himself.
Fallon groaned and gasped, letting go of Tersch. “Damn, Hayashi, you fully changed or what? Man, I am stuffed. Olivia is going to be pissed she missed this.” Kisho grunted and pulled out, then pushed back inside Fallon's warmth.
“Stop talking and suck,” Tersch growled. “You know Hayashi's big when he's not changed. Big cock for a little man.”
“Little, my ass. I'm only four inches shorter than you,” Kisho growled back and started reaming Fallon harder, unable to help himself. His own arousal lingered, a subtle cinnamon that layered over the grunts and groans among them.