STORY EXCERPT

Thus far, Aran Aquino had been elusive to the point of being a living mystery and a virtual no-show. Had his entourage not been onboard this super-luxury yacht, Donovan might have believed Aquino of being either invisible or absent altogether. Though Donovan worked for him and was supposed to keep him safe, thus far they hadn’t spoken, met face-to-face, or even passed by each other on the jet or on the yacht.

Was he avoiding Donovan, or one or all of his staff? Was this a quirk of character or a sign of a permanently high-maintenance personality? Wouldn’t a man used to being in the limelight want to be the center of attention all the time? Donovan could only hope Aquino had a level head on his shoulders, plus enough common sense to yield command of this situation to a consummate professional like Donovan.

Or perhaps the wee cat shifter was just shy.

Two minutes later, considering the ship was so big to navigate through, Donovan stood outside the main cabin. In front of him Sara knocked once and, without waiting to be bidden entry, opened the door and stood aside to let him pass.

“Good luck, Mr. Donovan,” Sara whispered to him, winking as he walked in. Donovan replied with a lopsided grin.

As soon as Donovan was firmly inside, Sara excused herself and closed the door behind him.

Donovan had no idea what to expect. All he’d seen of Aquino were beautiful pictures. Aquino had been in seclusion throughout the trip, at first in the backroom of the jet and then below deck on the yacht, so there’d been no personal face-to-face contact. Donovan wasn’t a newbie when it came to private protection. Aquino was a top supermodel, so Donovan had every reason to expect the worst.

The main cabin took over a notable chunk of the yacht’s second floor bow section. A short corridor, with a private bathroom on the left, led to a well-lit, dark wood-paneled room, with a plump king-size bed dominating the space. Little round lights from the white ceiling reflected off the gleaming wooden surfaces, completed by a white carpet that felt heavenly soft on Donovan’s bare feet. A white couch framed the wall on the right and a vanity with a large mirror reigned on the left.

Donovan had never seen so much opulence in his life. He wasn’t fond of crowds, noise or fancy things that separated him from the wild and the natural. As nice as it was to get anything he asked from the able-bodied service staff, he refused to let any of it go to his head. The assignment, as far as Donovan was concerned, would last two weeks, and no more. That was what he’d signed up for. He wouldn’t tolerate a single second beyond that.

“Hello?” he called out to announce himself so his client wouldn’t get startled or spooked. Donovan was kind of big.

A single figure sat on the edge of the bed, with his legs crossed and perched over the vanity chair. He wore nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs, tight against his skin and stretching snugly over a bulging crotch. He leaned back on his hands, his lean, lithe, utterly hairless body in full view, and his caramel skin held a youthful glow.

His probably natural black hair, since he had distinct Asian features, was dyed golden blond and cut extremely short. He had startlingly full, luscious lips and under his black eyebrows shone spring green eyes. He appeared younger than his twenty-five years suggested.

In all honesty, Donovan thought, this man was a jumble of ethnicities, showcasing the very best in physical qualities. Naturally, youth and beauty added to the rare mix.

The biggest problem, however, was the overbearing scent lingering in the room.

Oh, how Donovan wished then that a new foul, disgusting odor came from the abysmal cat, so he could have wrinkled his nose and with disdain ignored the stench.

Unfortunately the encompassing and oh so alluring sweet scent came from his mate.

ADULT EXCERPT

“Oh God, yesss…,” Aran whimpered, his hips bucking, trying to get closer and deeper inside Donovan’s eager, relentless mouth.

Letting Aran’s dick drop from his mouth with a lascivious plop, Donovan chuckled in his irritatingly arrogant way. Aran fully expected the man to comment about his godlike abilities in cocksucking.

But Donovan stuffed his face into Aran’s crotch, sniffing his balls, mashing his face against them, and rubbing his scruffy stubble on them, and even nipping at them. A low continuous, satisfied growl emerged from his throat so Aran figured he liked what he smelled and felt.

“Fuck, your smell’s driving me crazy,” Donovan muttered, and took Aran’s nuts into his mouth, laving around the sack with his tongue till the balls dripped saliva, and with Donovan’s mouth still on them, he yanked gently with soft suction and a hint of teeth. The danger of pain was present, adding to Aran’s thrill.

Aran could have come from that alone. “Sweet Jesus, don’t stop,” he pleaded hoarsely, thrashing around on the bed.

He threaded his fingers through Donovan’s hair, tugging when he could and caressing in gratitude. It had been ages since a man had last given him head. To give himself freely to a man unafraid to touch him was a heady experience, leaving Aran a shaking mess on the bed. His hands clutched the sheets as his body went through the wringer, pleasure his sole sensation and his cock his sole focal point.

He couldn’t take much more, not when it’d been so long since he’d been touched like this. “Silas, want you to fuck me. Please. Don’t leave me hanging. Want you in me now.” He didn’t care how shameless he sounded. Aran needed to get fucked.

Donovan pulled up, licking his lips obscenely, his eyes aglow with lust and hunger. To be the object of desire for such a powerful man was Aran’s dream come true. Donovan nodded and said, “Okay. We’ll do it the other way around next time.”

His sweet promise had Aran’s toes curling. “Come one, Silas. Now.”

“Topping from the bottom, eh, puss?” Donovan’s assertive chuckle was all man, pure unfiltered masculinity.

Aran almost creamed himself right then and there. Only his unyielding fist closing around the base of his cock did the trick and staved off the inevitable explosion. Well, that plus the use of the affectionate term Donovan used and which Aran found mildly insulting. But also kind of cute.

“Lube?” Donovan’s question met with Aran’s hazy brain but he finally managed to nod toward the bedside table. Donovan lunged for the drawer and snatched a full tube of lubricant with gusto. No doubts about his eagerness, Aran concluded. “Thanks.”

Donovan’s voice was rough and his hands shook as he fumbled with the cap. If Aran’d had any doubts about their coupling, the last shreds vaporized as he watched with sympathy at the man, tip of his tongue peeking between his lips as he concentrated on getting the cool gel out of the tube and onto his hands instead of all over the comforter.

Aran loved watching a man lube up his erect cock. The light sloshing sound, the dark cock protruding upward like the bow of a ship, the rich odor of a man’s pre-cum and arousal. All these things put together brought Aran to his knees in adulation of the wonders of gay sex.