looked up when he pushed the laptop closed. “What the fuck?”
“Time for a break.” He grinned, wiggling, trying to entice Yves to play.
“I’m... a break?” Those emerald eyes were stunning and Reuben wanted them fastened on him again.
“Yep. I might even feed you. How do you feel about General Tso?”
“I love spicy.”
“I knew it!” He could order enough for an army after they romped. Yves had to know how to tear around. Here kitty. Chase the puppy. Reuben began to strip.
“I’m not playing with you.” The low rumble in Yves’ chest proved differently, though.
“No?” He kicked out of his pants, then set clothes and boots aside. He closed his eyes, calling on the wolf to come.
He felt the answering music of a change, the cat in Yves brought out like a dream.
His wolf self sniffed the air, the cat musk strong, making him bark, his tail waving like a flag.
Yves stood on the table, peering down at him, whiskers twitching madly. That tail lashed back and forth, Yves’ hindquarters vibrating visibly.
Reuben barked sharply, knowing that might throw Yves off balance a moment, then he took off for the other end of the building.
He heard claws scrabbling furiously on wood, then the thump of a body hitting the floor. Woo. He knew that jaguar body could beat his wolf in a flat out race, but this was about strategy.
Strategy and fun. His favorite things. He heard the low growl and feinted left before ducking right.
He skidded when Yves caught him with a paw, the claws carefully avoided when the blow landed. He barked out his surprise and pleasure at the catch. Good kitty!
Yves yowled for him, then turned and leaped away, letting him give chase this time.
Oh. Oh, running! Running! He hauled after that fine sleek ass, hunting Yves’ tail. Irresistible, it was, so fluffy.
He nipped the very tip and Yves turned on a dime, bashing at him with those heavy paws, claws carefully sheathed.
Reuben stumbled back, tail waving, and put his head down, his butt up. He barked, taunting.
Yves roared for him, and that sound gave him chills. Neat! The whole room seemed to vibrate with the noise, making his paws wiggle.
He shared his howl. It only seemed fair. Yves was singing for him.
They stared at each other, those glowing green eyes catching his gaze. Yves plopped to the ground, rolling over to expose his soft, fuzzy belly.
Reuben gave up playing and went to sniff, unable to resist all that fuzz. Yves wrapped around him, batting at him harmlessly before leaning hard and biting his ear.
His breath whooshed out for a moment, those legs surprisingly heavy.
The bite turned into ear cleaning and then grooming. Again. Yves was obsessed. He guessed kitties were way more clean-freaky than wolves.
Maybe he should return the favor. He threw himself on Yves and nibbled the heavy ruff.
Yves broke out into hard purring, paws kneading the air.
Okay, that was adorable. Completely. Total slut Yves, just blissed out and kittenish. He kept on grooming and touching. So much nicer than trying to raise the dead. Possibly less gross, too, though there was a lot of drool going on here.
Yves swatted him lazily in a plain order to pay attention.
Right. Grooming. Licking. Furballs.
All the good stuff.
And no resurrections to speak of.
Chapter Three
Come on. Come on. Yves was deep in his research, searching madly for the final pieces of the ritual.
All the signs pointed to them being here, in town bordered by the rivers, the magical city.
He just needed a hint, someone to slip up.
Yves blinked, his eyes so tired. Reuben had finally fallen asleep, leaving him time to work uninterrupted. Reuben. There was something weirdly undeniable about him, something about the goofy, happy son of a bitch that drew Yves. Reuben was a terrible threat, making him want to forget everything else.
He couldn’t do that. Girard deserved this. Deserved better.
Yves bent his head to his work, running one search after another. A pattern began
“Time for a break.” He grinned, wiggling, trying to entice Yves to play.
“I’m... a break?” Those emerald eyes were stunning and Reuben wanted them fastened on him again.
“Yep. I might even feed you. How do you feel about General Tso?”
“I love spicy.”
“I knew it!” He could order enough for an army after they romped. Yves had to know how to tear around. Here kitty. Chase the puppy. Reuben began to strip.
“I’m not playing with you.” The low rumble in Yves’ chest proved differently, though.
“No?” He kicked out of his pants, then set clothes and boots aside. He closed his eyes, calling on the wolf to come.
He felt the answering music of a change, the cat in Yves brought out like a dream.
His wolf self sniffed the air, the cat musk strong, making him bark, his tail waving like a flag.
Yves stood on the table, peering down at him, whiskers twitching madly. That tail lashed back and forth, Yves’ hindquarters vibrating visibly.
Reuben barked sharply, knowing that might throw Yves off balance a moment, then he took off for the other end of the building.
He heard claws scrabbling furiously on wood, then the thump of a body hitting the floor. Woo. He knew that jaguar body could beat his wolf in a flat out race, but this was about strategy.
Strategy and fun. His favorite things. He heard the low growl and feinted left before ducking right.
He skidded when Yves caught him with a paw, the claws carefully avoided when the blow landed. He barked out his surprise and pleasure at the catch. Good kitty!
Yves yowled for him, then turned and leaped away, letting him give chase this time.
Oh. Oh, running! Running! He hauled after that fine sleek ass, hunting Yves’ tail. Irresistible, it was, so fluffy.
He nipped the very tip and Yves turned on a dime, bashing at him with those heavy paws, claws carefully sheathed.
Reuben stumbled back, tail waving, and put his head down, his butt up. He barked, taunting.
Yves roared for him, and that sound gave him chills. Neat! The whole room seemed to vibrate with the noise, making his paws wiggle.
He shared his howl. It only seemed fair. Yves was singing for him.
They stared at each other, those glowing green eyes catching his gaze. Yves plopped to the ground, rolling over to expose his soft, fuzzy belly.
Reuben gave up playing and went to sniff, unable to resist all that fuzz. Yves wrapped around him, batting at him harmlessly before leaning hard and biting his ear.
His breath whooshed out for a moment, those legs surprisingly heavy.
The bite turned into ear cleaning and then grooming. Again. Yves was obsessed. He guessed kitties were way more clean-freaky than wolves.
Maybe he should return the favor. He threw himself on Yves and nibbled the heavy ruff.
Yves broke out into hard purring, paws kneading the air.
Okay, that was adorable. Completely. Total slut Yves, just blissed out and kittenish. He kept on grooming and touching. So much nicer than trying to raise the dead. Possibly less gross, too, though there was a lot of drool going on here.
Yves swatted him lazily in a plain order to pay attention.
Right. Grooming. Licking. Furballs.
All the good stuff.
And no resurrections to speak of.
Chapter Three
Come on. Come on. Yves was deep in his research, searching madly for the final pieces of the ritual.
All the signs pointed to them being here, in town bordered by the rivers, the magical city.
He just needed a hint, someone to slip up.
Yves blinked, his eyes so tired. Reuben had finally fallen asleep, leaving him time to work uninterrupted. Reuben. There was something weirdly undeniable about him, something about the goofy, happy son of a bitch that drew Yves. Reuben was a terrible threat, making him want to forget everything else.
He couldn’t do that. Girard deserved this. Deserved better.
Yves bent his head to his work, running one search after another. A pattern began
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