psychically attuned to every move Pratt made before he made it. He dug deep into the man’s neck.
After a few moments, Pratt ceased howling, then he stopped breathing as Gideon ripped his head off his body. Covered in blood, Gideon smiled through his fangs at Palmer, ready for the next round.
Palmer still hadn’t attacked, in fact, he took a few steps back and held up his hands in surrender. That lack of aggression annoyed Gideon more than if the shithead had gone for his throat.
After nudging Pratt’s body aside, Gideon leaped at Palmer, who dodged him.
The animalistic rage inside him boiled. “You’re a dead man.”
“We really don’t have time for this.” Palmer frowned. “It’s after 23:00 already.”
Gideon feinted right. Palmer predictably moved left, and Gideon tackled him, feeling his own skin continue to knit, healing and strengthening as he fought. They rolled, and Gideon tried to get a feel for the man. Palmer was large and dense in muscle, fierce, and…shielded. They wrestled, pressed body-to-body, yet Gideon still couldn’t read him, which had never before happened.
He punched, kicked, bit. They pummeled each other, and the creature inside Gideon continued to grow in strength. Despite their brawling, he hadn’t broken Palmer’s skin, which was odd. The creature inside him didn’t like that at all. Gideon continued to tear at the big man, then realized Palmer wasn’t fighting back so much as he was defending himself.
Knowing Palmer’s strength, feeling that energy yet seeing no animosity, Gideon paused and stared down at his adversary. He remained on top of Palmer, their hips flush, his legs on either side of Palmer’s holding him down.
As he met Palmer’s gaze, something alien blinked back at him. Gideon narrowed his focus, saw the outline of contacts, masking Palmer’s eyes. He shifted over Palmer, determined to figure the bastard out, and the tip of a claw pierced deep, through Palmer’s skin into his shoulder.
They both tensed.
Gideon watched, waiting for a reaction, and got none. He removed his claw and shoved Palmer’s shirt aside, watching as the guy’s skin healed in seconds. Then he glanced at the dark red blood stain on his claw. Unlike Pratt’s death scent, a sweet smell of earth and life hit him hard. Palmer smelled…right.
To Gideon’s shock, his cock swelled, a furious rush of desire making it hard to think past the need to fuck. He tried to shake it off. Had to be the effect of whatever they’d shoved into his bloodstream, because Gideon didn’t do guys. But he ached, so much…
“Oh hell.” Palmer continued to stare up at him, and Gideon swore the guy’s pupils elongated, a glow brightening behind the protection of his contacts. “Not now, Gideon.”
“When?” he heard himself say while the creature inside him took charge. Some part of him knew none of this made sense. Getting a hard-on— for a guy —while covered in blood and squirming over the freakin’ enemy could only be considered insane.
But the creature inside him refused to be silenced. It wanted, and it would have its prey, one way or the other.
Palmer must have sensed the danger in refusing, because he dragged a hand over between them, molding Gideon’s huge hard-on, then cupped his balls. “Oh yeah. You want it. You’re nice and wet.” He ran his hand over Gideon’s slick cock again.
Wet? Gideon wanted to ask questions, but the earthy scent around Palmer deepened, drugging with lust, and the creature within him took over. He leaned closer and nipped Palmer’s lower lip. The taste of the man was like nothing Gideon had ever experienced. Sultry, necessary, and fucking fantastic. Before he knew it, he was kissing the breath out of Palmer, stroking into the man’s big hand while plastered to that hard, commanding body.
Palmer rumbled beneath him with a vibrating purr that made Gideon yearn to be closer. As he ground over the guy, he felt an answering erection in Palmer’s pants. A