After putting a movie on, Zaire relaxed beside him on the sofa. Lathan smiled as he watched the man. He’d been telling the truth when he’d said he could picture him as a wild cat. Or any kind of feline, really. He stretched out on the sofa in a way that contrasted with his formal clothes, totally at ease, neither demanding attention or avoiding it. Lathan imagined the cat one of his foster parents had owned. He’d loved the furball, but he’d never been sure if it loved him back. Some days, it would rub against him, wanting to be petted. Other days it would ignore affection like it couldn’t be bothered with him.

He shifted closer to Zaire, stopping when Zaire turned to him with an easy smile. Zaire laughed, grabbed his arm, then tugged him close.

“Don’t ever hesitate with me, Lathan. I enjoy having you near.” Zaire idly stroked the back of Lathan’s neck. “I expected it to take longer before you were comfortable with my touch.”

“You’ve touched me a lot more than this over the past few weeks.” Heat spread over Lathan’s cheeks as he recalled all the times Zaire had helped him dress and undress. Had helped him get in the shower when he was concerned that Lathan would pass out from the pain. Always so clinical, so careful. The ‘touching’ now was like they’d just gone on their first date.

What he had with Zaire didn’t feel new. His touch was natural. This holding back, taking things slow, wasn’t. He wanted to rip off Zaire’s nice shirt, kiss him as he explored his sleek body, drop to his knees and…

A low growl escaped Zaire and Lathan held his breath, gaping up at the other man when he saw the golden glow of his eyes. He winced as Zaire’s fingers dug into his shoulder, nails gone to claw.

Zaire pushed him onto his back, rising over him, a deep rumble sounding in his chest. “You’re impossible to resist you when you smell like this, Lathan. Lust and need…it’s fucking intoxicating.”