[Siren Classic Manlove: Alternative, Paranormal, Suspense, Shape-shifter, MM, HEA]]
Deer shifter Leon Kinney’s first day at C.L.A.W. sees him thrown into the deep end when he catches the attention of tiger shifter, and assassin, Alistair Byrne. When one of Alistair’s colleagues tries to kill him, revealing himself to be a member of the terrorist organisation known as Pan, it’s Leon’s help he needs.
Leon knew his life would change when he left his old job working for a technology company, but he hadn’t anticipated just how much. He finds himself jetting off to Cuba to go undercover in the house of a drug lord where the only person he can trust is the assassin assigned to protect him.
Falling in love with a killer while pretending to be someone else, being held hostage, and having guns pointed at him way too often wasn’t the way Leon had imagined his life going, but as he was quickly learning, maybe he didn’t know himself as well as he thought.
“Jesus fuck!” Alistair Byrne shouted as he ducked behind the broken cement wall. The tank that was trying to kill him was making short work of his cover. The old structures had been a village once, decades ago. Now it was a ruin covered in graffiti. All crumbling cement barely held together by steel rebar.
If he was found in Russian territory he wouldn’t get sent back to the UK after answering a couple of question like with some of their allies. He’d get thrown in a hole where he’d be lucky if he ever saw the sun again.
Pulling his ear piece from his pocket, Alistair pushed it into his ear and pressed it to activate the communication device.
He was there to assassinate a hacker that had been causing problems for the shifter council, a kind of United Nations for shifters. He’d had his shot all lined up, it was going to be quick and clean, and then a bloody tank showed up.
“Agent Byrne, I’m Leon Kinney, uh, handler two-nine-one. What can I assist you with?” an unknown voice said in his ear.
Alistair froze for a second while the tank attempted to reverse. “Who the hell are you? Where’s Brady? Get me Andrew Brady, right now.”
“Um, I can’t. He’s in a meeting.”
Alistair rolled his eyes and then, seeing that the tank was readying to fire again, rolled to the next standing pillar. There was an ear-splitting bang, and he saw the small wall turn to dust in the air.
“Is that gunfire?” asked the handler in his ear.
“No, it’s not bloody gunfire,” Alistair said. “You have no idea how much I’d love some regular gunfire right now. It’s a tank.”
“I’m sorry, but are you telling me you’re being shot at by a tank?”
Alistair would have rolled his eyes again, but he was afraid to take them off the tank.
“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you, so will you please go and drag Brady out of his bloody meeting so he can talk me through getting out of here with my ass still attached?”
Alistair had been told his Scottish accent got thicker the angrier he got. Andrew Brady constantly berated him for it when he was working as his handler, insisting that he couldn’t understand what Alistair was saying when he got worked up.
“Hmm, can you tell me the make and model of the tank?” the new guy asked.
“Are you fucking with me? Hold on, I’ll just ask them to stop firing at me for a minute while I go and look at the VIN number, shall I?” Alistair said.
“Well there’s no need to be sarcastic,” Leon said, startling an incredulous laugh out of Alistair. “Let’s see if we can narrow it down. Is it dark gray or sand camo?”
Alistair steadied himself and took a quick peek at it, narrowly avoiding having his ear shot off. “Neither, it’s dark green.”
“Dark green?” Leon asked with sudden interest. “With what looks a bit like a Dalek on top?”
Even though he had never seen a single episode of Doctor Who every person in Britain at least knew what a Dalek looked like.
“Yes actually, one at the front and then a sort of double=headed one in the middle.”
“Excellent,” Leon said excitedly.
“Well, I’m glad you’re having a nice time,” Alistair said before setting off at a run and diving over another wall.
“It’s a relic, something left over from World War Two,” Leon informed him. “Do you have any explosives on you?”
“No, I don’t have any explosives on me,” Alistair shouted, starting to lose his patience. “If I had I’d have bloody well used them by now.”
“All right, well, how good of a shot are you?” Leon asked.
“Very good, but I only have a pistol and my M40, and the bullets are just standard. They barely make a dent.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Leon said. “If you can shoot a bullet into the barrel, it’ll cause the tank to explode.”
Alistair froze for a moment as he let the information wash over him. “Let me get this straight. You want me to line up the perfect shot, all while avoiding getting my head blown clean off, and fire down the barrel of a tank?”
“I mean, in theory it would work, but…no, you’re right, that’s ridiculous. I’m sure you aren’t nearly a good enough shot to be able to pull that off.”
Alistair felt himself bristle.
“For the record, I know you’re trying to use reverse psychology on me…and it’s working,” Alistair said. “All right, let’s do this. If I die horribly here, at least it’ll be attempting something cool. Tell people my story…whatever your name was.”
“Leon,” the handler reminded him.
“Well, tanks for your assistance, Leon,” Alistair said as he swung around the side of the pillar, lined up his sights, took a breath, and fired. He hadn’t actually thought he could do it which was why it took him a few seconds to duck behind cover, narrowly missing the resulting explosion.
He threw himself to the ground behind the pillar and put his arms over his head to protect himself from the resulting debris.
“Shit, I can’t believe that worked,” Alistair said, shouting a little because of the ringing in his ears.
“Did you seriously just say, tanks for your assistance?”
Alistair grinned and began brushing the dust off his clothes. “Too on the nose?”
“If you had died, then that terrible pun would have been your last words,” Leon pointed out.
“I’m okay with that,” Alistair said, still grinning.
“Jesus Christ, we can’t do this now…can we?” Leon asked. If they were truly stuck in there, and it was between Alistair eating him and Alistair fucking him, he would choose fucking every damn day. His cock was achingly hard against the damp fabric. Now that his hands were free, he could touch Alistair. He ran his fingers over Alistair’s head and down to his neck. He wanted to take off his trousers so badly, but there was still a part of him that knew he should probably try to fight this.
“I want to fuck you, and bite you, until you know you’re mine and only mine,” Alistair said, his voice a deep growl. He was becoming more and more of the tiger he was inside.
“Shit,” Leon swore, knowing he was going to give in. In his defense, the door was bolted from the outside so they probably wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon, and even if they did it was better to contain a partially shifted tiger shifter than to let him out.
His decision made, Leon grabbed Alistair’s face and kissed him, hard and hungry. He felt the sharp sting of Alistair’s canine teeth, which had apparently elongated, on his lip.
With a loud roar, Alistair pulled Leon from the chair and backed him up against the cold corrugated metal wall. He pushed his face into Leon’s neck and gave a pleased rumble as he began licking Leon’s skin.
“Alistair,” Leon moaned. “Talk to me. I need to know you’re still in there.”
The sound that came out of Alistair’s lips was positively feline. It was somewhere between a growl and a purr, and it vibrated through his whole body.
“I want you so much it hurts,” Alistair told him. His words made Leon’s body weak.
With clawed hands Alistair tore off Leon’s shirt. Considering they had left everything they had with them back at Maria’s father’s vineyard, Leon had enough of his wits left about him to bemoan the loss of his only shirt.
“Wait,” Leon said, before Alistair could do the same to his trousers. Alistair did as Leon said, but he growled his disapproval right in Leon’s face. It should have frightened him, but he didn’t feel afraid, not of Alistair, not anymore.
He quickly unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down before Alistair’s patience ran out. With an appreciative rumble Alistair dropped to his knees, yanked down Leon’s underwear, and began nuzzling at Leon’s already aching dick.
“Fuck, Alistair,” Leon cried out. Just the sight of the man on his knees in front of him was almost enough to make him come. “Please watch those teeth.”
The slight risk of accidental grazing did nothing to hamper his desire. Any trepidation Leon might have felt melted away as the tiger shifter’s tongue slowly and methodically began licking his cock.
Leon let his head fall back against the cool metal wall and let himself feel every swipe of that wonderful tongue.
“Oh God,” he groaned as a clawed finger scratched lightly down his thigh. “Yes.”
Alistair’s tongue went lower, wetting his balls before sucking on them just hard enough to make Leon gasp. Alistair laved and sucked at his balls until they ached.
Without warning or ceremony, Leon was turned around and shoved against the wall with a hand on his back holding him in place.
That tongue that had just been tormenting him delved straight into his entrance, poking and jabbing against Leon’s asshole desperately like he expected to find his own relief in doing so.
With his face pressed against the wall, Leon bit his lip and tried to concentrate on the soothing cold of the corrugated metal. It felt too good, and Leon didn’t want to come before Alistair was inside him. Without any supplies he knew this was the only prep he was going to get. He was going to ache like hell afterward, but in the moment he didn’t care.
“Fuck me,” he whimpered as Alistair’s tongue wriggled inside him. “Christ, Alistair, I need you to fuck me.”
A guttural happy sound escaped the tiger shifter. He gripped Leon by the hips and licked over his hole one last time before standing back up. Leon expected Alistair to bend him over and take him just like that, but he didn’t. Instead he turned Leon round and ripped at his own trousers until they fell to the ground in tatters.
Without saying a word the tiger shifter placed his hands on the cheeks of Leon’s ass and lifted him up so that Leon had no choice but to wrap his legs around Alistair’s waist.
They were face-to-face, making it so that Leon could get a better look at how the partial shift had changed Alistair’s face. His eyes were burning orange orbs with twin black slits, and his teeth were sharp.
Leon put his hands on Alistair’s shoulders and willed his body to relax. All he could do was hold on and enjoy the ride.
Alistair thrust up, stabbing straight into Leon’s body. It burned and it was uncomfortable for a few long seconds before he adjusted. Alistair buried his face in the skin of Leon’s neck and let out a deep purr as he began to shallowly thrust his hips, rolling them slowly.
The burn became entwined with something much better, and soon all Leon could do was give into the intense pleasure that flooded his body. He had never had sex like this before, partially shifted and wild. Everything in the world boiled down to them and that moment.