Page 5 of Too Many Beds

Storm screwed his face up in flustered bewilderment. “Why would we needthat?”

Kodiak shrugged. “If you want to do it dry, it’s your asses, not mine.”

“What?” Storm squeaked in unison with Ryder.

The look Kodiak gave them was unimpressed. “Did you honestly think we were offering you two hundred dollars an hour to…sleep?” He snorted. “We have to ensure our beds hold up to the most strenuous of fuckings before they go on the market. They’ve got to be durable enough to handle a shifter, but also soft enough for post-knotting comfort.”

Storm’s jaw dropped. “You expect me to… to…sleepwithhim? But I’mstraight!” He looked at Ryder, his gaze sliding over that tight, lithe body. Fuck, he was going to be fun to play with.

“Storm.” Brandt’s booming voice barged into the scene. “You’re supposed to be straight. Try that again without eye-fucking Ryder in the process.”

Oh, right. Storm shook himself.

He repeated the line, clutching his chest in horror, then ad-libbed, “And he’s a… aman!”

The corner of Ryder’s mouth twitched.

“Well observed,” Kodiak said. “Do you want the money or not? We can call the next two applicants on our list if you don’t.”

Storm nearly chuckled at the parallels to his conversation with Daniel. Instead, he and Ryder sized each other up, grimacing as they came to the realization that, while this wasn’t the job they’d thought they’d be doing, times—and a few other things—were indeed hard, so they should probably fill any position they were being offered.

“Cut!” Brandt said. “Perfect. Let’s move on to the coin toss to decide who gets head and who gets tail.”

Ryder’s shoulders shook almost imperceptibly as he suppressed a laugh, and Storm couldn’t have agreed more. Where did the MateHub writers come up with this shit?

Storm eyed Ryder, and they both started to undress.

As he pulled his shirt over his head, Ryder’s gaze was on him, trailing over the defined muscles of his abs.

Did he like that? Storm smirked at him and popped the button on his jeans before easing his zipper down. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband to shimmy them off. Ryder wet his lips and began to unbutton his shirt, slowly, teasingly, revealing sun-kissed skin with every button.

“Cut!” Brandt yelled. “No, no, no. Straight guys do not give stripteases to other straight guys! This should be awkward! Take it from the top!”

Storm sighed and put his shirt on so he could remove it again, keeping his movements jerky and fumbling until they were standing there, naked, hands covering their dicks.

“What are you waiting for?” Kodiak’s tone was gruff and no-nonsense. “Get to work.”

Ryder hesitated. He glanced at the bed, then at Storm.

“You aren’t backing out on me now, are you?” Storm gritted out. “I need this money, man.”

“No. I just…” Ryder looked downright bashful, not meeting his eye. It was adorable. “I’ve never… you know… with someone I haven’t…”

“Someone you haven’t?”

Ryder rushed to say his next line. “Someone I haven’t kissed.”

Storm’s character, in all his extremely heterosexual wisdom, decided the most obvious solution to this problem was to kiss his coworker. As straight guys were wont to do.

One hand still covering his dick—mostly covering… okay, partially covering—Storm reached out with the other and threaded his fingers through Ryder’s long hair, then yanked him close. Their mouths met in an ungraceful clash of lips and teeth.

Storm inhaled, and Ryder’s scent flooded his senses—the flicker of lightning over water, a trace of sea salt carried by the breeze. His wolf surged forward, a rumble building in his chest. Electricity sparked on his skin, and he angled Ryder’s head to deepen the kiss, delving into his mouth. Ryder opened for him, their tongues tangling, their bodies moving closer, pressing together as they?—

“Try that again,” Brandt called out.

Storm jerked away from Ryder. They blinked owlishly at each other. That had been… unexpected. He’d never filmed with a mage who didn’t make his nose itch. Ryder’s magic hung around him, a mantle that draped over him, unseen but tangible. Foronce, it was a unique perfume, not the harsh reek Storm had expected. He wouldn’t even mind if this scent lingered on him after the scene.

“And no growling, Storm,” Brandt added. “Straight guys don’t growl possessively when they kiss their male coworkers!”

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