Dawn Endeavor 2: Hayashi's Hero by Marie Harte Read Free Book Online Page A

it'll go away . But thinking about it didn't settle his nerves any.
    Morgan followed him to the vehicle, so closely, Kisho could feel his body heat.
    He glanced over his shoulder and froze. A spark of something wild lit Morgan's eyes, turning them black in the moonlight.
    Morgan bumped into him, and he stopped Kisho from falling over by gripping his waist.
    Hard.
    A noticeable erection pressed against Kisho's ass, and he fought for control. But he couldn't help the rumbled growl from his beast, wanting more.
    “Sorry. My mistake,” Morgan murmured. “I'll try not to be so clumsy tomorrow.” As if they had never touched, as if Kisho didn't know how long and hard the man was, Morgan stepped around him and joined the others.
    After a few tense breaths fought fighting his beast for control, Kisho joined them.
    The next day, he left his room early and nearly ran over Morgan, who stood waiting for him in the hall. To his dismay, Morgan smelled of soap and a musk that made his head spin, a subtle scent of citrus he wanted to inhale and never let go. The ex-merc wore shorts and a short-sleeved T-shirt and seemed impervious to the chill in the air.
    Morgan looked him up and down and grinned. “You know, for a man who hates compliments, you really show off the whole package nicely.” His own “package” stirred at Morgan's nearness, and the jackass smiled even wider.
    “Shut up and get your ass to the gym. You need a few lessons in manners.”
    “I can't wait.” They walked past Morgan's room, which irritated Kisho to no end because it was right next to his.

    Mrs. Sharpe refused to bend on that detail. Needless to say, her popularity with the team had hit an all-new low.
    They reached the empty gym, and Kisho said a prayer of thanks. Dealing with Morgan at all had become harder to bear, mostly because in the man's presence, Kisho wanted nothing more than to sample those firm lips and touch that smooth skin. A shade darker than his own, Morgan's tan spoke of the outdoors and fresh living. Kisho instinctively sensed that the man hadn't gained so much muscle from a gym, but from a life spent protecting himself from danger and wreaking havoc on those who deserved it, a notion Kisho's beast liked very much.
    Once inside the gymnasium, the men stretched out and studied each other. Kisho had less brawn and a few inches less height, but he had a Circ's strength and instinct to back him up. He'd seen Morgan's speed, but he wondered how the man would handle himself in a fight with a Circ.
    “I'm looking forward to wiping the floor with you,” Kisho growled, his mood lifting when Morgan smiled again.
    “Bring it on, Kisho.”
    Another thing. The man refused to call him by his last name. Only the women around here called him Kisho, as did his friends sometimes when they engaged in the more carnal aspects of being Circ.
    Morgan stood tall and whipped his shirt from his body, startling Kisho from his musings.
    “What the hell are you doing?” Holy shit, Morgan was ripped. Corded abs, solid pecs, and biceps bigger than his own. The thought of dominating Morgan didn't intrigue him as much as the fantasy of being dominated by him. Hell. He was getting hard again.
    Morgan licked his lips. “I want to get bare bones with you, that's all. Man-to-man. Come on, kitsu, bring it on.”
    Had he just called Kisho kitsu? Again? Before Kisho could second-guess, Morgan attacked.
    His reflexes saved him, but only just. Surprised, Kisho balanced himself on the balls of his feet, his knees bent, ready. He met Morgan's next two advances, dodging and then striking out with a kick that rocked Morgan on his ass. Before Kisho could take advantage, Morgan was on his feet again.

    Kisho raised a brow. “I'm trying to take it easy on you, because I know that handicap makes it difficult to fight back.”
    “Handicap?” Morgan questioned between breaths. He darted in and feinted left, striking to Kisho's right. His fist grazed Kisho's waist, and Kisho