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Rain and leather.
And shock.
Smith’s eyes snapped wide and he forced his hands up between them to brace his forearms against Fal’ran’s chest. But Fal’ran wrapped his legs around the human’s narrow waist and pulled his hips down, searching for contact.
“Fuck,” Smith bit back a groan and his eyebrows pinched together when Fal’ran rolled his hips up. “What are you—” His hard length thrusted against Fal’ran’s and desire throbbed through Fal’ran’s veins. God, he’d never smelled anything so good in his life. He bucked up and heard Smith’s strangled gasp in his ear, followed by a furious growl. “Goddamnit, Fal’ran.”
Pain shot up Fal’ran’s wrist to his shoulder and a hard forearm dug into his windpipe. He choked and grabbed at it, but Smith dug it in deeper until Fal’ran went limp in submission.
“Time,” Smith spat before stumbling up onto his feet, lifting his muscular body off Fal’ran and taking his intoxicating scent with him. But Fal’ran didn’t even feel the sting of losing. He looked up from the flat of his back at Smith—at his heaving chest, his defiant blue eyes, and the bulge in his pants—and felt nothing but exhilaration. Smith glowered at him, then shook his head and took a step back. “Your fucking attitude, Fal’ran.”
He turned around and jerked his chin at Bar’in and Tar. “You two are dismissed.”
Fal’ran pushed himself up to a sitting position and ignored the glances Tar and Bar’in shot him as they shuffled out the door. Instead, he watched Smith’s back and the red burning up the back of his neck and over his ears. When he lifted his nose into the air to scent him, fresh rain and supple leather flooded Fal’ran’s senses again. How had he ever missed that? He’d spent two weeks under Smith’s command. How had he missed the man’s mouth-watering smell?
But even as Fal’ran stared at his captain’s back, his scent faded along with the red from the tops of his ears. The hard line of his spine eased as the door shut behind Tar, and he turned back to Fal’ran.
Fal’ran lifted his chin at Smith and let a challenging smile twist around his tusks. “You ready to go again?”
Smith rewarded him with a flash of frustration through his blue eyes, and his upper lip lifted in a snarl. But his words pulled Fal’ran up short. “You could be something great.”
Fal’ran stared at him.
The words crawled through the thick jungle air towards him as he sat, dumbfounded, on the sweat-slick sparring mat. They landed on him syllable by syllable and sank into his skin, but Fal’ran still blinked in confusion as he tried to be sure Smith had really said what it sounded like he’d said.
Smith dropped to his haunches to look Fal’ran in the eye. “That’s right. You heard me.”
Fal’ran’s spine bristled. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” There was an insult in those words somewhere. There had to be.
But Smith held his gaze without a hint of mockery. “You’re fast and you’re strong and you have the sort of instincts I’ve only seen a few times in my life, Fal’ran.”
Fal’ran clenched his fists on the ground beside him to hide their shaking. He hated how much he wanted to believe Smith. Did he mean it? He searched Smith’s face, trying to find the lie and the trick, but all he saw was an earnestness that made Fal’ran’s heart twist up. He inhaled through his nose and Smith’s lips quirked.
“What are you trying to smell?”
“The ‘but’,” Fal’ran replied. And the rain, but he kept that to himself.
“I’ve already told you the ‘but’.” Smith chuckled as he stood. “But your fucking attitude is holding you back.”
“My fucking attitude got me here.” Fal’ran clamored to his feet when Smith made a move for the door.
“Maybe it did, but it won’t get you any farther.” Smith turned to walk away, but Fal’ran caught his arm.
“Then what will?”
Smith stiffened when Fal’ran’s hand closed around his biceps and his scent spiked again with rain and leather. He glanced down at Fal’ran’s grip on him before scowling up at Fal’ran’s face. “A better one.”
“What does that even mean?” Fal’ran didn’t want to let Smith go. He wanted to scent him again. He wanted to pin him down and be pinned by him. He wanted to make Smith hard again.
“It means stop being an over-confident little shit.” Smith scowled as though he could smell him and yanked his arm away.
But Fal’ran tightened his grip so that instead of pulling away, Smith pulled them chest to chest and there was that rich scent Fal’ran had been looking for. “It’s only over-confidence if I lose.”
“I’ve already beaten you once today.” Smith raised an eyebrow, then reversed the grip Fal’ran had on him and bent Fal’ran’s wrist around the wrong way. “Isn’t that enough?”
The familiar rush of a fight coupled with unabashed lust surged into Fal’ran’s belly as pain spasmed over his joints. He licked his lips and didn’t imagine it when Smith’s striking eyes followed the motion. “Do it again.”
Indecision warred across Smith’s handsome face. His grip on Fal’ran’s wrist tightened. Finally, his scent flooded over Fal’ran, full of a heady excitement that knocked Fal’ran on his ass. “Fine.”
