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the wall behind him.
    The chill of the razor iced across his neck. “Lift your chin and don’t move.”
    His stomach knotting with apprehension and arousal, Fort did as he was bid.
    Controlling his problem absorbed his entire attention. So did the heat of the tumbler’s body, his clean scent, of soap and flesh and muscle. Nothing like a woman’s soft feminine smell.
    A woman. Desperate for balance, for normalcy, he lassoed a random thought while he waited for Griff to pause. “Can Katahaya really wrap her ankles around her ears?”
    “Don’t know.” Humming under his breath, Griff drew the razor over Fort’s chin, one strong hand cradling his jaw, holding him still. “But she sure wrapped them around mine. Don ’ t move , I said !”
    “You’ve had her? But I thought—”
    “I only fuck men?”
    This time, the flush felt like a fever. Fort knew he reddened, clear to see without the protection of the whiskers. He made an indeterminate noise in his throat.
    “Then you’d be wrong,” said Griff calmly, but a drop of sweat coursed down the side of his neck. “Usually, I prefer women. I’m making an exception for you.” He ran the razor under Fort’s chin.
    Fort could scarcely believe his ears. Or his reaction. The surge of his blood was so violent, it made him lightheaded, stupid. When the other man drew back, passing a considering thumb over freshly shaved skin, he said, “Gods, Griff, you’ve got balls.”
    As soon as the words were out, he could have taken the razor and sliced his tongue off at the root. “I mean…ah, hell. Get off!” He heaved with his hips, but all that accomplished was to press his hungry cock against the tumbler’s hip.
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    Strongman
    Griff froze, exhaling in a gusty rush. “Not yet.” He plucked the towel from around Fort’s neck and wiped away the last of the foam, taking his time, grinning when Fort swore at him. “There.”
    He shifted back a little, his right hand braced on Fort’s shoulder, the razor still between his fingers. “You look… Uh, lots better. That’s how you look. Your eyes have gone all dark and smoky.” His hands clenched, closing over muscle and bone. “Fuck, I can’t do this slow anymore.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Remember the razor.”
    Griff’s lips came down on his, surprisingly soft and hot. Gods, so hot !
    The shock stiffened every muscle in Fort’s body. Especially one. In panic, he tried to jerk his head away, but Griff murmured, “Nu-uh,” into his mouth and something cold pressed under his ear. Shit, the razor! He froze and Griff chuckled.
    When he opened his mouth to curse, Griff slipped his tongue inside, humming with delight. Hot chills raced up and down Fort’s spine and then Griff curled his tongue around his and the world went away, lost in some sort of soft red explosion of lust. His fingers relaxed and the soap dish bounced to the floor. The shaving brush followed with a wet splat. Dimly, he heard a clatter as Griff tossed the razor aside, but he was completely preoccupied with the amazing sensations careering through his body. He’d never been kissed like this before, with such strength and ruthless expertise. Griff seemed to read his mind, knowing exactly when to push and when to pull, when to lick, when to suck.
    Strong fingers speared into his hair, gripping the back of Fort’s skull, tilting his head for better access. Griff pressed hard into his body, chest to chest, his cock mashed into Fort’s stomach. He shifted his hips, enough that his stiff length rubbed all along Fort’s. The coarse fabric of Fort’s working trews rasped over the sensitive head of his cock, Griff’s shaft throbbing against his, right through two layers of clothing. The other man did it again.
    Ruler God !
    White-hot instinct obliterated conscious thought. Rearing up, Fort wrapped one arm around Griff’s waist, the other around his shoulders. He took them down to the mattress, rolling so the other man was pinned beneath him,