Sergei Tavrovsky is considered a recluse by those who cross his path on campus at Amurskova University, located just outside the Russian Taiga Forest. It’s a perception that fits the university’s AV and computer tech guy just fine. It means he’s successfully crafted his life to protect the secrets of who he is and what he becomes when the moon is full.
When Grigorij Sokoloff, the friendly and sexy biology professor, storms Sergei’s quiet citadel to engage him fully in life, Sergei is forced to decide if loving this man is worth the risk that Grigorij might die.
Heat Level: 2
Length: Novella (27k words)
Read a short excerpt...
...Sokoloff rubbed his hands together, as if to warm them, and then he walked around the room and studied the framed photographs on the walls. “Spectacular. They aren’t signed, but I can tell they’re by the same man. Are they yours?”
Sergei watched him and knew his compliment was genuine. He nodded and dropped his gaze.
“You’re very gifted.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Hot tea sounds wonderful. I’ll take the biscuit, too, please.”
“Water’s hot. Come.” Sergei stepped into the kitchenette and Sokoloff followed. He pulled another tea glass from a cupboard, set it in a fancy metal holder, and poured some of the concentrated tea in it. He turned the glass, so his guest could take it by its handle, and then gestured toward the samovar’s spigot.
Sokoloff tried to turn the spigot lever instead of lifting it up. On impulse, Sergei placed his hand on the other man’s and demonstrated. Again, the sense of connection sparked through him as his skin made contact with Sokoloff’s skin. He jerked his hand back, and for a moment, neither of them moved or spoke.
The professor moved first, letting the hot water dilute the tea to his taste and, still, neither of them said a word.
Sergei slid a biscuit onto a small plate and they returned to the table. Sokoloff sat in a chair behind the leather pouch he’d laid out there, so Sergei set the plate in front of him.
Avoiding further physical contact, Sergei didn’t sit next to his guest. He put one foot on a chair at the end of the table and held his tea on his knee. Even then he was close enough to look down on Sokoloff’s head of thick, dark hair, which was as neatly trimmed as his beard and mustache. As he studied the finely shaped fingers holding the biscuit and glass, the sense that he knew something more about him cropped up again. What that something was stubbornly refused to be remembered.
As he watched the sensual shape of enticing lips close on the rim to sip the steaming liquid, emotions stirred at his center and his pants grew too tight as his dick began to harden. He looked away.
Sokoloff shut his eyes and put his head back. “Hmm. Perfect. I like it strong and hot. Is it Russian Caravan?”
Sergei nodded, wondering why the response pleased him as much as it did. It was such a silly thing. What could it possibly matter that they liked the same type of tea?
They sat in comfortable silence until they’d almost finished their tea, then Sergei nodded toward the leather satchel on the table. “Tell me about your project.”
The professor sprang to life with an enthusiasm Sergei could almost feel.
“What do you know about Siberian tigers?”
Sergei choked on his tea...