“It started that way.” I shift, closing a meager extra inch of space to chase off that look of doubt. “But it wouldn’t be this consuming if that was all it still was. If you weren’t also the guy who went to that bar in the first place, knowing you’d get exactly what you wanted. If you weren’t also brave and caring and so fucking quick-witted you give me a run for my money. You’re challenging and entrancing and yeah, you’ve got some issues, but god, don’t we all. The fantasy of you was pretty great—but everything I’ve gotten to know about the real you is so much better.”
I stop talking, because I can’t breathe, hearing what I said—that wasa lot,like all the crap rattling around in my head that I was trying really hard tokeep to myself.But here it all is now, churning in the air between us, to whatever end, and my pulse is hammering in my wrists so hard that my arm twitches in Hex’s grip.
He’s barely moved. His eyes are fixed on me, and he whispers something I don’t catch over the roaring of blood in my ears.
“What did you say?” It comes out as a rumble. Weird, feral anger that isn’t anger butisbecause he’s up against my body and not close enough.
We’re alone in his room. Nothing I’ve ever done has felt as carnal as being this close to him with walls between us and anyone else.
He works the fingers of his other hand through the edge of my button-up, hooking his grip in and fisting it against my chest. “Kiss me,” he tells me.
Yes, yes,god yes.
His eyes shut, his lips part, gasping, gasping, and I drink that breath, lap up this energy he lets me have, until I rest my lips on the corner of his mouth.
He smells like sweet citrus and spice again, and I chase that scent, tugging aside the collar of his shirt and his loosened tie to drop my mouth to his neck. I don’t think he was expecting me to go straight for his neck and he croons, a syrupy warble of a moan that rockets up the list of my favorite noises. My knees go fully liquid, body assaulted on one side from that moan and another from the scent of him, this is the origin of that burnt-sugar cinnamon orange aphrodisiac, resting right over the rapid-fire beat of his pulse.
Fingers under his chin, I tilt his head, giving my lips more access. His reaction is far more controlled now, a discreet catch of breath that feels like a challenge. I work my lips up the side of his throat, slow open-mouthed kisses, and he shudders but stays quiet, and ohfuckno.
I know what he sounds like now. These discreet little breath-sips just won’t do.
My lips climb higher, and I pull his hair out of its knot so it’s messy and I can twine my fingers in it.
“How much?” I dip my tongue against the shell of his ear. Fuck, his taste will ruin me.
“How—how much what?” His throat bobs. I hear the rasp of his swallow.
“How much do you want me to kiss you?”
“Rather—” He stutters. “Rather badly, it would seem.”
I smile, pressing that smile to the side of his face. “No, sweetheart—I mean howmuch,how far, because I’m hanging by a threadhere and I need you to tell me where the finish line is before I shove us both out into the race.”
“Race.”
“Mm.”
“Planning to throw me off a sleigh again?”
A low, predatory growl throbs in my chest, but I’m grinning, and I walk us backwards. Just one step. Almost to the wall, to something I can push him up against.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I—I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t know. I haven’t… done this… much. In a while. I have done this. Not excessively. I—” He looks up at the ceiling. “I am done speaking now.”
I pull back. “You not talking doesn’t work for me. I need to know what you’re thinking, and I’ll ask, but the moment,the moment,itborderson uncomfortable for you,you tell me.”
He nods. Nods again.
“What I want isyouwanting this,” I say, low, I can’t seem to speak any higher, not with the heat welling in my chest—if I talk too loud, we’ll both combust. “That’s my finish line. You.”
“All right.” His voice is hoarse. He nods again, more desperately.
“Where should I start?” I ask into his cheek.
He whimpers and grabs my lips with his. I cup his head in my hands and open his mouth with my tongue and goose bumps prickle up my arms, down across my back, thighs shaking, eyelids heavy with fervor.
Everything in my life is spinning out around me, but the most irreversible part of it all is what he’s doing to me.
