The graveyard went on in long ribs of stone and hedges. But my entire world was six inches of Colt’s palm over my lips and cold slab at my spine.
Darkness folded in, a heavy cloth drawn over us.
“Quiet,” Colt said against my ear.
My mouth involuntarily answered with a sound I hadn’t intended to make. His hand swallowed it before the silent night could catch it. The calloused pad of Colt’s thumb dragged against my lower lip. It tasted of clean soap and cold air.
The weight of his body took the wind from my lungs and pressed warmth against my chest.
Travis’s shadow lurked, moving between stones. His shoulders tipped, his chin high.
He had the silhouette of someone who expected everything to move for him. To get out of his way.
Iron fences lined the far edge of the cemetery, stretched into the shape of a stitched mouth. Angels stood over the rows of graves with their faces darkened by the late hour. The endless graveyard should have felt open under the wide Chicago sky, but instead it felt claustrophobic.
Travis drifted along the row with the attention of someone hunting for a story to boast about to his drinking buddies later.
Colt leaned over me until we were one outline as wind whipped past us.
His chest rose under my mouth, his breath count measured. As if he was holding onto a wild animal that needed to run.
My body picked an unfortunate time to ignore ethics entirely. Warmth pooled inside me. Low, and refusing negotiation.
I didn’t move and tried to be made of knees and cooperation.
It should not have helped. But it helped anyway.
My cock thickened against the seam of my jeans and continued to push, hard in a place with no room for it. Denim bit and I shifted slightly to try and hide it, which nudged me further into Colt.
He firmly placed two fingers at my jaw and angled my face to point exactly where he wanted it. Not tough, not cruel.
But certain.
His thumb sat under my throat, and I could feel my pulse pound against it. My cock pushed harder into the fabric as if it were able to make space for itself. I should have been appalled.
I wasn’t.
I didn’t move while Colt caged me, letting the need burn even though it had nowhere to go.
Each inhale slid me the smallest amount along his body.
The rub made it worse in the right way.
A single rain drop fell from a clipped wing and hit the stone near my ear. Loud because everything else was quiet.
Travis paused at our row, and the silence grew sharp teeth.
Colt didn’t move an inch, and I didn’t flinch. His pulse grazed my lower lip and stayed there.
Not frantic. Not calm. But the narrow middle ground men can only keep by sheer force.
Travis’s boots rasped again and turned away. His outline thinned as fog devoured him. The sound of his footsteps dragged on for an extra minute but eventually flattened out with the rest of Chicago’s noise.
Colt kept his palm where it had been for several beats after quiet returned.
He didn’t trust it, and neither did I.
When he finally removed his hand, the air hit my lips, cold.
