“I haven’t stopped thinking about it either,” he says. “I kept wanting to say something at training, but it never felt like a good time. Abs or Snatch were always . . . there, and you neversaid anything to me. So somehow I’d convinced myself that you hadn’t meant to kiss me, that you did it because you felt sorry for me or you were drunk, or that you’ve decided since then that you hated it.”
I shake my head. “I meant to kiss you.”
He leans closer, but I brace him with a palm on his chest.
“I want to do more than just kiss you,” I say. “Like . . . it doesn’t have to be now. I’m happy with this for tonight . . . or however long you need, whatever . . . but fuck, I’ve been imagining us in some . . . situations.”
Pi laughs, then traps his bottom lip between his teeth. He cradles my face with both hands and kisses my lips softly, tenderly, as though forcing himself to take his time and make the most of every second.
“We’ll go slowly. We’ll go at your pace, because otherwise I’d have you bent over this side table,” I say.
“Fuck!” he says.
“Yeah, shit, sorry. Prime example of Exhibit A.” I’m already ballsing this up. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m fine with doing what we’re doing now. Kissing and whatnot.”
“Don’t be sorry. I like it. I like it when you say stuff like that.” He shifts his hips from left to right, evidently gauging the firmness of my dick. I’m still pitching a tent. Pi’s warm breath rushes over the exposed skin on my neck and collar. “Do you want me to make you come?”
“Oh my god.” Why are those words so hot? “Yeah. Yes, so fucking badly.”
He smiles, and his eyes flick down my chest to the front of my joggers. “So should we . . .” He takes a sharp inhale and lets it out shakily again. “Get . . . them . . . out, and like . . .”
I laugh, but I don’t recall a single time I’ve ever felt more ready for a moment to unfold. It feels like a dream. Better thana dream. It feels like all the times I switched off the lights in my bedroom, lubed up my hand, and brought up the mental image of Pi in the showers.
I can’t even bring myself to say the word “yes.” I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. Pi’s fingers reach out towards my waistband. My heart stops beating, and I’m praying I don’t bust the second he touches me.
BANG BANG BANG!
I’m pretty sure a bomb just went off outside our hotel room. Either that, or someone is using the meaty part of their fist to smash the solid door against the jamb.
BANG BANG BANG!
“Shit!” Pi yells, tearing his fingers away from me and holding his hand over his heart.
“Alright, you pair of absolute bin bags? You coming down for food or what?” It’s Abs. “What are you two even doing in there?”
“Jesus, fuck, shit,” I whisper, trying to calm my heart rate and breathing. Out for four, hold for four, in for four. My boner is not going down.
“Harry, you smelly cunt, some of us like to shower before dinner,” Pi yells. He doesn’t spare me a look before marching over to the door and throwing it wide.
I hastily position myself behind the set of drawers. It doesn’t quite cover my junk area so I grab the room service menu and hold it open. Pi snorts.
“Why’s it so dark in here? You’re not even showered yet,” Abs says. I swear his eyes flit down to the front of Pi’s joggers.
Pi digs his hand into his pocket. I think it’s a move to hide his erection, but he draws out his key card and slips it into the power slot on the wall. The lights blink on overhead and poke me in the eyeballs. I hadn’t realised how dark it had become, or how late.
Abs narrows his gaze at me, “hmms” to himself, and then his eyes grow wide. I can see the “Aha!” forming in his brain. We’vebeen rumbled already. I’ve got blue balls and now I’m about to get a grilling from Harry fucking Ellis. Great.
“What the fuck?” he says, pushing into the room.
Pi looks at me, panic etched into every single line on his face. If Harry hadn’t figured it out yet, Pi’s glance is nothing more than an admission of guilt.
“Okay, okay. I know what you two’ve been doing?” Abs says.
“You do?” The words squeak from my throat.
He walks right up to me and pokes me hard in the chest. “Yeah, I do. And I can’t believe you’re doingthat. . . without me,” he adds.
“You . . . wait, what?” This time there’s nothing but confusion in my tone.
