I’ve never kissed a man before. I’ve never wanted to. But this feels inevitable, like every moment leading up to this was just preparation, just waiting for this exact second when Gabriel would kiss me and I would kiss him back and everything would finally make sense.
His hands are in my hair now, tugging, and I make a sound that’s embarrassingly close to a groan. He swallows it, his tongue sliding against mine, and my knees nearly give out. I press closer, one hand moving to the back of his neck, holding him to me like I’m afraid he’ll disappear if I let go.
Thunder cracks above us, loud and sharp, and I pull back. My chest is heaving, my lips tingling, and Gabriel’s face is inches from mine, his eyes half-lidded and dark.
“We need to get inside.”
Gabriel nods, but he doesn’t let go of me. His fingers are still twisted in my shirt, his grip tight.
I reach down and take his hand, threading our fingers together. His palm is warm and wet against mine, and when I pull him toward the villa, he follows.
8
Marshall
We slam the door shut and stand there panting in the darkened hallway. Water drips from our clothes onto the tile floor, pooling around our feet. The sound of the rain is muffled now, just white noise behind the pounding of my pulse. Gabriel’s chest is heaving, and he’s staring at me with wide eyes that catch what little light filters in from the window at the end of the hall. His lips are parted, swollen from kissing, and I want to taste them again so badly my hands shake.
“Marshall,” he starts.
I don’t let him finish.
I crowd him against the door, pressing my body to his, and kiss him again. His back hits the wood with a dull thud, and he makes a sound that’s half gasp, half moan. I cup his face with both hands, tilting his head back, and he parts his lips, letting me in. His mouth is warm and desperate, and I kiss him like I’ve been starving for it, like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this exact moment.
Our hands are everywhere. His fingers tangle in my wet hair, tugging hard enough to sting, and I groan into his mouth. My hands slide down his neck to his shoulders, gripping the soaked fabric of his shirt. The silk is slippery under my palms,and I want it gone. I want everything gone. I want to feel his skin against mine with nothing between us.
I find the buttons of his shirt and start working them open, my fingers clumsy. The first one pops free, then the second. Gabriel makes another low and needy sound and arches into me. I get the third button undone, then the fourth, and I pull the shirt apart, exposing the smooth planes of his chest.
He’s gorgeous. I’ve seen him shirtless before, but this is different. This is my hands on his bare skin, my thumbs brushing over his ribs, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath. I slide my palms up his chest, and his skin is warm despite the rain, heated under my touch.
My thumbs find his nipples and I flick them, just a light touch, testing.
Gabriel moans and arches harder into me, his head falling back against the door. “Marshall—”
I do it again, circling my thumbs over the tight buds, and he shudders. His hands are gripping my shoulders now, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. I kiss his jaw, his throat, tasting rain and salt.
Then he breaks the kiss, turning his head to the side, his voice coming out strained. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
I freeze for half a second, my thumbs still on his nipples, and then I push my thigh between his legs. He’s hard, straining against his wet pants, and the evidence of his arousal sends a bolt of heat straight through me.
Gabriel groans at the contact, his hips jerking forward.
I lean in close, my lips brushing his ear. “Give me a reason why we shouldn’t.”
His breath hitches. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m not.” My voice is steady and certain. I pull back just enough to meet his eyes, and I can see the conflict there, the want battling with the fear. “I’m perfectly aware of what I’m doing.”
I lean down and kiss his exposed throat, dragging my tongue over the raindrops clinging to his skin. His pulse hammers under my lips, and I feel the vibration of his groan against my mouth.
“You’ll regret this in the morning,” Gabriel says, but his voice is weaker now, less convinced.
“I won’t.” I press the words into his skin, kissing along his collarbone, up the side of his neck. “I know it in my bones. I’ll never regret this.”
He shudders, his hands clutching at my shoulders. “Marshall, we’re stepbrothers. We can’t do this.”
I pull back and look at him again. “No one else is here to see us,” I say quietly.
Gabriel stares at me for a long moment, and I can see him running out of arguments and reasons to push me away. His mouth opens, closes, and then he just whispers, “Marshall, please…”
