Page 59 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

“Isn’t it?”

“If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen. But⁠—”

“It’s important you know what you’re getting into, Steven.”

For a few moments, Steven said nothing, watching out the window and sipping his drink. Somewhere beyond where Myles could see, a crow let out an unholy racket. Steven scowled out the window, then sat up and pushed the window curtains together, shutting off his view of the street. He took both their mugs, set them on the floor, then crawled forward until his lips were inches from Myles’s. “You should let me decide about what I want to get myself into, yeah?”

“No. I mean of course.” Myles winced at himself. “I mean…” He sighed. “I don’t know what I mean.”

“Stop talking for one second.”

Myles nodded. He wanted to protest the demand, but the smell of Steven’s skin and the promise of the kiss that was so close overwhelmed his common sense.

But Steven barely brushed their lips together. When it felt like he might pull away Myles clapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled.

He caught the barest glimpse of Steven’s eyes going wide, then their mouths met, and for one glorious second, Myles felt that familiar rush of another man giving in to the inevitable.

It only lasted a second before Steven grinned against his lips. “So sure of yourself?” he whispered.

“Well, shit. I was.”

“We’ll see.”

“Ominous.”

Steven grinned, and Myles thought that should make him nervous, but then the slightly crooked expression did what it always did: distracted him from pretty much every thought that had just been in his head. Ominous indeed.

Carefully, Steven disengaged without actually letting Myles go. He wasn’t opposed to Myles’s strong-arm tactics, but he rather enjoyed the melting Myles he’d encountered the day before. He had a feeling Myles didn’t show that side of himself to very many people.

Quick, so as not to give any impression he was about to allow Myles to turn the tables again, he swung around to straddle Myles properly, settling himself, knees folded on either side of Myles’s lap.

“Comfortable?” Myles asked, tilting his head so he could look up at him.

“Oh, very. You?”

Myles gripped Steven’s ass in both hands and squeezed. “I could get there.”

Steven grinned, tossing his hair forward to hide the weirdly crooked angle of it. Why his twin was blessed with the biggest, most brilliant smile on the planet, and he had this awkward half thing that left him looking like a cynical punk, he had no idea.

Myles reached up to sweep his hair away from his face. “And why are we hiding all of a sudden?”

“Not hiding.” He leaned down, taking Myles’s mouth in a kiss that would distract him from pretty much anything. He hoped.

He got no complaints for quite some time.

When he moved his attention south, unbuttoning Myles’s shirt as he went, he revealed… another shirt. He glanced up at Myles’s face. “Do people still wear undershirts?”

Myles growled at him.

“Not complaining. Just makes the payoff that much more worth it.” He yanked and tugged until the hem of the T-shirt was free of Myle’s jeans, then rucked it up to reveal his true goal. The hard, lean planes of Myles’s chest and stomach were more than worth the extra effort.

Myles leaned back with a groan and ran his fingers through Steven’s hair. The soft strokes sent shivers down Steven’s spine and rose goose flesh along his arms. There was strength in those fingers the gentleness only emphasised. He kept waiting for Myles to try to take charge again, but he didn’t.

“What are we doing here?” Myles asked at one point, when Steven dipped his tongue into his bellybutton. He didn’t pursue the question, though, when Steven moved on to his jeans button and zipper.

Steven figured his actions were answer enough. His own dick hardened in anticipation. He had his jeans open and had breathed a few hot breaths over Myles’s impressive bulge when Myles spoke again.

“Are we there, then?” he asked, voice husky.