Page 68 of The Fire Line

A man’s mouth. Navarro’s.

The distinction hit him and vanished beneath the next kiss.

Harris crowded closer, hands moving over shoulders, ribs, waist, learning the solid shape of him by grabbing whatever he could reach. Navarro met every bit of force Harris gave him, one leg shifting between his, his body hard and unyielding against Harris’s chest.

Then Navarro rolled his hips, and their groins met.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Navarro was hard against him.

Not theoretically. Not another private fact Harris could tuck away and examine later when he was alone and sensible again. Harris could feel him through their jeans, solid against his own erection because Harris had kissed him and Navarro wanted more.

Harris shoved against him again.

Navarro’s head knocked softly against the wall. “Fuck.”

The word went through Harris almost as hard as the contact. He kissed him harder, and Navarro caught his lower lip between his teeth before his hand left Harris’s hair and dragged down his side.

Then his palm closed over Harris through the denim.

Harris jerked against him. “Goddamn.”

Navarro paused with his hand still there. “Okay?”

“Yup.”

Navarro squeezed.

“Fuck.”

“That’s informative.”

“Shut up.”

Navarro laughed against his mouth, and Harris kissed the sound out of him.

The touching changed after that, less exploratory and more purposeful. Navarro worked his palm against Harris through his jeans while Harris crowded him against the wall, kissing his mouth, his jaw, whatever he could reach without giving him enough space to move away.

Not that Navarro appeared interested in going anywhere.

His fingers found Harris’s belt, and the buckle opened with a metallic snap that seemed obscenely loud inside the empty lookout.

Harris caught his wrist.

Navarro paused. “Want me to stop?”

Here it was: the line Harris had spent most of his life never crossing.

He wanted Navarro’s hand inside his jeans so badly his entire body hurt with it. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that wanting and doing had always been separate things.

For once, Harris didn’t give himself time to make them separate.

He took a breath and pushed Navarro’s hand more firmly against himself.

“No.” His voice came out rough. “Don’t stop.”

Something changed in Navarro’s face.