Page 41 of Snow Globe Secrets

“Yes!”

“No!”

I dropped back with a thump but tried to hide my frustration otherwise when I said softly, “No?”

He leaned in closer, taking my hand once again and looking me straight in the eye. “Did you forget your promises?”

I’d forgotten just about everything, including my name in that moment, with the way he was looking at me.

“Promises?” He nodded slowly, and each rock of his head was like a surge to my manhood. The light behind his eyes was playful, but somehow there was a fire behind them as well, and holy fuck, all that energy was too much. I was clenching his hand, awaiting his response.

“You promised I could fuck you too,” he said without breaking our gaze. No hesitancy, just heat and humor. All we were doing was holding hands, and my dick was standing at attention, like he was stroking it with his every word.

My next sentence came out on a croak, and I had to clear my throat after the first word. “You said promises, plural.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded. “You also said we’d eventually sleep in a bed.” I don’t know whose smile was brighter after he said it. We broke apart, and I stood. Part of me wanted to strip my sweatpants off right then and there and free the beast that was protruding from them, but when I stood, I took in the little dinette table.

“Let’s hurry the fuck up and get this table cleared so we can get up there.”

It was Randall’s turn to clear his throat as we both stacked dirty dishes like we were seasoned waiters at a three-star restaurant. “Austin?”

I deposited my dishes in the sink and turned the water on, turning to take items from his hands. He’d whispered my name, and I’d barely heard it over the sound of the water starting. So he held onto the dish I was trying to grab.

“Austin?”

“Yeah, Randall?”

“I have this … fantasy.”

The word yes almost fell from my lips; I was fairly sure I would be up for whatever Randall had in mind. My body pulsed with excitement. I took the dish and turned to the sink, knowing any fantasy of Randall’s would include a clean kitchen. He was right beside me, placing more items in the sink while I started rinsing. Shoulder to shoulder, I looked at him.

“Go on.”

“You won’t … It’s dumb …”

I handed him a rinsed dish, and he bent to put it in the dishwasher.

“Go. On.”

“When I first walked in this place, with the realtor, we came in the front door. You open that door, and you’re looking straight out the back.” He pointed to the floor-to-vaulted-ceiling windows beside the kitchen. “That big open window. The valley below. The resort somewhere behind those trees on the other side.” He paused.

“That’s the view you sent me when we were texting during my exams, right? It’s amazing,” I agreed. “Truth be told, I might have been in love with this place before I ever set foot inside, London. Beautiful view, beautiful home. What did it make you think of on that first day?”

He stopped what he was doing and looked at me again. The honesty in his eyes was unnerving. “I want to fuck you in front of that window, Austin. Both of us naked, pressed up against it.”

My brain may have short-circuited for a second, and Randall had to yank the plate I was holding out of my hand, which was ironic because all of a sudden I was in an all-fire hurry to be done cleaning up the fucking kitchen. Him yanking away the plate brought me back into focus.

“How hot was that realtor?” I joked.

Randall laughed, and I could hear the anxiousness leave him. He was all relaxed smiles as he shook his head. “Not my type.”

“A woman?”

He nodded again.

We worked quietly but quickly to clean up, and I could sense Randall tensing up as he started the dishwasher.

“It’s too much,” he said, and I wasn’t sure what we were talking about until he elaborated. “We can just watch a movie, or go upstairs, or …”