Page 106 of These Wicked Hearts

“No.”

“You don’t hate this.”

Snow clings to his hair and lashes. His cheeks are flushed in the light shining down. Happiness practically clings to him.

I exhale.

“No. I don’t.”

Atlas leans into me and kisses me softly. Rolling more toward me, he cups my face, deepening the kiss, and I don’t pull away. Instead, I lie here under his large body. He’s pressed into the cradle of my hips, his thumb brushing my cheek.

He kisses me harder, no space left between our bodies, and I like how heavy he is. I like that he crushes me. It’s grounding in a way I’ve never felt. He deepens the kiss, it’s soft and unhurried, not urgent or rushed. Warm despite the cold seeping into my back. Slowly, he strokes his tongue along mine. His tongue that forces the weirdest shit from his lips but also brings me this feeling, heavy and hot. Warming me from the inside out. Snow falls around me. Some lands on my face but I don’t care about any of it. My chest tightens further with every minute we lie here kissing.

Finally, he pulls back, cheeks pink. Some unnamed feeling balls in my chest.

How have I gotten so lost?

Something passes through his eyes, and I can see him thinking about saying whatever it is.

Thankfully he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he rolls off me to lie on his back.

“Do you want to go inside and shower with me?” I open my mouth to answer. “And then let me show you my comic book collection?”

“Had me in the first half.” But I already know that whatever he wants to do tonight, that’s what we’re doing.

“Harder.” The muscles in his back bunch as water sluices down his spine, his fingers clawing against the shower wall. “Harder, Gage.”

“How much harder can I go without slipping and breaking my ass on the shower floor?” I wind my arms around him gripping him tight as I fuck into him. If I fall, I’m taking him down with me. He’s panting, whining, tightening around me.

“Oh, fuck, there. Right there.”

His nails bite into my skin as he reaches back to pull my thigh against his ass.

My hand snakes up to grip his throat hard in my hand. “Are you going to come?”

He nods, head pressed to the wall. His right arm begins to work furiously. “More. More, Gage. Fuck yes. Oh fuck.” He arches a bit more, his legs shaky. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

My hips punch into him as I drink in the unhinged sounds leaving his lips. I come hard, pressing my forehead to the center of his back and squeezing him tight. I wait for him to calm down, pressing kisses across his back.

“You good?”

He nods against his arm resting on the shower wall, as my hands trail a path over his chest. “You feel so good, Gage.”

My fingers freeze on his skin. “Yeah?” He nods then pulls himself from his arms. Reaching behind, he pulls me out then turns to face me.

He nods, still panting slightly and shutting the water off. “Do you want to see my comic room?”

I go to comment on how fast he snapped from moaning hungry slut to goofy adorable nerd, but I can’t say a word because I honestly don’t care. I just want more of that fire in his eyes. “Sure, Atlas. Show me.”

“Holy shit.”

I step inside the room, and it’s strange walking in here when his apartment back in Virginia barely has furniture let alone this. When he flicks on the lights, the room explodes with color. There are mounted shelves with action figures, and comic books. A table sits in the middle of the room with comic books in plastic sleeves. Figurines pose on his shelves, and there are three framed posters placed along the walls. “Those are movie posters I got signed by Stan Lee.”

“Who’s Stan Lee?”

Atlas huffs. “Where am I even going to begin with you?” He shakes his head. “I don’t have to show you if you don’t want?”

Atlas waits, like he’s bracing himself for a reaction he’s probably gotten a million times before. Instead, I step inside and look around. “Are those all your comics?”