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Adam picked up the towel and held it out. “I’ll stop. You hold the—”
Nick shifted forward and kissed him.
He hadn’t given it a moment’s consideration—and if he had, he probably wouldn’t have done it at all. But now he couldn’t imagine stopping.
Kissing a girl was nothing like this. The basic mechanics, sure. But kissing Adam, there was a strength behind it, a raw masculinity despite his lyrical movement and gentle fingers. Nick was distantly aware of the ice hitting the floor.
Then Adam was kissing him back, drawing at Nick’s tongue with his own. He had a hand behind Nick’s neck, stroking the hair there, and Nick wished he could freeze this exact moment.
Oh, and the next moment, when Adam bit at Nick’s lip.
And the moment after that, when Nick stroked a hand up Adam’s neck, finding the first start of stubble across his jaw.
It was like every thought he’d ever blocked, every fantasy he’d ever refused to acknowledge, was blasting through his brain all at once with the force of a hurricane. Everything he knew was with a girl. Like reciting a learned lesson, something he could do because he had to.
This—this was new. And exciting. And primal and raw and right.
And insanely hot. He wished there weren’t so many damn clothes in the way.
They were going to be on the floor in a minute.
“Easy. Easy,” said Adam.
Nick felt like he was coming up for air.
Hell, he was practically panting.
He looked into Adam’s brown eyes, which were just now searching his.
“Well,” said Adam, a slight smile on his lips. “That was unexpected.”
Unexpected. Somehow the best and worst word to use. All of a sudden, the emotion of the evening caught up with him, and Nick felt the inexplicable urge to put his head on Adam’s shoulder and cry.
But then a girl cleared her throat from behind him.
“You can say that again,” said Quinn.
CHAPTER 6
Quinn wondered just how many times life was going to jerk her around today.
She’d have to storm past Nick and Adam to get to the front door, but a sliding glass door led out of the living room. An alcoholic buzz still made her thoughts swim, but she managed to get the lock thrown. She stumbled onto the tiny concrete patio. Cold air bit at her cheeks before Nick caught up to her.
“Stop,” he said. “Quinn, stop, please—”
She swung around and hit him. Rage-filled strikes that slammed into his chest and made her head ache and vision whirl.
She was vaguely aware she was crying, and she had no idea how many times she hit him before he caught her arms and forced her still.
Quinn looked up at him. Her body felt like she was still moving. The stars spun overhead. Her stomach rolled.
“Quinn,” he whispered.
“Nick,” she said back.
And then she threw up on his feet.
He deserved it, but that didn’t make it any less humiliating. She expected him to shove her away in disgust, or to drop her there in her own puke, because she could barely hold herself upright.
