Page 47

Chapter Nineteen

Lake

“Kiss you back.” The response came with zero hesitation—because Baxter was right. I’d been eyeing him all night like I was a starving man and he was the juiciest thing on the buffet. Even that wasn’t enough for him.

“And then?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You kissed me back last time. And then you pushed me away.”

“I’m not going to push you away.” I was drowning in Baxter’s blue eyes, the rest of the world reduced to background noise.

“You talked about spontaneous combustion to get out of having this conversation. You can hardly blame me for—”

I grabbed him, yanking him forward and crashing my lips into his. He yielded immediately, his mouth soft and eager as we explored each other. “I’m different,” I demanded between heated kisses. “I’m not one of your one-night stands. You don’t get to forget about me in the morning. We’re friends, right? This doesn’t change that.”

Baxter pulled back, pupils blown wide, lips flushed and swollen. For a horrible moment, I thought he was going to say I was wrong, that this changed everything.

Then he nodded. “Friends. I’ll still be here in the morning. I’ll even listen to whatever monologue you want to give about your favorite country in the whole wide world.”

“I’m not obsessed with France.”

He smiled.

“I’m not! It just has a lot of history.” I might have kept defending myself, but Baxter chose that moment to grab the hem of his T-shirt and drag it over his head, revealing what had to be the eighth wonder of the world. Any coherent thought vanished, replaced only by an analysis of bare skin, muscle, and a smattering of dark hair across his chest.

“Not bad,” I said. “For a dead man.”

Baxter took my hand and pressed it flat against his chest, his fingers firm around my wrist. I could feel his heart hammering beneath my palm. “Do I feel dead?”

“No.” It was pleasing to feel how rapid his heartbeat was. He dragged my hand lower, over his treasure trail and washboard abs, past his waistband, then curled my fingers around a cock that was already half hard.

“How about here?”

I let my fingers explore, tracing his length as desire rose in me like a tsunami. He hardened beneath my touch, breath hitching when I transformed my gentle exploration into a slow rub. Conflicting wants raged in my head. I wanted to keep stroking until he came. I wanted to take his cock out and swallow him to the root. I wanted to bend over for him and have him fuck me. I wanted to fuck him.

Baxter chuckled, dropping a soft kiss on my lips. “Steady, Eddie. That sounds more like an orgy, and I am but one man.”

“Yeah…” I let go of his cock and slid my fingers into his hair. He didn’t resist when I dragged his mouth back to mine, our kisses growing harder, messier. Proving I could multitask with the best of them, I kept my mouth glued to his as I backed him towards the bed.

He laughed when the mattress hit the backs of his knees. “Smooth. I had you down as a lot of things, but smooth wasn’t one of them.”

“I can be smooth.” My voice was thick with desire, barely sounding like my own.

Baxter spread his arms and theatrically let himself fall back onto the bed, lying there like a starfish. “Is this how you want me?”

I kicked off my shoes and yanked my shirt over my head in seconds, fumbling with the fastening of my trousers next. Now that I’d given in and this was happening, every second I wasn’t touching Baxter was a second too long. “Yeah,” I said. “But naked.”

He sat back up to deal with his shoes, sneaking looks my way. Once the shoes were off, we stripped in unison. “Underwear on or off?” he asked.

“Off.”

He wriggled free of his at the same time as I stepped out of my mine, his cock rising to curve against the tight muscles of his abdomen. Once he was naked, he lay back with one arm tucked behind his head, openly scrutinizing me.

Baxter was wholly, unabashedly perfect in every single way, and I couldn’t even bring myself to care that he knew I felt that way. There would be no hiding from Baxter. Not physically, and not mentally, and instead of terrifying me, it felt freeing. He knew how badly I wanted him, and he still wanted this.

I crawled onto the bed, goosebumps erupting where my skin brushed his. I kissed his chest. His neck. The soft skin behind his ear. Each kiss earned a laugh. It got quieter when I found his nipples and stopped altogether when I crouched between his thighs and wrapped my hand around the base of his cock.