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And four, right now, when Christian’s out first and the jeers and catcalls helpfully inform me that he’s terribly shit at this game.
“I’ll defend your honor, dear one.” And defend it I do, until there’s only Madden, Seven, and I left, and Christian’s passed off the bank to Xander who passed it to Rush who passed it to Gabe. I’m feeling proud of myself for remembering all of their disastrous names, when Christian yawns wide and settles his arm across the couch behind me. It’s such a boyfriendly thing to do that when he drags his thumb over my neck, from the cradle of my shoulder to that soft spot behind my ear, I lean into the touch. Starved for it, if I’m honest. Wishing we hadn’t drawn all these lines between us so I could take that touch and turn it into more.
All day I’ve been subjected to the scent of his body spray, his bashful gaze, the way those defined collarbones are peeking out of the low scoop of his T-shirt.
He shifts closer, pressing his side to mine. Nose running the length of my hairline and distracting me completely from the game.
“Thanks for humoring us today,” his low voice says by my ear.
“I’d hardly call enjoying myself humoring you.”
He makes a non-committal noise. “Thanks anyway. It’s … been nice. Hanging out.”
“It has.”
“And while I’m super invested in watching you kick both my friends’ asses …” He shifts beside me, hips flexing forward as he smooths a hand down his sweats and pulls the material tight over–hello. “Help me.”
I’m not strong enough to remind him of our deal. Not with him offering me everything I’ve been dying for all day. “But … the game …” Not that I give one, single solitary fuck about finishing, I just have no clue how to get away without announcing to them all that we’re going to have sex.
“I got you,” he murmurs before raising his voice. “Ah, I’m so thirsty, I need a drink.” Then he sets his hand on the table under the pretense of using it to stand up, and “accidentally” slips. The board upends, tiny plastic houses scattering away across the table and floor.
Madden huffs. “Seriously, Christian?Again?”
“Ooops?”
The others dutifully go in search of the pieces like this is a common thing and while they’re distracted, Christian grabs my hand and drags me from the room.
“How many times have you needed to create a distraction like that?”
“Cute you think any other time before tonight was intentional.”
“You mean you’ve never before staged a distraction for your friends to sweep a man off for promisingly filthy things?”
He glances at me, all soft eyes and wrinkled forehead. “Actually, ah … boyfriends haven’t been a big part of my life so you’re actually the first guy I’ve ever brought home. Umm, properly. Hookups, obviously, but they’re normally gone before my roommates can attack.”
I try not to get too happy over that fact. Or feel too special. It’s not like I’m here because he wanted to introduce me, and if it wasn’t for an overly enthusiastic old lady barging in this morning, I’d likely have been shooed out the door as well.
Still, that’s not something I’m going to focus on when Christian’s hand is warm in mine, and his delicious arse is a step ahead of me, begging me to follow.
I’ve barely stepped onto the landing when he hauls me against him, hands steady at my back and hard cock pressing enticingly into my thigh.
“This okay?”
My hands slide up his chest, melting at the smooth muscle beneath them. “You tell me. The hands-off rule was yours and I’m happy to go along, but I’d be a gigantic liar if I said I haven’t been in a constant state of hunger for you again.”
Conflict fills those blue eyes, even as his grip on me increases. “It’s okay, yeah? I mean, the money is separate from … from this.”
“It is.”
“And things won’t get all weird and mixed up?”
“Not if we don’t let them.” I shift so he can feel how desperate I am for him as well. “Frankly, I think us being constantly hard around each other is the problem. With all the blood in our dicks, how are we supposed to convincingly fool anyone? If anything, having sex means we’ll be on top form.” I’m rambling. I know I am, but the desire to stop is far less than the desire to see him naked again. “Besides, it can’t be healthy to be so constantly boned up. Even Viagra comes with a warning on the packet.”
“True. It’s for our own good, right?”
Before I can let rational thought sneak in, I lean forward and suck on one of his deliciously tempting collarbones. “Our doctors would be so very fucking grateful.”
I’m not proud of the needy hint to my words, except then his mouth comes down hard on mine, and suddenly I am. Because I’m far too horny to think about much of anything except the way he’s kissing me. Strong lips, deep, sweeping tongue, one hand tangled messily in my hair as he holds me in place. I feel it, his need, from my scalp to the tips of my toes, because I’m desperate for him in all the same ways.
