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Our lips never once lifted, fusing in a long, languid kiss. Everything grew hazy except for the feel of his throat beneath my hand, the way our lips rubbed, and the warmth of his breath. I started to burn with starvation, needing more. Needing it all.
Pushing my tongue between his lips, I groaned, feeling the silky heat of his mouth, licking deep the second his jaw went slack. My other hand came up so I could cradle his face, holding him in my palms as our tongues twisted and stroked until we weren’t two separate flavors but one.
His mouth grew wet, his attention so singular he’d forgotten to swallow and the way he salivated for me started to build up. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, slurping it up and savoring the flavor of his desire.
His hands gripped my biceps, fingers biting into muscle as though he were afraid I might disappear. Half over him, half off, I thrust my hips into the mattress, one of my legs falling over the side of the cot.
He pulled back enough to tug my upper lip between his, and the soft suckling sound echoing around us had my balls drawing tight against my body.
Panting, I disconnected, lowering my forehead to his shoulder. My lips felt bruised, my head was fuzzy, and I was seconds away from coming in my pants.
“Decking that cop was totally worth it,” I mused.
The shoulder my head rested against started to tremble, and I pulled back in time to see Matthew’s teeth flashing in the night. His smile was beautiful, and I was jealous of the dark for keeping some of it to itself.
“Are you laughing?” I asked, going for incredulously offended but knowing it was probably coming off as moronically endeared.
Because I was—utterly besotted with his smile. It felt like a victory after a long battle.
His lips covered his teeth, but then they flashed again. “No.”
Unable to keep my hands to myself, I stroked the side of my finger along his cheek. The hint of smile left on his face was replaced instantly with caution.
“That’s some smile you got there, Matthew. Fucking beautiful.”
His swallow echoed between us, and he glanced away. “It’s Matt.”
“I prefer Matthew.”
His brows dipped, creating a dark line over his eyes. “Why?” he practically demanded, and something in me fluttered with glee.
Oh, I do love a brat.
“Why not?” I purred, wanting to see his reaction.
This was doing nothing for the chronic stiffy I was rocking, but he was irresistible.
He scowled. “Matt is shorter.”
Amusement curled my lips. “Exactly.” I agreed. “And calling you by your full name means I get more of you on my tongue.”
He blinked rapidly, completely taken off guard, and turned his face away to hide, but he couldn’t hide his quickened breathing.
I lowered my lips, brushing them against his ear to whisper, “Are you blushing, Matthew?”
Overhead, the pipes groaned, the sound of water rushing through them intruding on the moment. The little bubble around us burst, and his body went rigid.
Shifting, I took my place beside him on the narrow cot and dragged his back against my front. Our bodies fit together, the little extra size I had the perfect amount to wrap around him. Anchoring my arm over his lean waist, I rested my head near his ear.
The second the rushing water quieted, the sound of constant dripping took over. Near my arm, his hand fisted, and I released his waist long enough to pull it into his body so I could hold it too.
And because I didn’t know what else to do, I began to whisper.
7
Prism
Bright artificial light flooded the darkness, a far crueler wakeup than any five-a.m. swim practice would ever be. I didn’t have time to grouse or protest because the sudden buzz of fluorescent bulbs had my eyes flying open as if it were gunshots.
