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Hayden sighed. “My place. I need home turf.”
“OK.” Luke set off, then, seeming to realize Hayden wasn’t with him, turned back. “Not good to walk?”
Hayden put both hands to his head. Not because it hurt, though it did, a bit. Because he wanted to laugh, and he also wanted to scream. “You are not in charge here,” he informed Luke.
“Oh.” Luke considered that. “Reckon I’m used to being in charge.”
“I noticed.”
“Right,” Luke said. “I wait for you to start walking, or what?”
“Well,” Hayden said, “that would be one idea.”
Luke did it. You had to give him credit. He didn’t talk, though. Not all the way up Beach Road, not through the lobby, not up in the lift, not down the passage to the apartment door. By the time Hayden was putting his key in the lock, he was so wound up, he was shaking.
They went inside, George came pelting up, meowing as if he’d been alone for days, and Hayden dropped his workout bag and said, “Say something.”
Luke said, “I thought I was meant to not be in charge.”
Hayden was sweaty. He was hot, because it had been sunny out there, and the class had felt extra hard. He was also nervous. Luke had sweated, too, because the back of his T-shirt was soaked, and his biceps and thighs were pumped like he’d blown them up. He was giving off pheromones and testosterone like he’d cornered the market, and he didn’t look nervous at all.
Hayden gave it up, stepped into him, pulled down his head, and kissed him.
Luke stood stock-still a second, and then his bag hit the floor. Half a second after that, both arms were around Hayden, his tongue was in Hayden’s mouth, and he was backing him up against the wall.
Oh, yeh, Hayden thought with what was left of his brain. Do me like that. And then he stopped thinking, because Luke’s mouth was at his ear, then his neck, and Hayden’s hand was under Luke’s shirt, feeling the valley of his spine, the muscle that rose on either side. If he hadn’t been against the wall, he’d have been on the floor, because his knees were shaking.
Luke’s hands were on Hayden’s shirt, he realized dimly, and then his shirt was over his head. Luke was kicking off his shoes, and Hayden thought, Oh, and started to do the same, but he couldn’t, because Luke was backing him through the flat, kissing him all the way.
Oh. Bloody. Hell.
Be gentle, part of Luke’s brain was trying to tell him, but his body wasn’t getting the message, because he had Hayden on the bed, was pulling off his shoes and socks, his shorts, then yanking off his own clothes. Something may have ripped in there, because there was a sound like fabric giving under his hands. He’d been sweating like a bull, and he couldn’t care, because he was over Hayden, hands and mouth greedy, and Hayden was holding on, gasping, and then, when Luke found a brown nipple, rising into him and calling out.
He was restless. He was selfish. His hands wanted to be everywhere at once, and his mouth and tongue had a mind of their own. He was grabbing, stroking, kissing, and he needed more. He needed this body, and he was taking it.
Trying to slow down, trying to be careful, and failing. His mouth around Hayden, and Hayden’s hands in his hair, clutching. The sounds he made, and the way his body tightened under Luke, and all it was doing was pushing Luke higher, ripping away more of his self-control.
He’d meant it to be slow. He’d meant it to be careful. Loving. Caring. Tender. All those good things. Unfortunately, Hayden’s skin was soft as silk on the insides of his biceps, his thighs were lean and lithe, he had those abs, he smelled like vanilla, and by the time Luke turned him over and found that his back was even better and he had an arse like a peach … all he wanted to do was to touch and kiss all of that while Hayden writhed and moaned under him.
And then to fuck his brains out.
So that’s what he did. He barely managed to get the condom on.
Holy shit.
Hayden wasn’t sure he could breathe. He could be dying, in fact, because his legs were shaking, his heart was pounding, and he felt like he’d just been hit by a truck.
“Holy shit,” he finally managed to get out. Luke was still over him, pressing him into the mattress, and he was being crushed in the most delicious way.
“Yeh.” Luke rolled off him, then pulled him into his arms. “All right? Your head?”
Hayden tried to laugh. It wasn’t easy. His stomach muscles were shaking. It was like the aftermath of the most intense fitness class ever, the kind where you felt like you’d have to crawl home. “I’m not even sure I’m still alive.”
“Bloody hell.” Luke’s hand was on Hayden’s head, stroking his hair back with a hand that was surely shaking, wasn’t it? Was that possible? He was kissing Hayden again, wrapping himself around him, and it was like being surrounded by all the power and all the comfort in the world. “What did I do?”
“I’m fairly sure,” Hayden said, that laughter still flooding him, “that you did just about everything.”
“Sorry. I snapped. Not an excuse, I know. I just—I’m sorry.”
