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“How do you know?” Mathieu demanded. “What do you know?” He switched their touch and now he was the one holding on to Win, pulling on him…or was that just the energy between them?
“I don’t—” Win shook his head to clear it. He’d already said too fucking much. “I wouldn’t stay with him if I thought he did it,” he finished lamely. “I wouldn’t still be there.”
Mathieu’s gaze searched his and Win tried his best to hide, but he didn’t know how well he managed that.
“Please.” He wrenched his hand from Mathieu’s, clutching his face with both hands now. “Mathieu, please.” He asked too much, but did it anyway. He wanted Mathieu to believe him, to hear him and let it go, but that wasn’t how it worked.
Mathieu’s expression told him he should know better than that. “There will come a day when I’ll stop allowing you to protect him,” he said hoarsely. His fingers settled on Win’s nape, rough, warm. Mathieu bent, brushing his nose against Win’s, breath blasting. Win scrambled to swallow the whimper building in the back of his throat, closing his eyes. “There will come a day, very fucking soon, when I’ll make him pay, Win. And no matter how much I want to spare you that horror, I can’t. I won’t.” His voice cracked on the very last word. Win heard him swallow. “Take this as your only warning.”
Win’s eyes flew open then, colliding with Mathieu’s. Their noses were pressed together and Mathieu’s lips were right there. The memories made Win quake, made his insides tremble. Mathieu’s words terrified him, and he should focus on them, but he couldn’t. Not when Mathieu’s scent had taken up residence in Win’s nostrils. Not when the feel of him woke all the long-dormant feelings Win had buried way down deep. They rose now, yawning, hungry.
Desperate.
Mathieu must have seen it because his expression changed to heat. He let the desire he’d kept barely leashed flash brightly in his eyes. Win’s breath hitched and he took a step back.
Mathieu moved with him.
Advancing as Win backed away, their gazes locked until Win was stopped by the door against his back. Fuck. The shaking in his limbs turned more aggressive. He could practically hear his bones rattle.
Mathieu licked his lips and a sound left Win, low and rumbly. He didn’t want to feel these things. He’d fooled himself into thinking that staying away from Mathieu would make all he felt disappear. But they’d just been there, waiting for the warmth of Mathieu’s breath and the rasp of his fingertips to wake them up. And they overwhelmed Win now, all these things he shouldn’t still be feeling for the man who’d broken his heart so very badly.
Mathieu leaned in and placed a hand on the door next to Win’s head, then he ducked, burying his face in the crook of Win’s neck. Win’s breath stuttered and his hands lifted of their volition, wrapping around Mathieu’s waist, dragging up his back. Cupping the back of his head.
This was closer than they’d been in so long, but they could get closer. They could get so much closer and he bit his tongue to keep from voicing that out loud. He shouldn’t. His memory still worked and just as he remembered the good things, so did he recall the bad.
“You smell the same.” Mathieu’s breath on his neck tickled and made Win’s cock jerk and throb in the confines of his jeans. “So fucking good.”
They shouldn’t be doing this; he should end it. But he didn’t. He remained pressed up against the door as Mathieu sniffed him, rubbing his nose along the length of Win’s neck. Win let him. In fact, he tipped his head back, blinking up at the ceiling as Mathieu nosed his throat, his jaw. None of this should be this erotic. This hot. This toe curling. But it was.
Mathieu moved up, nose dragging across the curve of Win’s jaw. Brushing the corner of his mouth.
At the warm press of his lips, Win gasped.
And Mathieu kissed him. Soft at first. Tentative. Testing the waters to see what Win would do. But Win couldn’t do shit but drown, helpless and flailing.
He drowned.
Parting his lips, granting permission when he knew he shouldn’t. His kisses didn’t belong to Mathieu, not anymore. But his body didn’t seem to recognize that. He reciprocated and Mathieu released a guttural sound, the kiss turning urgent, hard, desperate.
Win clung to him, kissing him back with all the emotions in him. He ached in places he didn’t even remember, places only Mathieu could ever touch. The other man’s tongue stripped Win down to nothing but a quivery mess of longing tinged with betrayal. It was a drugging thing, so intoxicating he gripped Mathieu, forced him in even closer, tilting his head and opening wider just so they could fall down this hole and pretend.
Nothing hurt as badly as this moment did, but he relished it just for this little while. Eyes closed, lungs burning, Win kissed the man who’d betrayed him, the man he’d repaid in kind. His broken heart didn’t feel so broken when Mathieu kissed him as if Win possessed all the air the other man needed to breathe. But Win knew all about illusions. He knew about denial. He couldn’t find the strength to deny himself the taste of Mathieu though. Couldn’t keep from chasing those lips and sinking his teeth into the bottom one until Mathieu growled, a sound that never failed to drag Win to the edge of surrender.
To that cliff where self-destruction waited at the bottom.
Every inch of Mathieu pressed against him, his cock so hard and nudging Win’s hip. Win couldn’t help shifting against it, rubbing, triumph in his moan when Mathieu clamped both hands on his hips and jerked him forward, inserting a thigh between his legs so Win could rub on it, on him. Pleasure coursed through him with lightning speed, sending his head spinning.
A large palm settled on his ass, squeezing, rubbing.
Fuck. The way he wanted this. The way he needed it. But he couldn’t. Nothing good could come from returning where he’d promised himself to never go. And Jairo— Goddamn it. He jerked his lips away from Mathieu’s. They’d been fused so tightly together that they broke apart with a sharp, wet sound. He panted, gazing up into Mathieu’s eyes. The other man watched him steadily, eyelids riding low, but not low enough to hide the explicit want in those eyes. Win didn’t move, he might collapse if he did. Mathieu didn’t budge either so they stayed like that, with Win’s legs splayed wide, Mathieu’s thigh pressed up against Win’s balls.
It hurt to take deep breaths and Win was gratified to see Mathieu was just as affected, nostrils flaring, lips wet, and his chest heaving.
“This never happened,” Win croaked out. He dropped his hands to his side. “It won’t happen again.”
Mathieu’s lips twitched and Win glanced away, fighting the urge to lurch forward and kiss him again. Fuck. Where was his self-control?
Mathieu touched a finger to the tip of Win’s nose. “It’s gonna happen again.” He said it softly, almost pitying. “And it won’t stop happening, not when you want me like I want you.”
