Heath’s heart is full on in control, his mind and logic sitting far behind in the back seat. Tragic, but beautiful.
I look from one man to the other as their stares burn each other’s eyeballs.
Finally, it’s Heath who cracks a smile.
“I would have at least worn sunglasses, you cheeky bastard.”
Josh cracks a smile right back.
“Whatever, Heath. You’re not The Count in real life, sneaking in and out of the shadows. You’re a guy who’d have had a camera aimed at him anywhere within a fifty-mile radius. Stop talking bollocks. I made the right call.”
Heath takes a swig of Prosecco.
“I’m still pissed off. Don’t think I’m not.”
But Josh has him. His grin is still on his face as he closes the distance between them, and the bond is clear as day. He brushes some of Heath’s long silky hair behind his ear and leans in tight.
“You can be pissed off all you want. It’s the truth.”
The chemistry sizzles between them. It’s alive with lust that makes my skin prickle.
Heath holds up a finger.
“If anything even vaguely like this ever happens again, promise me you won’t hit decline.”
Josh shakes his head.
“I can’t do that.”
Heath starts in horror. “Why the fuck not?”
The way Josh stares at Heath gives me a lurch so bad I have to hold my stomach.
“Because I love you too fucking much to pull you into Hell.”
With that, the Prosecco in Heath’s hand goes tumbling. The glass smashes on the dresser as Heath takes Josh’s face in his hands and kisses him with a fervour beyond all reason. I watch from the sidelines with my heart in my throat, fixated on the passion before me.
It’s off the charts, unbridled.
They crash onto the bed together, tearing at each other’s clothes in desperation, and it’s a battle for who is on top, both of them practically wrestling. It’s verging on violent. A power struggle of love mixed with rage. I back myself against the wall and clench my thighs, so horny for them myself that I can barely take it. But I want to see who wins this time. I want to see who commands the moment.
It’s usually Josh. He’s normally the guy on top when it comes to Heath and dishing out dirty fun.
In all the times I’ve been around them, it’s usually my boyfriend who takes the alpha position.
But not tonight. Heath is too wound up.
He straddles and pins Josh to the mattress, slamming his arms up above his head and gripping them like a vice.
“If I want to walk into Hell, I’ll walk into Hell. That’s what love is, Josh. It’s letting someone in, not slamming the door in their face when they’re crying out for entry.”
Josh bucks up at him, jaw gritted.
“You’re out of your fucking mind, Heath.That’swhy I slammed the door in your face. One of us had to stay sane. One of us had to steer the fucking boat.”
“I could havehelpedsteer the fucking boat!”
“NO!” Josh shouts, still bucking. Battling. “You’d have got tangled up in the carnage with us, brought more camera flashes along with you, and chucked your career overboard in the process. Listen to me, will you? Just fucking listen!”
