“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.
“Are you?” He released my wrists, and my hands slid down, only to stop at his hips.
I held his gaze as I let his words sink in. Was I sorry? I took a risk by splaying my hand over his sticky chest, which rose and fell with his quick breaths. “I’m not.”
Beck sucked in a breath, and it was clear I wasn’t the only one remembering that kiss. He’d told me he didn’t want to repeat it, though… “But I thought you didn’t—”
My hesitance dissipated when Beck claimed my lips as if they belonged to him. I swallowed the squeak that rose in my throat and cupped his cheeks, welcoming the invasion of his tongue. The connection sent heat through my body and blood to my dick. Fuck, how could I crave his lips so much? I hadn’t known I needed the kiss until I finally got it again.
Beck’s hands slid into my hair, his hips close to mine—enough for me to feel he was aroused too. That proximity flipped some switch to ignite my body. I was alive, and I wanted more of whatever Beck was giving me.
Still kissing, Beck shrugged off his shirt and opened his slacks. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I didn’t want it to stop, so I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of his boxers.
Beck pulled away, his chest heaving, his eyes wide. “Can I use your shower?”
“Of course.” I waved to the side as if it wasn’t plain as day where the stall was in the cramped space.
“Great. I’ll leave my clothes on the floor. If you don’t mind.” His kiss-swollen lips offered me a smile that warmed my chest.
“I’ll chuck them into the washer.” I backed away, giving us both space to process what had just happened.
“Thanks.” He bro-punched my shoulder and disappeared behind the shower curtain.
Horny and confused, I watched his socks and boxers fly to the floor.
After gathering an armful of sticky clothes, I opened the closet next door and shoved them into the washing machine. I set the load on autopilot and shuffled to the kitchen to grab two mugs.
“Am I going crazy?” I asked the reliable Mr. Coffee as I added ground energy into the filter-lined funnel. The machine didn’t reply, so maybe I was saner than the kiss and my intense need to touch Beck suggested. I couldn’t deny my attraction to Beck any longer. Even though I’d never been with a man, I had considered it for the past severalmonths. Since the con. Discovering I might be bi wouldn’t be the end of the world after all. So why fight it? The problem was that my dick-o-compass pointed at Beck, who gave off such mixed vibes I had no idea where we stood.
The shower turned off, reminding me I was supposed to grab a change of clothes for my guest. I burst into my bedroom and yanked the first T-shirt from the top drawer, a pair of boxers, and sweatpants.
I skidded to a halt in front of the bathroom door and knocked.
“I got you something to wear,” I said, waiting for Beck to burst out, his naked chest gleaming with droplets of water, his wet hair falling over his eyes.
Instead, the door cracked open, and Beck’s hand stuck out. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it.”
I dropped the bundle into his grasp and took a step back so the closing door wouldn’t hit my nose. Well, okay. My stomach dropped. I needed to get a grip on my expectations.
The sound of percolating coffee sweetened my return to the kitchen, and I poured two mugs before I heard footsteps. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Just sugar, thanks.” Beck’s voice came from behind me.
I added two spoons before I turned his way. The arch opening to the kitchen had never looked as good as with Beck leaning against it. The sweats hung low on his hips,his chest elevating my Nightwing T-shirt to a fashion magazine-style attire.
Mouth closed to not let the drool slither out, I handed him a mug and led him to the living room, where our takeout waited on the table in front of the couch.
Coffees in hand, Beck eyed the movie shelf again.
“We can watch something now. We have food and coffee.” I put my mug aside to join him. “And we need to wait for your clothes anyway.”
I expected Beck to protest or make some excuse. He was hot one minute and cold the next; it was hard to predict how he’d react. To my relief, he turned to face me with a gleam in his eyes. “And you’re cool with that?”
“Yeah, of course.” I waved at the selection. “I have movie evenings with my roommates. Or I just binge them by myself sometimes, so it’s no biggie.”
“Sounds nice.” Beck’s shoulders relaxed visibly, and he pulled a box set from behind his back and presented it to me like a rare find. “I haven’t seen it in years.”
“Oh, man, X-Men movies are like chips. One is never enough.” I grinned, taking the Blu-rays from him. “So we better start right away.”
