He glanced away, and for a moment, I thought he was panicking, and then he squared his shoulders and set his hand on my jaw. His palm was rough against my cheek, his calloused thumb dragging over my lower lip.
“Heath,” he said again.
I laughed. “You really like saying my name.”
“Reckon I like a lot of things about you.” He almost sounded angry about it. He closed his eyes on a slow breath, then leaned in. “I’m doing it differently this time.”
I felt like my soul was about to leave my body. “Doing what?” My voice came out so soft, I wasn’t sure he could hear me over the din of the bar, but then he moved another inch closer, and his chest was pressed to mine.
“Kissing you.”
“Oh, I?—”
“Can I?” he murmured. He was a breath away from me. All it would take was a single push forward, but everything would change.
There would be no coming back from it. No denying it. No blaming it on anger, or the moment, or anything else. This was Creek kissing me because he wanted it.
And it was me kissing back because I couldn’t think of any other answer except “Yes.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CREEK
I’d never wanted anything as much in my life.
I’d never wanted anyone as much.
I wasn’t sure what it was about Heath that had me feeling like this, and I didn’t even know if I liked it. All I knew was that I wanted to kiss him,hadto kiss him, would absolutely fucking die if I didn’t feel his lips against mine again.
And so I did. I bridged that last breath of distance between us and covered his mouth with mine. His lips were soft, pliant, and he opened up for me instantly. Or maybe I for him. It didn’t matter. For once in my life, I was okay with surrendering or losing or whatever it was when you just let things happen.
Our tongues slid against each other, then danced and tangled, every stroke sending electric currents sizzling through my core. When he nibbled on my bottom lip, the flash of pain shot straight to my dick. I was hard in an instant, which answered my question about being bi-curious or just bi. Bi it was. What-fucking-ever.
And then all rational thoughts evaporated from my head as we deepened the kiss. All that was left was want, need. More. I wanted more of him.
He plastered himself against me, and with one hand on a barstool for support, I pressed my body against his. No soft female curves. He wasn’t as muscled as me, but he was all male.
And he tasted so damn good. Fresh, sweet, with a hint of spice—like the man himself. I couldn’t get enough of him, and I drank him in. He made these little sounds in the back of his throat, like quiet whimpers, that drove me insane. My right hand threaded through his hair, mussing it up as I continued to devour him.
“Get a room!”
It took a few seconds for me to realize the shout was directed at us. Reluctantly, I let go of his lips and stepped back. Our eyes met, and the dazed wonder I felt was reflected in Heath’s gaze. Jesus, the way he looked with heavy-lidded eyes, his lips still wet and swollen…
He looked thoroughly kissed. By me. Deep pride filled me.
I blinked, then turned my attention to the guy who’d shouted at us. He was five foot eight of fake-alpha male attitude, wearing a T-shirt one size too small that said Real Men Drink Beer. “You have a problem?”
“Damn straight I do. I don’t need to see that.”
“And by that, are you referrin’ to people kissing or two men kissing?”
Something in my icy tone must’ve alerted him he was entering the danger zone because he took a step back. “No one wants to see that.”
“I have an easy solution for ya. Look the other way. Does wonders.”
“Do we have a problem here?”
I didn’t know the guy who stepped up, but Heath clearly did because his face filled with relief. “Zayd.” He nudged his head at the guy I was talking to. “This dude has a problem with us kissing.”
