Quin grimaced as he noticed the razor cut had opened again, blood dribbling down his neck. He didn’t know why he did it, but he swiped a finger over the blood and then stuck it in his mouth.
“What the fuck,” he said.
And then he did it again.
The blood congealed, so he dug his fingernail into the cut, tugging at the skin. He tore at his own flesh until his blood flowed once more. Two red-coated fingers returned to his mouth, though he didn’t taste a thing. Nor, he thought distantly, could he feel any pain.
He felt nothing at all.
Quin looked again in the mirror.
His eyes were the wrong shade of blue.
NINETEEN
Kit
It turnedout that Kit didn’t have a great deal to pick up from his flat. A few outfit changes. His laptop. His cutest underwear made the cut, even if only so Quin could tear them off. Not like he wore much else at Quin’s, anyway. He’d discovered that he was comfortable channelling his inner naturist.
Kit had never realised that sex wasfun. He should have been doing it for years. But then, it wouldn’t have been with Quin. And Quin was the one who made it so fun. Hot, too, but Kit laughed more during sex than he ever expected.
Despite his eagerness to get back, Kit took his car instead of running, as it had started to spit. The tiny cactus Quin had given him rattled in the cupholder as he drove. Given that Shaun, Rake, and DJ would stay at Kit’s house, he wasn’t about to risk leaving the gift in their care. One could never be too careful.
Kit hadn’t known it was possible to miss someone after mere hours. And yet, he ached for Quin already, his excitement ratcheting up as he approached the house and parked down the street. He walked at a normal, human pace to ensure that he didn’t disturb his cactus any further.
As he walked towards Quin’s, Kit contemplated whether he should feed. The notion of drinking from anyone other than Quin tied his stomach in knots. He’d have to revisit the idea at some point, but not right then. He was hungry, sure, but he could wait.
Quin had tried to give him the spare set of keys to the house, but Kit had refused. For now. They were already acting like he’d moved in, and keys seemed…too big, too weighty, too permanent for something that had only started so recently.
And yet, Kit had wanted to take them for that reason alone.
He soon regretted not taking the spare keys as he pressed the doorbell for the second time. Maybe Quin had fallen asleep—it was nighttime after all—but Kit didn’t enjoy standing on the stoop as the rain pitter-pattered on his coat. One more try of the doorbell and, if nothing happened, he’d break in.
After he rang for the third time, however, he heard footsteps coming down the hall. Kit tried to look mad, but when he saw Quin, it melted away.
“Hi,” Kit said, stepping inside and pushing his hood back. “What took you so long?” Okay, so maybe he was still annoyed at being left waiting.
“Bathroom,” Quin said.
“Oh.” Kit didn’t want to think too hard about that. He lifted the cactus up to show Quin. “Brought this to hang out with the others.”
Quin smiled, taking the cactus and placing it on the little ledge above the coat pegs. “Come here.” He pulled Kit closer.
“I’ll get you all wet!”
“I don’t mind.” Quin bent down and took Kit’s lips in a sweet, soft kiss. It was almost chaste. Kit had expected the by now usual ravaging, so it was a bit of a shock when Quin drew away after only a couple of seconds. Still, it made Kit squirm with need.
He pressed his forehead to Quin’s chest. “Can we go to bed?”
“Whatever you desire.”
Kit took his rucksack and jacket off. “Brought my stuff.”
“I’m glad.”
Kit hung his jacket up, worrying that he was running out of conversation. It hadn’t happened before with Quin, but theyhadjust spent days together with no break. It was probably natural.
Quin turned and started walking upstairs without a word, so Kit scurried after him, hugging his rucksack to his chest. “How’s Mabel?”
