This was technically good, because Jesus Christ, his shoulder was sore, but the shift redistributed that pressure to the thigh slotted between his legs. This was also good. Excruciatingly good. Which was the undoing of everything he’d thought he knew about himself.
The thick muscle of Heath’s thigh nestled right up against the raging hard-on he’d been trying to talk down, and it rendered him incoherent. The instantaneous pleasure was sharp and exquisite. Enough to arch his back off the cushions and pull a sound from his chest that he usually reserved for someone with whom he had a far better relationship.
However, it successfully made Heath go still. Deathly still. Evan heard him suck in a breath and hold it and he wanted to laugh, but didn’t dare breathe. No doubt hubby was wide fucking awake now.
“Oh,shit.”
Their compromising position placed Heath’s mouth just behind his ear, and the quiet whisper brushed the side of his neck, sending a prickle of goosebumps over every inch of his skin.
Evan’s eyes rolled back. An electric current raced down his spine, and his hips bucked upward against Heath without shame.
“Fuuuck…”
Heath echoed the sentiment with a low moan, and Evan realized the thick weight on his hip wasn’t something in Heath’s pocket.
“Let me get off—up! I’ll?—”
“Stop. Fucking. Moving,” he hissed, grabbing Heath’s hips in a death grip. If he shifted one more time, they were going to have a big, messy problem on their hands—and everywhere else.
“Sorry, I…” Evan tightened his grip, and Heath’s voice dissolved into a harsh wheeze. It made his cock jump, which made the cock pressed against his hip twitch, and that broke the last thread of stability holding his brain together.
It felt good. All of it.
Heath’s weight pressed him into the cushions. The whisker-light caresses of his lips against that damn spot on his neck every time he uttered a word. Every movement created a shockwave of incredible pleasure that pooled low in his pelvis.
Fuck. He should’ve dumped Heath’s sleepwalking ass onto the floor and jerked off in the bathroom like a normal degenerate. Instead, he wasthis closeto humping the shit out of his infuriating make-believe husband.
Heath breathed against his ear. “Evan?”
“Heath?”
“What do you want?”
“I…” Jesus, what a loaded question that was.
Heath trembled in his arms, his fingers clenching into a fistin his hair. It felt so goddamn good he nearly came. That was his answer.
He wanted to kiss him again. Drag his hips down and grind their dicks together until he saw fucking stars. He wanted to know what made a schoolmarm come unhinged. What did it take to make Heath bite, scratch, and curse? Did he overthinkeverything,or was fucking the one place he actually let go?
He wanted to know what made Heath Lennox come screaming, and then hereallywanted to know what the hell was in the water on this goddamn island.
“I’ll do whatever you want, but I have to do something or I swear to Christ, I’m going to die.” Heath pulled back enough that with a tilt of his chin, Evan could see his eyes. They were all pupil. So dark, the ring of cobalt was an illusion against the white. He was so turned on he’d spoken like a normal person, and damned if that didn’t make Evan feel better.
He wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t hallucinating. This was really going to happen if he wanted it to. He just had to decide. Status quo, or seeing where the scary path led?
He slipped his fingers into the thick chaos of Heath’s hair and cupped his cheek, bringing their foreheads together. Heath’s eyes closed and his breathing grew ragged as Evan traced the edge of his nose with his own and brought their lips within a whisper of touching.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
Heath made a tortured sound. “Do youwantto do this?”
Deep breath.
“Yeah, I do.”
Heath muttered something resembling “Thank fucking God,” and closed the distance.
There was nothing reserved in his kiss. This was no Victorian matron playing shy and scandalized. Heath fisted his hair and pinned him to the cushions, kissing him hard, until he was so out of breath his head spun.
