He vaguely realized Sin was moving, pushing through the rowdy crowd—all of whom Cecil refused to acknowledge—but he was too lost in the kiss to care much about anything.
When the need to breathe became overwhelming, Cecil broke the kiss and buried his face into Sin’s neck. He so needed to improve his multitasking skills, but how did one practice kissing without another person? Cecil supposed he could always use a pillow…
No, that was a horrible idea—getting caught doing that would not be worth anything he learned!
Cecil was surprised when after only a few doorways they went from the softly lit hallways to the darkness of a bedroom. He was pretty sure the hallway they had been in led to the rec room. Lucky bastard didn’t have to worryabout getting lost just to get to his room, Cecil thought snidely.
Sin’s room was comprised of many rooms, but he didn’t get a chance to examine anything because the man strode quickly to their destination—the bed.
Sin laid him down on soft emerald-green covers, pulled Cecil’s shirt over his head, and bent to kiss him again. It was a short kiss.
Kneeling over him, Sin just stared. There was yearning in his eyes, but for some reason, he was hesitating. Which couldn’t be a good thing. Cecil feared Sin was about to say something that would piss him off—and he did.
“Cecil, I…we shouldn’t be doing this.” Sin shifted off of Cecil and sat beside him.
“And why the hell not?” he snapped, sitting up.
“It wouldn’t be proper.”
“You said you wanted me!” The scars on him suddenly started to itch. “Unless that was a lie…” Cecil’s hands balled into fists and he murmured softly, “Not that I would blame you.”
His body became cold when he glanced down at himself. Cecil couldn’t help but wince. His scars seemed to stand out starkly from the rest of his pale skin.
How had I forgotten? Cecil thought. He had honestly never thought about them—hadn’t even thought about how others would perceive them. It appears he should have.
Sin grasped Cecil’s hands in his and kissed them softly. “You are beautiful, don’t doubt that. And I was not lying, Cecil, I do want you. But this is…this is not the way to start a healthy relationship. Jumping into bed is not something I am comfortable with. It’s…not in my nature.”
He doubted the beautiful part, as the scars were prettyugly, but whatever. There were other things to worry about right now. “Oh, you can’t be fucking serious,” Cecil growled in frustration.
“Cecil, language.”
“So, what, you want to date?”
The man nodded. “Yes, I wish to have at least one date with you beforethat.” Smiling, Sin laid down on his side, facing Cecil, bending his elbow to rest his head on his hand.
Cecil groaned loudly and flopped back. “You are the most frustrating man in the world. And you are annoyingly polite. Also, you don’t swear, which is totally not cool. Because, come on, fuck is an amazing word. There are so many ways to use it. Not to mention, you have a weird name.” Cecil paused briefly and thought about what he just said. “Why the hell do I even like you? It doesn’t make sense! I mean, seriously, look at your eyebrows! Eyebrows don’t grow that way! And your name is really wh?—”
“You already mentioned my name.” Sin let out a short burst of laughter, and failed at his attempt to cover it up with a cough.
“It’s not funny!”
“Sin is not my real name.”
I knew it!
“Thank fuck. See? It can be used to show relief. Now you try,” Cecil coaxed.
“Cecil!”
He decided then and there that he would never stop saying fuck. “So, what is your name then?”
“Sinclair.”
Cecil blanched—oh, that was so much worse than Sin.
“But my mother hated it as much as she hated the manwho gave it to me, so she shortened it. I have been ‘Sin’ for the majority of my life.”
“Guessing your parents didn’t get along.”
