“You didn’t do anything wrong,”
“I didn’t do anything right either.” Kit dragged James down by the neck, not to kiss, but to stare directly into his eyes. “We’re dating,” he said sternly. “We’re together, we’re boyfriends, whatever you want to fucking call it. I’ve called you my boyfriend in front of Darius and Holden and basically everyone except for you.”
James didn’t realize he had grabbed Kit by the waist—up under his sweatshirt, only the thin fabric of Kit’s shirt between them—until Kit shuddered in his grasp.
“I’m just afraid to admit I’m attached to you.” Kit lowered his eyes. “Caring about people is scary.”
James touched Kit’s lips, then his throat. He loved the clear size difference between them, and the way Kit just barely pushed his throat harder against James’s hand. The sort of surrender that conquered them both. A faded bite mark hid under the shadow of Kit’s collar. James wanted to darken it again.
“That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” James said at last.
“Your standards are low.”
“My standards are proportionately sized,” James said with a wink. “Boyfriend. What changed?”
Kit understood. “I expected you to be mad. I didn’t expect you to be scared. It made me realize how stupid trying to hide the hit from you was. I didn’t want you involved, but if we’re together, you’re already involved.”
“Super involved.” James kissed his forehead. “I’m going to want a lot of details.”
Kit nodded. “Also, I kissed Darius, and that clarified some things.” He froze, suddenly nervous. “Um, if that’s okay?”
James licked his lip, too fascinated by Kit’s sudden hesitation to think of little things like jealousy. “What do you mean, if that’s okay? If it’s not okay, did you not actually kiss him?”
Kit poked him in the chest. “Asshole.”
James always had a thing for sharing, but he still expected some pang of jealousy at the confession. He liked sharing random hookups—but Kit was different. Yet all he felt now was interest.
Interest, and regret he hadn’t been there to watch.
It was hard to feel like anyone was stealing Kit when Kit threw himself emotionally at James like he never had before. When he was right here, belonging to James more than ever.
“That’s very okay,” James said, and Kit relaxed in his arms. “What exactly did kissing Darius clarify?”
“Um, that I like him. A lot.” Kit’s ears started turning pink under his windblown hair. “And that I must be a greedy slut, because I really like you too. And that I’m tired of pretending I don’t care about anything.”
James groaned and dove into a breathless kiss. Kit’s mouth still tasted like those sugary lattes, and James wanted to drink him down completely. It was easy when Kit whimpered and melted against him.
He had to hold Kit down by the hair to break away, panting against Kit’s wet lips. Kit squirmed, clearly, deliciously hard in his skinny jeans.
“I’m glad you figured that out,” James said, ragged. “Because I want you whether or not you’re pretending not to care. Whether or not you like Darius. And whether or not you’re a greedy little slut.” Kit shivered at his words, and James savoredthe look of him, already a mess with his sweatshirt slipping from his shoulder. Then he leaned down to growl into Kit’s ear. “Can I fuck you now, babe?”
20
“Is it weird to fuck in his bed?”
Kit’s every nerve sizzled at the thought. “Yeah, you can fuck me. But not on the balcony.”
The next second, Kit’s feet flew from the ground. Everything lurched—but even in his surprise, Kit instinctively clutched James’s shoulders. His legs hooked naturally over James’s hips. James held him up with just one arm under his ass, and the casual strength sent heat pooling low in Kit’s belly. His cock was already half-hard against James’s stomach.
Kit’s mouth was higher than James’s at this angle. He kissed the smile from James’s lips as they moved inside. James cupped the back of Kit’s head to cushion his skull as he slammed Kit against the wall, kissing him even harder.
Surrounded, held down, trapped and free at the same time. Kit couldn’t touch the floor, and he barely felt the solid wall behind him. All he felt was James holding him up.
Nipping at his lip, James massaged Kit’s ass through his skinny jeans. Kit moaned—and remembered something important.
Tearing his mouth away, Kit called out, “Darius?”
James blinked, then glared. “James. My name is James. You can hook up with Darius, but you can’t mix us up.”
