Ciaran seemed stilted, nervous, and angry. If Sawyer was reading him correctly, it was almost as if Ciaranwasinterested in Sawyer, but he hated himself for it, and Fray found it hilarious.
Which was what Sawyer found confusing.
If Ciaran was interested, why was he mad about it?
Why was he so angry all the time?
Earlier, when Sawyer was at the pier, Ciaran had come over and initiated conversation. He’d seemed pleasant. Friendly, even.
But then every so often, he’d look at Sawyer as if he wanted to kill him.
Sawyer had never been one to hide his interest in a guy. Admittedly, he’d been sorely lacking in the action department these past few years, but if a guy looked twice at him in a bar—or hell, even in a supermarket—who Sawyer was certain wanted to scratch a particular itch, he had no qualms about putting his own willingness out there.
He didn’t have time for games. He’d certainly never had time for a relationship, so there was no point in beating around the bush if a particular itch needed scratching.
It was purely transactional.
Sometimes satisfying, mostly disappointing.
But Ciaran felt different.
Was Sawyer interested?
Hell yes. He couldn’t deny it. There was something about Ciaran Brenner that appealed to Sawyer. There was an energy between them, a pent-up sexual energy that Sawyer wanted to explore in ways he couldn’t describe.
Would it be wildly inappropriate for something to happen between them? Yes. Would it be just plain old stupid to pursue something with Ciaran? Also yes.
Was that going to stop him?
Sawyer didn’t think it would. Actually, he was beginning to think nothing would stop him.
That tension between them was pure fuel just waiting for a spark to ignite.
The way Ciaran looked at him, like he wanted to devour him or wanted to hurt him, made Sawyer’s blood run hot. Sawyer was sure that edge of danger, like Ciaran didn’t trust himself to control his emotions around Sawyer, would equal unrivalled passion if Ciaran would let himself give in, and let go.
And god, how Sawyer wanted Ciaran to let go.
The tension between them was strung so tight, it had to break soon.
The fact that he’d had sex dreams about him wasn’t helping.
If Ciaran did take him fishing, would they stay overnight as Fray had suggested?
Sawyer wouldn’t say no to camping out in some hut alone with Ciaran.
Did Sawyer think Ciaran would actually hurt him?
Was that the reason he wanted to get Sawyer alone?
No. Sawyer didn’t think so.
Did Ciaran look at him like he wanted to kill him? Sure. But then other times he looked at him as if he wanted to devour him, and it sent a shiver through Sawyer unlike anything he’d ever felt.
Maybe it had been too long. Maybe it had been a lifetime ago that Sawyer felt any kind of attraction, any kind of feeling.
Even if that feeling was purely sexual desire. Sexual tension. Sexual anything.
It had been far too long.
