Chapter 18
Quinn
August looked like he’d just seen a ghost, which, in a hotel this old, wasn’t entirely out of the question. He stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide with his mouth slightly open, wearing an adorably dumbfounded expression that had Quinn biting back a laugh. It bubbled in his chest anyway, threatening to slip out as he leaned against the doorframe, enjoying every second of August’s flustered silence.
“Are you coming in or…?”
August snapped his mouth shut with a loud click and cleared his throat. “If you still want me to, then yeah.”
It was up for debate on whether this was the stupidest idea Quinn had ever had or the most brilliant, but they had made it this far, so there was no point in backing out now.
He stepped aside so August could pass the threshold, inwardly grumbling when the man had to duck his head to avoid hitting it on the doorframe. God, he was massive. Just like earlier that day, being in the room with him made the adequate space seem cramped.
“Good game,” Quinn said, hoping to break the awkward silence hanging between them. He crossed the room with casual ease and sank onto the edge of the bed, studying August as he slowly stepped closer.
At least he looked more grounded this time. His eyes were clearer, his movements steadier, and he wasn’t mumbling half-formed thoughts that made no sense, so it was an improvement. Quinn was tempted to ask August if he was dealing with insomnia, but the question felt too personal for the charged atmosphere of the moment.
“Thanks,” said August. “My head wasn’t hurting as bad, so that helped.”
Quinn nodded, suddenly hyperaware of how exposed he felt in his thin bathrobe. The fabric clung to his damp skin, cool against the heat lingering from his shower, turning the silk dangerously opaque.
“Are you still sure?” Quinn asked, needing to know the answer so he could finally silence the thoughts that had been swarming in his mind all day.
August didn’t bother answering with words. Instead, in one fluid motion that shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was, he pulled his shirt off and dropped it to the floor.
Quinn’s breath hitched. His gaze swept over August’s bare torso, tracing the lines of muscle and the faint scars he had acquired during his profession. The soft light from the bedside lamp highlighted the dark lines of ink on pale skin, painting the morbid picture of August being devoured by shadows in Quinn’s mind, but he pushed them away.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The tension built between them until it became too much, pushing Quinn to finally make the first move.
He rose from the bed, the silk of his robe brushing the tops of his thighs as he strode forward and reached out, confidently cupping the growing bulge of August’s cock through his sweatpants and squeezing.
The broken moan that slipped from August’s lips sent shivers racing down Quinn’s spine, and in that instant, every trace of doubt he’d had vanished. “Feel good?”
Quinn would have to stand on his toes if he wanted to kiss August’s mouth, so he settled for peppering his throat with them for now. He wanted to take things slow in case August changed his mind, but judging by the noises he was making and the way he was rolling his hips into Quinn’s touches, he was still on board.
“You have no idea,” said August. His big hand cupped Quinn’s jaw, holding it firmly in his grip as he tilted his head to press a kiss under his ear. “I think…I might be into guys.”
Judging by the cock throbbing in Quinn’s hand, August wasn’t wrong.
He remembered what August was like, and knew how things between them would go, but Quinn wasn’t interested in one-sided acts of pleasure. If August was committed to their deal, he would have to give up control, which was something he hadn’t been willing to do when they were teens.
“I want your mouth on my cock,” Quinn purred, hoping to entice the man who was currently sucking bruises onto his neck into doing what he wanted. “Think you could do that for me?”
He expected August to get defensive and start whining, but he was shocked when he let out another loud moan, his warm breath ghosting over Quinn’s sensitive skin.
“As long as you’re okay with me notknowing what the fuck I’m doing, I’m game.” August’s voice already sounded rough, and Quinn hadn’t even done anything yet.
Time to change that.
Quinn gently unhooked August’s fingers from where they were still gripping his jaw and regrettably let go of his cock. He guided August back to the bed, settling on the edge and tilting his head up to lock eyes with him. Slowly, he began to untie his robe and slipped it off his shoulders until August got the hint and went down on his knees.
“Speaking of tattoos,” August murmured, his icy blue eyes momentarily distracted by the artwork covering Quinn’s body.
His weren’t as uniform as August’s, but he had kept a similar theme throughout the years that typically involved skulls, bones and flowers. There was the occasional butterfly added throughout, but he preferred a macabre theme for his tattoos.
“Stalling?” Quinn asked, spreading his legs to redirect August’s attention to the task at hand, grinning smugly when it worked.
“Admiring,” August corrected. He timidly placed his hands on Quinn’s knees before slowly sliding them upward, and Quinn had to hold back a scoff when he saw how small his legs looked compared to August’s hands.
