“If we hadn’t been in the club last night, I wouldn’t have been able to stop.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin. “If it weren’t for our stupid leather pants, I’d have fucked you until my name was the only word you remembered.”
I gasped. Bodhi brushed his lips against mine. Not quite a kiss. Just a promise. The tease alone made my knees weak.
“You’re my friend, Iggy,” he went on quietly. “You’re an addict. I’m an addict. We’re both recovering.” His voice roughened. “But all I want to do is forget. Forget the edge we’re always standing on. Forget how easy it would be to fall back into the gutter. I just want to pretend we’re normal. For five fucking minutes.”
My chest rose and fell in shallow, desperate breaths. My hands shook so badly I thought the slightest breeze might knock me over. Every instinct screamed at me to grab him, to shove him back against the wall of this very public corridor and kiss him.
And the hunger in Bodhi’s eyes told me he wanted the same. Stormy blue, pupils blown wide. Barely holding on.
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his wrist. His pulse slammed against my thumb, wild and unsteady, just like my own.
“So,” I whispered. “Let’s pretend.”
“Iggy . . .”
“While we’re on tour, let’s pretend,” I said, tightening my grip. “We’re not addicts. We’re not fuckups barely trusted to function. You’re not a rock star, and I’m not an ex-ballet dancer or a makeup artist. We’re just two normal people.”
I closed the last inch between us. His hand slid from my chin to the back of my neck, firm and possessive, and I held his gaze.
“Pretend with me, Bodhi.”
His lips crashed into mine, and I moaned into the kiss, relief flooding my body so hard it almost hurt. In the light of day, I’d forgotten how intoxicating this felt. How euphoric. His tongue brushed my lips, and I opened for him without hesitation, letting him taste me fully. My toes curled inside my trainers as if my body didn’t quite know where to put all the sensation.
His grip tightened at my neck. I fisted the front of his T-shirt, pulling him closer. We were lost in it until a loud bang echoed somewhere in the building.
Reality snapped back.
We broke apart, breathing hard. His lips were swollen. His eyes wild. Hands clenched at his sides like he didn’t trust them not to touch me again.
I fucking loved this new, unseen version of him.
Another bang rang through the corridor. Without a word, Bodhi grabbed my wrist and hauled me along, bypassing the lift and yanking open the stairwell door. He took the steps two at a time, dragging me after him until my lungs burned.
We spiralled down floor after floor until he stopped in front of a maintenance cupboard on the second level. He looked back at me, question clear in his eyes.
I nodded once.
The door shut behind us and the lock clicked. Then his mouth was on mine again, urgent and hungry, pushing me back until I collided with what felt like a metal filing cabinet. The clang echoed loud enough that we froze, listening.
Nothing.
We didn’t hesitate again.
Bodhi’s hands slid under my hoodie, roaming upward until his fingers brushed over my pebbled nipples. I shuddered.
“You’re sensitive,” he murmured, voice low and wrecked.
I knew he was smirking even though I couldn’t see it.
So I reached down and cupped the front of his joggers, squeezing his hard length through the fabric. The heat of him filled my palm. He groaned and buried his face against my neck.
“You’re sensitive,” I shot back, squeezing in a slow, teasing rhythm.
His teeth bit into my shoulder, sharp and deliberate.
“We don’t have long,” he panted, hands sliding into the back of my leggings, gripping my ass. “And I’m not fucking you for the first time in a cupboard.”
I pressed my hips into his, letting him feel just how far gone I was.
