“You’re reacting just like a gay guy,sweetie.” His voice is rough, mocking, the endearment twisted into something cruel.
His hand slides down to my thigh, gripping firm and possessive, and I lose what little control I have left. My hips roll forward of their own accord, seeking friction, grinding against his knee.
I can’t stop. I can’t think. I can onlyfeel.
Devlin laughs—low and predatory. “Maybe I should call the whole team over. The ones you tried so hard to convince you weren’t gay? I think they’d love to see how you’re reacting to me right now. "
“No.” The word comes out pitiful, desperate. “Don’t—don’t call anyone.”
He pulls back suddenly, and I almost whimper at the loss of contact.
His dark eyes bore into mine, taking in my flushed face, my parted lips, the way I’m practically panting.
Several seconds of silence stretch between us, thick and suffocating.
“I guess, you win,” he rasps, his voice like gravel. “I’m keeping this to myself. I’ll never let another soul see you looking like this.”
Then his mouth crashes against mine.
It’s punishing, aggressive, his lips bruising against mine like he’s trying to prove a point. Like he’s angry at both of us.
But I don’t care.
This might be my only chance in life to kiss Devlin Bower, and I’m not going to waste it worrying about what he thinks of me. That ship has already sailed, burned, and sunk to the bottom of the ocean.
I kiss him back—uncertain, gentle, trying to match his intensity but not knowing how.
My hands come up to grip his wet shirt, and I move my lips against his, learning the shape of his mouth, the taste of rain and something darker.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters against my lips, and then he’s kissing me intensely, desperately, like he’s drowning and I’m air.
We crash together, all tangled limbs and gasping breaths. He’s breathing loudly into my mouth, biting my lower lip until I gasp, swallowing the sound.
His hands are everywhere—in my hair, on my waist, gripping my hip hard enough to bruise.
I’m lost in it, lost in him, and when my hips roll forward again, seeking the hard length of him, grinding our erections together—
He tears himself away.
His eyes are hazy and menacing all at once, his chest heaving.
He retreats a step, then another, his expression hardening into something glacial and lethal.
“You’ll pay for this too.” His voice is low, deadly. “I’ll make your life hell for trying to play me like this. And you know what? Your brother is no longer here to stop me.”
Then he’s gone, storming out of my room without a backward glance.
I stand there, stunned, watching the space where he was.
The door is wide open—has been open this entire time. Anyone could have walked by. Anyone could have seen us kissing.
And there’s a thunderstorm raging outside, lightning illuminating the hallway in brief, violent flashes, and Devlin just walked out into it without his jacket, without even closing the door behind him.
I give myself exactly one minute to process what just happened. To stand here with my back against the closet, my lips swollen, my body still thrumming with need.
Then I rush to the door, lock it, and press my back against the solid wood.
Holy heavens.
