I stay sitting, anchored to the chair for as long as I can stand it. Just watching, letting the war play inside my skull as I try to recall Eden's voice and the promises I made to myself. But all I can hear is the blood pounding in my ears, and all I can see is how Carey is lingering near the window.
I want to touch him.
I want to run my hands down his back, dig my fingers into his shoulders, and devour his stomach.
I stand, throwing the camping chair back, and stomp through the cold straight to the van—every step is pure adrenaline.
When I yank open the door, I do it so hard it rattles on the tracks and slams against the stops. The air inside hits me like steam from a furnace, and there stands Carey; his back to me. Nothing but tan lines and the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen. He doesn’t flinch, then after what feels like forever, he looks over his shoulder with a glance that sayswhat took you so long?
He's so beautiful. Not just in the conventional way, but in the way that makes you feel sick with desire.
He turns slowly, knowing exactly how perfect he is.
The towel is in his hands, the majority of it hanging loose like an impeccably placed prop.
His body is lean and toned without an ounce of fat, but he doesn’t really have defined muscles either; no visible abs or large pecs. His hair is a mess, his lips are full, and I want to tear that towel away from him.
He cocks his head to the side and looks down at me. Like I never hurt him—like I never told himno.“Do you have something to say?”
“I want you.”
“I can’t hear you. You’ll have to come closer.”
I step into the van because I never stood a fucking chance.
His chin tilts up just enough that he’s looking down his nose at me. “Now, what were you saying?”
His authority makes me feel like there’s liquid fire in my veins.
Anxiety still wells in my chest like the rising tide, until he touches my arm and I fall like a house of cards. “I want you, Carey. I want to remember what it feels like to belong to someone.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t?”
“So make me.”
He drops the towel but the power in his eyes holds my focus.
He’s testing me again, and I’m living for every second of it.
Without another word he unzips my jacket, pushes it off my shoulders and slides it off my arms. When he’s judged that I’m not going to put up a fight, he grabs the hem of my hoodie and I lift my arms, allowing him to peel it and my t-shirt off.
Carey runs his hands over my chest, his gaze following his fingertips as they trace over my abs and sides until he’s at the waist band of my sweats. He bites his bottom lip and the plump flesh blooms deep pink when he releases it.
With his head still down, he looks at me again. “What do you wanna do, Tek?”
“I wanna kiss you, and… I haven't wanted to do that to anyone in more than ten years.”
He exhales, his power wavering for a split second before his hand is on the back of my neck.
I crash my mouth into his and something inside me comes violently unhinged.
His hands are in my hair right away, needy and clawing.
Mine are just as desperate—one gripping his bare ass, the other wrapped around his middle so I can get him as close to me as possible.
The skin-on-skin is electric, but we’re a mess, like neither of us can coordinate enough to lead, but holy shit if this isn’t the most turned on I’ve ever been in my entire life.
The hunger I have for Carey is truly theonce in a lifetimekind.
