Page 47 of We Are Just Us

Rory’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “I am.”

He leaned in again, kissing along Kieran’s jaw this time, taking his time. His teeth grazed the hinge of Kieran’s jaw hard enough to make his spine go liquid. Kieran’s head tipped back, the plaster wall cool against his overheated skin. He was distantly aware that he was panting, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Rory’s palm slid from Kieran’s hip to his lower back, pressing flat beneath his shirt, fingers spreading wide, trying to cover as much skin as possible. Kieran’s entire body lit from the inside, his thoughts dissolving into pure static.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Rory murmured, his mouth still moving against the sensitive skin of Kieran’s throat.

Kieran swallowed hard, his hands anchoring in Rory’s hair. “I don’t.”

Rory exhaled against his skin, a shaky rush that told Kieran he’d been holding that breath all night long. He kissed lower—over his collarbone, trailing along the neckline of Kieran’s T-shirt—then paused, his forehead dropping against Kieran’s shoulder. The sudden stillness was intentional. A beat of raw restraint, giving Kieran room to change his mind.

Kieran didn’t.

His thumbs found the bare strip of skin where Rory’s shirt had ridden up, dragging them along the firm ridge of Rory’s hipbones. The older man shivered, a full-body tremor that traveled every point where they touched.

The shiver cracked open a primal part of Kieran. Hunger. Possessiveness. A fierce, reckless greed he hadn’t known he had in him.

Rory’s breath hitched. He pressed his mouth back to Kieran’s, kissing him harder now, less careful, and Kieran tasted the shift—the exact moment restraint thinned and want took over completely. The line between them dissolved. Neither of them pretended otherwise.

Rory’s palm slipped under the hem of Kieran’s shirt, callused against his bare stomach, and Kieran’s muscles contracted involuntarily at the contact. He let out a low, shuddering groan that Rory absorbed with his whole body.

Rory froze for half a second. Then he exhaled a quiet, breathless laugh against Kieran’s mouth and murmured, “Okay.”

His palm moved higher, dragging the fabric of the shirt up with it, exposing Kieran’s skin to the cool air of the hallway. Kieran arched into the touch without thinking, his body making decisions his brain had abandoned entirely.

“Shirt off,” Rory said, his voice dropping to gravel, already tugging at the hem.

Kieran lifted his arms, and Rory pulled the shirt over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it somewhere into the dark hallway. For a second, Rory stopped and looked at him, his eyes tracking across Kieran’s bare shoulders, down his chest, lingering with an intensity that made Kieran’s skin prickle.

Rory exhaled a ragged, unsteady breath.

Kieran’s face burned under the scrutiny. “You’ve already seen me shirtless at the beach.”

“Not like this.” Rory’s voice was low, thick. “Looking and touching are different things. I’ve been looking for a while, Kieran.”

Then he kissed him again, his palms skating up Kieran’s sides, his thumbs brushing his skin with a reverence that felt like a language Rory was finally being allowed to speak.

Kieran grabbed the hem of Rory’s shirt and yanked. “Your turn.”

Rory grinned against his lips, stepping back to pull the shirt off himself and fling it aside. The removal revealed the lean, defined muscle Kieran had only glimpsed before—shoulders broader than expected, a flat stomach, and a trail of dark hair disappearing into his waistband.

Kieran stared. He let himself stare.

“Like what you see?” Rory asked, his tone teasing, but his voice cracked on the very last word.

“Shut up,” Kieran muttered, and pulled him back in.

Skin on skin was an absolute revelation. The slide of Rory’s chest against his sent sparks cascading down Kieran’s back. Both their heartbeats hammered now—competing, frantic rhythms pounding against each other through their ribs. Rory’s mouth found his neck again, sucking gently at the junction of his shoulder.

Rory caught him instantly, a strong arm banding around his waist, pressing him harder against the wall. “I’ve got you.”

The promise in those words unraveled Kieran completely, stripping away the last thread of self-consciousness, the lingering voice in his head keeping score. Gone.

He reached down between them, his fingers fumbling with the metal of Rory’s belt buckle. Rory went entirely still, breathing hard against Kieran’s collarbone.

“Yeah?” Rory asked, his voice strained.

“Yeah,” Kieran confirmed, finally getting the belt open and popping the button of his jeans.