Page 73 of Asystole

“I would’ve thought that’s a good thing. You never have to wonder what I’m thinking,” he argues, his cheeks turning darker by the second.

“The problem is that when you’re thinking that you want my mouth on you or you’re trying to picture what’s under my flight suit, I can read that, too.”

“Okay, come on. I had half a bottle of bourbon flowing through my veins, and you’re an attractive guy. Plus, I got a little caught up in the whole kiss at midnight thing, and Kendra wasn’t there. And the other day in the stairwell, I was running on two hours of sleep, had just watched you do this incredible thing like it was no big deal at all, and I was missing you. We haven’t exactly hung out lately,” he explains, providing excuse after excuse.

“Mmm,” I hum. “And now? Have you caught up on sleep now?”

“Yeah. Last night was awesome. I got like ten hours.”

“And have you started drinking?”

“What?” Chase laughs, not yet understanding what’s happening. “No, man. It’s only noon.”

“Right,” I say as I stand up, stripping my hoodie and T-shirt over my head, tossing them into the recliner.

“What are you doing?” Chase asks.

“Proving a point,” I answer, stalking toward him on the couch.

“And you have to be half naked to do that?”

He’s nervous because he’s finally caught on.

And he knows he’s fucked.

“Yep.”

When I reach him, I move his laptop to the coffee table behind me, push his shoulders so his back is against the back of the couch, and straddle his lap. Chase immediately uncrosses his arms and moves his hands to my hips.

Fuck, they feel good there.

He’s avoiding my gaze. Instead, I watch as his eyes scan each of my tattoos.

“Chase.”

When I say his name, he slowly tilts his head back and looks up at me.

Just as I’d suspected, his pupils are blown to hell. Blackened by desire, they’ve swallowed every trace of his green irises.

“What are you thinking?” I whisper.

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me since, apparently, it’s written all over my face?”

His attempt at an indignant tone is adorable.

Placing my mouth next to his ear, I tell him every filthy thing his eyes just said to me.

“You want me to take away your choice by pushing this experiment so you can feel my lips on yours again without feeling guilty. You want me to drop all my weight onto your lap and roll my hips so you can feel my cock grind against your stomach, knowing it was you that made me hard. You want to taste my mouth again while your hands trace the ink on my sides. You want to know what it feels like to have someone come undone so fucking easily for you. You don’t want to have to explain yourself; you just want me to take from you, and you don’t want me to stop until your balls are drained dry.”

I’m torturing myself, but fuck, this is already so far out of hand that if I’m in for a penny, I might as well be in for a pound.

Chase moans when I bite down on the flesh beneath his ear before continuing my verbal assault.

“You want to fully experience what makes Hanlon attracted to men. You want to know why I’m attracted to men. And most importantly, you want to know why you’re attracted to me. You want to know if the way that kiss made you feel was a fluke, or if it’s like that. Every. Single. Time.”

Chase produces a shaky exhale as I sit back, bringing my face within an inch of his and look him dead in the eye.

“How am I doing with those thoughts?”