“Dante.”
“Don’t say my name like that.”
Sid shifted, not seeming to notice his hips grinding against Dante’s until his eyelids fluttered a touch. “Like what?”
“Like a prayer or some shit. It sucks me in, and I can’t stop myself doing whatever you’re asking.”
“I’m asking you to be honest... with yourself, more than me.”
“You want me to tell you that getting off with you right now sounds so fucking good it would make me forget I’m a sorry sack of shit? Fine. Believe that. But I wanted you before I had a panic attack in your sister’s kitchen, so fuck you, man.” Dante detached himself from Sid and moved away towards the forest path that would take him back to the bungalow. One step. Two steps. Three. Then he stopped, unable to leave Sid behind.
Twigs crackled. Then Sid’s hands were warm on his shoulders, and his breath feathered Dante’s ear. “You’re not a sorry sack of shit, and I want you too. I just don’t want you to do something for the wrong reasons. Trust me, I’ve been there, and whatever abyss you’re searching for, when you find it, it’s never deep enough.”
Dante turned to face Sid. “I do trust you. Maybe it’s you who doesn’t trust me, and I don’t blame you for that. I just—Fuck.” He shook his head, exhausted by the push and pull that had flared between them since they’d met. “I want you, and that’s not going to change, whatever psychological bullshit reasons you think up for us not to do this.”
He leaned forward and took Sid’s mouth in a harsh, bruising kiss, tasting Sid’s earthy lips and his sweet tongue, claiming everything in a blood-pumping second before he pulled back, panting, and stepped away again.
Sid stepped forward, arms outstretched. “Nah. You don’t get to do that.”
Do what?But Dante didn’t say it. He gazed at Sid instead, feeling his sense of self slip away as desire andwantswept through him.
He stumbled, and Sid pushed him back and back and back until they were cloaked in darkness and he hit the broad trunk of an old oak tree.
Another sharp breath left Dante’s lungs.
Sid claimed his mouth before he could suck in another, kissing him harder than he ever had before, driving his tongue between Dante’s lips like a drowning man seeking air, all the while it was Dante who couldn’t breathe. Dante, who didn’t care if he asphyxiated right now as long as he died with Sid’s mouth on his.
He sank into the dance, yanking Sid tight against him, fitting their hard curves and planes together. His hands slipped beneath Sid’s clothes again, caressing his hips and then sliding up to his ribcage.So fucking smooth.
Sid shivered and nipped Dante’s bottom lip. “You make me crazy,” he panted. “I forget there’s anything wrong with me when you touch me like that.”
“There isn’t anything wrong with you. You’re perfect.” Dante silenced Sid’s reply with another kiss and wrapped every sense around how Sid’s lips felt against his. How warm his skin was beneath Dante’s palms. He kept the red-hot press of Sid’s groin at a distance, along with the throbbing pulse of his own hard length.Don’t look down. How far this went was up to Sid.
They kissed until their lips were raw, then Sid pulled back, breathing hard. “There’s so many things I want to do with you.”
Dante’s pulse clattered against his eardrums, blood rushing through his veins so hot and fast he could hardly see straight. His throat was dry. “Like what?”
Sid rubbed Dante’s chest with a smile that was as comforting as it was full of wicked heat. “I want to touch you... everywhere. And I want you to touch me too, but I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
“Lots of things.”
What scares you most?Dante didn’t need to articulate the question to know the answer. Sid was scared of failure. And wasn’t everyone, one way or another?Don’t pretend you know what it’s like for him. But Dante wasn’t. He couldn’t. For him, empathy wasn’t as easy as putting himself in another man’s shoes. It was a work in progress, forever and always.
He ghosted his hands down Sid’s torso, coming to rest on his hips again. “Being scared doesn’t mean it can’t be good.”
“I know.” Sid knocked his head on Dante’s chest.
Dante cupped the nape of his neck and tangled his fingers in Sid’s messy golden hair. He wondered if Sid was struggling to define what he wanted as much as he was. If his body was aching for something he didn’t quite understand.Doubt it. He’s not a basic bitch like you. He’s done this shit before.
Closing his eyes, Dante let Sid work it out in his own time. His heart told him kissing was enough, and it always would be as long as he got to hold Sid like this, but his imagination was a devil that couldn’t be tamed. Images flashed through his mind, of Sid on his knees, of Dante on his. Hands, mouths, leaves and twigs biting into his hands as he—
Sid popped the top button on Dante’s jeans.
Dante’s eyes flew open. Sid was staring at him, gaze hooded and hot. “I want you in my mouth,” he murmured. “Is that okay?”
“I—uh—” Dante’s brain shut down, words beyond him. He nodded and watched Sid’s hands as he slowly popped more buttons, eased Dante’s jeans over his hips and down his legs, and traced his cock through his underwear with one fingertip.