“No, that…that I got,” I said, and I hated the nervous, unsure quality in my voice.
Yet what I hated the most was how…aware of him I suddenly was, and how close. He’d thrown a jacket on before following me, but he hadn’t bothered to zip it up for the short walk, and his shirt was still damp enough to cling to his skin. The collar had drooped slightly, exposing pale skin and the jut of his collarbone, which my brain found strangely fascinating in a way that ran completely contrary to forty-two years of heterosexuality.
And his eyes, oh how it felt like they were piercing directly into my skull with their hostility and refusal to back down. I had grown so used to people losing their shit on me for the way I was, showing fear of my attitude, or just avoiding me, I had almost forgotten what it was like to have someone stare me down unflinchingly. He was frustrated; he was mad, but he wasn’t losing his cool because he had a point to make. He wasn’t going to back down either.
We were so close, I could see the light freckles splashed across the bridge of his nose and under his eyes. I didn’t know how I’d never seen them before, but then I couldn’t help but see them. Just like every time I saw him, I couldn’t help but see the image of his hard body under the spray of the shower, his dick hard and in his hand as those golden eyes went wide and met mine.
Uncertainty flickered across his gaze, and I wondered what it was he could see in my face right then, because even I couldn’t say what my expression held. All I knew was that I was caughtup by him, by a memory, and by feelings that should have never existed, and I…didn’t know what to do with that.
“You know,” he said with a laugh that I could only call nervous. “When I made that comment about bending me over, I was joking, but Jesus Christ, right now I’m getting the feeling that you’re actually thinking of taking me up on the offer.”
I might not have known what was on my face, but I felt the moment my brain broke completely and I lost the ability to say anything, not agreement, not disagreement, just…staring at him as I tried to get my brain to reboot.
The laughter died on his face as, to my horror, I could see realization dawn. “Uh…Xander? You, uh…that whole ‘I can’t figure out what you feel about me’ thing? That’s just had something added. So you could really help me here by just…doing something.”
I opened my mouth to tell him no; I did not in fact want to take him up on the offer that had been so flippant, that he needed to get his shit together in the future and if he was going to lead people, he needed to have better control of situations. Except…except he’d had control, hadn’t he? I knew damn wellsomethinghad happened before I showed up, but the situation had already been well in hand, and I knew that.
Just as I knew I felt part of my mind contemplating what it would be like to pry the shirt off his skin and press my hand against his chest. I was not in my right mind.
“I can’t,” I said instead, and his eyes widened with even greater shock.
“You’re…” he began, and something else crossed his face, something curious.
“Fine, I’m…fine,” I said hoarsely, knowing right then and there I was lying through my teeth. Things were anything but fine, but there I was anyway. Staring down the barrel of the first ever challenge to my sexuality…and I couldn’t pull away.
“You know, I never considered the possibility that you might take me seriously about that bending thing,” he said, slowly at first, gaining speed with confidence as he continued. “That probably slipped out because I still remember how we were introduced…and the worst part? Under all that embarrassment, because there was plenty of it, I remember thinking this place was overflowing with good-looking guys, and I hadn’t even met Trevor, Mika, Mav, or Carter at that point but they all fit the bill.”
Annoyance flickered through me, and its heat was enough to lift the fog in my head so I could find actual words. “Is that what you thought?”
Amusement I didn’t understand flashed in his eyes. “Yep, and the thing I remembered clearest was that, despite being mortified, I not only got caught by my boss, but by the hottest-looking guy on the team. And having met everyone now, they’re all still hot, but you? You’re still the hottest. I wonder if that’s why that comment slipped out, some…wishful thinking.”
The fog was clearing because of the heat inside me. The heat wasn’t frustration and rage, but something boiling away in my lower gut, in my groin. I cleared my throat. “You…thought I was the hottest?”
“Think,” he said simply, and my mind was delayed in realizing he was correcting me.
“You think I am,” I clarified after the understanding.
“So…I’m going to do something,” he warned me, and I had to swallow hard.
Because I realized. “You’re about to do something stupid.”
“The first time we met, I did something stupid, so why be surprised that I’m about to do something stupid again?” he said with a chuckle. “But I am going to do something; it might be stupid, it might not. If you don’t like it, you’re a big boy, you know how to use your words; I’ve seen proof of that much atleast. Just say, or stop me yourself. But I’m giving you a heads up otherwise we might end up staying here all night, staring at each other.”
All I could manage was a tight jerk of my head, giving him permission to do whatever he was thinking about, even if it was stupid. This whole thing was stupid, but some voice in my head wondered why worry about one more stupid thing?
One of his hands closed around my wrist, and despite the cool dampness of his skin, it was warm as his fingers closed around mine. It was a small, simple thing, and yet the intimacy added to the fuel in my gut as I stood there, still frozen in my own idiocy. When his other hand moved toward my body, I felt a flash of panic as he reached toward my midsection. No, he couldn’t touch me, not there, not when I didn’t know what was going on… well, I had a good idea what was going on in my brain even though it should never have happened in the first place but that would be too much, that would be?—
His hand rested right in the middle, palm pressing against my upper stomach, fingers splaying to press against my chest, as if trying to get a sense of my breathing, of the distant beat of my heart. There it sat as he stared at me and I looked back at him; I realized he hadn’t been lying or joking. There was genuine interest in his eyes, for me. I was looking at a man who was turned on…and he was turned on by me.
The thought was dizzying in how much shock it carried, and I felt it send a jolt of electricity through me, allowing me to move. It was another small thing, turning the arm that he held so my fingers wrapped around his arm, the two of us hanging onto one another. The other hand was moving too, and I grabbed his other arm just above the elbow, as if to support my weight.
I knew he could feel the thunderous beat of my heart despite his hand not being pressed over it, and I wondered if he could tell I was having a hard time breathing. I was pulling him tohis feet, and he was rising until he stood before me. His bulk was less than mine, I remembered, and he stood a few inches shorter than me. It was enough difference that my body could comfortably cover his.
“Another stupid thing then,” he said softly, and though I could see his wariness, I could see growing boldness as well.
He pulled his hand from my midriff and brought it up to rest on the back of my neck in almost the same way I had held him when I’d kept him from falling in the clinic. He gave a tug, enough to make his point but not insistent. It felt like the point of no return, and I remembered I could bail out if I didn’t want this. And perhaps I could, before this went too far, before it was too late and I was lost to whatever the hell was happening.
I leaned forward, our lips met, and as the fire inside me built to a roar, I realized I had probably been lost from the moment I had first seen him.