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Fix It Up (Torus Intercession 3)

Page 85

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Desmond Landau was a big man. He wasn’t as heavily muscled as me, but it was a close thing. The fact that Nick had taken it upon himself to not only threaten him but make him laugh nervously, spoke volumes. He hadn’t been laughing at me; he’d been trying to convey to Nick that it was all just a big misunderstanding.

I lifted my face from his hands and took a step sideways to walk over and sit down on the bed. After a moment, I fell back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

“Why would you ever think I would do that?”

“More importantly,” I said, realizing something about myself, “why would I care if you did?”

He moved over to stand in the V of my legs. “I don’t think you care if anyone knows that you bottom or top. It doesn’t define you, and you’re scary enough to know that.”

“I don’t feel scary at the moment.”

“Well, you are,” he assured me, moving, thinking better of whatever he was going to do and lying down beside me. “People see you, and until you smile or speak to them in that coaxing way you have, you scare the crap out of them.”

I grunted.

“Flint told me he almost pissed his pants when you glared at him.”

“I don’t remember glaring at him.”

“Well, now he’s coming home with us to get better, so yay,” he said sarcastically.

“He’s your friend.”

“Yes, I know, but I’d prefer he go to Gamblers Anonymous and not horn in on my time with you. I mean, I just got you. I had big plans for us to be all alone after this.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

“No. I don’t want to hear that from you now. Until we get back to Santa Barbara, you promised to––”

“But look what just happened. I didn’t even let you explain; I just jumped to the wrong conclusion and figured you were sharing everything about me, and that’s just––”

“Stop,” he ordered, turning on his side and bracing himself on his elbow, staring down into my face. “We don’t know each other yet, not really. I mean, I’ve been a spoiled brat for almost the entirety of our time together, and now, suddenly, you’re supposed to trust me because I say so?”

I sat up and stared out the window at the night sky, at the clouds and the big, bright moon that gave a soft ambient glow to the otherwise dark room. “You really should go back downstairs. Everyone is here to see you, and it’s not fair that––”

“Don’t do that,” he whispered, feathering his fingers through my hair before he tightened his hand and turned my head so I could see him. “Don’t withdraw behind the whole professional-mask thing of yours.”

“Nick––”

“And that kid thing was really shitty.”

“Sorry,” I said automatically.

“You’re not sorry. You actually believe the whole, ‘you’re young, and I know what’s best for you’ crap you spew.”

“I do know what’s best for you, though,” I said tiredly.

He shook his head. “I lost my shit out there,” he confessed, grimacing. “I mean, Desmond—and I had to ask someone who the fuck he was, because I met so many people today I had no clue—but Desmond, Dez, I guess…he’s a handsome man. And that handsome man was sitting there flirting with you, talking to you for hours while I was up there singing, watching you the whole time, and you guys are drinking with other guys first, and then it’s just the two of you.”

I turned my head to look at him.

“And then he was leaning in with his arm around your shoulder, and I saw him turn his head, and his mouth was––” He caught his breath. “––Jesus. I almost yelled, but I got up instead and walked over there and––”

“I was moving,” I told him. “I was getting up.”

“Yeah, I saw.”

“I mean, yeah, I’m a little out of it, but when I felt his breath on my skin, I––”

“Here,” he said, slipping his hand around the side of my neck, stroking, drawing me close. “I saw his lips part, and he was going to taste this spot right here.”

“I would never have let him.”

“I know,” he husked, closing the space between us to kiss me.

It was gentle for a moment, before he slipped his tongue between my lips, parting them and then devouring my mouth, hungrily, possessively, pushing me down until I was flat on my back, and still he took and claimed until I had to shove him off me for air.

“Nick,” I moaned softly. “You need to––”

“Tell me, and don’t lie,” he demanded gently between voracious kisses. “Are you embarrassed that you love to bottom?”

“No,” I said truthfully. “It’s what I like most of the time. Sometimes I don’t, but it has nothing to do with me outside of this room.”

“Then you were hurt because you thought I shared something that was just between us.”



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