“I’m making things right with this job.” Roman reached for Wyatt’s hands. It was an instinct, buried somewhere deep underneath all the ice separating them. Wyatt didn’t pull away, his hands closing around Roman’s and feeling like a small piece of home. “You’ve got to trust me—I won’t ever hurt you or betray you. I’m going to make it all up to you, alright?”
Wyatt sucked in a deep breath, eyes pinned to Roman’s, searching for any signs of a lie. Roman wanted to kiss him, claim him all over again. He could practically taste Wyatt on his tongue, feel his body writhing and grinding. Roman’s cock twitched against his thigh, swelling with need, his body reacting to the memories of their heat.
“We’ll see,” Wyatt said, pulling his hands back and slipping them into his pockets. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple working as a target for Roman’s lips. Would that make him angry, if Roman pushed in for a kiss? Or would it open up the floodgates?
Only one way to find out.
And Roman went in, completely shocked by the reaction he received.
Chapter 10
Wyatt Hernandez
An arm’s length away. That’s all Wyatt told himself he had to do to keep sane. He just needed to cosplay as Bubble Boy and separate himself from Roman at all times, making sure none of their body parts ever touched, none of their matches ever lit. It sounded easy, considering how much resentment and anger Wyatt still held on to, aimed directly at the man of the hour. He should have been able to sidestep Roman’s kiss and tell him to fuck off. It would have kept things simpler, cleaner, easier.
Except the only step Wyatt made was forward, accepting the kiss and instantly being thrown back to when they were together, blindly in love and passionately expressing it. There’d be hours of play between them, sending Wyatt to Mars and back, blowing his brain each and every time. Wyatt hadn’t been able to find that kind of chemistry again, not that he’d been working hard to look for it in the first place.
Still, the reminder of it was enough to pop whatever flimsy bubble Wyatt had tried to form around himself. The anger was still there, no doubt about that, but it now coiled itself like a waiting viper, ready to lash out once the flames of passion died down.
“Fuck,” Roman said against Wyatt’s lips, his body like a solid column of muscle against Wyatt’s. “I’ve really missed this.” He smiled into another kiss. Wyatt felt the exact same, but he wasn’t about to say it out loud, answering instead by grabbing Roman’s head and steering so that his tongue slipped deeper, swirling around Roman’s. It was a taste he remembered clearly, indescribable and yet addictive all the same.
With their hips pushing against each other, grinding to the invisible beat of their kiss, it was easy for Wyatt to feel how turned on Roman was by this, and that drove him wild. His cock stiffened to match Roman’s, both of their shorts doing a terrible job at holding back how excited they both were.
Wyatt reached down and stroked Roman’s length, feeling it pulse from underneath the soft fabric. He licked his lips, still wet with Roman’s kiss. “This is crazy.”
“Things are going to get crazier, Wyatt. This job isn’t going to be easy. The Pride is going to try to fuck us up at every step of the way, so let’s make sure we enjoy tonight.”
Roman had his hands down Wyatt’s shorts, fingers sliding between his ass. Wyatt let his head fall back against the thick glass, looking up just as two manta rays drifted past. This had to be some kind of twisted dream. Wyatt was a fan of logic, and that really seemed to be the only logical explanation available to him. Either that or a gas leak that had him passed out in his bedroom.
“God, it feels so good to have you in my hands again.” Roman nipped at Wyatt’s neck as he spoke, Wyatt’s eyes rolling back as a wave of pleasure crashed over him. He pushed back on Roman’s hand, moaning when Roman’s finger rubbed over his hole.
“We shouldn’t—”
“We should. This is what you and I were made to do. To worship each other.” His tongue traced a line up Wyatt’s neck, flicking across his earlobe, his husky breath caressing the side of Wyatt’s face and sending a tremble down to his knees. Every warning sign was going off; every single flashing red light was bright and angry, telling him to stop immediately. Roman had ruined his life once before and was only just beginning to apologize for it. He didn’t deserve to be kissing Wyatt, to be holding and squeezing and pressing and stroking and—
“There aren’t any cameras in here, right?” Wyatt asked, shooting a glance toward either end of the curving tunnel, no sign of anyone in sight.