Page 69 of Fire & Ice

If the way that Tripp is kissing him back is any indication, he agrees. “So fuckin’ hot, Sir,” he mumbles as Leander’s mouth leaves his to bite at his jaw and suck on the tender skin of his neck. “God, Lee—Sir,that was so—” He growls and shivers, grabbing Leander’s hand and pressing it tight against his groin, where he’srock-hard in his pants.

“Yes,” Leander murmurs back, unable to come up with anything more articulate, and truly, ‘yes’really does cover the spread.

“Fuck me, Sir, right here, please,” Tripp pleads. “Lee, I want you so fuckin’ bad.”

Too caught up and aroused to correct Tripp’s bullshit—aside from a sharp tug to his hair—Leander fumbles with his belt and the closures on his own pants while Tripp yelps in excitement and does the same. Within seconds, both of their cocks are out and sliding together between their bodies, Leander yanking Tripp’s thigh up around his own as much as their (stupid, useless)pants will allow.

“Lick,” he commands, holding up his right hand in front of Tripp’s face, having to drop Tripp’s thigh so he can use the other to brace his weight against the wall. Tripp complies enthusiastically, drooling spit onto Leander’s hand in a way that leaves his mouth shiny-wet and tempting.Gorgeous.

“You’re a work of art,” Leander says softly, and Tripp blushes, shy expression turning wrecked as Leander closes his hand around both of them and strokes.

Thisis what he loves most about being with Tripp—watching him fall apart. Even out here, in this cold, dark, nasty alley, he’s like something that tumbled off of a cloud and fell straight from Heaven into Leander’s lap. So bright, so wonderful, so perfect, his pretty mouth falling open as his eyesdrift closed, head dropping back against the wall with a quiet thud.

I love you, Leander thinks, and so badly wants to say. I love you endlessly, ferociously, would lay down my life for you in an instant and not think twice.

To stop himself from blurting such things out loud, he leans forward and nips at Tripp’s lower lip, sucking it into his own mouth before letting go.

“Kiss me, please,” Tripp pants, his eyes cracking open hazy and lovely, andhow—howcould that make Leander love him more?

They rock together, somehow both rushed and desperate, clinging to each other and chasing a high that’s rooted in violence and discord, but also exceedingly gentle and soft. Tripp comes moaning and sighing with Leander’s tongue in his mouth and then drops to his knees, swallowing him down and carrying him over the edge in under a minute.

When it’s over, the two of them stand in the cold with foreheads pressed together for entirely too long. Their pants are still unbuttoned, and both of them are beginning to shiver and freeze in the unforgiving night air. Tripp is the first to look up, meeting Leander’s gaze with one that’s so full of varying emotions, Leander doubts he could trust himself to list them. What he says, though, is the real surprise.

“I’msofuckin’ tired,” Tripp declares with a bitten-off laugh, which makes Leander laugh, which breaks whatever weird tension might have been hanging between them.

“I’ve never agreed with you more,” he says mildly. “I’m sure the cops have gone by now, and if not—we’ll cross the street and come from that direction, I doubt anyone will pay us any mind.”

“Thank God,” Tripp groans as he does up his pants, and Leander follows suit. “I can’t wait to get into bed.”

They begin their walk down the alleyway towards the main street, slightly apart. “I can’t wait to get into bed withyou,” Leander says softly, reaching out his hand. Tripp pauses, glancing from Leander’s face to his fingers and back again, wearing an expression that can’t easily be deciphered. Just as Leander’s about to worry, he not only accepts the offer, he uses Leander’s hand to yank him bodilyinto his side and kiss him soundly.

“I needed that,” is what Tripp tells him when they part, all soft eyes and a tired smile, so Leander simply nods, somewhat dazed. More to the point, though, Tripp doesn’t let go of his hand.

New,Leander finds himself thinking.This is new.

“Tripp,” he says carefully, after a minute, as they continue making their way towards the street and the car. “What…what are we doing here? You and I?”

Next to him, Tripp licks his lips and shrugs, but to his credit, he doesn’t rattle off some bullshit answer about ‘stress relief’. “I don’t know, Lee,” he replies, tone revealing nothing. “You got any ideas?”

“No,” Leander readily admits. “But, I…I’m not unhappy with it. I like…” He trails off, searching, not wanting to say something he regrets and can’t take back. This day has been alotfor both of them, and the worst thing Leander could do right now would be to push Tripp into confronting something that he isn’t ready to deal with.

But Tripp just nods and brings Leander closer to his side by way of their joined hands. “Alright,” he says easily. “I’m good with that.”

Leander supposes that for now, he’ll have to be good with that too. Surprisingly, he is.

Chapter 9

A morning like this after a night like the last shouldnotfeel so good. Or maybe—fuck,is this how it feels to have arealpartner? In life, in crime (literal, this time), in—nope, not there yet,Tripp thinks to himself, wiggling down into the mattress and refusing to open his eyes, pupils protesting against the tendril of sun leaking around the far edge of his bedroom curtain.

Next to him, Leander is snoring, heavily enough that Tripp can’t imagine him waking anytime soon.Good,he thinks. It’s not that he doesn’t want to interact with Lee, he’s justbaskingright now.He isn’t ready to break this feeling yet, this sense of peace, tranquility, and relief that’s infusing the morning stillness. Reasonably sure that he won’t be caught, Tripp cracks one eye open and checks out the situation in his room. What he sees has a smile spreading across his face that he couldn’t suppress if he tried.

An unconscious Leander is wrapped around Tripp’s spare pillow, treating it like a life preserver floating in the middle of the ocean. Usually, that’s Tripp’s job in the bed, and actually, he’s not entirely convinced Lee doesn’t think the pillow is him. Especially since their legs are tangled together underneath the covers, leaving Leander sleeping at a weird angle, one that has his body taking up the majority of the mattress space.

Tripp doesn’t even care. Fuck, he’d let Lee starfish on top of his face (mind out of the gutter, Truett)if that’s what he wanted, if that’s what wasneededto make himstay.Not that Lee has even remotely required something so lame as areasonto spend the night beside him, not for a long time now.

Even last night, outside of a scene and absent any good excuse other than a severe lack of beds, Leander didn’t blink.Tripp honestly wasn’t sure what he might do, since after all, the surprise lack of groomsmen meant ample couch and floor space were available. Separating was never on the table in Lee’s mind, though.

The two of them stumbled into Tripp and Beau's shared apartment long before the rest of the groomsmen—well, whatever was left of them, anyway—made it back from the scene of the crime. In all likelihood, the group was either stuck cleaning up the mess at the restaurant, or drinking away the memory of it over at the Hot Plate. Beau isn’t him, though, so Tripp’s betting on the former. It sucks that this is how the night before his brother’s wedding went down, but Tripp only feels minutely guilty about that. After all, Beau is the one who brought that douchebag into their lives, and Tripp haszeroregrets about the way Leander effectively escorted him out.

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