Page 102 of Melting the Ice

Dean’s fingers tightened on his knee, and even though he didn’t say anything, Brody had a feeling he knew what he was thinking.

You got this. You did it, baby.

"Well, I’m really fucking gladthat’sover,” Brody said, as the door shut behind his parents.

After dinner, his mom had not very subtly insisted on coming by to see the apartment, by claiming she had a load of stuff in the car for him.

They’d stayed for at least ten minutes longer than Brody wanted, chatting on the couch about his classes, about the game tomorrow night, even about Dean’s game this weekend.

“It wasn’t so bad. I got a free steak out of it,” Dean said, leaning back on the couch, stretching his long legs out to their full length. “Besides, your parents are nice. Normal, even.”

“What even is normal?” Brody wondered.

What he really wanted to ask was how long his parents had to be gone for him to lean over and kiss Dean.

“Good question.” Dean grinned at him. “You got any others?”

“A suggestion,” Brody said.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “My bedroom, now?” he asked.

Brody laughed. “Okay, that mind reading was sort of freaky.”

“Freakyandhot, I hope?”

“Add it to the list,” Brody said and stood, reaching out for Dean’s hand, and he took it, squeezing it.

“If I didn’t say it, you did good,” Dean said, low and earnest as Brody paused in the doorway of Dean’s room.

He’d suggestedhisroom, but he’d only been in here a handful of times. It was neat, not surprisingly, and the bed was covered in a blue comforter.

“Thanks,” Brody said.

“I know it wasn’t easy.”

“You didn’t say it, but I felt it anyway.” But before he could say more, Dean cupped his cheeks and tilted him up for a kiss.

It was sweeter, gentler. Less fiery than he’d expected.

It was the kiss version of that touch on his knee.

But they couldn’t kiss, not when it felt as good as it did, and not have passion flame between them, hot and undeniable.

Brody groaned into his mouth as Dean captured it, their bodies stumbling back towards the bed.

“IknowI didn’t say this, but you’re goddamn hot,” Dean growled as his fingers made quick work of Brody’s shirt, tossing it on the floor, those big, calloused hands pushing him down on the bed.

“Thought I was pretty,” Brody teased, gazing up at him. There was nothing like the way Dean’s gaze fired when he pushed him.

“Hot, pretty, all I know is I can’t look away from you,” Dean said, and the confession sounded wrenched out of him. He leaned in, ghosting a hand over his cock, hard in his jeans.

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Brody said, arching into his touch. “You gonna make me feel good, baby?”

“Gonna do even better than that.” Dean pulled Brody’s jeans off, then his underwear, sliding them slowly down his legs, straightening as that intense gaze took in every single inch of his bare skin.

Dean was still dressed, and that was another turn-on Brody hadn’t considered before, but apparently worked for him anyway.

Also that look in his eyes . . .Brody’s cock twitched.

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