Page 27 of Melting the Ice

“Do you think we should . . .uh . . .do it again? Just to make sure?”

Dean cleared his throat. “We could. You know, for science?”

“Exactly. Can’t do an experiment just once.”

“You’re the bio major, so I guess you’d know.”

“We gonna just keep talkin’ about it ordoit?” Brody teased, eyes glinting with amusement.

Dean decided that was enough of an invitation, and this time, it was him who leaned in, pressing his mouth gently to Brody’s.

This kiss was a little longer than the first.

It was definitely nothing like kissing a girl; soft but not really so soft, at all. But that didn’t change the way Dean’s blood fired as he fit his mouth carefully and deliberately over Brody’s.

Brody tilted his head, to find a better angle, and their lips slid together, searching and retreating.

He tasted like beer, and something else, something unexpectedly sweet.

Dean’s blood was pounding now, and he curled his fingers into himself, so he wouldn’t reach out and touch Brody the way they kept wanting to. Then Brody reached over and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing once, briefly.

Arousal flared inside him. He wanted that touch everywhere, sliding lower down across his chest, his stomach, then lower still. He wanted to feel Brody’s hand around his cock.

Dean sprang back, suddenly, and then regretted it. Only because he wasn’t kissing Brody any longer. But he’d stopped because that thought had fucked him up. He didn’t want Brody to touch him like that. Or did he?

Oh, he did.

“Well, that . . .uh . . .” Brody stumbled over his words, and it made Dean feel a little better. Maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling unmoored by the direction this evening had taken.

“What is it about science experiments? Don’t you need to repeat everything three times?” Dean could hear the plea in his voice. Didn’t even care anymore if Brody heard it, too.

“You’re a physical education major,” Brody whispered, but the corner of his mouth was quirking up. The mouth Dean had just been kissing.

The mouth Dean wanted tokeepkissing.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He knew jack shit about science, only that he needed this experiment to not be over because it felt like it had barely begun.

Even when Dean had broken their kiss before, Brody still hadn’t let go of his shoulder. Now he curled his fingertips into his T-shirt, and Dean felt his touch through the worn cotton. Tugged him closer, with just that touch. And Dean went, because he couldn’t do anything else.

They met in the middle, and this time the kiss wasn’t hesitant and it wasn’t so gentle, either. It was sure, and then Brody’s other hand reached to pull him even closer. Dean went, and hesitantly touched Brody, too, fingers brushing his shoulder, then his sternum.

Brody’s T-shirt was newer, the fabric thicker, and Dean wanted more, wanted to feel the warmth of his skin, and so without even thinking, he tugged down the collar andGod, he’d never mistake this for touching a girl and that didn’t even matter. Brody’s skin was soft and hot. The ripple of muscle beneath his fingers. Tough and vulnerable at the same time, an intoxicating combination that Dean hadn’t even known he craved until this moment.

Brody groaned, deepening the kiss, and Dean swore he felt his tongue, just for a split second, but enough of a touch that his blood lit up, his cock throbbing in his jeans now.

He wanted him. There was no point in shying away from it or pretending otherwise. And Dean was pretty sure Brody wanted him, too.

Abandoning his exploration of Brody’s exposed skin, he slid his hand down and curled it around his waist, and with barely any effort, shifted him backward, against the old, worn out pillows that flanked each side of the couch.

Brody froze for a second, and Dean worried he’d overstepped. They were being careful, still,mostly. Their kisses were still only PG-rated, even though the thoughts flying through his head were increasingly X-rated.

But he didn’t want to scare Brody away. He didn’t want to scarehimselfaway.

Brody lifted his mouth and Dean was more than a little relieved to see he was panting, T-shirt rising and falling with his breath, all that brown sugar in his eyes nearly swallowed up by his big black pupils.

“This feels good,” Brody said.

Wrong.

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