Page 39 of Virgin Skin

“He must have loved that.” I laugh, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the space.

“He said he had plenty of options and then disappeared into a mass of writhing, half-naked men on the dance floor. He’ll be fine.” He reaches over to put his hand on my thigh, my muscles tense and then relax.

Everything inside of me feels jumpy and overexcited. I pull to a stop at a light and take the opportunity to glance at Milo. A streetlight outside the car casts shadows over his face. He’s leaning back in his seat, a relaxed smile on his swollen lips.

As if he can feel my eyes on him, he looks over and meets my gaze.

“Hey, Piston?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t freak out when we get home, okay?” He squeezes my thigh. “I really want this.”

I swallow around the guilt threatening to rise in my throat and let out a humorless laugh.

“I promise to save all second thoughts for the morning.”

His dimple appears again as his smile widens. “Deal.”

Chapter 14

MILO

Even with his promisenot to freak out tonight, I hold my breath all the way back to the house. If we get there and he decides to let an attack of conscience change his mind, I might die of blue balls. I can still smell Zeke and Luther’s cologne clinging to my clothes, but the scent of leather and Piston’s bodywash permeating the car overpowers it little by little as we drive. Whatever radio station Jag put on earlier is still playing, but I can barely hear the music over my pulse in my ears and my racing thoughts.

I keep replaying the moment Piston pushed me up against the wall and shoved his tongue between my lips. My cock throbs as the mental GIF runs on a loop. I lick my lips over and over, chasing the lingering taste of his mouth on mine until it’s completely gone and my lips feel raw. And neither of us says another word. Is he as afraid as I am that if we do, he’ll find an excuse to talk himself out of whatever is about to happen?

My phone vibrates in my pocket as we get off the highway back in Fall Crosse. I slip it out of my pocket and see a messagenotification. I’m expecting it to be from Jag, giving me more shit about my obvious lie, but instead it’s from an unknown number.

UNKNOWN: Hey, this is Zeke. Hope you don’t mind that your friend gave us your number. He asked us who you left with, and we lied and said we didn’t know since we didn’t know what the deal was. Anyway, hope the plan worked and that you have a fun night! We had fun with you though and just wanted to let you know if you want to hang (as friends!) we’re around.

I smile, save Zeke’s number, and text back that I’ll definitely hit him up to hang out soon. The two of them turned out to be pretty cool and funny. Fuck knows I could use some of my own friends if I’m going to be sticking around for a while.

Piston glances over at me as I shove my phone back into my pocket, curiosity written all over his face as he takes the final turn towards home. He doesn’t come right out and ask, even though I can tell he’s dying to. Would it be wrong of me to give one last push to make sure I don’t lose him in the home stretch? Fuck it, go big or go home.

“That was Zeke. He just wanted to tell me he had fun dancing and that I should text him if I want to get together with him and Luther sometime.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens and I bite back a triumphant grin. His nostrils flare as he pulls into his driveway and cruises down the length of it, straight into the open garage. I jerk forward, my seat belt catching against my chest as he slams into park. He whips his seat belt off with one hand, using the other to turn the key in the ignition at the same time. I barely have a chance to take my own belt off before he’s out of the car and storming around to my side. My hands shake with unrestrained excitement as I reach for the door handle.

Piston beats me to it, yanking my door open and hauling me out of the car by the front of my shirt. I didn’t know it was possible to be rough and tender at the same time, buthe manages it, manhandling me as he forces me to my feet, slamming our mouths together, then sighing gently against my lips like they’re all the relief he needs from whatever unruly storm is raging inside of him.

We stand there just like that for a minute, caught in a greedy, slow, tongue-heavy kiss, my shirt wrapped around his hand while mine slip under his clothes to soak up the heat of his skin.

That first night I brought him back to my motel room, all I was looking for was a distraction from my nerves; something to get my mind off meeting Hero for the first time. Piston is anything but a distraction now. He’s my obsession. Is that healthy? Maybe not. Do I care? Fuck no. All I care about is getting closer to him. All I want is his attention, his hands and lips all over me, my name on his tongue, and for his thoughts to be as tangled up and one-track as mine are.

The cold air finally manages to seep into my bones, and I shiver in spite of the heat of Piston’s mouth on mine and his arms around me. He groans and wrenches his lips away from mine.

“Come on. If I let you catch pneumonia from the cold, that’ll just be one more thing I have to feel guilty about.” He nudges me towards the house, hitting a button to close the garage door along the way and then stepping inside right behind me.

“Are you always such a martyr?” I ask, toeing my shoes off and turning to face him while he bends over to untie his own boots.

I expect him to banter back, but instead, there’s a serious, thoughtful look on his face when he straightens back up.

“Old habits,” he mutters.

I want to ask about it. I want to know more about his past, his life, everything that made him who he is, but there will be time for that later. Tonight might be the only chance I get to show him how good we can be together. We stand in the small hallway,facing each other in the dark, neither of us saying a word. My stomach quivers and my nerves ignite like little firecrackers under my skin, making me feel jumpy and wired, like I need to either crawl out of my skin or find something to hold me together before I come apart.

Piston finally takes a step forward, closing the space between us. But instead of going in for another toe-curling kiss, he cups my jaw with one hand and loops his other arm around my waist, pulling me up against him. I can feel the hard, heavy shape of his arousal and I know he can feel mine.

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