His wide eyes meet mine, and his pink tongue darts out to lick his full bottom lip. “I, um... You were flirting with me?” His voice goes up a little now. “Why?”
I chuckle and then push his hot cocoa a little closer to him, so I’m not tempted to answer. “Probably best if we leave that one alone.”
He looks at the cocoa and wraps his hand around the mug. “Oh.” There’s a slight smile on his mouth now before he takes a coy little drink, his eyes twinkling.
Yeah, I’m totally fucked, now that he knows, because it’s just us here for God knows how long.
ChapterFive
Simon
Hunter is bisexual?How the hell did I never know that? I swear, he’s kind of a manwhore—not that I’m judging. I’m no virgin, but I’ve never once seen him flirting with a guy.
I mean, I’ve unfortunately seen him at a couple of parties, trying to suck some chick’s face off a time or two, but never a guy. I can’t help but feel maybe he’s fucking with me, but I don’t think so.
I think—shit. He’s actually bisexual. And I don’t know why this information is messing with my brain so damn much. “Let’s bring these to the living room. Maybe we can watch a movie before the power goes out.”
“You seem pretty sure the power will go out,” I say, but I don’t argue for once and slide off the stool, grabbing my hot cocoa and walking to the living room with him.
“Yeah well, it’s icing like crazy right now. And it’s supposed to snow more, according to my phone’s weather app.” I frown, and this time it’s not because I don’t want to be stuck here with him, just the thought of the electricity going out is a little scary. “Hey, don’t worry.” We sit on the couch—so close, his thick thigh brushes againstmine. “We have several fireplaces and plenty of firewood. I know where some candles and flashlights are. We’ll be fine.”
I nod dumbly, taking a sip of the sweet hot chocolate.
“Wait. You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?” He sounds worried and isn’t teasing me. That’s new. I turn to look at him, really look at him. His hair is neatly styled, just tousled enough to make him look a little like a fuckboy but not totally. His lips are full and parted right now as he watches me.
He was flirting with me? All this time, I thought he was either implying I couldn’t get a boyfriend or had an issue with me being gay... but he was flirting...
Does that mean . . . ?
Nope. I can’t let my thoughts go there. It’s just being stuck here because of the stupid snow. That’s all. It has nothing to do with me actually wanting him. Nope. Not at all.
“You were flirting with me?” Apparently, my mouth did not get the memo that we’re not going there. That I need to just full-on ignore what he told me in the kitchen. He’s still just a total fuckboy and my brother’s best friend. That’s it. Nothing else.
He turns to me, his brow furrowed as he studies me, then nods slowly. “Of course I was. You’re fucking adorable. Just my type. How could I not flirt with you?”
Holy. Shit.
I put my cup down, grab his and put it down also, and then, before I can overthink things too much, I’m climbing onto his lap and pressing my lips to his. This makes no sense, and yes, I know it’s a terrible idea.
But it’s almost Christmas. I’m stuck in this goddamn cabin. I’ve always thought he was an ass but a hot one. And now he tells me he’s bisexual and... that I’m adorable.
What the hell is a guy supposed to do? Not jump him?
Probably.
Shit. But oh my God, he’s kissing me back. His big, strong hands smooth over my back as his mouth attacks mine with just as muchvigor as I’m kissing him. I moan when he licks into my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time. I can barely breathe, let alone think because wow, he can kiss.
“Wait.” Oh, that’s not my voice. That’s his.
I pull back just a little bit, panting like I’m starving for him, and I think... holy shit, I think I am. “What’s the matter?”
“Seriously?” He cocks his head to the side, questioning me. “I thought you hated me.”
He really wants to talk right now? My dick is so hard between us, and I can feel his, just as hard and bigger. I think he must be well-proportioned—but still, he’s hard too. “I don’t hate you.” Especially not hating his big dick pressed up against mine. The only thing I hate right now is that his mouth isn’t on mine.
“Your brother . . .”
I groan. “Way to be a boner killer, man.”