Page 83 of Skeletons in the Closet

I clenched my jaw, wishing I could speak.

“If you follow me into the bedroom, I’ll suck your dick. No strings attached. I won’t even get my shirt in a knot over the whole iceman thing you have going on.” Then he licked his lips salaciously.

I didn’t move.

Couldn’t.Iceman. The insult barely registered. I knew how I came across. I knew who I was.

Tallus dropped the towel right there on the floor in the hallway and sashayed away with his bare ass on full display to his bedroom. He didn’t close the door, leaving it open and inviting.

I stepped forward, stalled, backed up, and with a growl of frustration, aimed for his bedroom. It wasn’t supposed to happen once, never mind twice. Fucking around with Tallus wasa slippery slope, and I was sliding to my doom if I let it happen three times.

But there was no stopping it.

Skin on fire, stomach muscles coiled so tight they hurt, I rounded the corner and found Tallus sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his arms, legs spread enticingly, naked and waiting. His cock was hard. His lower lip was caught between his teeth. The only thing he had on was his dark-framed glasses, and fuck me…

I couldn’t breathe.

“That took less time than I expected.”

He pushed himself upright and got to his feet. The man wore nakedness with a confidence I envied, but why shouldn’t he? He was stunning. A work of art. Centerfold material. Tallus closed our distance, and it took a Herculean effort not to move away when he encroached on my bubble. I pressed my fists to my sides, clenched so tight I was losing circulation. My blood roared in my ears.

Tallus gripped the front of my T-shirt and hauled me the rest of the way into the room—I stumbled when my locked knees didn’t cooperate—and closed the door, pushing me back against it. I was twice his size, easily fifty or sixty pounds heavier. He should not have been able to manipulate me, but I was incapable of resisting.

I didn’t like it. I wanted Tallus to mean nothing. I wanted to find the ability to reject him. I didn’t want him to be in the forefront of my thoughts every night or starring naked in my dreams. I didn’t want to feel weak anymore.

Tallus remained in my personal space. His presence stole the oxygen from the room. I made like a statue, holding the only air I’d managed to steal in my lungs as he pressed a hand to my groin, massaging the swell of my erection through my jeans.

“You’re not going to touch me, are you?”

No, but I wanted to so badly it hurt.

The pressure below increased, and a noise escaped my throat at the building pleasure. A strangled grunt turned moan I couldn’t contain.

“That’s it. You don’t hate me touching you now, do you?”

I shook my head.

“Do you want my mouth on you?”

I couldn’t nod fast enough.

He chuckled. “Words, D.”

“Yes,” I rasped. Tallus had an aversion to my muteness, and I didn’t want to piss him off.

Gaze never leaving my face, Tallus undid my pants and sank a hand inside, stroking me through my underwear. The hot caress was mind-blowing, and my insides turned to liquid. Twice, his attention fell to the cut on my jaw.

Don’t ask,I thought.Please don’t ask. Please don’t ruin this.

He didn’t.

The hand on my cock journeyed up and down, stroking rhythmically.Purposefully.On occasion, he slipped it lower to cup my balls through my underwear, making me grunt, making my stomach muscles tighten. I slammed my head back against the door by accident, overwhelmed and shaking with need.

Tallus’s other hand snuck up my shirt, brushing along my abdomen, moving through my chest hair as it too explored in a way that plagued the reasoning center of my brain. I didn’t know what to do with these sensations. I didn’t know how to respond, so I closed my eyes.

Trapped against the door, uncomfortable with his touch, I somehow yearned for more. I didn’t know where to put myself. My hands remained stuck to my sides even when I told them to move. Even when I knew he wanted me to join in. To touch him back.

The hand on my chest traveled lower again. He pushed my pants and underwear over my ass, letting them fall to the floor, freeing my aching cock. Would he see the scars behind the tattoos on my thighs? Would he get that look in his eyes? Would he ask questions I couldn’t answer?

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