Page 34 of Where There's Smoke

Anthony lifted his gaze, and we locked eyes again. The silence was loaded like I’d never experienced before, and even though his intense eyes intimidated me, I couldn’t look away. The longer we held each other’s gazes, the faster my heart beat. Nerves tangled and twisted in my gut as I realized how dangerous this information could be in the wrong hands, how quickly my campaign could crumble, especially if my campaign manager walked away because he couldn’t or wouldn’t handle this. Shit, why did I tell—

My heart stopped.

Oh, God. That wasn’t homophobia in his eyes.

My mouth went dry. No fucking way.

I forced some air into my lungs, but before I could speak, Anthony took a step toward me.

Instinctively I stepped back. Another step apiece and my back was against the wall. I flattened my palms against the plaster, curling my fingers even though I knew full well there was nothing to grab on to.

“I should go,” he whispered, coming closer and shrinking the space between us. “This is the last thing…” He closed his eyes and exhaled. More to himself than me, he said, “Fuck…”

I gulped, pressing my shoulders into the wall just to keep myself from sinking to my knees. “Then what are we…?” God, I couldn’t even breathe. How was I supposed to ask what we were doing? Or if we should?

“I mean it, Jesse.” Anthony opened his eyes. “This could complicate things.”

I struggled to find the words, not to mention the breath to bring them to life, but finally managed, “I think it already has.”

“Yeah. It has.” He leaned in but hesitated. The air between us crackled with energy, with heat, and it was tinged with smoke, reminding me of Anthony’s lips around a cigarette. Reminding me how close I was to those lips. Electricity shot down my spine, and I was sure my heart really would stop if he didn’t kiss me. If he did kiss me. If he didn’t. If he fuckingbreathed.

“This is so…” Anthony touched his forehead to mine. “Fuck, this is such a bad idea.”

My God, he was shaking. Anthony Hunter, my rock-steady, impossible-to-faze campaign manager trembled as badly as I did, like if it weren’t for the wall holding me up, we’d both crumple to the floor.

“I know it’s a bad idea,” I whispered. “But I want—”

He kissed me.

And time stopped.

We were completely still, just touching, not even breathing. No one moved until a soft release of warm breath whispered across my cheek. My hand, moving of its own accord, found its way to Anthony’s shoulder, and he tilted his head just a little, encouraging my lips apart with his own.

One shaking hand appeared on the side of my neck. As his thumb traced the edge of my jaw, I shivered, and before I’d even recovered, Anthony deepened the kiss. He sucked in a breath through his nose and pressed his hips to mine. His cock was so, so close to mine now. I was painfully hard; I swore he was even harder, and my head spun so fast I was surprised I didn’t pass out.

I wrapped my arms around him because I needed to just stay upright, and because I damn well wanted to. He slid his other hand around my waist, and my back automatically arched off the wall to give him room. He broke the kiss and started to pull away but then swore under his breath and came back for more. We sank against each other, melting into a slow, deep kiss that just wouldn’t quit.

His chin was coarse against mine, and his mouth tasted like that nervous cigarette he’d smoked outside. With any other man, that would have put me off, but he and smoke were indivisibly intertwined, and the taste made his kiss so deliciously and unmistakablyAnthony.

When he finally drew back, we stared at each other, struggling to catch our breath. My lips tingled, as did my skin from the scuff of his stubble, and smoke lingered on my tongue, but I still wondered if I’d imagined it all. If we were still at that impasse, that crossroads where we’d been lingering even while my mind conjured up this powerful fantasy. If we weren’t so tangled up in each other, if we weren’t just a few threads of clothing away from his erection being right against mine, I’d have been certain I’d just had a waking dream.

Anthony leaned in again, letting his lips brush mine, and for the longest time, we were still, hanging on that precipice between moving in and not. His fingers combed through my hair, and I shivered as his gentle, unsteady touch raised goose bumps along my spine.

He pressed against me, and just before another kiss consumed us, he whispered, “God, Jesse…”

My heart skipped, and it wasn’t just from his breathless desperation. It wasn’t the fact that since the day I met him, I’d wanted him so bad I couldn’t see straight. Or the fact that I hadn’t been kissed like this in my entire goddamned life.

Two words. Just two words.

“God, Jesse…”

I shivered again, moaning into his kiss and holding him tighter. Fuck, I wanted him. Right here, right now, right or wrong, I wanted him.

Anthony broke the kiss and met my eyes, turning my knees to water. The unspoken thought was unmistakable in his intense gaze:if I don’t go now, I’ll be here all night.

Which was, of course, exactly what I wanted.

Panting against my lips, he said, “We have to…we have to get moving tomorrow. Early.”

---