Page 26 of Heat Transfer

“What is it about this place and long staircases?” Felix said.

“Not used to physical exertion, IT boy?” I teased.

“Oh, I get plenty after hours.” He shot me a heated glance. I stumbled, but Felix’s grip kept me from falling. This felt like flirting, more than his normal teasing, and no matter how much I tried to talk myself out of it, my heart thudded faster. Walking behind him, I could see the flex of his ass with each stride, and holy fuck, it was tight and so damn fine I couldn’t stop looking.

Except tonight, I had a free pass because boyfriends definitely looked at each other’s asses.

Maybe I should feel guilty over ogling Felix all night, at taking advantage of the fake boyfriend ruse, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. He didn’t seem put off in the slightest. If anything, he was the one stoking those flames into an inferno.

We reached the top of the staircase and turned left to the exhibition.

“They lined the rapiers up first,” Felix said, not letting my hand go, even as we both slowed down.

I sure as fuck wouldn’t complain. My hand looked like a paw wrapped around his slender fingers, which were far softer than mine. I busted my knuckles on a weekly basis and had built thick-as-fuck calluses before my first week as a contractor ended.

The first showcase displayed rapiers from the 1600s, European in make. Some were always on display at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, but they had brought new ones into the mix. We walked up to examine it, and even though I glanced over the information in the showcase, the beautiful rapiers that had been preserved, my gaze kept straying.

Felix’s eyes lit up as he skimmed over the swords, and the glow of them had me ensnared. I couldn’t help but devour every detail: the way the shadows sharpened his angular jaw, the precise frame of his glasses, how his lower lip glossed when he wet it.

“How the fuck aren’t more people in this section?” he asked. We meandered to the next showcase, this one on Japanese swords from the same era. The katana, wakizashi, and tanto were all polished, and the metal was looking sharp, even with their age.

“You’d think rich people were just using this gala as an excuse to throw money around,” I said dryly.

“If that means we get the run of the exhibition, that’s fine by me,” Felix said. “Holy shit, look at the haft on that blade. The cobalt is still so bright.”

My heart thudded even harder. Fuck, being around Felix was so damn easy. Not only did we have plenty in common, but something about him coaxed me to the surface faster than anyone else. Normally, I was the taciturn one in conversations, even in the family. I absorbed more than chatted, which over the years resulted in feeling forgettable.

But Felix talked to me like I was the only person in existence. Like everything else melted away into the quiet dark.

“Gorgeous,” I murmured in response, but my gaze remained on him.

Even though he stared at the case, he squeezed my hand in an absent gesture before guiding us toward the next display. The ease with which we touched each other wasn’t something to be taken for granted. I’d had less chemistry with boyfriends I’d dated for over a year, and I was well aware of how rare this was. The lights were dimmed, a golden backlight to the cases that kept the attention to the artifacts on exhibit.

“Oh, the Viking swords are here.” Felix brought us close to the case, a slight bounce in his step.

When I heard the exhibition was coming to town, I’d been curious about these swords. They were made of crucible steel, with lettering imprinted on them. I let go of Felix’s hand and walked around the side of the case to get a better view.

Felix followed me, peering by my side. “Yeah, this was worth getting all dressed up for.” He nudged me, the same excitement flaring in his eyes, and I couldn’t help the giddy bounce of my heart.

“Definitely. It’s wild to think this craft could last over a thousand years,” I murmured. “Much longer than this fake relationship of ours. And you’ve escaped unscathed. No one has thrown fingers and or demanded we kiss.” I aimed for a joke, but it landed a bit flatter than intended. Maybe because at night, in bed, all I thought about was kissing Felix.

Felix stood straight and arched a brow. “You think I’m afraid of a little kiss?”

“Petrified.” A bit of challenge leaked into my tone. I licked my lips, which were impossibly dry. Felix’s stare was incendiary, lighting me up from the inside out.

“Well, now you’ve gone and done it.” The words were soft, and I almost missed them with the way tension crackled between us like arid air waiting for the lightning to strike. Felix and I were standing a breath apart, and then we weren’t.

His lips brushed against mine. The sparks were instantaneous, like a sliced sprinkler wire, and I moved in. Before my mind could take control, Felix did. He wrapped his hand around my nape and beckoned me in. I reeled from his palm pressing against my skin, his lips caressing mine.

Kissing Felix was all the adrenaline of a sword fight—the anticipation, the clash, the burn of the physical melding together. Except he took me higher than I’d ever soared. I’d imagined these lips for months, traced them over and over in my brain. He tasted refined, like the scotch we’d been drinking, and the heat bursting between us threatened to scorch my very soul. My hands landed on his hips, and I couldn’t tell which one of us drew toward the other. He deepened the kiss, our bodies lined up flush together.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth, all but devouring me. His fingers slid upward to tangle into my hair, the slight sting eliciting a moan from me. I’d be embarrassed, but Felix felt too damn good pressed against me. I tightened my grip on his hips as if I could hold on to this moment longer. The firm ridge of his cock brushed against my thigh, and my eyes rolled back in my head. Holy fuck. Felix was getting hard. My dick was granite, and it took everything in me not to rut forward against his thigh as we kissed and kissed and kissed.

He nipped at my lower lip, the sting sending flares through my bloodstream. I would sell my soul for a few moments more with him. We dove in for more until we melted into tongues and teeth andlivingin a way I’d been chasing for far too long.

I might’ve imagined this a time or a thousand, but I would never have expected the dominant streak running through him.He brought my head down and commanded the kiss, directing me where he wanted me. The urge to strip and beg him to sink inside me roared something fierce.

He ground his length against my thigh, surprising the fuck out of me. Holy fuck, he hadn’t been kidding about his size. It felt long and thick and goddamn. Sparks flicker-flashed through me, and precum beaded at the head of my cock. My whole body was aflame from the heat exploding through this kiss, through the thorough examination he gave my mouth, my lips, my tongue. He nipped and sucked and devoured with a hunger that had me light-headed.

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