Page 75 of Cold as Ice

He burned with something else.

Elliott groaned, fingertips digging into his shoulder, hips pressing into Mal’s own.

Mal could feel his erection, through two sets of towels, and he didn’t know whether to lean in, or to push the guy away.

To laugh or to cry with how good this was.

Elliott’s mouth lush and perfect against his, kissing him like he’dknownall Mal wanted was this, and he was right there, too.

Mal broke off as the anger melted right into lust.

“I’m not mad,” Mal said firmly.

Elliott was smiling again. It was like seeing the sun rise again, after a particularly dark night. “You’re not,” he agreed.

“You . . .” Mal huffed out a frustrated laugh. “Iwasn’t. And then you kept insisting I was, that I had to be annoyed at what happened, and sure I was. But notatyou. You didn’t cause this, Elliott. Shit happens, sometimes. Maybe we did get a little aggressive. But you don’t lead this entire team around by their dicks.”

Those gorgeous green eyes were glowing now. “Just you, huh?”

Mal wanted to protest and say no. But could he really when his dick was still hard just from kissing him?

He changed the subject, instead. “Don’t do that shit, okay?”

“You really weren’t mad?”

“I’m notthatmuch of an asshole.” At least he tried not to be. Maybe they pushed each other, sometimes in good ways, sometimes in bad ways, but he wasn’t stone-cold.

Not cold at all, when it came to Elliott.

“No,” Elliott agreed. He sighed. “I don’t know why I got so worked up. Sure you were mad and that you wouldn’t tell me.”

It felt safe—relatively so, anyway—to pat Elliott on the shoulder reassuringly. “Trust me, if I’m pissed at you, you’re gonna know it.”

“Okay.” Elliott smiled. Leaned in. Mal’s heartbeat felt like it doubled. Then tripled. God, he wanted to kiss him again. Press him back against this door, strip his towel off, and make him feel as good as he’d made Malcolm feel only last night.

But this wasschool property.Maybe Mal wanted this, and he wanted it badly, but he wasn’t about to break a lifetime of ingrained respect for the rules.

“We should . . .uh . . .” Mal trailed off. “Uh, go?”

“No,” Elliott said, grinned. Then kissed him again. Soft and lush, his tongue nimbly brushing against Mal’s.

He felt Elliott’s fingers trail up his bare thigh, underneath the towel, and he managed to pull away just in time.

“Oh, come on,” Elliott teased. “I know you want it.”

It would be stupid to claim he didn’t. Not when his cock was only a few inches away, pulsing and erect, from Elliott’s magic fingers.

“Yeah, we’re not going to do this here.Ever.” Mal took a very necessary step back. And then another.

It was still somehow not quite far enough.

“I actually don’t think it’s against any actual policies, Mr. Rule Stickler. Ramsey told me he looked it up once.”

“Of course he did.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being informed.” Elliott shot him a grin that nearly weakened his resolve. It would be so good. It would be so quick, too. And then maybe they could make it through the team outing to the arcade without feeling like his body was too big suddenly for his skin.

“We’re still not doing this here. Not ever,” Mal said with as much certainty as he could muster.

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