Page 66 of Cold as Ice

He was also very sure that Elliott would slide off his lap, and in that easy, friendly nature of his, ensure that Mal went on his way, no awkwardness whatsoever.

But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned in and kissed him again.

Like he couldn’t get enough, either.

Mal wasn’t going to push him away. He’d done that enough and it hadn’t worked any of the times, and besides, helikedit.

Wrapping a clean hand around Elliott’s back, he tugged him in closer, and they kissed and kissed, like they hadn’t just gotten off twice each. Elliott’s fingers twisted in his hair, and it was easy and hushed and intimate. The kind of intimate Mal didn’t recognize, but enjoyed anyway.

Elliott was the one who finally broke the kiss, pulling back an inch.

But he still didn’t act like he wanted to move. A hand slid down to Mal’s shoulder. Squeezed. “So much makes sense, now,” he murmured.

“Don’t say I was uptight because I wasn’t getting any,” Mal said.

Elliott chuckled. “I wouldn’t, ever.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

Elliott’s smile widened. “Idohave a question.”

Mal had a feeling he knew what was coming.

“Why didn’t you just let us do this last year?”

Mal wet his lips. There it was. Maybe after this conversation, Elliott kicking him out of the room would be pretty damn awkward after all. “I didn’t know you were serious. We didn’t even know each other. I thought . . .I thought you might be just like Aubrey.”

“His name was Aubrey?” Elliott rolled his eyes. “He even sounds like a pretentious dickwad.”

Malcolm considered this. Did he even know what a pretentious dickwad was? He supposed that Aubrey would fit the description, based on what he remembered of the guy.

Then he realized that he didn’t even really remember the guy. Not details, anyway. Could barely dredge up a vision of him. Instead, his memory felt general, like a black hole of humiliation and rage and rejection. The aftermath—the things his dad had said that he’d taken to heart—those felt specific. Emblazoned on his memory.

Mal could only imagine what Anthony McCoy would say about this thing with Elliott. But he pushed that thought away.

“Yeah, he must have been,” Malcolm agreed.

“So you thought I was going to just lead you on? Fuck you and leave you?”

“I didn’t even think we’d make it to the fucking.”

Elliott’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“I was sure once you found out . . .you wouldn’t want to anymore.”

“Huh. Did I redeem myself in your head, finally?” Elliott was smirking now. It was a little bitI told you so, but Mal could tolerate that, especially after the two orgasms Elliott had given him.

Mal nodded.

“Good.” Elliott paused, and then to Mal’s surprise, that was when he slid off his lap, grabbing the washcloth and cleaning off again, before tossing it to Mal. “Then hopefully we won’t have to argue about this.”

“Argue about what?” Mal found the one clean corner left and used it to wipe the rest of Elliott’s come off him.

“About us doing this again.”

Mal swallowed hard. Figured this would be a very good time to start finding his clothes.

Pulled his boxer briefs up. Then his sweatpants.

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