Page 88 of Cold as Ice

“You told Jane, didn’t you?”

Mal winced. “I know we said we wouldn’t, but . . .she kind of guessed?”

“It’s alright.” Elliott didn’t seem particularly concerned. “I’m sure Ramsey’s about to figure it out, too. If Jane doesn’t tell him outright.”

“She wouldn’t,” Mal insisted.

“He’sRamsey.”

“Point taken,” Mal said. Tried not to worry if Ramsey would spill the beans. Sipped his punch and nearly spit it out. “What’sinthis?”

“A little of this, a little of that.”

“It tastes like apple-flavored lighter fluid.” Mal made a face. He took another drink.

“Careful, it’s strong,” Elliott said, slipping a hand down to his hip. Cupping it before letting it go. Parties at Gamma Sigma were notorious and nobody would probably notice who Elliott was with or what he was doing with them—but Mal was another story. Heneverhooked up at a Gamma Sigma party.

At least he hadn’t before this.

“You wanna go outside? Sneak off to a dark corner and make out?”

Mal supposed he shouldn’t have been so surprised. “You want to do that?”

Elliott’s expression was full of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Please tell me I don’t have to convince you that I’m into it again.”

Mal noted that he’d saidinto itand notinto you. Told himself that he wasn’t disappointed by Elliott’s word choice. He knew what Elliott was. How he behaved, long before they’d ever gotten involved.

You went into this with your eyes wide open. You can’t even be mad.

And he wasn’t. Not really. Didn’t understand what hewasfeeling. But it was some kind of way.

The kind of way that made him want to latch his mouth onto Elliott’s neck right here, damn who could see, and leave a mark that said bluntly,Elliott is Mal’s.

But he’s not. He’s his own person. He’s not available to own, even if I wanted that.

Which I don’t.

“No,” Mal said. “No, you don’t have to. I know you want me.”

Elliott laughed. “Oh, I do, baby. Believe me, I do.” He took his hand and Mal let himself be dragged out the back door and down the stairs. There were a few knots of costumed partiers around the backyard, but Elliott bypassed all those, pulling him along around the side of the house.

There was a straggly bush, and behind it was an old, worn wooden bench. Elliott sat on it and pulled Mal to him.

Mal went easily, groaning in the back of his throat as Elliott kissed him hard, tongue slipping into his mouth.

For a second, he wondered if Elliott brought all his hookups to this bench—and then he realized he didn’t give a shit. Elliott wasn’t with them now. He was withMal, fingers digging into Mal’s shoulders, tugging down his tight T-shirt, stroking his collarbones.

Elliott sighed into his mouth, and Mal gave up resisting the urge to do some exploring of his own. After all, those pants weresogoddamn loose and it would be so easy for Mal to just . . .

“Fuck,” Elliott moaned. “I hoped you’d come tonight.”

“Is that why you wore this? To torture me? So I’d think about sliding my hand in?” Mal did it as he said it, fingers grazing the tense muscles of Elliott’s lower abs and then dipping under the waistband, gaping just enough it was so easy to slip beneath it.

Elliott was hard, already. He could feel the heat of him, and it would be incredibly easy for Mal to wrap his hand around his cock and get him off.

They’d have a damn good time. But then Elliott would have no reason to stay out here, and Mal wanted more. Mal wanted it to never end.

So he kept his touch light and teasing, loving the way Elliott’s kiss grew more heated by the second.

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