Page 53 of Pretty When He Bleeds

“Not my circus,” Killian says, clearly enjoying this. His gaze flicks to me and his smirk widens. “So, Damon. Staying for dinner?”

I glance at Roman, who’s avoiding my gaze, and grin. “Guess that depends on whether Roman here wants to feed me.”

Killian laughs, pushing off the doorframe. “You two are fucking weird. I’m out,” and the kitchen falls quiet again when he leaves.

Roman sighs, leaning back against the counter and taking a long drink from his water bottle. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters.

“Worth it,” I say, stepping closer again and pressing a hand to his chest. “Now, about that dinner?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Fine. But don’t expect anything fancy. It’s probably frozen pizza or leftover takeout.”

“Perfect,” I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the fridge.

As we rummage through the chaotic mess that is their fridge, I can’t help but glance at him out of the corner of my eye. His hair is still messy from practice, his cheeks still flushed, and even though he looks exhausted, he’s never looked better to me.

Roman catches me staring and raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say, smirking as I grab a carton of leftover Chinese food. “Just thinking how lucky I am.”

He rolls his eyes, but the small smile on his lips gives him away. This could actually work between us, right?

Roman

Afterdinnerwiththeguys, I can’t shake the tension thrumming between Damon and me. Every time I glance at him, he’s already looking at me with that heated gaze that makes my stomach twist in ways I can’t explain. He hasn’t touched me since earlier in the kitchen, but the promise in his eyes is enough to keep my nerves buzzing.

The way his green eyes burn, the way his jaw clenches like he’s holding back… It’s a look I’ve seen before, but it’s never been aimed at me.

And fuck, if it doesn’t make my cock twitch.

When we finish eating, he stands and nods toward the hallway. “Let’s go.”

My heart kicks up as I follow him, ignoring the knowing smirk Killian shoots me from across the table.

The second the door to my room clicks shut behind us, I barely have time to turn around before I’m pinned against it. Damon’s hands are bracketing my head, his body pressing into mine. His breath is warm against my cheek, and when I glance up, his expression is raw and hungry.

“Damon—”

“Shut up,” he growls, his voice rough as he crashes his lips against mine.

I groan into his mouth, my hands coming up to grip his shoulders, but he’s relentless, his tongue sliding against mine like he’s trying to devour me. There’s nothing soft about it—just heat, desperation, and Damon’s fucking need pouring into me.

“You’ve been driving me insane,” he mutters against my lips, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. “Watching you on the ice, all focused and in control—it makes me want to ruin you.”

“Shit,” I gasp, my head falling back against the door as he trails his lips down my jaw to my neck, sucking hard enough to make me wince. “You could’ve said something at dinner instead of eye-fucking me all night.”

“You think I could’ve waited this long if I didn’t have to?” he snaps, his teeth grazing my throat. “I’ve been hard since your practice, Roman. Every time you hit the ice, all I could think about was sinking my cock in you.”

His hands move to the hem of my hoodie, yanking it up and over my head in one swift motion. He tosses it to the floor, his lips already back on my skin, biting and sucking. My hands find his hair, fingers threading through the dark curls as he bites down on my shoulder, making me hiss.

“Damon,” I breathe, my hands finding the edge of his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. It falls to the floor, forgotten, as I slide my hands under his shirt, feeling the hard lines of his body.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my jaw as his fingers work on the button of my jeans. “What do you need, Roman? Tell me.”

“I—” My words dissolve into a sharp inhale as he palms me through my jeans.

“You’re so fucking hot like this,” he mutters, his voice low and full of praise. “All worked up, just for me.”

“Shut up,” I snap, but it comes out weak, my hips jerking into his hand.

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