Page 83 of Hollow Heart

I don’t even think a drink can fix this.

Or several.

“I don’t know how to do this, Felix! I don’t?—”

“Do what?” I snap. I don’t move to leave, because I am a serious glutton for punishment.

A masochist in love.

Carnage is the only thing I know.

“I don’t know how to dothis,” he growls, pointing between us, his voice shaking. “I’ve never been with anyone... like you.”

I scoff at his words. They slice me like daggers, ripping through flesh. His hold on my wrist lessens, but he doesn’t drop my hand.

His gaze captures mine, and I almost feel like an asshole.

Almost.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I bite.

Duncan’s thumbs rubs my raised vein, softly.

His gaze implores me as my heart beats so loudly in my chest I think he can hear it.

This... this is where I die.

Because this is where Duncan McKay breaks my heart, and I’ll never be able to recover.

“You know who you are, Felix. Good or bad, you know who you are, and you accept that. I don’t...” His voice cracks. “I don’t know who I am. I thought I did, for a while... I was Duncan McKay, drummer ofHollow Pointe. I was Duncan McKay, husband and father. But now...”

“But now, what?” I ask, my own voice slipping with the truth as I await his words.

“I feel like I’m discovering myself all over again. With you.” Duncan reaches out, settling his hand on my neck once more, but he doesn’t grip me. He slides his fingers back, teasing the trimmed hair at the nape of my neck gently.

It’s a strange sort of feeling, given that there is nothingsoftabout Duncan’s looks.

The man is built like a brick wall, large and ominous with his dark hair, speckled with strands of gray, and deep brown eyes that glitter with gold and amber in the light.

My gaze settles on his shiny, silver lip ring.

And for once in my life, I don’t want to fight.

So, I don’t.

I reach out, settling my hand on his neck, and I pull Duncan McKay to my lips like he is oxygen, and I am deprived.

I move my lips slowly against his, savoring every sensation; the pillowy soft texture of his mouth, the metallic taste of his lip ring, the warm, smooth texture of his tongue.

I slide my free hand around his tree trunk waist, but I don’t dig my nails in. Instead, I smooth my fingers over the silk of his shirt, rhythmically drawing lines across his muscles, where I can feel the faintest dip of skin, of his hipbones.

I lead him softly, slowly, and he follows me without question, his entire bodyrelaxingagainst me as he settles his free hand on my hip, slowly sliding it back to rest just above my ass.

Heat envelopes us both as we give in to the fire that exists between us, the one that I am certain is impossible to distinguish.

“I don’t know how to do this, either,” I whisper against his lips. I close my eyes and he rests his forehead against mine. “I don’t know how to be the kind of person you deserve.” My voice comes out shaky, nervous. “But I want to be.”

Duncan looks at me with glassy amber eyes. “You are,” he whispers as he kisses me again, forcing his tongue in my mouth, biting at my steel, causing my cock to twitch.

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