Page 47 of Rules to Love By

Eli took his time, jingling the keys. The familiar heady rush of power washed through him when he realized he had the upper hand for the moment. “Good luck with that. You and your chocolate craving are at my mercy as long as I have the keys.” He was silently congratulating himself on his smooth banter when his foot caught on the last riser and he pitched forwards. “Shit!”

“I got you.” Marcus kept him from faceplanting at his feet with both arms around Eli’s waist.

Eli tried—and failed—to remember the last time he’d been close enough to another guy to smell the musk of him under the perfume of soap. Normally his encounters were more sterile—less contact and more control. When things did get this close, that too was prescribed, and by then, the scents of sweat and sex overpowered everything else.

The crinkle of chest hair through the thin fabric of Marcus’s shirt was a rare novelty.

Which made him realize he was, literally, feeling Marcus’s chest, rubbing his fingertips over his pec hard enough to feel the slide of hair between cloth and skin.

Subtle.

He paused, hand flat over the broad expanse, palm pressed to the hard nub of one nipple. It was brutally hard not to take the moment to reassert control. Instead, he straightened enough to match gazes, their faces inches apart.

Marcus’s breath had gone shallow and hard. He had two fists full of Eli’s polo. He parted his lips, tightening his fists until his knuckles dug into Eli’s sides.

Experimentally, Eli shifted his palm, a firm, fast rub over the tight nipple, holding his own breath in wonder when Marcus gasped and blinked. “Sensitive?” He shifted his weight forward, then shuffled his feet until Marcus backed up.

It took only a few small steps before Marcus’s back hit the door.

The whole time, Marcus watched Eli, a wary animal, poised, waiting to see what came next.

Eli licked his lips, unsure of that himself. There were only two options. Back off, and maybe never get this incredible man in such a state again, or press on. It was only a couple of inches. One inch. He was pretty sure this was where the first-date kiss happened. Only at moments like this—the unplanned, unnegotiated ones, anyway—he’d always been the one against the door.

He hesitated.

“What?” Marcus blinked again, and his voice was airy, not uncertain but not in charge either.

The stiff, hard tip under his palm fascinated Eli, but not as much as Marcus’s wide-eyed, breath-hitched pause.

Marcus groaned and thumped his head against the door.

His exposed throat was too much to resist. Eli nuzzled in, sniffing skin, nibbling, kissing along his collarbone while Marcus’s knuckles dug deeper, his breath hooked on something he didn’t share with Eli, and then a soft whimper escaped into the quiet of the deserted hallway.

He clamped one hand to Marcus’s hip, pushing him against the door and holding him there while he tweaked his nipple again. Marcus groaned and Eli nuzzled, nosing Marcus’s chin up higher to suck at his throat.

Shifting and squirming, Marcus seemed to be having a hard time being still or catching his breath. “Eli.”

Eli huffed but stilled, mouth against his Adam’s apple.

The heavy swallow under his lips made Eli’s blood sing. “Eli. We’re in the hallway.”

Eli licked the hot skin and moved back just enough to speak, trying to get his brain out of the fog. “Right. That’s bad.”

“For Lucky and Kreed’s business, yes.”

Eli lifted his head to see Marcus’s face. “But not for you?”

CHAPTERTEN

Heat danced up Marcus’s neck and into his face. He couldn’t answer that. There was only so much he was willing to give up on a first date, and he was way too hot already. “We should probably go inside.”

“Probably.” Eli ran the pad of his thumb down Marcus’s throat. “But I’ll remember you didn’t answer that directly.”

Marcus swallowed but still didn’t deny it.

Eli claimed his mouth, holding him still by the chin while he took what he wanted—a deep, hungry kiss that had Marcus alternately kissing back and panting until he was shaking and having a hard time holding himself up, despite the support of the door at his back.

When he finally pulled away, Marcus had to blink a few times to get him in focus. “You promised me chocolate,” he whispered, in a groping bid to take back control of the situation.

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