Page 42 of The Wild Charge

“This is the outfit you picked out,” he said.

“Yeah, but – you – not for–” Tenny pressed a hand to his face and turned away, muttering, cursing.

He wasflustered.

He likes you, Fox had said, with that beat of hesitation. Like he knew; like he understood this wasn’t just club brothers, wasn’t just friends, the way Aidan and Tango were friends.

Reese almost felt like smiling – like teasing, maybe; a new impulse. He took a step closer. “If you don’t like it, I can take it off.”

Tenny’s hand dropped, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed; he didn’t look at him. “Jesus, youfucker.”

“Ten.” Reese took another step, and gripped his arm, lightly. His skin was warm to the touch – too warm. Clammy.Nervous. Softly, gaze trained on the way Tenny’s lashes flickered and shuddered against his cheeks, he said, “I’m not very good with words. Or feelings.”

“Fuckfeelings.”

“So why don’t you just say it? For both of us?”

Tenny’s head whipped toward him. “Say what? What do you think it is I’m supposed to besaying?” The mockery was only the faintest film, and Reese knew he hated that; that he’d wanted to sound careless and strong – and instead only sounded cracked at the edges, on the verge of breaking.

Reese slid his hand up his arm, until he reached the tender inside of his elbow, and the wildly throbbing pulse there. He tugged, gently. “Tennyson.”

Tenny’s eyes gleamed wet. “Fuck you,” he hissed. “Fuck you.”

Then he twisted out of Reese’s grip – only to surge toward him. He gripped Reese’s hair in both fists, tight enough to sting, and dragged him into a kiss that was more like a fight than anything else.

Lips smashed into lips, and teeth clicked.

Tenny hissed, pulled back a fraction – then shifted his hold so he was cradling Reese’s skull, angled his head, and dove back in. Smoother this time; open-mouthed, and less aggressive…but hungry. So hungry.

Reese gripped his waist, in turn; slipped his hands beneath the hem of his shirt to get to warm skin, rewarded by an approving murmur against his lips. Tenny’s tongue slipped between his teeth, slick and hot over his own.

Inept though he might be when it came to behavioral conventions, Reese had never been one for denial. He could admit, freely, readily, that kissing Tenny was becoming a common thing – and a thing he looked forward to; a thing that heyearnedfor. It was nothing like kissing the club girls. That had felt nice, physically, and had shocked and excited him, a pure response to stimulation – but this…this flooded him with sparks and heat and a contentedness that made it all feelright. That madeTennyfeel right.

Tenny palmed his nape, and urged his head back at a gentle angle so he could take his mouth more thoroughly, and that felt like Tenny felt that rightness, too – even if he was still snarling and snapping.

Tenny caught Reese’s lip between his teeth and bit. His hands ran rough and clumsy down his back, and then shifted to his front, one scratching through the pale hair that trailed down from his exposed navel, the other slipping up beneath his tank top and palming over his pec. He squeezed, hard, and Reese felt his nipples pebble in response; felt a shudder shake out across his skin as he chased a kiss that Tenny broke in favor of trailing hot, wet lips down the side of his throat.

“Christ,” Tenny murmured, fingers hooking in his waistband. “This bloody outfit iskilling me.” Still restless, the hand on his chest trailed down and around, and closed over his ass, squeezing hard again. “Thesejeans,” he said between sloppy kisses against the juncture of neck and shoulder. “Who knew this ass was hiding under those hideous tac pants.”

“You’ve – seen – my ass,” Reese panted. He wanted to touch and fondle in return, to feel more skin, but he was dizzy under Tenny’s hands, overwhelmed with how quickly he’d gone from concerned to turned on out of his mind.

“Bloody” – scrape of teeth over tendon – “not the point.”

The low-riding, unforgiving waistband of Reese’s pants gave; Tenny had managed the button one-handed, and he wasted no time forcing the zipper and plunging that hand straight down the front of the jeans, only to groan when his fingers curled around the base of Reese’s bare cock. “Fuck, you’re not wearing anything under here.”

“They were too tight.”

“Fuck.”

Tenny kissed him again, messy and savage, then took him by the shoulders and spun him around.

Again, Reese marveled that his automatic instinct to resist, lash out, fight back didn’t so much as twitch, now, here with Tenny, as he urged him forward with a hand between his shoulder blades, until he was resting with his forearms braced on the edge of the bed. The sound he made, when Tenny shoved his jeans down far enough to expose his ass and thighs to the cool air of the hotel room, was neither voluntary, nor resistant.

Still, Tenny paused, his breath a ragged scraping, loud in the silence around them, his hands hot and flexing on Reese’s bare hips. “Want me to stop?” he asked, voice rough, strained.

Reese leaned back into his touch. Stop what? He didn’t even know what Tenny was after, only that he was willing. “No.”

A curse. Hands pulling away, sound of a zipper. Hands returning, one at his hip, one sliding beneath his tank top, pressing at his spine, urging him down further, further, until his cheek rested on the bedspread. Then the hot, hard press of Tenny’s cock, already wet, leaking, settling right in the cleft of his ass. Tenny let out a low, guttural noise at first contact, and then started moving, an uncoordinated rocking that slid them together, faster, wetter as the pre-come spread.

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