Page 167 of Saving Sparrow
“What are you doing?” I asked, stepping into the converted bedroom.
He looked over his shoulder at me, pulling a fresh pair of boxer briefs up over his ass. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting ready for bed.” He slammed his dresser drawer shut.
“I won’t be able to sleep if you’re mad at me.”
“Well, then tell me what the hellthatwas all about.” He gestured to our closed bedroom door. I explained what happened at the game, and he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his forehead.
“Don’t,” he said, retreating when I advanced on him.
“I told you what happened.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m instantly okay.”
I gripped the sides of his head, forcing a kiss on him. He bit my lip, and I jerked back, licking the blood away.
“I said don’t.” He backed away again.
My breathing grew shallow as panic set in. I needed to know he still loved me. I rushed him, hauling him forward by the neck for a copper-flavored kiss. “I need you, Guelly.” I’d always need him. I felt off balance because it took both of them to make me even, both of them to make me complete. And it wasn’t just the sex; it was the love, too. I needed all their love because they had all of mine. “I don’t like it when you get like this.”
“When I’m pissed at you?”
“Yes. You know it makes me crazy.”
“Well, too bad.” He broke free again, turning away from me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Everything seemed to be falling apart.
“Talk to me,” I said, holding myself back from launching at him. I didn’t know how he and Elliott managed the whole being reasonable shit.
He faced me again, seeming terrified now. “What’s happening to us, Q?”
“Thank fuck,” I muttered under my breath. If he was calling me Q, that meant I had a chance to fix whatever was wrong with him. “We’ll get past this. Everything will be better tomorrow. You’ll see.” I needed my hands on him, so I took the few steps needed to wrap them gently around his throat.
“What if we don’t get past it?”
“We will.”
“Your magic dick doesn’t fix everything, you know.”
“Says who? Our sassy brat is sleeping like a baby.”
He huffed a weak laugh, gripping my forearms. “He isn’t a brat, and our problems will still be here when he wakes up.”
“It’ll be fine,” I promised.
He stared at me, chewing on his bottom lip. “I haven’t seen you like that in a while.” His words were hushed, as if they were forbidden.
“No, you haven’t. You haven’t experienced me like that in a while either.” I matched his tone.
“Not since the day Elliott asked about sex,” he breathed. “You knew you had feelings for him by then, and you were scared those feelings would break us apart. You fucked me all night. You fucked me the way you just fucked him. Maybe with even more intensity. But barely.”
I stepped in closer, my fingers pulsing along his throat. “Did it scare you? Seeing me with him like that?”
“I was nervous. He isn’t used to that.”
“Not like you are.”
“No, not like I am.”
“How else did it make you feel?” I dropped a hand to my cum-stained dick, dragging the hard tip across his stomach, spreading my precum over his abs.
