Page 50 of Cold Comeback
"Thatcher..." His voice was rough.
"Yeah?"
He stepped forward and closed the distance between us. His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone.
"I know this is a bad idea…"
"Terrible idea." I leaned into his touch.
"Someone could come looking for us."
"Probably will."
"We should finish cleaning up."
"We should."
Neither of us moved.
The kiss started softly, giving me a chance to pull away. When I didn't—pressing closer instead—something snapped. His mouth opened against mine, desperate and hungry, and I tasted coffee, lust, and the careful distance dissolving.
My back hit the shelving unit behind me with a soft thud. A stick bin dug into my hip, and a plastic tub rattled once like a warning. Equipment shifted above our heads, but I couldn't bring myself to care about anything except the weight of Gideon's body against mine and the fire in his kisses.
"Fuck," he breathed against my mouth, grinding his hips forward. The friction sent sparks up my spine.
I reached for the hem of his shirt, sliding my hands underneath to touch the warm skin I'd been thinking about for days. He was solid and real under my touch, muscles flexing as he pressed closer.
"You have no idea," I gasped when his lips moved to my neck, "how many times I've thought about this."
He sucked gently, making me arch against him. "Tell me."
"Every practice. Every time you bark orders during drills. Every time you look at me like—" A moan cut off the words as he sucked hard enough to leave a mark.
"Like what?"
"Like you want to devour me."
His laugh was dark and breathless. "That's because I do."
We moved with desperate urgency, hands everywhere, trying to touch as much skin as possible while still technically clothed. When he pressed his thigh between my legs, I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound that would carry through the thin walls.
"Quiet," he warned, but his voice was shaky.
"Then don't do that thing with your—oh, fuck."
He was doing the thing anyway, grinding his leg against me in a rhythm that had me seeing stars. My hands scrambled to grip his shoulders as heat coiled tight in my stomach.
It was unbelievable. We were in a storage closet at a children's charity event, fully clothed and rutting against each other like teenagers. It was messy and desperate and everything I needed.
I pushed my hand lower, fighting to get inside his jeans. He sucked in, doing his best to give me room.
Gideon's cock was hard, hot, and already leaking a little. I wanted to taste it, but there wasn't room, and he wasn't about to let me drop to my knees in the equipment closet. Instead, he reached out for my jeans as he moaned.
He reached in, wrapped his hand around me, and I nearly lost it then and there. My head thudded back against the shelf, and something plastic clattered to the floor. He laughed, low and triumphant, muffling it against my neck.
We jerked each other off, quick and brutal, like we were both afraid of running out of time. I tried not to think about the fact that anyone could walk in. Tried not to think that if anyone found us, the Richmond Reapers would have a bigger PR problem than face paint monsters.
He kissed me again, sloppier this time, all teeth and spit and heat. I stroked him, thumb sliding over the slick head of his cock, and he bucked into my hand, panting.
