Page 36 of Breathe
Azrael scooted from beneath the covers and climbed onto him until he was situated facing him in his lap.
Steeling himself not to move, Real held his breath. Azrael wrapped his arms up and around his neck and buried his face into his skin. Azrael sighed into his neck and Real involuntarily squeezed the boy tighter.
Tipping his head back, Real gazed up at the ceiling and clenched his teeth so hard his jaw started to ache.
Real was struggling, Azrael could feel it, and he lifted his head to gaze upward.
Real kept his eyes on the ceiling, but it revealed the corded muscles on the man’s throat. A slight tick was going off in Real’s jaw.
Did he not want this?
Probably not.
Why couldn’t Real give him what he gave to Patrick?
“Get out,” Azrael hissed and launched from Real’s lap.
Or tried to.
He went nowhere because Real had snagged him close.
“Go back to your boyfriend!” Azrael raged through a tight raw throat. He couldn’t stop the tears of anger and sorrow to save his life.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Azrael struggled, lifted his hand, and slapped Real hard. The blow landed on the man’s cheek.
His palm stung. Good! He glared into Real’s eyes.
“Then go back to your lover or whatever the fuck he is.” Azrael struck again, this slap harder than the last.
“He’s not my lover,” Real said and caught his hands together so he couldn’t hit him again.
He had been ready to clock the fucker a third time into next week, but was thwarted by Real’s hold!
The words, though, gave him pause.
“You’re lying.” He glared, twisting his wrists, but Real’s one-handed grip wasn’t budging.
The man’s free hand reached up and around, and fingers sank into the hair at the back of Azrael’s head.
Caught, he couldn’t move.
Wait…the words registered.
“You never fucked him?”
“Once. Over a year ago,” Real said flatly.
Once… one time and before their holiday… That meant that he had just turned eighteen when Real had last screwed Patrick.
Well, no wonder. Real must have been keeping his distance because he had been barely legal at the time.
He was nineteen now and very legal, hell he’d be twenty this year.
He wanted to know why Real had been at the guy’s apartment then, but would save those questions for another time.
Azrael stopped struggling and sank against the wall of muscle that was beneath Real’s shirt. He sucked in a deep breath of the man’s salty skin.
