Page 28 of Haunted Mediation
“We are going to talk about this later, right?” James asked, his voice low and suddenly very serious.
Leon had to tamp down his knee-jerk response to make a joke or snarky comment. He needed to take his own advice. They didn’t have to do that anymore. They could be playful andflirty and joke around, but—just like he’d said earlier—not about something this serious.
“‘This’ meaning us?” Leon asked.
“Yeah. Like…if there is an us?”
Leon tightened his arms around James. His fingers started to tingle, and he realized that James was probably right. There wasn’t an ounce of anger in him right now, but there was a startling amount of fear.
“If I have any say in the matter, there will be.”
“A talk?” James asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“An ‘us’ to talk about.”
James’ breath caught. He tried to turn around in Leon’s grip, but he stilled him with a quick squeeze around the middle.
“We can talk as much as you want when we get back to my place, but we probably should finish the last two rooms.”
Leon couldn’t see more than the profile of James’ face, so his responding silence worried him for a second. Then James moved faster than Leon could stop him, managing to step forward and out of his grip. Leon reached for him, but it was in vain because James spun around and grabbed Leon’s face in both of his soft hands.
He brought his lips right up to Leon’s before he paused and whispered, “Please.”
Leon kissed him, hard and fast, sliding his hands around James’ back to clutch him possessively to his chest.
Oh, there was going to be an “us” for fucking sure. Leon wasn’t going to stop at three hasty kisses. He wanted a million, and he wanted snuggles on the couch and hand holding over quiet dinners that led into loud nights in his room. He wanted amusement park rides and trips to the beach and traveling abroad and?—
And he wanted to get out of this fucking haunted house.
Leon ended the kiss, pulling back only to have to grit his teeth to keep from kissing him again. James was staring up at him with huge, gorgeous, pale blue eyes, swollen lips, and splotchy cheeks.
“You can’t look at me like that, darlin’, or we are never getting out of here.”
James’ eyelids fluttered. “God, why does that make my entire body tingle?”
“You are remembering to breathe, right?”
James’ pretty eyes narrowed into a glare. “I am, yes.”
Leon grinned impishly. “Yeah, I mean, what kind of fucking loser forgets to breathe?”
He had genuinely meant it as a joke, but James’ face fell. “Hey! Don’t talk about my…my Leon like that.”
His words held heat behind them, but nowhere near as much as seemed to ignite his cheeks, his entire face turning the color of Dracula’s cape. If it was possible, Leon was pretty sure James’ face was so hot, it was actually spreading onto Leon’s cheeks. Hell, it was spreading down his chest, burrowing into his heart, and burning through his veins.
“Your…Leon?” he growled, the sound coming from deep in his gut.
James opened his mouth, to explain, or excuse, or maybe apologize, but Leon didn’t want to hear it. He slammed their mouths together, loving the way James desperately clung to the back of his jacket. Not in fear or panic like before, but in…something else. Lust? Like? Joy? Excitement? God knew Leon was feeling every single one of those things and then some.
When they finally pulled back from what had been their best kiss yet, they were both panting. James’ eyes ran all over Leon’s face, searching his gaze, skating along his flushed cheeks, and lingering on his lips before coming back up to his eyes.
“I think,” James said, “maybe you shouldn't look at me like that either.”
Leon pulled him in, but this time for a hug.
“We’re going to talk later, right? At your house?” James whispered.
“Mhm,” Leon said, burying his face in James’ neck. He smelled of sweat, forest, and promise. “We can sit on the couch, and maybe I won’t have to pretend to pet Yarmen to sit right next to you.”
