Page 10 of Kash
I kiss him again, slower this time, savoring the way he melts into me.
My hand roams, sliding under his tank top, feeling the taut muscles of his stomach, the ink that tells a story I want to read. He’s all sharp angles and defiance, but there’s a softness too, a vulnerability in the way he lets me take control.
I pull back, my forehead resting against his, both of us breathing hard…
“This was a mistake,” I say, stepping back, letting his wrists go. My body’s screaming to keep going, to strip him bare and claim every inch of him, but my head’s louder.
I’m a wanted man.
Every second I spend with him is a risk, for both of us.
Spike straightens, adjusting his tank top, but his eyes are still locked on mine, unapologetic.
“Didn’t feel like a mistake to me,” Spike says, breathing heavily, grabbing his board. “You gonna kick me out now, or what?”
“Get out,” I say, but there’s no heat in it. I’m fighting myself as much as him. “And don’t come back unless I tell you.”
Spike smirks, like he knows I don’t mean it.
“See you around, biker guy.”
Spike saunters out, his board tucked under his arm, and I watch him skate off into the night, the wheels humming against the gravel.
I slam the door, my heart pounding, my body still buzzing from his touch.
I grab the whiskey, take a long pull, but it doesn’t help.
Spike’s trouble, and I’m in deep.
I pace the cabin, trying to get my head straight.
The Vipers, the cops, the bank job—they’re all closing in, and now I’ve got this kid tearing through my defenses like they’re nothing.
I need to stay focused, keep my distance, but even as I think it, I know I’m lying to myself.
I want him. More than I should.
And way more than is safe.
Outside, a car engine rumbles, too close for comfort. I move to the window, peering through the blinds.
A police cruiser rolls slowly past, its spotlight sweeping the bluff. My stomach twists. They’re sniffing around, probably tipped off by some nosy local who saw my bike. Luckily for me, my bike is well hidden now—I’ve got plenty of years of experience in the bank when it comes to concealing a bike, and fortunately for me all my years of playing the law for fools are now paying off. If I need to keep my bike out of prying eyes, I’m more than capable.
I wait, holding my breath, until the cruiser disappears down the road.
They didn’t stop, but it’s a warning.
Cresthaven’s not as safe as I thought.
I sink onto the couch, my knife in one hand, the whiskey in the other. Spike’s face flashes in my mind again—but this time I’m thinking about our kiss. I could have pinned him down, ripped his clothes off and taken him right there and then.
But I held back.
Almost like I wanted to tease myself, make me want him even more, push myself until I can’t handle my desire for a single second longer.
Spike’s a complication I can’t afford, but I’m not sure I can stay away.
And with all the puzzles and problems in my life right now, that’s just one issue I really shouldn’t be adding to the list…
