Page 122 of The Last Inch Of Ice
“That’s not—you can’t just—” Kai’s hands are shaking. From adrenaline or anger or the sheer shock of Nazar being here when he’s supposed to be in Vancouver. “You’re not supposed to be here until tomorrow!”
“I know.” Nazar cups his face with both hands—those large, warm hands that Kai has dreamed about for months. “Couldn’t wait.”
Then he kisses him.
Kai knows his reaction is exaggerated. Knows that objectively, Nazar stepping out from behind a pillar in a parking garage is not actually a life-threatening situation. But his heart is still racing, his adrenaline still spiking, and now Nazar is kissing him and it’s—
It’s too much. All of it.
He kisses back anyway, his hands fisting in Nazar’s jacket, pulling him closer even as his brain screams about security cameras and public spaces and the fact that anyone could walk in.
When they finally break apart, both breathing hard, Nazar’s smile has shifted into something softer. More private.
“Come on,” he murmurs against Kai’s mouth. “Let’s go upstairs.”
They make it to the elevator. Through the lobby—Kai nodding distractedly at the concierge. Up a few floors in silence, Nazar’s hand a warm, possessive weight on the small of Kai’s back.
The moment Kai’s front door closes behind them, Nazar is on him.
They stumble through the living room, hands already pulling at clothes, mouths seeking skin.
Kai’s back hits the wall—then the edge of the couch—then they’re moving again, a graceless trajectory toward the bedroom.
“Shouldn’t you eat, Rykov?” Kai manages between kisses. His voice comes out breathless. “I know you’re always hungry.”
Nazar pauses, pulls back just enough to look at him. There’s something considering in his expression. Then his mouth curves into that rare smile.
“Shut up,” he says gently. Almost fondly.
Before Kai can respond, Nazar pushes him onto the bed. The mattress dips under his weight, and then Nazar is over him, his mouth finding that spot on Kai’s neck.
“Wait—” Kai’s voice comes out weak, already wrecking. “I wasn’t joking. I’m really ready to feed you properly. I have—there’s food in the fridge. Real food. Not just—”
Nazar stops. Lifts his head. Looks at Kai with an expression so serious it’s almost intimidating.
“I think,” he says, his voice dropping to that low, rough register that makes Kai’s toes curl, “you’re going to feed methe right waynow.”
Kai curses inwardly as a moan escapes him.
Because of course. Of course the one time Nazar decides to be articulate, it’s about sex. The man can barely string three words together about emotions or logistics or literally anything practical, but when it comes to this—
Kai’s thoughts dissolve as Nazar’s mouth returns to his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, his hands already working Kai’s jeans open.
Afterward, they lie tangled in sheets.
Kai’s body feels pleasantly heavy, wrung out in the best way. Nazar is sprawled beside him, one arm thrown over Kai’s waist, his breathing evening out into something close to sleep.
“I’m getting food,” Kai announces to the ceiling. “Real food. You’re going to eat actual calories.”
“Mm.” Nazar’s arm tightens around him. “Later.”
“Now. You chartered a jet, which means you probably skipped lunch. And knowing you, you probably also skipped breakfast because—”
“Kai.”
“—you thought you could just exist on willpower and spite until you got here, but that’s not—”
Nazar rolls on top of him, effectively pinning him to the mattress. His dark eyes are amused. “You talk too much.”
