Page 24 of Jingle Bell Flock
An awareness that we’d crossed a line we couldn’t uncross, and we’d keep on crossing it. That neither of us wanted to stop.
That there were feelings involved now, even if neither of us was ready to say it out loud.
And the truth was, I wanted him.
Again.
But this time, I wanted to be the one who made him fall apart and put him back together again. Wanted to hear him beg the way he used to.
“Harrison,” I said, my voice dropping low.
His eyes dropped to his mug, then snapped back up to mine, and whatever he saw in my expression made his pupils dilate. “Yeah?”
I stood, rounding the table slowly, my fingers dragging lightly over the wood top. He tracked my movement, his breath quickening as I approached.
“Upstairs, now. Unless you want to get fucked over this table.”
He scraped his chair back and pushed to his feet. “Next time.”
Then he bolted, running through the kitchen and taking the stairs two at a time like we were kids again and racing to see who could get to my room first.
“Cheater!” I called after him, breaking into a run.
His laugh echoed down the stairwell, bright and unguarded and so fucking different from the careful way he’d tiptoed around me for the past six months. It was the laugh I remembered—the one I’d missed without realizing it.
I caught him on the landing, my hand closing around his wrist and spinning him toward me. His momentum carried him into my chest, and I backed him against the wall, both of us breathing hard and grinning like idiots.
“You always were quicker than me,” I said, my eyes flicking down to his mouth.
“Still am.” His eyes were dancing, playful in a way I’d almost forgotten.
“It’s a good thing I’m stronger.”
I kissed him, still smiling against his mouth, and felt his answering grin curve against my lips. But the smile faded asthe kiss deepened, as his hands slid into my hair and my body pressed harder against his.
Our playfulness shifted into something heavier. Needier.
I bent my knees, gripped his thighs, and hauled him up.
“Fuck, Jeremy,” he whispered. “I want you so bad.”
“Same,” I growled, bracing him against the wall and rocking into him, our cocks grinding together, so he could feel just how badly.
His teeth dragged along my lower lip, tugging with just enough pressure to make my knees weak.
“Why is this so good?”
“Because it’s us,” he whispered, his head falling back to land with a soft thud against the plaster.
The words hit me harder than they should have. Us. Like we were still an “us” after all this time. Like we could be that again.
I kissed my way down the column of his throat until I reached the curve where his neck met his shoulder, the salt of his skin on my tongue as I bit down. His sharp intake of breath echoed in the hallway.
One of his hands slipped between us, his palm hot through my jeans as he traced the outline of my cock. “I want this inside me so bad.”
I sucked hard enough at his throat to leave a mark, feeling his pulse race beneath my lips. “Mmm, can’t wait.”
“Bedroom. Now,” he said, tugging on my hair.
