Page 14 of The Head Game

“No?” He stepped closer, skimming his cold nose against August’s cheek. His breath was warm and minty. He pressed his lips to August’s jaw, breathing out, sending another shiver down August’s spine. “So I could touch you and you’d be totally unaffected? Bored with the whole thing?”

“Probably.”

Arents shifted, pressing his chest against August’s until he was flat against the brick wall.

Arents flicked his tongue against August’s earlobe and sucked it into his mouth. It was shockingly warm in the cold night air and goosebumps prickled August’s skin when he let go.

“You don’t want to know how good I am with my mouth? You don’t think I could bring you to the edge and make you beg for it?” Arents whispered.

He cupped August’s neck, using his thumb to coax August to tilt his head to the side.

He tugged August’s scarf low, then pressed a wet kiss to the side of his neck.

Involuntarily, August clenched his fist and realized he had a grip on Arents’ soft wool coat.

To his horror, he realized he’d pulled him closer too, their hips pressed together now.

August swallowed, mouth dry. “Beg for it to be over, maybe.”

God, why did he sound so breathless? It was supposed to come out sneering and unaffected by what Arents was doing.

Arents gently scraped his teeth against August’s skin before biting down and sucking lightly.

August felt it in the pit of his stomach, his cock rising even as he bit back a moan.

“You like to pretend you’re totally unaffected by me but I don’t believe it for a minute,” Arents whispered against his skin. “You want me.”

The smug triumph in his voice was infuriating, enough to make August place a hand on Arents’ chest to push him away.

“No. We absolutely can’t do this,” August said firmly.

Arents lifted his head, lips twitched in a little smile. “Hmm. Funny. I notice you didn’t say you don’t want to.”

Another traitorous flutter of interest kicked up in August’s stomach. “I didn’t say I did,” he lied.

Because no, he didn’t fucking want to want Nico Arents.

He was a cocky asshole. He was a rich, spoiled playboy without the sense God gave a goose.

A talented player who never took himself seriously enough to become as great as he had the potential to be.

Absolutely everything August detested.

And yet, loneliness loomed large. If August went back to the hotel alone tonight, he’d have a sleepless, miserable night, torturing himself with thoughts of what could have been with Daniel.

A wide, yearning chasm opened inside August’s chest. Nothing would fill it and yet he knew if he didn’t try to plug it with something, he’d regret it.

“Oh come on, August,” Arents teased. Something about the way his tongue curled around his name made heat flood August’s belly again. “Live a little. Just this once.”

With a noise of frustration, August groaned and grabbed the back of his head. “You’re infuriating, Arents.”

Their lips inches apart, Arents smirked, running a tongue over his full lower lip. “I think you can call me Nico now.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Nico.”

* * *

August Manning was a much better kisser than Nico had anticipated.

---