Page 76 of Fire & Ice

Usually, this would be the part where Tripp would deflect, where he’d make up some reason as to why their friends are circus material and no one should listen to them ever, about anything. But tonight, taking in the way that Leander is staring up at him, so soft and hopeful, Tripp can’t do it.

God,this is a risk. This is so much harder than fighting or fucking Lee for fun and in the name of“stress relief”could ever be. In fact, it’s harder thananythingTripp haseverdone in his entire life not to throw up walls, not to try and protect himself from whatfeelslike obvious, inevitable rejection, and the ensuing heartache.

…but what if?

“Yeah,” he manages finally, completely dry-mouthed and anxious, the weight of his lack of denial sitting heavy on his shoulders. Despite his fear and the pounding of his heart in his chest, Tripp doesn’t look away. “Guess so.”

And then he and Lee are kissing, hands on faces, sloppy because they’ve both had more than their fair share of alcohol, but hot and delicious all the same.

“What—” Leander starts, but Tripp cuts him off with a tongue in his mouth, a nip to his top lip, and Lee growls a little in the back of his throat. When Tripp pulls away, his friend looks positively predatory.

“When does this party end?” he asks, blue eyes dark, lips slick and kiss-bitten, andright the fuck now,if Tripp has anything to say about it.

He starts to reply with exactly that sentiment, but groans and reels himself in at the very last second. This is his little brother’swedding.Tripp isnotgoing to bounce early just to get laid. Even if he does have to repeat that phrase in his head two more times before it fully sinks in. Once he has a handle on himself again, Tripp steps forward, grabbing Leander by the hips and sighing.

“Soon,” he replies, and then actually looks at his watch. “Half-hour, tops. Newlyweds are leaving, they’re staying the night at some B&B out in the ‘burbs, something about banging in proximity to relatives…I dunno.”

“No honeymoon?”

“Schedules didn’t sync for extended time off until next week. Whatever, who cares? Are you going to fuck me? When we get home?”

“I’m going to do unspeakable things to you,” Leander replies softly,waytoo gentle for the absolute promise those words hold, anddamn it,Tripp’s pants are tight again. Hewantsto take Leander into a dark corner of the room right now and investigate this—whatever they fuck they’re doing—further, but there are giggling girls nearby, whispering and definitively pointing in their direction.

Again, Tripp sighs and throws up a middle finger towards Ro and Marley (and probably fuckin’ Avery—he doesn’t evenknowAvery), looping his arm through Leander’s and dragging him away to the only adequate or available replacement for sex.

Sugar.

That turns out to be somewhat of a mistake, since watching Leander lick chocolate off of his dexterous fingers does nothing to settle Tripp’s once-again-dire pants situation. Lee notices—because of course, he notices—and grins, something feral and knowing, and he puts on a real show of finishing cleaning off his index finger. Tripp keens, but Leander makes it up to him by finding a piece of cake and hand-feeding it to him with those same fingers, letting each one linger in Tripp’s mouth so that he can tongue around it.

“Been awhile since we did that,” Tripp observes with his mouth still full, all faux-casual as Leander wipes his wet fingers off on a napkin.

“Mmm,” he agrees. “We should rectify that tomorrow morning. Breakfast in bed, I’ll feed it to you and then ride your cock. Perhaps I’ll feed it to you while riding your cock.”

“Jesus Christ, Lee,” Tripp swears, crossing one leg over the other and glancing around to see if anyone heard him.

Leander just shrugs, undoing his work with the napkin by sticking another strawberry under the spill of the chocolatefountain and failing to keep his fingers out of the way. “Most everyone here is certainly asking for it. They’re the ones who keep shoving us together, rigged wedding games and all. If they happen to overhear the fruits of their labor, that is exclusively on them.”

Tripp just blinks back at him, mid-chew.

“Besides,” Leander continues, eating the strawberry himself and sorely disappointing Tripp. “That was meant to be motivation. A theoretical reward. You only get it if you behave tonight, and survive everything I have to throw at you.”

“Fuck,” Tripp swears. “I’m going to go see if Beau and Bri's ride is here.” He turns on his heel, needing to press a hand against his crotch as he tries to appear nonchalant in his saunter away. The low laugh that follows in his wake suggests that he is not very successful, and Tripp doesn’t care at all.

***

The door to the newlywed's limo is barely closed behind the poofy train of Bri's giant dress when Leander’s still-sticky fingers are twisting into Tripp’s. Without asking, Lee high-tails it in the opposite direction, yanking Tripp along after him.

“Wait,” Tripp protests, digging in his heels. “Shouldn’t we say goodnight to everyone? Offer to help clean up, or whatever? I got no idea how this fancy shit works, the last wedding I went to was in a fire hall and everyone was supposed to bring their own chairs.”

Leander snorts, but doesn’t slow down or even so much as glance back over his shoulder. “I said our goodbyes while you were speaking to Beau, and our bags are already in the car. Trust me, Tripp, no one is expecting us back.”

While the concept of Leander saying “their” goodbyes to all of his friends and family sinks slowly into Tripp’s head, Leeleads them directly to a waiting black sedan. It’s idling by the curb with a driver already seated at the wheel.

“No regrets on skipping out on the hotel stay?” Tripp asks, as they both slide into the back seat. “This place is pretty swanky.”

After confirming his address with the driver, Leander turns and raises an eyebrow at Tripp. “The hotel doesn’t have heavy-duty suspension hooks driven into the ceiling joists,” he remarks. In front of them, the driver does a double-take into the rearview mirror that has Tripp thanking God it’s too dark for the guy to make out the blush surely staining his face.

Despite the sexual tension that has been following him and Leander everywhere they roamed—especially the dessert table—all damn night, the ride home in the car is surprisingly low-key. Both of them are exhausted, spending the majority of the trip slumped back in their seats and staring aimlessly out the window. Leander’s hand finds Tripp’s in the middle of the seat, though, tracing patterns over his palm with a warm thumb before working open the button of his cuff and absently fingering the collar that’s still wrapped around his wrist.

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