Page 60 of Strength of Desire

He wrenched his arm out of my grasp. “No.”

“No?” I said roughly.

“No.” Lew looked at my defiantly. “Fucking no. You don’t get to show up here after weeks of no contact and throw me against a wall like no time has passed. No.”

“You like it when I throw you against a wall,” I growled. I was getting annoyed. I’d come here to get my fix, not to talk aboutfeelingswith Lew. The whole point was that we didn’t let feelings get involved.

“Yeah, but I have a life. You shouldn’t assume I’ll always be at your beck and call.”

“You’re here, aren’t you? Sitting at the same table, nursing the same beer for over an hour.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to tonight. Maybe I’m just here to drink.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” I bit the words off. Yeah, I usually came down to the Balsam Inn more frequently than I had recently. But since when did Lew give a shit how often I showed up? Since when did he have anything better to do?

He glared at me. I glared back. After a moment of silence, I made a disgusted noise in the back of my throat and turned away.

“Suit yourself.”

I was pissed, but I couldn’tmakehim want to hook up. Lew liked it rough, sure, but I didn’t get off on forcing people.

I stalked back to the door, already planning what I’d do when I got back to campus. Maybe I’d run the five-mile loop, unencumbered by a gaggle of students trailing after me. Maybe I’d hang up a punching bag in the gym and work my energy out that way.

Tom looked at me when I reached the door, holding up the key to the room upstairs—the single room that made up the ‘inn’ part of the Balsam Inn. I shook my head. I wouldn’t be needing that tonight.

I was still on the wooden steps outside when I heard the door open behind me. I turned to see Lew framed in the doorway. We stared at each other for a long moment, and then he bit his lip.

I knew in that second that I had him. A current of energy ran through me. I arched an eyebrow.

“Maybe I changed my mind,” he said.

“Should have fucking known. Go get the key from Tom.”

“No,” Lew said. “Fuck that.”

He was down the steps before I could take a breath, and he tugged me by my jacket cuff. He pulled me across the parking lot until we were leaning up against my 1979 Buick Skylark. I looked at him in surprise when he pushed me against the driver’s side door.

Lew bit his lip again, and two things happened at once: the same current of energy shot through me, and a cascade of images of Cory rushed through my mind.

Cory, rosy-cheeked and breathing hard after a run. Cory, alone and determined, trying to cast a spell in Nat’s classroom. Cory, staring at me, eyes wide and fearful after the moraghin attack. He’d looked up at me as I’d felt his body, checking for injuries, for blood. And he’d bitten his lip, just like Lew was doing now.

I shook my head, forcing the images out of my mind. I brought my attention back to Lew. He slid his left hand down my chest, his right one groping at my groin. He palmed across my crotch, feeling my cock, and his eyes went wide in surprise.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I wasn’t hard.

I blinked, staring at Lew, who was staring at me. His eyes were a deep brown, with dark circles below, sunken into sallow skin. Nothing like Cory’s gorgeous blue-gray.

And just like that, my mind was on Cory again, on the way he’d looked tonight, in the light of the bonfire. His haunting eyes, his nostrils flared as he breathed in sharply, his lips parted as if to ask a question—or preparing for a kiss.

Please God don’t let us be related.

The words floated into my mind out of nowhere, and I shoved them away, then gestured for Lew to get on his knees. I didn’t care if I was related to Cory, because nothing was ever going to happen between us. I’d let myself get too close to him, care too much. But I needed to put a stop to that.

I wasn’t going to think about him tonight. I certainly wasn’t going to let him ruin this thing with Lew. I didn’t care if he was gorgeous. Didn’t care if he was an incubus. Didn’t care if my cock had no trouble getting hard at thoughts ofhim.

He was off-limits. I’d made that rule myself. I wanted nothing to do with him.

I jerked my chin at the ground, waiting for Lew to kneel. He gasped as his knees hit the dirty mix of gravel and snow, cold likely soaking in through his stained jeans. I would have felt bad, if I hadn’t seen the hunger in his eyes.

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