Page 28 of Never Will I Ever

The desire coursing through me spikes with a mixture of anger, bringing my blood to a boiling point. He must realize it too, because the finger against my chest flattens into a palm before he pushes me away. Not enough to cause a stumble, just to garner a bit of space.

But it sets me right the fuck off.

Just not in the way I’d ever expect.

Because, instead of throwing a fist in his face or spewing somehateful words the way my mind is craving to, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and slam my mouth to his.

A soft yelp comes from him, probably out of shock, and it gives me the opportunity to slip my tongue past his lips. The first brush it makes against his sends a bolt of lust all the way to my cock, and as they tangle together, a deep groan rumbles from within his chest. One I swallow down with hunger, greedy for more.

Because this is it. What I’ve been searching for. What I’ve been dying to have.

What’s been missing all these years because I’ve been too much of a coward to allow myself to have it.

But at this moment, none of that matters. Nothing does except the sweeping press of my lips on his. And, after a few moments of hesitation on his part…the way it feels for him to kiss me back.

My hand at the back of his neck snakes up, curling into the hair at the back of his head to anchor him in place. The other grabs his hip as I back him toward the closest tree, and the second his back collides with it, I press my entire body weight against him. I continue devouring him like my life depends on it in what is sure to be the greatest kiss of my life.

Which is…fucking insane. But it’s the truth.

Even while this—touching another man—is something I’ve been taught is unnatural and disgusting my whole life, something that feels this good can’t be wrong. No matter how many times I’ve been told differently or how foreign the concept might be.

Itiswrong! You vile, worthless scum!

But the snarling in my head is quickly drowned out by the feel and taste of him, allowing me to lose myself in the moment and let instinct take over.

I roll my hips into his, eliciting another groan, this time from both of us. And God, if it isn’t fucking amazing. Everything aboutthis is.

The scratch and scrape of his facial hair against my skin.

The firmness of his body, even through his clothes.

The thick ridge of his cock rubbing mine through our jeans.

The way his fingers dig into my hips beneath my hoodie as he truly gives in, kissing me back with the same passionate fury.

His teeth sink into my bottom lip—the bite of pain causing my dick to throb painfully behind my zipper—and when he releases it, the faint taste of blood hits my tongue. It spurs me on and makes me kiss him harder.

We grapple for control over one another, dueling with our tongues and hands while our hips keep bumping and rocking together. I think he’s about to wrap his fists in my hoodie and pull me closer when his palms move up to my pecs. Or maybe spin me around and pin me against the tree instead, pressing against me to the point where there’s not a single air molecule between our bodies.

But he does none of those things, and instead, he flattens them against my chest to push me away for the second time tonight. Enough to not only break our connection but send me stumbling blindly backward.

His chest is heaving like he’s just run a marathon as he glares at me with a mixture of rage and lust. “What the fucking hell, Reynolds?” he seethes.

Shit.

I’m sure he wants an answer, but I’m too busy staring at him in the dim moonlight while I wait for the world to shift back onto its axis. Only it doesn’t. It stays tilted, and the whole thing has me off balance.

I must be out of my goddamn mind. The fresh mountain air, the sun beating down on us from dawn to dusk, and spending every waking moment in the forest must really be fucking with my sanity. It can be the only explanation for what is happeningto me. Why I can’t seem to fight the lust running rampant through my system.

“Reynolds?” he says again, and it’s clear from his tone he wants an answer.

Too bad for both of us, I don’t have one.

I lick my lips, and I swear I can still taste his on them. Feel where they just were, their sudden disappearance creating a cooling effect on mine. There’s a burning rawness to them from where his stubble was scraping against my skin too—something I didn’t know I’d enjoy.

Replaying every second of that kiss like it’s my life force isn’t what needs to happen right now, yet it’s all my brain seems capable of. But then I feel it. The voice, crawling its way to the front of my mind. Sinking its talons deep enough, I actually wince when it speaks to me.

You wretched monstrosity. What have you done?

---