Page 91 of In Step

I grunted with each drive, pleasure building in my body as Kane connected with my prostate time and time again.

“I’m close.” He opened his eyes and buried his tongue into my open mouth before planting his face on the pillow beside my head.

“Then go,” I told him, sliding a hand between us to grab my cock.

He slowed a little, taking each thrust deeper instead. Once, twice, three times before coming with a loud groan, tensing and jerking with each surge of release.

I joined him a few strokes later, arching up in his arms and spilling thick ropes of come between us as he shuddered with the squeeze my orgasm put around his cock.

“Oh god. Oh god,” he groaned into my ear, falling limp onto my chest. “That was fucking amazing.” He gasped for air, our bodies slick with sweat under the still raging heat pump.

I gave him a moment, then nudged him, chuckling. “I’m pretty sure I’m grilled to well-done and quite possibly crispy around the edges. Can we turn the heat down now?”

He snorted and eased himself free, my arse instantly missing the fullness of him. He tied off the condom and took a second to check it before dropping it into the bin by the bed and reaching for the remote. The heat pump died and I groaned with relief.

Kane starfished on his back and I rolled to face him, pulling the top sheet free and balling the corner to clean our bellies. He took it from me and wiped my tender arse until he was satisfied, then chucked the sheet to the floor and pulled the duvet over us both, snuggling against me.

“Thank you.” His breath fired hot against my chest. “And not just for letting me top you, although it has to be said, that was fucking awesome.”

I snorted.

“I want to thank you for everything. I’m not the same guy I was when you arrived, Abe, andyoudid that for me. You saw past the shit, and you looked atme. And you gave me a chance to maybe like who that person was for the first time in a long while. I can’t ever repay that. All I can do is say thank you.”

It sounded a lot like the beginning of goodbye, and my throat squeezed tight, emotion curdling the breath in my lungs. Unable to answer immediately, I buried my lips in Kane’s glossy hair and kissed his head, buying some time. “You are so very fucking welcome, baby,” I finally croaked. “But you were always you. All I did was fall for the man I saw.”

He went still in my arms, and then, without looking, he covered my mouth with his hand. “No declarations, remember?”

I nodded and kissed his palm. “No declarations.”

He curled up and sighed happily, quickly falling into the deep, even breaths of sleep, while I studied the ceiling and the luminous stars that crossed it and wondered how in the hell I would leave this complicated man without ripping my heart in two.

I wrapped Kane in my arms and kissed his temple as he slept. Then I brushed my lips over his hair and whispered on the softest of breaths, “I love you.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

Kane

A weeksince the great cat burglary and I’d disappeared so far down that rabbit hole of—nope I wasn’t going to say the word out loud—that I doubt I’d ever surface. And I suspected, maybe even hoped, that Abe felt the same, not that I was about to ask him, because either answer to that question wasn’t going to end well. But if he did feel the same way, it would go some way to explaining the sudden appearance of a very large and tooth-achingly sappy elephant in the room every time we were together.

Not to mention the number of times I caught him watching me with that oddly affectionate look in his eye, like I was some dopey puppy he couldn’t wait to cuddle up with. It was either that look or the one that said he wanted to nail my arse over the back of my couch seven ways from Sunday. I could go either way. Each had its own appeal, and more often than not, I didn’t have to choose.

For two grown-arse men, we were ridiculous. As tired as I was at the end of a day working the mussel farm, I’d walk in the door of the bedsit, set eyes on Abe cooking in the kitchen, and within minutes we’d be at each other. Sometimes we didn’t even manage a hello.

Then came food, and more often than not, dancing, sometimes round two, and then bed—curled up in Abe’s arms until my morning alarm. And I loved every domestic, angst-ridden, crushingly tragic, and gloriously happy moment of it. It was wonderful, exciting, addictive, and hugely problematic for my heart, which had waved the white flag and gone down in a pile of embarrassing yearning long before I clued in to it.

I checked my phone for the millionth time and then looked up to find Leroy rolling his eyes.

He chuckled. “Relax, Romeo. We’ll get you back in time.”

“Sorry.” I really needed to chill out. Bad enough that Leroy and Fox had cut an hour off our usual Saturday morning’s work, just so I could pick Abe up from his Wellington flight. It was Patrick’s turn to have Saturday off, and Abe had planned to have Morgan and Judah collect him, but when Leroy found out, he’d scuttled that idea, saying they could all do with an extra few hours off.

I knew that for the lie it was when Fox nearly fell off his chair and promptly laid his hand on Leroy’s forehead. Leroy had grumbled that he was just being a good boss and he could do what he goddamn liked, and Fox had nearly laughed him off the boat.

Regardless of the reasoning, there was no arguing with Leroy when he made up his mind and the matter was settled. Which left me skulking down the back of the boat, trying to pretend I wasn’t coming out of my skin with excitement to see Abe again. This was regardless of the fact we’d texted or called enough to justify an over-winter at Scott Base in Antarctica, rather than a paltry three days in Wellington. I did a mental eye-roll because, really? Kill me now.

Three days. Abe had only been gone three ridiculously long days—like the longest in the history of ridiculously long days—and I was acting like a lovesick teenager, whatevertheywere like, because really, how the fuck would I know?

The whole thing was a fucking mess—a broken heart just waiting to happen. But our time together was limited, and I couldn’t seem to pull back from the edge. It was something I mostly refused to think about, because yeah, ostrich, thy name is Kane.

---