Page 33 of Dead Wrong

The buzzing in my head intensified as memories bubbled to the surface?—

We stood in an alleyway, the night sky above twinkling with only the brightest of stars. Bastien’s hands were on my waist, fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he pulled me tighter against him, my breath coming in short bursts that steamed between us. Bastien’s eyes held me in place as he drew closer, closing the almost non-existent distance between us. Thunder rumbled through my chest. The taste of coffee, bitter, then sweet against my tongue. The smell of lilacs, floral and crisp. It was everything I had been missing—this pleasure that washed over me. No strings attached. No manipulations at play. Just me and this man who ignited the smoldering heat in my chest with every flick of his tongue and every caress of his fingers?—

I shoved Bastien away with all of my strength, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I spat, running a hand over my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Bastien said quickly, his eyes shut as he pressed a hand to his forehead. “Gods, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. But Tobi, the last few days have been absolutelyinsufferable.Then today, being so close and not being able to touch you—it’s been torturous.”

“What are you talking about?” I questioned, straining further against the restraints on my legs. Was this some sort of ploy? Did Bastien intend to catch me off guard, to blindside me with this show of affection so I wouldn’t put up a fight when it came to returning me to the grave? “Why would you kiss me like that? I thought… things were over between us.”

Bastien’s eyes opened, the edges of his mouth pulling downward. “It’s complicated.”

I ran a hand over the scar on my chest, the warmth steadying me. “Then I suggest you start talking. And make it quick.”

“I know it must be confusing for you,” said Bastien. “But I promise you, this is all a part of the plan.”

My blood ran cold.

“Whatplan?”

Bastien’s hands found my waist again as he pulled me into his apartment. The door shut behind us with a thud as we wrestled back and forth for control of the kiss that pinned us together. His jacket was the first thing to go, falling to the floor by the door as he staggered back, nearly bumping into the small kitchenette set that sat a few feet into the apartment. His fingers wrapped around the scarf hanging from my neck and tugged it off, discarding it alongside my coat.

“Nice place,” I muttered between breaths, and he exhaled a laugh into my mouth before diving in again.

Bastien had no trouble taking control, his strong hands on my waist, steering me further into the apartment and onto the small couch pushed up against the wall. We broke apart long enough for my back to hit the cushion, and then he crashed down on top of me, covering me up in all the delicious exuberance he could muster.

For once, I didn’t mind giving up control. Surrendering to his whims as his tongue parted my lips and grazed my teeth, and his warm fingers prodded the space between the buttons of my shirt, leaving heat trails along my body.

“Is that okay?” he asked, still close enough that I could feel the heat of his words, still taste the coffee-sweet succulence of his breath.

“More than okay,” I replied, unfastening the first two buttons with a single tug.

That was more than enough encouragement for him to finish the job, removing my shirt a moment later and tossing it to the floor. I shuddered as his fingers grazed my bare chest, desire smoldering in my gut like the embers of a fire hungry for another round of wood.

It had been so long since I’d experienced this kind of connection with someone. Sexual activity had become rote, just another part of the role I executed for Mother. But with Bastien, everything was new again. Each caress, each swipe of his tongue electrified my senses. My head swam in an elevated stupor.

“Take off your shirt,” I told him, and he grinned at my direct order, pulling his sweater over his head in obedience.

When he lay into me again, the friction of his skin against mine was a chorus of sensations, all pooling at the base of my spine. His hands explored the angles of my body, each ridge and valley a new frontier for them to discover. When he grazed my crotch, my hips bucked, grinding my cock against his touch with an urgency that surprised me.

Bastien laughed, pulling his hand away and saying, “Patience.”

I pouted—I actually pouted—like a sullen child not getting their way. I don’t know what came over me, but my cheeks burned with embarrassment. Bastien only grinned wider, kissing me again and trailing the inside of my thigh with his hand.

“We’ll get there,” he said as if comforting me. He didn’t give me long to stew in my own self-consciousness as he began to press kisses down my chest and along the thin line of hair to my navel.

“Ah, oh gods,” I moaned as the tips of his fingers brushed along the waist of my slacks, slipping under the fabric to skim the sensitive skin beneath. My cock strained almost painfully against my undergarments, begging for him to touch me again.

“What is it, love?” Bastien teased, flashing a wicked grin.

His head was between my legs now, fingers tangled in my waistband as he traced the lightest circles on my inner thigh with his lips. Electricity ran up my spine, jolting me as he grazed my cock again, and I couldn’t help but cry out.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Bastien commented with a smirk, lifting his head up from his work and resting his chin on my navel.

“Don’t stop now,” I whined, the haze clouding my mind building to a point of no return.

“Patience,” he repeated himself, pushing on my inner thighs till my legs spread wide enough for him to sink into the space between them on the couch. He ground himself against me, and stars exploded into my vision.

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