Page 27 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

His teeth closed around my lower. He bit down, pulling back my lip until it slipped out from between his teeth.

And then he let his hand slide up from my chest to my neck.

He cupped his hand around my throat, applying a gentle pressure, sending me deep into a half-hypnotized trance as he stared into my eyes.

“Fuck,” I hissed, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“You sure you like this?” he murmured, pushing just a little harder on my neck. His hand was big and warm. I looked up at him again.

“More than you could even imagine,” I said, my voice coming out strange as I felt my Adam’s apple move against the palm of his hand.

I could come from this.

I wanted to reach down and grip my cock. Jesse’s hand around my neck suddenly made me into a feral animal. I didn’t have to show him how I liked to be touched—he already knew, and he handled me like he was well aware of what I needed. Right up to the limit, where it felt best.

Please just fucking take me.

After a moment he slid his hand down. I missed it instantly. He put his arms around me instead, squeezing me in a close, too-sweet hug, letting one hand come up behind my head and grip into my hair again.

“I want it, Jesse,” I said as he kissed against the side of my head, his lips brushing against my earlobe. “But—”

“But you can’t,” he said. “I get it. I understand.”

I watched him, heart pounding, as he looked off at the fire’s glow. He was resigned, but not upset. He looked almost sad for a moment, maybe broken, like he didn’t want it to be over, either. The crackle of the fire went on beside us, the moment stretching out so far I was sure it would snap.

When he looked back at me, I didn’t know if he was more likely to jump me, rip my clothes off and fuck me—or if he was about to say goodbye, make a clean exit out of my house, and never see me again.

Then something flashed.

Multiplesomethings flashed, all at once.

Suddenly, all around us, the power came back on.

A lamp in the living room illuminated, as well as my porch light and one in the kitchen. Apparently I’d left the TV on when I left home earlier, too, because it flickered on and the end ofThe Breakfast Clubstarted to play.

I felt like I’d just been caught red-handed, somewhere I shouldn’t have been, even though all I’d been doing was kissing a guy in my dark living room.

Jesse pulled in a long breath of air, standing up.

“You were watchingThe Breakfast Club, huh?” he said, a normal, gentle calm returning to his voice.

I wanted a stopwatch that would take me back to a minute ago. I wanted to live in that moment.

I was still so hard it hurt.

I exhaled, collecting myself and trying to act something close to normal. “I don’t want to hear any shit from you. That movie is a classic.”

He held up his hands. “Hey, I love it, too. I’m all on-board with that.”

So this was what we were doing now?

Acting like that kiss hadn’t been the hottest thing I’d fucking done all year, and going back to idle chit-chat again? I still felt like I was in free-fall.

He reached for his leather jacket, which he’d tossed over the back of my couch. He shrugged it on, giving me a little salute.

“Have a good night, Mason,” he said, nodding before heading for the front door.

Damn. Guess the chit-chat wasn’t even an option anymore, either.

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