Page 28 of Feuds and Interludes
“I told you, Shane, Iwantyou to.”
“Why? I mean, why me? Why now?”
He shrugged one shoulder and lowered his chin, looking up at me with those fucking deep blue eyes, and my heart raced like I’d just had five shots of espresso.
“Maybe if you touch me, it’ll mean you don’t hate me.”
His perfect voice cracked when he said that, and he followed it up with a pained expression.
He was so perfect. All of him. And I’d been awful to him because I couldn’t stand that he was so perfect. Why, though? Why had I held on to these feelings for so long? Why hadn’t I just reached out and touched him before?
“Shane?” His nervous laugh jarred me from my internal battle. “Do you want…me?”
Of course I did, that’s why I’d been such an asshole. Didn’t he see that? Did he really think I hated him?
If I touched him, though?—
“Goddammit, Collins,” I whispered. I grabbed his biceps and pulled him close, probably a little too forcefully, but any second my resolve was going to snap like a rubber band and the sting when it hit was going to fucking suck. I knew this was going to hurt, and I did it anyway.
Boone tilted his head up, and like this? He was even more sensual than when he sang, and I hadn’t thought that was possible, that there was even more passion in him than what he gave to his audiences.
And what did I have to givehim?
“Yes, Butler?” His eyes flared, and he laughed.
He’d imitated my much deeper voice, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
He sighed. “You have such a nice smile, Shane. Like the sun, it’s too powerful to look at for long, and like an eclipse, it’s so rare.”
I rolled my eyes, but I stroked the backs of his arms with my thumbs, up under the sleeves of his v-neck shirt. My thumb ran over the bottom of his glucose monitor, and my heart swelled for him. He was dealing with so much, and yet, he seemed totally lucid now, here, in my arms. “You gonna be the poet now? Come on, be straight with me.”
His smile faded, and that made me even more nervous.
“Fine. I love your smile, but when you scowl at me? Give me that ‘dammit Collins’ look? I want you to fuck me.”
I gripped his arms tighter as molten heat consumed me.
“Fuck, Boone. You can’t be serious.”
“Hmm? That I want you to fuck me? I’mdeadserious, Shane. And there happens to be a bed right here.” He looked over his shoulder and when he turned back, he pressed his pelvis against me. There was no ignoring the heat he was throwing off, the bulge in his pants. “Tell me why we shouldn’t?”
I gave no retort, no argument against what he was suggesting. I knew that if it went wrong, it would go WAY wrong. Getting closer to Boone could have catastrophic effects. But the bottom line? If thisdidn’thappen, my obsession with Boone Collins would continue to grow, would devour me, and I wouldn’t make it back in one piece.
I ran a finger through the hair next to his ear and lifted it away. I leaned in close, feeling him shiver as I spoke. “What’s off limits?”
I gazed into his eyes, waiting for his response.
The dreamy look on his face faded for a moment and in a sober tone, he said, “Don’t pull my hair. Please. That’s all.”
“Done.” There was a story there, but as he placed his hands tentatively on my waist, under my shirt, I didn’t want to break the spell, the magic he’d woven around us with his request.
“You?” He slid his hand under my shirt, up my back and then around to the front, brushing his thumb over my nipple.
“Don’t pull my hair either.”
It got the desired effect. He laughed and it became a moment not so full of tension. He reached both hands up to my head and ran his fingers over my baldness.
“I love this,” Boone said, moaning. “So sexy.”
