Page 25 of His Favorite Color is Blood
Grim hid the phone behind his back. His lips pulsed with the need to kiss the broken limbs that were within his reach. “I was looking at you.”
“Were you taking photos?” Misha’s breath got quicker, and he pulled his legs to his chest as if to protect them, clearly unaware that getting to see them move was pushing Grim’s arousal into sky-high levels.
Grim shrugged, not seeing any sense in denying Misha’s question, even though he disliked the accusatory tone. “Only a few.”
Just as Grim was expecting Misha to complain and cuddle up in the comforter, Misha sprung forward and pushed Grim to the bed, trying to pull the phone out of Grim’s hand. “Are you insane?”
Grim stretched his hand to keep the phone out of Misha’s grasp, though the weight on top of him was not unwelcome, shifting and digging into his own flesh as Misha struggled against Grim’s strength. “What are you doing?”
“Anyone can break into your phone! I’ll be dead if they find me! Are those photos just on your phone or in the cloud, too? Is your Internet on?” Misha’s eyes were wide as he tried to wrestle down Grim’s arm, straddling his chest.
“In the cloud? What does that even mean?” groaned Grim, and he put his hand on Misha’s ass. He understood that Misha was nervous about someone following him, but this was beyond ridiculous. “How would they even know which phone to target out of all the others in the country? It’s statistically impossible.”
“There’s face recognition programs. And if they assume I left with a biker, they could narrow down their search. What do you mean you don’t know what the cloud is? Are your photos automatically saved to a folder on the Internet?” Misha grabbed Grim’s jaw and showed his teeth. “Stop touching my ass and think.”
Thinking was difficult with Misha on top, especially with his eyes so fierce and the stumps touching Grim’s sides. “Er ... I don’t know?”
“Fuck. Give me your phone. Now.” Misha squinted at him. “You haven’t shared this anywhere, right?”
Grim shook his head, and he chewed on his lip, unable to think about anything but that hot body on top of him. “I’ll give it to you if I can touch them.”
For a moment, Misha’s face went blank. “Okay,” he finally muttered, settling in Grim’s lap.
Grim smiled and pulled him closer as he passed Misha the phone. “You’re afraid of shadows. No one’s gonna come for you. Besides, I already told you that I’m gonna help. You’re totally safe,” he promised, gliding his palm over the stump that was scarred the most. A flash of heat filled his stomach and tugged on Grim’s balls as he gently petted Misha’s leg while holding him and watching that pretty face go all serious, like an angry toddler’s. Misha needed to be eased into it gradually and understand that Grim wouldn’t do anything nasty just because he was allowed near the stumps.
Grim bit his lips when the stump twitched slightly at his touch, but Misha didn’t even look at him, too busy meddling with Grim’s phone.
“You don’t know these people. You don’t know what they do. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Grim exhaled and gently tickled the other stump. He leaned in and kissed Misha’s temple, breathing in the scent of last night’s sweat. He was sorry to let the photos go, but if a happy Misha was a Misha that would be more sexually open, then he’d sacrifice the pictures. “All right. No photos.”
“Not to mention that it’s fucked up that you’d take them when I was sleeping. I’m not a fancy lunch you can put on Facebook.” He pursed his lips and threw the phone to the bedding, as if it were a slimy dead frog.
Grim kissed Misha’s cheekbone, hugging him. “I’m not sharing them with anyone. You’re all mine now.”
Misha gave Grim’s face a shove. “Are you done touching?”
Grim massaged his jaw and frowned. “What was that? I said I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry. You’re only sorry you got caught. I thought we had a connection yesterday, and you perv on me with photos when I’m sleeping? What the fuck?” He tried to slip out of Grim’s grasp, but Grim only held him tighter.
“You don’t let me touch them so I thought I’d at least have photos for now. I can’t see how this is hurting you. I’m not gonna force myself on you, and you should already know I mean no harm!”
“You’re deluded. That’s what you are. I told you yesterday that I was freaking out over cameras. Or did you not listen, too busy thinking of ways to coerce me into letting you touch them? Fucking Christ. This is so messed up.” Misha rubbed his eyes, and Grim could not understand what the big deal was about.
“I listened, but it’s a phobia. Like those people who are afraid of spiders for no reason. I wasn’t sending anything to anyone.”
“Let me go. I need to shower.” Misha wouldn’t meet Grim’s gaze, which only ignited Grim further.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, huh?” He pulled Misha’s face up.
“Nothing. I just don’t know what to think. I need some space.”
Grim pressed his lips together and patted Misha’s back. He was unsure how to navigate this. “But the sex was great,” he reminded Misha.
“I guess it would have been even better for you if you got to suck on my stumps, right?” Misha grumbled, and Grim let him slide out of his embrace. He was beyond cute when he crawled across the bed and reached out for his wheelchair, digging his knees hard into the mattress for balance.
Grim massaged the side of his face, already tired of this argument. “I’m trying to respect your boundaries, and you still give me shit. I don’t know what you want from me.”
