Page 54 of Sliding into Love
I should say no. We have a million things to do before the first pitch. But the look in his eyes, all dark and intense and full of a feeling I'm not quite ready to name, makes me nod.
"Two minutes," I agree.
The hall he leads me to is tucked away, barely more than an alcove. The air is thick with everything we've been dancing around.
"What did you need to talk about?" I ask.
Kenneth doesn't answer right away. Instead, he moves closer, backing me up until my back hits the wall. His hands come to rest on either side of me, caging me in.
"I can't keep doing this," he says quietly.
My stomach drops. "Doing what?"
"Pretending." He's so close now I can feel his breath against my face. "Pretending that I don't think about you constantly. That I don't want you so badly it's driving me insane. That working with you all morning, being this close to you, hasn't been absolute torture."
Oh. Oh.
"Kenneth…"
His breath hitches. We're standing too close, the tension between us crackling like electricity. I can see the want in his eyes, the way he's barely holding himself back.
"Gillies told me I needed to be crystal clear with you," he continues, his voice rough. "So here it is. I like you, Royce. Not as a colleague. Not as Bellamy's sibling. I like you. I want you. I think about you constantly. I sent you food on Christmas because I couldn't stand the thought of you being sick and miserable. I've been messing with your stuff all day just to have an excuse to be near you, to talk to you, to?—"
I cut him off by grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down until our mouths are almost touching.
"You're not the only one who's been going insane," I breathe against his lips.
The sound he makes, a mix between a groan and a sigh, sends heat straight through me. Then his mouth is on mine, and everything else falls away.
The kiss is desperate, hungry, months of tension finally snapping. His hands slide into my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss, and I press closer, needing more contact, more of him. He tastes like coffee and mint and a flavor so uniquely Kenneth, and I'm already addicted.
We break apart for air, both breathing hard. Kenneth's pupils are blown wide, his lips already swollen.
"Royce," he says, my name a prayer and a plea.
I glance at my watch, trying to make my brain work. "We have twenty-five minutes before the suites open."
"Twenty-five minutes," he repeats. His hand slides down my side, gripping my hip. "We can work with that."
Pushing him back, I turn us so he’s the one against the wall now. I kiss him again, harder this time, and he arches into me. I’d been allowing him to take a bit of control, but enough is enough.
"You wanted my attention," I say, my voice low and commanding, letting him hear everything I'm feeling. "Now you have it."
One of his hands fists in my hair while the other grabs my shoulder, my back, anywhere he can reach. It’s like he wants to hold on for dear life while I ravage his mouth.
This is insane. We're supposed to be working. The game is about to start and I'm making out with Kenneth Meyer.
I don't care.
My mouth moves to his jaw, his neck, finding that sensitive spot just below his ear that makes him gasp. His head falls back, giving me better access, and I take full advantage, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
"Royce," he breathes. "You can't…people will see?—"
"Good." I bite down gently, and he jolts. "Let them see. Let them know you're mine."
The possessiveness in my voice does a number on him. He grabs my face, pulling me back up to kiss him again, harder, deeper. My hips roll forward of their own accord, and I can feel how hard he is, pressing against me. The friction makes us both groan.
"Fuck," Kenneth gasps against my mouth. "Royce, we need to…we can't?—"
