Page 36 of Animal Instincts
“I’m so sorry, I—”
“Hey, it was an accident so there’s nothing to be sorry about. Just let me deal with it for you.”
“Okay.” Joss’ voice was low, raspy, and tremulous. “It just stings really badly. And the blood… I can deal with animal blood, but when it comes to my own…”
“You can close your eyes if you like. If you’re a good boy, I can give you a Crunchi Snax after.”
Joss laughed, just as Oliver hoped he would.
“Reckon I’d like a brandy. Just for medicinal purposes, of course.”
Oliver collected together antiseptic, cottonwool, gauze and a bandage, and laid them out next to Joss on the bench. He edged in close and took Joss’ wounded hand in his. His hand was steady, but it was the only thing about Oliver that was. He breathed in a long, quiet breath as he fought to calm the rapid drum of his heart. A bead of sweat made its slow way down the valley of his backbone.
Concentrate…
Joss hissed as Oliver dabbed the antiseptic soaked cottonwool along the cut. He paused and looked up.
“Are you okay?”
Joss nodded, his eyes scrunched closed. “Sorry for being such a wuss. Bingo was braver than I am.”
“Only a few more moments. In a couple of days you’ll forget this ever happened.”
“Not so sure about that,” Joss said, his voice wavering.
Oliver dressed the wound, quickly and cleanly, letting his training — albeit not for animals of the human variety — switch on.
“There, all done.” Oliver looked up. Joss still had his eyes clamped closed, and was biting hard on his lower lip.
“If you bite down any harder on your lip I’m going to have to take care of that, too.”
It was meant to be a throwaway line, that was all, light and jokey, to loosen the ropes of tension holding Joss tight. In the background, the washing machine rumbled to a stop, plunging them into silence which was broken only by the sound of Oliver’s laboured breathing.
Joss opened his eyes. The gold-green irises consumed by the dark, glittering black of his pupils.
“Will you?” Joss whispered. “How will you take care of it?”
Oliver’s gaze slipped down to Joss’ lips, red, damp and slightly parted. His heart crashed against his ribcage, and his breath caught in his throat as Joss leaned forward and brushed his lips against his own.
“How will you take care of it, Oliver?” Joss murmured.
Oliver closed his eyes, and melted into the kiss.
Sweet, warm, but laced with heat, as Joss’ mouth relaxed against his.
Jesus, it had been so long, so fucking long…
Oliver deepened the kiss, moving in closer, easing Joss back — or being eased forward. He didn’t know and didn’t care, not when Joss roped his arms around his neck, the fingers of his uninjured hand pushing through his hair.
Oliver jumped, his breath snatched away as Joss’ legs parted and hooked themselves around him. He kissed Joss deeper, gorging like a starving man, his tongue sliding over Joss’, over Joss’ teeth and lips, wanting only to taste and savour every part of him. And Joss pulled him closer, his breathless, desperate sounds a perfect match for his own.
“Oh, Jesus,” Oliver rasped, when Joss rolled his hips up into him, his dick solid against Oliver’s own rock hard shaft.
No, don’t go down this path… Not again… Step back, don’t let yourself…
The words rose up from some dark place, as reason tried to fight its way through the heavy fog of desire, but the words, the warning, already weak, crumbled to nothing as Joss’ hand slid down and cupped Oliver’s swollen dick.
Oliver’s knees quivered, and his legs almost buckled as Joss squeezed and caressed, at the same time Joss plundered his mouth. Oliver kissed him back with a fervour he’d forgotten he’d once possessed. Joss tugged at Oliver’s belt, fumbling with just the one hand to unbuckle, but Oliver batted his hand aside as he wrenched his belt open, and grabbed the zip to—
