Page 42 of Animal Instincts
Oliver sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic, erratic thump in his chest.
“Oliver?” Joss laid his palm on Oliver’s chest. “Wow, your heart’s going wild. Am I that scary?”
Oliver tried to answer, but no words came from his dust-dry throat.
“You’ve changed your mind.”
Joss’ hand fell away, taking the warmth with it, as he stepped back.
“I understand, honestly I do. We work together, so perhaps it’s not the brightest idea to… I’ll let myself out. I’ll see you on Monday — if you want me to come back, that is?”
The doubt in Joss’ voice and the disappointed, downwards cast of his mouth, was a knife tearing into Oliver’s heart. How could Joss think he didn’t want him working with him anymore? But how could Joss not think that, when he’d fallen silent.
“Of course I want you back. Oh, come here.”
Oliver grabbed Joss’ hand, making the move before his nerves and fear could take hold again, and pulled him down to sit on the bed. He took a deep, short breath. If he thought, if he pondered, if he sorted the words in his head, he’d say nothing again, and Josswouldleave.
“It’s been a while — months — since I even wanted to be with anybody. I even thought, in my darkest moments, I’d never want anybody again. But I was wrong, because I do. I want you.”
Moonlight streamed in through the windows, flooding the bedroom with its cool, clean light. It was bright enough for Oliver to see the questions glittering in Joss’ eyes. Questions Oliver was unsure whether or not he was ready to answer.
“Something made you leave London. Or somebody. I’m not asking you to tell me, but whoever he was and whatever he did, I’m not him.”
Joss’ words knocked Oliver’s breath away, and his heart clenched and spasmed.
“You’re nothing like him. Nothing. And thank god for that.” Oliver forced the words out, his voice rough and rasping. “God, I’m sorry. I’ve really screwed up, haven’t I? If you decide this is a bad idea, I’ll—”
Joss stopped him with a kiss.
Oliver’s eyes fluttered closed. All the tension drained away, the answer and reassurance he craved in the softest, gentlest kiss he’d ever been given. No heat, no greedy need, it was a kiss of compassion and understanding.
“Bad idea?” Joss breathed against Oliver’s lips. “This is the best idea I’ve had in a long, long time, and it’s going to get a lot better.”
Joss moved closer, easing Oliver onto his back, crushing their lips together in the kiss Oliver needed so damn much. Joss straddled him, not pinning him down, not constricting him, but keeping him steady.
Keeping him—
Anchored.
The word exploded in Oliver’s heart. Anchored, after being adrift for so long.
Oliver curled his arms around Joss and pulled him in tight as he moaned into the kiss, deepening the connection as desire and the need for so much more flooded through him, heating his blood.
They broke the kiss, both of them panting, breathing fast, shallow breaths. Moonlight fell across Joss’ face, illuminating his wet, swollen, kiss-bruised lips. Without a word, Joss began to unbutton his shirt, all the time keeping his gaze fixed on Oliver.
The breath caught in Oliver’s throat as Joss’ shirt dropped to the floor. Oliver swallowed hard as his gaze trailed over Joss’ lean body. The moonlight found the light scattering of hair on Joss’ chest and the pink nub of his nipples. Oliver’s mouth watered; he wanted to taste them, he wanted to taste all of Joss.
“Well, this is a bit unfair, don’t you think? Here’s me, half naked, and you…” Joss grinned as he bent forward and made short work of unbuttoning Oliver’s shirt and stripping it from him.
Joss rested his hands on the buckle of Oliver’s belt, and raised his brows. Oliver answered with a cant of his hips, and groaned as Joss unbuckled and unzipped him, undoing him, stripping him bare, leaving him naked and exposed.
Joss wriggled out of the rest of his clothes, and Oliver sighed as Joss’ cock pressed against his own. The sigh turned to a desperate, needy groan as Joss spat into his palm and wrapped it around both of their shafts.
“Oh, god,” Oliver ground out as Joss began a slow slide of his tunnelled fist. Oliver’s cock, dripping pre-cum, ached with need.
The slow, rhythmic up-down slide of Joss’ palm fired off every nerve ending in Oliver’s body. Electricity sparked his sweat-glossed skin as Joss picked up speed, his fisted hand pressing their cocks together, riding their foreskins up and over the dark, engorged heads. Oliver canted his hips up, seeking more.
“Easy, easy, easy.” Joss’ voice came as though from far away. “Just easy tonight. Let me take care of you.”
