#Junkie (GearShark #1)(59)

“That night in my room, when you were drunk… The things you whispered? They affected me, like on a level I never really understood. Or tried to. It scares me so bad, T.”

“I know, man.” I scrubbed my free hand over my face.

“I sound like a damn * saying it. But it’s true. I’ve been scared a lot lately.”

I didn’t want that for him. I wanted him to be secure. Happy. Whole.

He turned and looked at me. I searched his blue eyes, hoping to find the words that might make any of this easier. “The only time I wasn’t scared was when you just kissed me.”

Guess I didn’t need any words, because he already had them.

We were incredibly close. Barely inches from each other. His eyes were so sincere, so open in that moment it caused my heart to turn over. I untangled our hands and laid my palm against the side of his face, cupping his cheek.

“I wasn’t either,” I confided.

This time, he kissed me.

My heart sang like all those Disney movies I always thought were dumb. But shit if it didn’t feel awesome.

My fingertips rubbed against the stubble on his cheek, and he pulled my bottom lip between his. He sucked and licked at it until my fingers crawled around the back of his neck and delved into the short strands at the base of his scalp.

He released my lip and groaned, covering my mouth completely. I opened, welcoming his tongue into me and teasing him with my own. He pressed in closer, kissing me deep. So deep I groaned and clutched at the back of his head like I was afraid he might disappear.

It wasn’t enough.

My feet dropped off the coffee table and onto the floor, bringing my knees up to a ninety-degree angle. He moved with me, knowing exactly what I wanted, because he wanted it, too.

Thank God, he wanted it, too.

Drew climbed over my lap, straddling my legs. His powerful thighs rested on either side of me, and I covered them with my palms to revel in how strong he felt.

The weight of him on me was delicious; I accepted it all. I would accept anything Drew wanted to give me. I longed to dive my hands beneath his shirt and drag my fingers across the muscles of his back.

All the times I looked at him, at the contours of his waist, the length of his spine, and the way his muscles moved beneath his skin… the times I had to pretend not to notice how much he affected me and how badly I wanted to explore his body in ways I shouldn’t want to—I was getting that chance now.

His lips were perfection personified. They were full and warm. They matched up with mine in a way no woman’s ever had. I loved the way he practically attacked my mouth. He wasn’t tentative or girly at all. He was all man, and he kissed with aggression and tenacity only a man would know.

And dear God, the scruff on his jaw… it was my kryptonite. My heroin. The freaking best thing I ever tasted.

Ever.

With a groan, I ripped my mouth free and grabbed his chin with my hand. I wasn’t too gentle when I held his face and tipped his head back so I could scrape my teeth over that scruff and then kiss down his neck.

Drew made a sound and his hips rolled and thrust forward.

My head fell back on the couch, and I shuddered. My teeth sank into my lip, as I fought to keep the moan of torture inside.

I slapped a hand over my eyes, trying to give myself a little privacy to pull my shit together. God, I was f*cking embarrassed. I was a grown-ass man acting like a f*cking kid who didn’t know how to contain his hormones.

“Trent?” Drew stilled in my lap.

Beneath my hands, I squeezed my eyes shut.

“I… uh.” His voice was awkward. “Sorry, I kinda got carried away.” He started to slide off me.

I made a sound and grabbed his hips, holding him where he was.

“No.” The word came out as a guttural sound. “Don’t move.” Without thought, I thrust my hips up toward him as another shudder rolled through me.

Drew’s eyes widened.

Then the f*cker started laughing. “You gonna blow, T?”

“I will punch you right in the face,” I growled.

He grinned, and dear God, his dimple came out to play. “So other people can’t deck me, but you can?”

Was he teasing me? Was the man I loved really sitting in my lap, torturing my dick, and teasing me?

Goddamn. I was a lucky bastard tonight.

“There’s no way in hell I’d have let Max touch you tonight.”

“Don’t say his name,” he intoned.

“You’re possessive,” I observed, feeling my lips tilt up.

“You’re protective,” he replied, giving me the same look.

I took care of what was mine. Period.

Drew might not actually be mine, but my heart didn’t operate on technicalities.

Drew’s hand dropped onto my abs, and I sucked in a breath.

“I need to get up,” I said, palming the sides of his waist, prepared to lift him off.

Amusement sparkled in his eyes.

“Shut up,” I grumbled.

“You been hard all night?” he asked, glancing at the blanket still over my lap.

I was so f*cking hard even the blanket wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. “Pretty much,” I admitted.

His face became a little unsure, and I felt bad. Kissing and emotion was hard enough to deal with, but having my dick literally popping up between us only made things more awkward.