Gus poked me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go all morbid on you. I don’t talk about her much.”
“It’s not morbid to say she was nice,” I said absently. “It’s more morbid to pretend she never existed.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. But I don’t think you do that either. Your house is full of French stuff. And so is Luke’s now. His clothes smell like yours.”
“How do you know what his clothes smell like?”
Gus’s fingers were still loosely wedged in my ribcage. It tickled, but in the good way, and taming my reaction to his casual touch took all my brain power. I shrugged. “Dunno.”
He laughed. “You’re strange.”
“Yeah. I need a Supergrass track to cover my biopic.”
“Can’t help you there. My mum only liked folk, and French ballads.”
I already knew that too, so I said nothing. Just lost my fucking mind and used my legs to hook Gus closer. I pulled him between them and wrapped my arms around him, intending to give him a hug, but my best laid plans always went tits up, and I found us nose to nose.
And it was impossible not to kiss him.
Chapter Fifteen
Gus
I wanted Billy in my bed. I wanted the mess of tangled limbs and snatched breaths we’d shared on the living room floor to settle into something that didn’t feel like a dream. Sliding between his legs and slanting my lips to meet his helped. Finding the skin beneath his T-shirt was even better, and for long minutes, we did nothing but kiss. Desire roared to life, but I could control it if I concentrated on my mouth and his, and not the way every other part of my body was straining to join the party.
The thin sweatpants I’d worn to the gym betrayed me, though, and Billy was sitting close enough to the edge of the counter that I could feel his dick too. The sensation was unreal. I gripped his hips and pulled him closer. He made a sound that sent my head freewheeling, and my heart took off at a pace that wasn’t all pleasure. We were going to be naked again in two seconds flat if we weren’t careful, and instinct told me I was doing it for the wrong reasons. Or, at least, that there were other reasons besides the fact that I couldn’t get enough of him. Sex had always been the bandage I wrapped around old, festering wounds. Billy deserved better than that.
He deserved better than me.
I drew back, breaking the kiss with so much reluctance I nearly caved and dived straight back in.
Billy’s lips were puffy, and I ached to trace them with my fingertip. Combined with the dirtier things I wanted to do with him, it was a trip. I wasn’t used to getting fuzzy feelings for men I wanted to bang.
I wasn’t used to fuzzy feelings at all.
Still on the verge of hyperventilating, I let my hands drop. Billy didn’t react. His stare was bottomless and unreadable, and I couldn’t resist leaning in again, letting him know I hadn’t stopped because I didn’t want him. “What state is your bike in?”
“It’s not my bike.”
Of course it wasn’t. But as long as he hadn’t pinched it from anywhere round here, I didn’t much care. “Does it work?”
“Last time I checked, but I was drunk then, so...”
“All right. I get the picture. You wanna go for a ride?”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. It’s a nice day, and I want to go outside with you. We don’t do that much.”
“We work outside every day.”
“That’s not the same.”
“The same as what?”
“As being free.” I grabbed his hand without thinking and tugged him off the kitchen counter. His feet hit the floor, bringing him well within kissing distance again, and I was only human. I swooped in and crushed our lips together, bruising and brief. “Come on. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
Whether he believed me or not, I had no idea, but he let me pull him outside to the garage where both our bikes were stored, and he wheeled his onto the drive without complaint.
I’d forgotten he had a fishing tackle box screwed to the handle bars until he pointed to them. “I’m only coming if you let me stash beers in there.”
I shrugged. “Works for me.”
We loaded his bike with French beers and a jumbo bag of Doritos and set off, heading for Sandgrove Park. I led the way, but once we were off the roads and into the labyrinth of sandy lanes, Billy overtook me and pedalled ahead, gifting me a jaw-dropping view of him from behind. He had long legs, shaped with sinewy muscle that made him look natural on the bike. And his back had been doing weird stuff to me for weeks now. I was torn between wanting to rub soothing circles into his shoulders, and craving the sensation of raking my nails over his pale skin while we rolled around naked together. Yesterday, the second impulse had won out, and I’d replayed him shooting on my chest while I came all up his back so many times I was amazed the last...however many hours it had been since hadn’t completely passed me by.
I’d never come like that, so present and in the moment, and yet so wrapped up in the person who was making me
