Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Dean
“We said after for a reason.” I did my best to keep my tone even.
Wasn’t happening.
“I know what we said.” He took a step toward me, and my shoulders tightened, my pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with awareness of his breathing, his voice…
My heartbeat that wouldn’t stay steady.
“I understand the timing.” His voice sounded strained. “I understand the risk.”
“Do you?”
His eyes locked on mine. “Yes.” No hesitation. He swallowed. “Do you know what the worst part is?”
I waited.
Luka shuddered out a breath. “I spent years convincing myself I could live without this.”
My pulse jumped. “Without what?”
For a moment he simply looked at me.
“You.”
I couldn’t breathe.
He swallowed. “Not specifically you.” A humorless laugh escaped him. “Well, not at first.” His gaze dropped briefly before returning to mine. “But then it became you.”
God.
Luka sucked in another deep breath. “I was fourteen when I realized I was gay. And there was never anywhere to put that. No one I could tell. No place it could exist.”
It was my turn to swallow.
His voice roughened. “Then you arrived.”
My breath caught.
“Luka—”
“You keep asking questions.” His gaze never left mine.
“You keep noticing things. You keep looking at me as though there’s a person underneath all of this.
” He gestured vaguely toward himself. “And I don’t know how to stop wanting that.
” He shivered. “Now you’re standing here.
And I know we said we’d wait. I know why we said it.
” He took another step toward me, this time stopping close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him.
“But I have spent ten years being careful.” He let out a slow breath.
“And right now, I don’t particularly want to be. ”
My pulse went into a higher gear. My mouth went dry. I couldn’t move.
“And as for why I came back? That is your fault.”
I blinked. “What did I do?”
“You kissed me.” His gaze flickered briefly to my mouth, then back to my eyes.
For a second neither of us moved. Then Luka reached for me.
The kiss felt nothing like the first one. Yesterday I’d been the one to close the distance. This time Luka had crossed the room and taken what he wanted.
Me.
His hand was on my cheek, warm and gentle, and then his mouth was on mine, insistent, unrelenting, stripping everything else out in a single second.
I didn’t pause to take a breath.
Luka made a quiet sound against my mouth, not even trying to hide it, and it went straight through me, pulling me further in before I had the chance to think about what that meant.
My tongue found his, and his groan reverberated through me.
I tugged him closer, until his body was pressed against mine, warm and vital.
I paused for a heartbeat, and his hand found my nape.
“Neprestávaj.” Luka’s voice was raw.
I didn’t have a clue what he’d said, but I understood everything else: his tone, his staccato breaths, the way he leaned into me, holding me.
I took a guess. “You just told me not to stop, didn’t you?”
His breathing stuttered, and he nodded. “But maybe we should. Maybe that is wise.” He let go of me, taking a step back, his chest rising and falling, his cheeks even more flushed.
The problem was, he’d gotten me this far, and now I didn’t want to be wise.
Luka
My skin still burned where he had touched me.
I could feel the imprint of Dean’s hands everywhere: along my jaw, at my waist, against the back of my neck where his fingers had tightened when I kissed him harder.
My pulse refused to settle properly, each breath dragging in unevenly while I tried to regain enough composure to think clearly again.
“Do you really want to stop?”
Dean’s voice rolled through me low and rough, and the effect was immediate. Another shiver worked its way down my spine before I could suppress it.
If he kept speaking in that tone, I was going to lose whatever restraint I still possessed.
I looked for something to focus on. I took in my surroundings: his bed, roughly made, the pile of clothing on the chair, the skates.
My gaze caught on the bright wrappers sitting on the desk.
For a second, I didn’t understand why they mattered. Then the meaning landed.
The warmth still lingering beneath my skin evaporated. My stomach tightened.
Why did I assume this would be different?
Dean was attractive. Confident. Open. He lived in a world where this was possible.
He has choices.
And I didn’t know how to be one of them.
I stepped back.
“I shouldn’t have come,” I croaked.
“Luka, what is it?”
I shook my head, unable to release the words. Does this mean as much to you as it does to me? Then I realized I had to give him some kind of answer.
“Nothing.”
His expression sharpened. “It isn’t nothing.”
I looked toward the desk again.
That was all it took.
“Oh.” The sound carried equal parts disbelief and exasperation. “Luka.”
I kept my eyes on the floor.
“That’s what this is about?”
I jerked my head up.
Dean stared at me, his eyes wide. “You saw those, didn’t you?
” He gestured to the desk, then let out a breath that sounded like sheer frustration.
“Jesus…” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, pacing up and down in the limited space as if he needed the movement just to get his thoughts in order.
“One of the guys shoved them at me earlier. Village restock. He thought he was doing me a favor.” His gaze snapped back to mine, steady and intense.
“Is that really what you think? That I’d kiss you like that—” His voice caught on the word, as though even saying it out loud still landed somewhere new “—and then turn around and plan to invite someone else over?”
The question hit me in my gut.
He shook his head. “You’ve got me all wrong.”
I stopped breathing for a second.
“I don’t know what this means yet,” he admitted.
The tightness in my chest eased a little.
“I don’t know what box it fits in.”
Despite the butterflies in my stomach, I forced out a laugh. “Very romantic.”
“Give me a second.” Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair. “This isn’t about me trying to figure out whether I like men.”
I stared at him. “It isn’t?”
“No.” Dean blinked, as though hearing the answer aloud for the first time. “Actually, no.” He stepped closer. “It’s about you.”
For a moment I could only look at him.
“What I do know is that I haven’t spent the last two weeks thinking about every guy I walk past.”
I couldn’t hold back my smile. “I am relieved to hear that.”
“So am I.” His amusement faded, and he held my gaze. “It’s you, Luka.”
For a moment I couldn’t think of anything to say.
He took another step, close enough now that I could feel the heat of him again.
“So no, I’m not trying to make it fit into something I already understand. I’m asking myself something much simpler.”
“What?”
Dean smiled. “Whether I want this.”
I already knew the answer before he spoke again.
“And yeah,” he said in a low voice. “I do.”
My heart hammered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
“This could be a complete disaster.”
Dean blinked. “What?”
I gestured between us. “I have never done this. Not once. And you—” I hesitated, then forced it out anyway, because there was no point pretending otherwise now “—you have never done this with a man.” I paused to take a breath. “So statistically, this is not promising.”
For a second, he just stared at me, and then his mouth twitched. What came out wasn’t a laugh, but close enough.
“That is the least romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“It is accurate.”
“That doesn’t help.” Then he smiled. “I think we’ll figure it out.”
The confidence in his voice caught me off guard.
My gaze flicked, unbidden, back to the desk, to the bright wrappers still sitting there.
Dean followed my line of sight, then huffed out a quiet breath. “Hey.” His hand closed around my arm, steady and grounding, and the contact pulled my attention back to him instantly. “We’re not using those today,” he told me.
I stilled, and he didn’t look away, his thumb shifting against the sleeve of my sweater, a small, deliberate movement that manage to feel like reassurance and control at the same time.
“Just because we’re not waiting anymore,” he went on, his voice lower now, more deliberate, “doesn’t mean we rush this.” My pulse picked up again, and he nodded as though he’d felt it. “We take our time.”
Something in the way he said it—calm, certain, leaving no space for argument—settled into me in a way I hadn’t expected.
“You’re very sure,” I said, my voice quiet.
He smiled. “I’m only sure about one thing. We’re not going to mess this up by trying to do everything at once.” His hand was still on my arm, warm and steady, and I realized I wasn’t pulling away from it. Dean’s gaze didn’t waver. “Okay?”
I held his eyes for a second longer, aware of the way my pulse hadn’t settled.
“Yes.”
I meant it.
Dean
When I kissed him again, I didn’t hurry.
There was no prize for getting somewhere first.
I still remembered my first time. We’d been in such a hurry to get somewhere that we’d barely noticed the journey.
Luka leaned into me almost immediately, and the response sent a rush of warmth through my chest. His hand settled against my shoulder, he closed his eyes, and I stopped worrying about where this was going.
His breathing hitched, and the sound went straight through me. I slid my hand to his jaw again, steadying him, my thumb resting below his cheekbone as if anchoring him there.
I stroked the back of his neck, holding him there, and he made a low sound that sent a pulse of heat spreading through me.
I felt it everywhere.
“Bo?e,” he whispered.
I stilled. “You said that the first time I touched you.”
His eyes met mine, and he shivered. “Yes.”
“So what does it mean?”
He flushed. “Nothing bad. You said it yourself earlier.” When I frowned, he gnawed at his lip. “It translates as Oh my God.”
I grinned. “Wow. I’m good.” I leaned in again, kissing him on the lips before moving to his neck, nuzzling him there, kissing the warm skin below his ear.
His breath caught again. “Kvrat.”
This time I didn’t stop, but moved a little higher, kissing his earlobe. “And what does that mean?”
He tilted his head to one side, allowing me more access, his eyes closed. “I said it once in my mother’s hearing when I was ten years old. She sent me to bed without any supper.” He gave a low moan when I sucked on the skin.
“Tell me,” I demanded, sucking a little harder.
“It is Velkaran for fuck, okay?” His eyes opened. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”
I let out a raw chuckle. “Not really.” His brow furrowed, and I kissed him on the mouth. “I just know what feels good. So I figure… if it works on me, it might work on you.”
Luka stared at me, his lips parted more fully this time, and when our mouths met again, my tongue met his. He made a helpless sound into the kiss and moved closer.
A few minutes ago, he’d been talking about risk and consequences and ten years of being careful.
Now he was kissing me like he’d forgotten all of it.
He pressed himself against me, close enough that I could feel his heart pounding. His fingers slid up my neck into my hair, tugging on it gently while I laid a trail of kisses from his ear to his collarbones.
I couldn’t get enough of his kisses, each one deeper than the one preceding it, our tongues tangling as we fed each other noise after soft noise. On instinct, I grabbed his hip, grinding against him—and froze.
Holy shit.
Luka was hard.
Then it hit me.
He wasn’t the only one.