Melting Point by Kate Meader

did.
    Moving along. Brady cleared the lump of idiocy from his throat. “So what’s for dessert? You covered with whipped cream, I assume.”
    â€œMust be an age since you’ve been seduced. Whipped cream is sooo passé. These days all the best seductions use crème anglaise.”
    â€œExcuse my ignorance.”
    Gage stood, pulled off the apron, and held out his hand. “Good guess, though, because you’re looking at dessert. Only you can have it any way you want.”
    Glory be. Brady took a moment to send up a prayer in gratitude as he reached for Gage, and all he could think was: my hot boyfriend is holding my hand.
    Gage had done a hell of a lot more salacious things to Brady, but right now, this was the thing that was making Brady’s heart beat so hard it might leap out of his chest. That it was Gage, the man who made him feel like anything was possible—well, nothing had ever felt this right.
    Gage led him down the hallway toward the bedroom. As they reached the entryway, Brady’s eyes popped out on stalks—holy shit. The bedroom was lit by a fuckton of candles.
    â€œWhen did you do this?” Code for: How long have we been sitting here with the risk of the loft going up in an incendiary ball of flame around our ears?
    Gage gave that cheeky, irrepressible grin. “I lit them while you were calling your check-in to Javier, Mr. Control Freak. Don’t worry, fire is my business. And it’s not as if you have any soft furnishings here that could catch fire.”
    For true, it was a bit Spartan. But he didn’t have much time to dwell on the disaster that hadn’t happened because Gage was undoing his sling and pulling at his shirt.
    â€œI think it’s about time you fucked me properly, Brady.”

chapter nine

    B RADY’S EYES TURNED MOLTEN with hunger upon hearing Gage’s offer, and Gage stepped forward and took advantage with a kiss, slow, wet, and deep. Brady let out an encouraging moan as Gage swept his tongue with possessive strokes in the heaven of Brady’s mouth. He tasted so good, all man. His man.
    Sex for Gage had always been about the present. Who he wanted to get off with now, who could hold his interest long enough to earn a repeat performance. He had enough self-awareness to admit he used sex to soften the occasional bouts of pain and sadness in his life. It felt good, and for a while after, so did he.
    But since meeting Brady, Gage had not looked at one other guy with any intimate intent (flirting with Eli Cooper did not count). He could fool himself into thinking that Brady’s resistance had made the chase sweeter and the orgasms a worthy reward. But that wasn’t just it. It might have started as a challenge, then provided a much-needed distraction from the worries over his mom, but now it was this sharp-edged thing that Gage couldn’t imagine recovering from. Intimacy with Brady, while hard-won, was a million times better than his previous bang-and-bolt encounters.
    He wanted to take it deeper.
    They helped each other strip, not speaking, just letting the moment roll them along. Gage coasted his hand over that broad chest, sculpted, tatted, and heaving. He wanted to soothe Brady, get him used to his touch, because what was coming would be the most connected experience they had shared. He brushed fingertips over Brady’s scars, the rough terrain of a thousand hurts.
    Brady sucked in a breath.
    â€œDo you know how sexy you are to me, Brady? How every smile and laugh I win from you feels better than any orgasm you could give me?”
    Brady’s eyes flooded with dark emotion. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re here.”
    â€œBelieve, Brady. I’m not going anywhere.”
    He maneuvered Brady to the bed and lay down beside him. Then he used his lips and hands to worship this hero’s body. He sucked on his nipples, grazed those bumpy battle wounds, gained his trust with every