Single Player by Elia Winters Page A

about me, Silas?” Matthew asked, his voice soft and low. “You want to come upstairs to my place?”
    Silas felt his knees go weak at the quiet intensity in Matthew’s voice. He nodded. “Yeah.”
    Matthew smiled. Silas had seen many smiles on Matthew’s face—smiles of mirth, happiness, and mischief—but this devilish, wicked smile was turning out to be his favorite. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He hesitated, as if deciding whether or not to act, but then stepped in closer and lowered his lips almost to Silas’s. Then paused. Silas’s heart beat a tattoo against his ribs, his lips already parted, mouth damp and waiting and needy. Matthew’s eyes were open, boring into his with an intensity that bordered on the uncomfortable, lips so close that only a breath separated them. Silas wanted to pull him in, wanted to devour and be devoured, but he remained frozen as Matthew closed the distance. Their lips brushed with only a delicate, featherlight touch, and then Matthew stepped away and left Silas reeling for balance and desperate for more.
    Matthew’s look spoke of what was to come. He jerked his head toward the elevator. “Come upstairs.”

Matthew slid a key card into the elevator slot, entered his floor number, and they began to glide effortlessly upward. The ride was interminable. Silas’s body felt alive and charged with electricity and they’d barely even touched. Once the elevator stopped on the thirty-seventh floor, he followed Matthew out into the hallway, feeling drunk and dizzy and wanting.
    Matthew’s apartment was one of those new-wave urban loft setups. Silas had a minute to scan it when Matthew turned the lights on. He looked without really seeing, his attention much more on his body’s needs than on the chic apartment setup right now. Matthew didn’t give him much time to look around before he stepped into Silas’s personal space and used one of the belt loops on the front of Silas’s pants to tug him closer.
    Matthew ran his free hand down Silas’s side, and Silas could feel the warmth even through his clothing. Matthew’s other hand still had a firm anchor on that belt loop. “I take it you don’t do this often.”
    Silas hesitated. “What makes you say that?” He hoped he didn’t give off the air of inexperience.
    Matthew took hold of Silas’s hips with both hands, sliding his palms up under the waistband of his shirt. The contact of Matthew’s warm palms on Silas’s bare lower back made him shiver. “You have a pretty busy schedule. Seems like you’d have trouble making time for something as silly as sex.”
    This encounter felt anything but silly to Silas, who was increasingly distracted by the contact of Matthew’s hands against his skin. “I am pretty busy,” he managed to say. He reached up to Matthew’s arms, pausing before running his hands up the other man’s forearms to his biceps. Head swimming, he held on for balance.
    Matthew bent his head and caught Silas’s earlobe in his teeth, making Silas shiver all the way down. He moved from holding Silas’s hips to wrapping his arms around him, one hand pressing between his shoulder blades as he mouthed down Silas’s jawline. They hadn’t even kissed yet, and Silas was out of breath, tipping his head back to give Matthew more access. This was all the same intensity of last week without the urgency. So much for blaming their chemistry on the danger of getting caught.
    Matthew pulled his mouth away to look Silas directly in the eyes. “You know what I want to do to you?” He brushed their lips together, barely a kiss. “I want to bring you into the other room”—another brushing kiss—“and take you apart.” Matthew kissed him again, and this kiss lingered, openmouthed but light, a promise of more. “I’ve wanted to take you