teeth.
Would he like to be bitten other places? He’d liked it when Ian had bitten his shoulder. Suddenly, Ian wanted to bite Sam’s sharp, bony hip so badly he nearly dropped to his knees. He reached for Sam’s zipper with the hand not occupied with Sam’s lips.
“Why did you kiss me?”
Oh, yeah, talking. Ian redirected his hand to Sam’s hip, resting it there. He let his fingers have some license, splaying them on Sam’s butt cheek and hooking his thumb over his iliac crest. Right there. I wanna bite him right there .
“Ian?” Sam’s voice was losing its breathless quality.
He cleared his throat. “I wanted to kiss you.”
“Why?”
“I want to see you.”
“You’re looking at me.”
“No, I mean I want to see you.”
Sam’s mouth fell open. Then snapped shut. Then fell open again. “ See me?”
“Yeah.” Ian looked into his grayish eyes. Sam had lots of reasons to tell Ian to fuck off, and only one—great sex—to say okay. Ian had an inkling it might take him longer than an hour or two to shrug it off if Sam said no.
“Why?”
“I like you.”
“You barely know me.”
“I like what I know.”
“I’m still not attractive.”
“Yes you are. You’re cute.” Ian winced when he said it. Hell . What guy wanted to be called cute?
Sam, apparently. His cheeks slowly pinked, and his eyes got round. “I’m cute?”
Ian cleared his throat again. “Yeah. Cute.”
Sam laid his hand on Ian’s chest. “Okay.”
Relief flowed through him from Sam’s touch. Ian kissed him one more time, quickly. He had plans; he didn’t want to stay here making out and grinding Sam into the wall all night. Well, he did, but he wanted something else even more. “Come home with me?”
Sam’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Okay,” he said, and Ian couldn’t help but smile at him.
“You need to get some stuff together?” Sam nodded. “You eat anything tonight?” Sam’s eyes got big all over again, and he bit his lip before nodding. Ian watched his teeth gnaw on his flesh.
“You better get moving, then.” He forced himself back before he replaced those teeth with his own. Slowly, Sam pushed himself off the wall, stepping from the square of linoleum to the carpet.
Cute .
The word floated in Sam’s brain while he was throwing things together to go to Ian’s. Picking his way through the piles of clothes, books, and whatever that populated his floor. And his furniture. No wonder Ian wanted to go to his place.
Cute.
Ian thought he was cute . No one had ever called him anything like cute before. Not even Nik, who often told him to stop worrying, he was attractive to a certain type of guy. Sam had always assumed Nik meant the kind of guy who wasn’t attractive to much of anyone, like Marley.
He snuck another glance at Ian, standing near the door with his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans, his black leather jacket spilling over his forearms, watching him. Sam stumbled over something on the floor. He looked down, embarrassed at being a klutz in front of Ian, even if it was kind of Ian’s fault for making him nervous.
Oh . He’d tripped over the single bare patch of floor in his entire apartment.
Sam sighed and wished Ian would stop watching him. There was that tiny little place inside of him that was terrified Ian would see how gawky and unattractive he really was, and say, “You know what? I changed my mind.”
Okay, well, it was actually a biggish part inside of him.
“I think I’ll wait outside.” Sam jumped and whirled to face Ian when he spoke. He looked like he was trying to stifle a smile.
“Okay,” Sam croaked.
After Ian walked out, Sam slumped in relief—until it occurred to him that Ian might be making his getaway. He tiptoe-ran over and put his ear to the door, sucking in a breath when he heard Ian’s footsteps trail off toward the stairs. Dammit, he decided I’m a dork, he is leav —
Sam’s inner monologue shut up when he heard Ian’s feet
Would he like to be bitten other places? He’d liked it when Ian had bitten his shoulder. Suddenly, Ian wanted to bite Sam’s sharp, bony hip so badly he nearly dropped to his knees. He reached for Sam’s zipper with the hand not occupied with Sam’s lips.
“Why did you kiss me?”
Oh, yeah, talking. Ian redirected his hand to Sam’s hip, resting it there. He let his fingers have some license, splaying them on Sam’s butt cheek and hooking his thumb over his iliac crest. Right there. I wanna bite him right there .
“Ian?” Sam’s voice was losing its breathless quality.
He cleared his throat. “I wanted to kiss you.”
“Why?”
“I want to see you.”
“You’re looking at me.”
“No, I mean I want to see you.”
Sam’s mouth fell open. Then snapped shut. Then fell open again. “ See me?”
“Yeah.” Ian looked into his grayish eyes. Sam had lots of reasons to tell Ian to fuck off, and only one—great sex—to say okay. Ian had an inkling it might take him longer than an hour or two to shrug it off if Sam said no.
“Why?”
“I like you.”
“You barely know me.”
“I like what I know.”
“I’m still not attractive.”
“Yes you are. You’re cute.” Ian winced when he said it. Hell . What guy wanted to be called cute?
Sam, apparently. His cheeks slowly pinked, and his eyes got round. “I’m cute?”
Ian cleared his throat again. “Yeah. Cute.”
Sam laid his hand on Ian’s chest. “Okay.”
Relief flowed through him from Sam’s touch. Ian kissed him one more time, quickly. He had plans; he didn’t want to stay here making out and grinding Sam into the wall all night. Well, he did, but he wanted something else even more. “Come home with me?”
Sam’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Okay,” he said, and Ian couldn’t help but smile at him.
“You need to get some stuff together?” Sam nodded. “You eat anything tonight?” Sam’s eyes got big all over again, and he bit his lip before nodding. Ian watched his teeth gnaw on his flesh.
“You better get moving, then.” He forced himself back before he replaced those teeth with his own. Slowly, Sam pushed himself off the wall, stepping from the square of linoleum to the carpet.
Cute .
The word floated in Sam’s brain while he was throwing things together to go to Ian’s. Picking his way through the piles of clothes, books, and whatever that populated his floor. And his furniture. No wonder Ian wanted to go to his place.
Cute.
Ian thought he was cute . No one had ever called him anything like cute before. Not even Nik, who often told him to stop worrying, he was attractive to a certain type of guy. Sam had always assumed Nik meant the kind of guy who wasn’t attractive to much of anyone, like Marley.
He snuck another glance at Ian, standing near the door with his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans, his black leather jacket spilling over his forearms, watching him. Sam stumbled over something on the floor. He looked down, embarrassed at being a klutz in front of Ian, even if it was kind of Ian’s fault for making him nervous.
Oh . He’d tripped over the single bare patch of floor in his entire apartment.
Sam sighed and wished Ian would stop watching him. There was that tiny little place inside of him that was terrified Ian would see how gawky and unattractive he really was, and say, “You know what? I changed my mind.”
Okay, well, it was actually a biggish part inside of him.
“I think I’ll wait outside.” Sam jumped and whirled to face Ian when he spoke. He looked like he was trying to stifle a smile.
“Okay,” Sam croaked.
After Ian walked out, Sam slumped in relief—until it occurred to him that Ian might be making his getaway. He tiptoe-ran over and put his ear to the door, sucking in a breath when he heard Ian’s footsteps trail off toward the stairs. Dammit, he decided I’m a dork, he is leav —
Sam’s inner monologue shut up when he heard Ian’s feet
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