Page 182 of Boys Who Hunt

“Because I was terrified!” he yells, tears staining his eyes.

My eyes hover over his face as I mutter, “Of ruining us before we even happened.”

His top lip curls. “But you ignored me.”

“Because I was terrified …” I parrot. “Terrified that it was only a mistake and would never happen again.”

His eyes flicker with shock.

I grab his face with both hands to try to stop us from overthinking all of this. “Kiss me.”

He searches my face for the answers he’s been looking for all this damn time, but I am right here, and I will wait. Forever if I have to.

But within a single second, he’s already smashed his lips onto mine.

Heath

God,the moment those lips touch mine, I lose every bit of self-control I have, and I claim them like no one ever has before. I don’t care anymore what anyone thinks. I’m fucking taking what I want, and what I want is him, right here, right now.

I grip his throat and push him back through the room until his back hits the bar, never taking my lips off his.

He wants me to kiss him? Fine, I’ll fucking devour him and leave nothing left.

With my fingers digging into his neck, I pry open his lips and force my tongue inside, rolling around in his mouth like I goddamn own the place and made it my fucking home.

All this fucking time, he’s been flaunting his love for her in my face, and I’m tired of not having a slice.

So I take and take, kissing him until he nearly passes out, then finally release my grip on his throat to allow him a single breath.

But the moan that follows … God, it riles me up almost as much as listening to her moans.

“You …want this?” I mutter, still hot and heady.

He nods, out of breath.

“Since when? The kiss?”

He shakes his head, and it makes even my breath falter.

“Years,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushing with heat.

“But you were always looking at girls,” I growl, cornering him against the bar. “You like girls, or you like boys, which is it?”

“Both. I just didn’t understand what I felt … until you kissed me,” he says, looking up at me with those puppy-dog eyes that make me want to raw-dog him against this goddamn fucking bar.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought you’d hate me and laugh at me.”

My nostrils flare. “Why the fuck would I?”

“I don’t know … I was confused, and I just thought you weren’t into guys at all.”

“I wasn’t into anyone but you for a long goddamn time,” I growl, inching closer and closer. “And you didn’t even fucking notice when it was right. In. Your. Face.”

He averts his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just thought … I was imagining things. I honest to God thought it’d be better if I didn’t tell anyone what I felt and just did what was expected of me. I didn’t want to get hurt.”

Fuck.