by Peter Styles
“I call it like I see it.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Ah, Luke, I missed us.” I shot him a wink.
His face twisted in a scowl, but his cheeks flushed a very pretty pink. He huffed and looked out the window, stealing the occasional glance at me that he pretended he wasn’t.
Luke reached over and hesitated, squinting his eyes at me in concentration, before flipping the radio station. I raised my eyebrows.
“Getting comfortable, are we?”
“Shut up,” he replied automatically. I rolled my eyes but didn’t turn the station back.
The rush-hour traffic was starting to become stifling. We’d just done a drive-through for lunch, sure that we’d be able to get to LA today, but now it seemed more likely that we’d just shrivel up and die here on the horrible freeway.
I tapped my thumbs on the steering wheel and watched Luke out of the corner of my eye.
He was dressed in a loose green button-down today, untucked after his trip to the bathroom, and the material stretched across his shoulders nicely. It made his green eyes seem even brighter on the very few occasions that he actually looked at me.
His bottom lip was bright red from being worried between his teeth the whole day, and now that I knew how great that lip could feel, it was taking everything in me to not slip my thumb over there to free it from the abuse. Nothing so great should be taking such a beating.
I hadn’t thought about Luke like this before—it had never occurred to me to want anything from him besides the semblance of respect.
He hates you, I reminded myself. What had he called me last night? Arrogant, selfish, something like that.
He hated me. If anything, the kiss had been an angry kiss—not that I’d be totally opposed to hate sex with the guy, but hell. I didn’t want to make this aggressive coworker thing worse than it already was.
The traffic slowed again. We were at a standstill, and I sighed, letting my head fall back on the seat. I let go of the steering wheel and stretched out my hands, the fingers clenching and unclenching.
“This would be easier on you if you let me drive,” Luke said.
I cracked an eye open and gave him my best unimpressed look. He shrugged one shoulder, and I closed my eyes again.
The warm sun beat in through the windshield. My thoughts ran in a circle, asking again and again: why did he kiss me?
Luke let out a strangled sound. I turned to him, frowning.
His eyes were wide, the bright green framed by raised eyebrows and a bright pink face. He had one hand on the car door handle, as if he were going to try and escape down the freeway.
I froze. I had asked, out loud, why he’d kissed me.
Oh, shit.
“Luke—”
“I—”
We both started at the same time and I froze, locking my muscles in place so I wouldn’t bolt into the traffic. It would be ridiculous if we both ran from the car.
Luke’s face scrunched in concentration, as if answering this might kill him. The radio bleated an old rock song that I couldn’t pinpoint. The blush on his cheeks spread, turning his ears and neck a soft pink. He looked trapped, like I’d thrown out a net and caught him.
I felt momentarily guilty before remembering that, first, he'd kissed me, and, second, I hadn’t meant to ask him the question.
Traffic lurched forward.
“Fuck,” I muttered, shaking my head, and slowly let go of the brake. The car rolled.
“I like you.”
I slammed on the brakes hard enough that if we had been accelerating at all, it would have caused whiplash. Instead, it just caused a single horn honking and a string of curse words falling from my own lips.
“Um. Excuse me?”
Part of me could tell that I was laughing—openly laughing at him—but the shock was clouding the part of me that would normally feel bad about that.
Luke glared at me. “I—I’m not joking.”
Traffic stopped and I turned, looking at Luke incredulously. “Wait. You’re—serious?”
“This is why I never said anything—”
“What are you talking about? You hate me.”
“Yes,” Luke confirmed, sighing. He shrugged. “I also like you.”
“Shouldn’t they—I don’t know!”
“Be mutually exclusive?”
“Yes!”
Luke shrugged again. I was going to pull my hair out if he shrugged one more time.
“I knew you’d make a joke out of it.”
“I—I’m not. Trying to, at least.” I stumbled over the words.
My chest felt a little too full, like the rumbling was going to send something over. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel bad, either.
Every interaction I’d had with Luke in the past week—hell, the past year, the past few years—ran through my head, and I tried to understand it with this new information. I was spinning in circles. “I didn’t even know you were into guys.”
Luke quirked an eyebrow; his blush was receding and his smile, soft and a bit tentative, was a new look on him. “The kiss didn’t give it away?”
I blinked. “Um. No?”
Luke rolled his eyes. I felt a little better. His annoyance made sense.
“I—never hated you. Parts of you, sure. Of course. But—I don’t know.”
He glanced down to his lap and I had to lean a little, cocking my head to the side, to hear him all the way. “I never hated you. I hated how I felt about you.”
I hesitated. My throat was closing up, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Luke. Was he serious? Was this a trick?
I let myself think, just for a second, what it would mean for Luke to like me; for me to like him back.
I swallowed hard and opened my mouth.
Luke spoke quickly, before I had the chance to say anything. “We’re never getting there tonight.”
I felt my head spin a little at the sudden change of topic. I looked down at the clock. “We’ve got, like, five hours.”
“Yeah,” he shifted in his seat, settling with his chin nestled in his hand, looking out the window. His ears were back to being bright red.
I took a deep breath and let it go in a rush. “Let’s stop. For the night.”
Luke stiffened, but didn’t say anything.
“It’s too late to deliver the package tonight, even if we get there in five hours, and we’ve been in this car all day.” I kept talking. “Can’t deliver it tonight anyway, so logistically, it doesn’t matter if we stay here or there, right?”
Slowly, Luke sat back up. He had his bottom lip between his teeth. He nodded.
A burst of adrenaline swam through me. I ignored it.
It still took another half hour, but we finally reached the next exit. I pulled the car off the freeway and we found a small motel.
“Quick turn around,” Luke muttered. I rolled my eyes. He scoffed. “For tomorrow! It’s near the exit.”
“We can afford an extra five minutes.”
“Maybe you can—”
“What are we even arguing about?” I interrupted.
His eyebrows furrowed. “I—don’t know.”
“Do you ever?” I asked.
His lips twitched. “Some of the time.”
“Some of the time,” I repeated, laughing.
He smiled. It felt like a victory.
I grabbed the bags while Luke checked us in. He came back out with two keys and dangled them. “One’s got a king, the other a full. Dibs.”
“Dibs on the full? Sure, no problem.” I snatched the keys that he had motioned with when he said king.
His jaw fell and he lunged at me, trying to grab the keys out of my hand. I threw them to my other hand and held them behind my back.
He snuck an arm behind me to try and get them. I backed away, and he kept crowding me until my back hit the car and his hand had curled around my closed fist. Our chests brushed.
I swallowed hard. “Um. Should we get dinner?�
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Luke’s eyes were locked on my lips. They burned. His gaze snapped up to my eyes. “I’m—not hungry.”
I took a deep breath; our chests pushed together. “Drink? In my room?”
“You don’t get the king—”
“I’ve got the keys, man!”
He huffed. Instead of clear annoyance, though, he was grinning. “Fine.”
I’d dropped our bags onto the concrete, and we picked them up. I trailed after Luke to the room and wiggled my eyebrows when I had to dart around him to unlock the door. He rolled his eyes.
This motel was a lot nicer than the one we’d stayed at last night. The walls were a light grey, the bed absolutely gigantic, with a soft green comforter and about a dozen pillows. There was a mounted TV with a dresser underneath it, two nightstands, a little round table with two chairs in the corner, and a door leading off to the bathroom.
I dropped my bag by the bed and groaned as the AC cooled the sweat off of my skin. “God, it feels good in here.”
“I think I hate your car.”
I flopped on the bed and cracked on eye open to glare at him. “Take that back.”
“Nope.” He set his bag down on a chair and toed off his shoes. Crossing over to the other side of the bed, he lay back on it. There was still enough room for two other people to lie between us.
“My car is great.”
Luke hummed. “This bed is better.”
“Where’s my drink?”
“Drinks were your idea,” Luke pointed out.
I frowned and tried to think of a way out of getting up. He laughed, and the bed moved. I heard the sound of his feet pattering on carpet, the mini-fridge opening up, and he came back. “Here. There’s beer.”
I accepted the bottle. It was cold. I cracked it open. “This brand is some bougie shit.”
“Like that’s not your favorite.”
“Whatever.” I kicked off my shoes and scooted so my back was against the bed’s headboard. I took a long pull of the beer. It might have been the best beer I’d ever had. “Don’t say anything.”
Luke lifted one hand in surrender. He took a drink of his beer and I watched the way his throat moved as he swallowed.
I looked away. “So.”
He clicked his tongue. “So.”
Luke had himself halfway propped up, his elbow digging into the bedding. His beer dangled from his hand almost precariously.
“This is…” Luke struggled to find the word.
I smirked. “Awkward.”
He glared at me. “It’s nice.”
Goddamn me, but I felt my smile soften. “Aw, hell. It is.”
Luke stretched out and let his head fall. He held the beer a half a foot above him. I laughed. “You afraid of spilling that?”
“Uh, yes. Of course. This is—” he looked at me, eyes focused—“my bed.”
I tossed my head back, the laughter rumbling from my chest. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: you’re a Scorpio bitch.”
Luke laughed, the sound startling both of us. I grinned. He shook his head at me. “Max, I don’t even know what that means.”
I scooted down the bed, lifting my beer up exaggeratedly high to mock him, and then lay back so we were lying next to each other. I turned to look at him. “I know. That’s what makes it so funny.”
“Do you just look for any opportunity to make fun of me?” Luke turned his head. Our faces were inches from each other now. Our beers still were hovering in the air.
I swallowed hard. I could see the splattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and his forehead. His lips were the oddest color—not quite pink, but not all the way red. I was sure that no other man had lips as pretty.
“Max?”
I blinked. Swallowed again. “Um. Right. Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Making—fun of you. Yes.”
“Oh.”
I licked my lips. Luke’s eyes fell to them immediately.
“Can I—”
“Max, I—”
We both froze.
And then, just as suddenly, we unfroze.
Luke’s lips were on mine—or maybe I was the one to move first, and it was my lips on his. It was desperate, harder, than our first kiss. That had been a shock, the surprise keeping me mostly separate from the kiss. Now, I was hyper-present.
I bit at his lush bottom lip until he opened his mouth, a soft groan coming from his throat, and the intoxicating taste of blueberries and beer spilled onto my tongue.
My chest rumbled; I moved to roll over the top of him. A splash of my beer spilled and we pulled apart from each other quickly, cursing.
“Fuck.” My voice was already wrecked. I blinked down at him.
He smiled up at me, eyes glossy. “We should probably set these down.”
I snatched Luke’s beer from his hands and leaned over him, putting one knee on either side of his hips to reach over the edge of the bed and set the beers on the floor.
From this angle, Luke was spread out beneath me. His hands had flown up and settled on my thighs, very lightly touching me. His lips were parted, and his eyes were wide and locked on mine.
I lowered my head and captured his lips. He kissed me softly, the rolling of his lips a gentle pressure against mine. His bottom lip slid between mine and my tongue grazed it. He moaned, a sound that went straight from his throat into my mouth, and then I crowded him completely.
I braced myself on my right forearm against the bed, my left hand tugging at his short blond hair. Our mouths opened and the kiss deepened, Luke licking his way into my mouth while his fingernails dug into my fleshy thighs.
“Fucking hell,” I groaned, pulling back to inhale greedily. My chest was heaving, my fingers cramping from the tight grip I had on Luke’s hair.
He was breathing just as heavily. Carefully, he maneuvered us so that he was leaning up on his elbows and I was not quite as sprawled on top of him. His eyes raked across me—his gaze was a physical touch. Every place he looked felt like it was on fire, a heat so intense I couldn’t stop myself from closing the space between us to kiss him again.
I bit at his bottom lip once more and he gasped, throwing his head back, his hips twitching up. I cursed and moved to his neck, biting and kissing over the exposed skin. I nipped at his jawline, then licked over it quickly.
His hips moved in steady rotation against mine as I worked on his neck. I tugged at the first few buttons of his shirt until they came undone, and sucked a bright bruise on his collarbone as a reward.
“Oh, god, fuck,” Luke muttered, his body twitching at my ministrations. Grinning, I kissed the red spot gently.
I licked my way down his body, undoing the rest of the buttons of his shirt as I went. Luke’s arms gave away and he fell to the bed flatly. His hands flew to my head, his fingers intertwining in my hair.
He gripped me hard. I felt the sharp pleasure-pain burn, and couldn’t help the low sound falling from my lips, pressing into his skin.
I slid down his body until his shirt was gone and there was barely any bed left. His hips were rotating mindlessly in small circles.
I felt dizzy, needy. I drew away from him, his hands tightening in my hair as he let out a small whine from the back of his throat.
“Luke,” I said.
His eyes flew open. They were dark, his pupils painting his eyes black. He had a soft red blush on the high of his cheekbones, his lips red and swollen. I surged up and kissed him quickly.
He leaned toward me, following me as I pulled away. His hands had fallen limp onto my shoulders, and I cupped the side of his face with one hand.
I dropped my other hand to his lap. He hissed in surprise, head falling back. I could see a few dark bruises on his pale neck, and gently kissed each of them.
“Max,” he murmured.
Heat flashed down my spine. “Can I—”
And, shit, I was usually much more suave than this. I was Max freaking Stephens. I wasn’t some blushing v
irgin on prom night.
Except, Luke kind of was, and that was all sorts of weird and hot and I could barely think straight.
He swallowed hard enough for me to hear it. Our eyes locked and, slowly, I moved my hand that was on his lap, pressing harder down on him.
Luke’s eyes shut and he bit hard on his bottom lip. He was hard against my hand, straining against his pants, and I closed my fingers around the aching bulge.
His hips stuttered, and he let out a low string of curses that went straight to my head.
“Luke.” My voice broke. I tried again. “Can I—”
“Yes,” Luke cut in quickly. “Anything.”
Heat flashed through me, harsh and hot, and I nearly passed out from the intensity of it. I slid down his body until I was off the bed, my knees on the floor, and hands bracing myself on either side of his thighs. He pushed himself up a little to look down at me.
Luke frowned, his face crumpling in confusion. “Max, what are you—”
I grinned up at him and winked. “Don’t worry about it.”
My hands worked quickly, undoing his belt and opening his pant button. He hissed when I gently slid the zipper down, then let out a soft sigh that went straight to my own dick.
I took a steading breath and tugged his pants and boxers down in one go until they pooled around his ankles.
I swallowed hard, Luke gasping at the rush of cold air hitting his hard erection. It stood tall, bobbing against his stomach as he fell back against the bed again. He propped himself up with one hand, the other going back to my hair. My spine tingled when he tugged.
He was big, bigger than I thought, the tip a swollen red with a small decoration of blond curls at his base. It was—hell, it was a very pretty dick.
I kissed it gently.
“Holy shit.” Luke’s eyes squeezed shut. His dick twitched underneath my lips.
I looked up at him, grinning at the sight. He looked absolutely undone already.
Well, Luke had been trying to fuck me since we’d met. Now, at least, we could call it official.
I swallowed him down in one.