Devil's Kiss (Sunset Cove #2) (15 page)

Jordan was so close that the scent of his cologne mixing with his sweat was intoxicating, and it was everything Derek could do not to uncross his arms and grab a hold of the guy. Apparently his reaction was not lost on August.
 

“No doubt, J. You might want to stop pawing the guy, though. He looks about ready to combust.”

Jordan laughed as though that were the most absurd notion on the planet, but when he turned back to face Derek, his laughter ceased.
 

Yeah, pretty sure “combustible” is an accurate description of how I’m feeling.

Realizing that he’d crossed the invisible barrier they’d carefully erected, Jordan cautiously backed away, but it was too late. Derek couldn’t tear his eyes from the man who had always been very careful not to flirt, touch, or give any impression he was interested. But the heat in Jordan’s cheeks and the alcohol that had loosened his inhibitions were showing Derek what was behind Jordan’s carefully manufactured facade.

“I’m August,” the guy standing beside Jordan said as he held his hand out in Derek’s direction.
 

Derek tore his eyes from Jordan’s then and took a hold of the guy’s hand. “Derek.”

August shook his hand and then gave a knowing smirk. “Sorry if we woke you. J’s had a few too many—”

“
Hello
. J’s right here, and quite sober, thank you very much.”

August poked his tongue into his cheek as he dropped Derek’s hand and nodded. “Sure you are, J.”

“I am.”

August slipped his hands into his pockets and asked Derek, “Has he ever stroked your tattoos like he wanted to lick them before?”

Oh, Jesus.
Like he needed that visual. “No.”

August turned back to face Jordan then. “Exactly. You, my friend, need water and an aspirin, then bed.”

Jordan waved his hand in an
I don’t think so
way, and when August made a grab for him, he dodged and giggled and had Derek smiling right along with him. Who knew Devaney was so damn cute when he was plastered?
 

Jordan spun on his toes and strutted over to the ridiculously expensive sound system, where he took the remote in one hand and aimed it at the entertainment center like he was pointing a Taser at a target—then he pressed a button.
 

As a familiar beat filled the room, August, who was still standing beside Derek, sighed. Derek tried to place the song, but as soon as the lyrics started, his mouth fell the fuck open.

“Britney Spears? Is he fucking kidding?”

August looked at him and shrugged. “He’s drunk, is what he is.”

Derek looked back toward the living room, and sure enough Jordan was swinging his hips and shaking his ass to an anthem about some guy being toxic. It also appeared he knew every single word as he turned to face them and crooked a finger.

“Oh, fuck no,” Derek said.

August chuckled and patted his arm as he walked toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna get a bottle of water for me and him. Think you can handle him for a few minutes on your own, He-Man?”

Derek narrowed his eyes on Jordan’s friend and nodded. “I think I can manage.”

As he walked toward Jordan, Derek heard August warn, “Be careful. He’s a handful when he gets like this.”

Before Derek could ask what that meant, August was heading for the kitchen and Derek was left in the living room with Jordan, who had his eyes shut and his head tipped back as he waved his hands above his head.

Fuck, the guy was all sex in that moment.

Tight ripped jeans, tight navy blue tank, and lips Derek wanted over every damn inch of him. When he was close enough that he could smell Jordan’s cologne again, he saw him open his twinkling brown eyes and aim a teasing smile up at him. Clasping his hands overhead, Jordan gyrated his hips to the wicked beat of the music. As he came closer toward him, Derek shook his head and leaned down to say in his ear, “Britney Spears?”

Jordan turned his head, and when he replied, “Don’t you dare make fun of my Brit Brit,” Derek felt the warm breath on his cheek and straightened up to go take a seat on the couch. But as he stepped away, Jordan reached for one of his hands and wrapped it around his waist. In an instant their bodies were flush and Jordan waggled his brows at him.
 

“Come on, He-Man. I know you can dance.”

“He-Man?”

“Mhmm,” he said as he writhed against him, and Derek had to take a hold of his squirming hips or he’d be really fucking embarrassed in the next few seconds. “Yeah, just like that,” Jordan said, and before Derek knew it was happening, Jordan’s arms were around his neck and he was grinding against him like the two of them were naked.

Christ, how was he supposed to do this and keep shit as it always was between them? Jordan wasn’t playing fair, and the alcohol was unleashing…well, who the fuck knew what it was unleashing. Then Jordan sighed and said, “More,” and there was no stopping Derek from slipping his hands from the guy’s hips to his ass and yanking him in so they were aligned from head to fucking toe.

* * *

JORDAN’S HEAD WAS spinning and his cock was pounding in delicious time to the music pulsating through his living room. He felt unbelievable, and so did the thick arms surrounding his waist and the hands molding his ass to pull him in close to a rock-solid body.

Derek…damn.
The guy was fucking built. And when he’d seen him standing there in nothing but his sweats, Jordan had had an unstoppable need to touch.
 

So, with a little help from the few too many shots he’d had, Jordan had done just that, and judging from the thick length he could feel pressed against him, he knew that Derek had wanted to touch too.

As the song switched to the sensual beat of Brit wanting to be a slave for whoever, Jordan tipped his face up and looked into Derek’s eyes, and what he saw there almost had his knees buckling.
 

Intense desire fueled the scorching expression aimed his way. Jordan licked his lips in response, and Derek dipped his knees and dragged his body up in a way that made a strangled groan leave Jordan.

Shit, that felt…
He did it again, and Jordan’s eyes shut. He brought one of his hands around the front of Derek’s sweats and trailed his fingers under the elastic. Derek’s skin was warm to the touch, and Jordan hummed as he slipped his hand beneath the fabric and between their bodies.

Derek growled and Jordan closed his eyes, reveling in the moment he’d wanted for so long. He was finally—
yes…right there—
touching Derek. He had his hand wrapped around a thick cock that had slicked his palm with the pre-cum leaking from its tip, and when Jordan opened his eyes, he saw Derek’s teeth clenched as he rocked into his fist, seeking more friction on his engorged length.
 

Again
, he thought, hoping Derek would thrust forward and grind his cock against him, but instead, he lowered his head and the sharp scrape of teeth on Jordan’s jaw shot a bolt of desire straight to his dick.

“You need to come with a fucking warning label,” Derek said, nipping his ear. Then he raised his head and pulled Jordan’s hand away. “You had very specific terms when I moved in, and until I graduate I’m sticking to them. Now, I have a test tomorrow morning and it’s gonna be hard as hell to sleep. So do me a favor—don’t keep me up by fucking your boyfriend with the cock I just primed, okay? If anything, think about me lying in there getting off on the thought of you fucking
my
brains out with it.”

Jordan’s breath caught, and Derek raised a brow as if to say,
Problem?
When Jordan didn’t say a word, Derek nodded and slowly backed away, keeping their eyes locked. When he got to the hall he smirked, and Jordan couldn’t help but reach down and press his hand over his cock as he bit his bottom lip.

“Yeah, just my luck,” Derek said. “You probably won’t even remember this tomorrow. Night, Devaney.”

And before he vanished, Jordan whispered, “Night, He-Man.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Third Year of College

DEREK STOOD OUTSIDE the law building with a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other. He’d texted Finn a couple of nights ago and asked if he wanted to meet up for lunch, since he wasn’t due at the gym for his shift until later tonight. It’d been a couple of weeks since the two of them had caught up, and as Derek stood there with his back against the bricks and his foot propped on the wall, he wondered when the two of them had started to drift apart.

When they’d first started college they’d been in a couple of classes together, but soon after that first semester, when they’d branched off to do their respective courses, they’d found less and less time to hang out—unless you counted their morning runs.

Finn had started to spend every spare minute he could with his professor, and Derek…well, he’d been dealing with his own shit. Eventually the runs had stopped, and the only time they really saw one another was at Boyz, and then they were working so they rarely had time to sit down and talk.

Derek knew he’d been slack, and honestly, if he really examined the details of their slow disconnect, he would realize it had a lot to do with him not wanting to lie to the guy. Someone he’d been friends with since he was a boy, and who’d likely feel responsible for him should Derek tell him what he’d been going through.

And maybe that was the problem.
 

Finn had seen Derek at his absolute worst, and when he’d had an excuse to forget about that and distance himself, Derek had allowed it to happen. What a horrible fucking friend he turned out to be.

“Hey, stranger.”

He would recognize that voice anywhere, and when he turned to see Finn pushing through the double doors of the building, Derek realized just how much he’d missed the guy.

“Danny boy,” he said, and when they met up they hugged one another. When he took a step away, he grinned. “You’re looking good, man.”

“You too,” Finn said as they headed down the stairs. “Except for that damn cigarette.”

“Yeah, yeah. That ain’t gonna change anytime soon, so best get over it now.”

Finn laughed as they walked across the lawn toward the parking lot. “I know, but I have to at least try. You still running?”

“Of course,” Derek said, and then bumped shoulders with his buddy and asked, “You? Has the professor gotten you running alongside him yet? Or do you get your workouts in other ways?”

“You’re hilarious.”

“What? I remember how hard it was to get your lazy ass out there. The only reason you ever did say yes was to run into Hayes.”

“True,” Finn said. “But there’s something totally different about running with him than there was with you.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

Finn waggled his eyebrows mischievously. “I have incentive to get home.”

“Oh God, spare me the details, would ya? I mean, what are you two now, married and shacked up?”

Finn took a deep breath and then let it out. “I wish.”

“No shit?”

Finn shrugged. “Hey, when you know you know, right?”

“I guess.”

When they reached the parking lot, Derek spotted Finn’s mother’s car and headed toward it.
 

“Yeah. He’s a little harder to convince, though.” Finn popped the locks, and when they both climbed in Derek looked over at his friend.

“Why do you say that?”

Finn reversed, and as they pulled out onto the main road, Derek asked, “What’s going on, Danny boy?”

“Ugh. It’s just something stupid, I’m sure.”

“What do you mean?”

Finn opened the center console and fished out a crumpled brochure and passed it to Derek. He read over the print, and the fact that it was a law school wasn’t anything shocking. He’d known that was what Finn wanted to do. But what caught his attention and held it was— “This is in Chicago.”

“I know.”

The sober tone of Finn’s voice made Derek shift in his seat to face him, and as he took in Finn’s stubbled jaw, he frowned. He wasn’t sure why the thought of Finn moving across the country was so fucking terrifying, considering they hadn’t been real close this past year or so, but it was.

“You’re not
going,
are you?”

Finn took his eyes off the road to look at Derek, and the side of his mouth quirked up. “Hell no. I told him to forget it.”

“So Hayes brought this up with you?”

“Yeah,” Finn said, and looked back at where he was going. “Told me it was the best opportunity. A smart choice and all that. Blah blah.”

“Yeah. Fuck that. Your family’s here.”

“I know. See, you get it.”

Derek turned back to look out the windshield of the car and had a sudden dislike for Finn’s professor. Why the hell would he tell Finn to leave? Or even suggest it. His life was here.
 

Crumpling the pamphlet in his hand, Derek glared out the window and wondered if Devaney knew what Hayes was up to. He’d have to ask him when he got home.

Finn pulled the car into the local burger shop and parked, and once they were inside with their meals, they sat down in a booth at the back of the restaurant.

“So what about you?” Finn asked. “It feels like forever since we hung out.”

Derek squeezed a liberal amount of ketchup on his tray and dunked a couple of fries in it before shoveling them in his mouth. As he chewed around them, he considered what he should tell Finn.
 

He knew Devaney would have an absolute shit fit if anyone found out he was staying at his place, even Brantley Hayes. And really, he didn’t want to go into details. So he just nodded and reached for his soda. “Good, good. Nothing unusual happening over here.”
 

Finn picked up his burger and took a bite, then around his mouthful he said, “A wealth of information.”

“Always,” Derek agreed, and popped another fry in his mouth.

Finn put his burger down and sat back, then he asked, “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Derek’s stomach dropped at the question, but he schooled his features to appear unaffected. “Nope. I’d never call you stupid. At least not to your face. Why do you ask?”