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I don’t say anything, waiting for him to be the one to break the silence stretching between us. I use the time to study his features. His blue eyes that swirl with so much depth, the beard that he keeps trimmed expertly close around a strong jaw. His lips are slightly puffy, pale pink and perfect to wrap around my cock.

“You’re not gonna deny it then?”

“Why deny what you’ve already made your mind up to believe?”

As much as it pains me to let you believe I’m capable of hurting another person. But I can’t have you, so this makes it easier.

“Because I want to hear your filthy mouth say it,” he snaps. “You knew who I was when you hooked up with me, took advantage of the heat of a situation, just so you could get a story. Are you even into dick or just that pathetically committed to your job?”

That last part stings, and I know my eyes flash with agitation before my mask falls back into place. I grab my cock with my hand and give it a vulgar jerk through my slacks, the outline of how thick and hard I am obnoxiously obvious.

“What about this makes you think I’m not into men?”

“Maybe it has nothing to do with pussy or dick and everything to do with being a sadist?”

An image of Carter splayed out on my bed naked, wrists and ankles bound, begging me to let him come after hours of edging appears in my head and I contemplate the idea with a smirk, my head cocking to the side.

“Gotta say, my imagination is doing delicious things right now.” I take a single step forward, my shoe stepping between his, our knees nearly touching. My leg can feel the warmth emanating from his body and my cock throbs at a relentless beat.

“The fuck do you want with me?”

A sardonic laugh bubbles free from my throat because how do I even answer that?I want to know everything about you. I want to know what you taste like, what you look like when you’re sleeping and most relaxed and vulnerable. I want to know your favorite movie, song, and how you take your coffee. I want to tell you that you’re the first person to quiet all the bullshit constantly filling my head and my evil asshole daddy dearest has threatened my life if I so much as look at you, little own touch you or make you mine, when every cell in my body is telling me to do just that.

You’ll never amount to anything, Griffin.

You’re such a fucking disappointment, Griffin.

It’s bad enough that my only son is gay, the least you could do is not fuck up another thing.

You’re an embarrassment, I’m ashamed you’re my son.

“I fucking own you, Griffin. You’re a Nash. Which means you are mine. Fall in line, or I will destroyyou.”

I roll my neck from side to side, the sick reminder that I can’t do anything right in my father’s eyes causing a familiar pain behind my eyes. I want to quiet the voices. I need to. So, I press.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I finally answer, pressing my hips against his, my eyebrows raising at what I discover. “For someone who says he doesn’t want me, you aresogoddamn hard.”

A sexy growl works its way up Carter’s throat, a sound that makes my dick buck against the zipper of my slacks. The tension is a live wire between us, palpable, and making us both nearly pant at the close proximity.

He wants me just as much as I want him.

I roll my hips against his, watching his reaction. His breathing hitches, every rise of his chest rubbing against mine, his nipples hard peaks under the tight, thin fabric of his shirt. Fuck, I wish there wasn’t any material between us. I want to feel his hard abs, his perfect chest. My fingers ache to drag my nails over the fine expanse of his sexy body.

“Lover, you can deny this all you want, but you feel it just as much as I do.”

“I’m not your fucking lover.”

He says the words, but they don’t pack a punch. His eyes devour me, and he can’t hide his arousal. He wants this, he’s just too caught up in the other bullshit to make the move. The corner of my lips lifts on one side, challenging him.

“Fine. I’ll make it easy on you, Carter.”

“By walking out and never coming back?”

“I’ll dare you.”

His eyes flash at the challenge, and I wonder if he’ll take me up on it. I don’t even know what I’m pushing for him to do. Hell, we can stand here and grind our cocks together through the thin layer of our pants until we’re both panting and filling our boxers with cum for all I care. Just as long as he gives me a piece of him. Just as long as my brain stays quiet. He’s thefirst person to settle all the messed up shit in my head. Being with him is all I want right now, it doesn’t matter that he falsely believes I could do anything to hurt him . . . or anyone, for that matter.

“You want it?” he asks, surprising me.