Page 48 of Unlocked Dive

“I’m pretty sure.”

“I bet I have better gaydar than you.” That makes him laugh, but he still sounds defeated. Unrequited longing’s a bitch. Thank fucking god I’m past that phase.Actually… “You know how I finally got Byrd to make a move?”

He raises his eyebrows. “How?”

“Flirting with you.”Well, and having an epic emotional meltdown, but I don’t share that part. Now he laughs for real.

“Too bad there’s no one here for me to flirt with.”

“That’s notentirelytrue. Is he watching us right now?”

His eyes flick over my shoulder.

“Yes.” Surprise coats his voice.

I glance at Byrd laughing with Hals while Shilo tries to coax Milla onstage. He’s not looking my way, but I know he’s aware of me, the way I’m always aware of him.

I am going to be in so much trouble.A shiver runs through me at the thought.

“Okay, I’m gonna kiss you now.” I start to reach for Josha, pausing at his wide-eyed expression. “You have kissed a guy before, right? I don’t want to…fuck it up if you want your first to be special or something.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Fuck you. Yes, I’ve kissed a guy before. I’m not a total noob.”

“Sure,” I snicker. Josha has “virgin” written all over him. “He still watching?”

“Yeah…”

Let’s see how straight you really are, Mr. “I like tits and ass.”

Without warning Josha again, I cup the back of his neck and bring his mouth to mine. His lips are soft and tentative, and I brush my tongue across the seam between them until they part with a small rush of breath, before pulling back to find large, liquid brown eyes staring at me.

“Don’t fall in love with me now,” I warn, which makes him snort,thank god. “Did he see?”

“I think so.”

“How does he look?”

Before he can answer, I catch Byrd watching me from the edge of the stage, lethal heat in his eyes.

Yup. Somuch trouble.

When I toss him a wink, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes narrowing.

“I gotta go.” I stand abruptly, adjusting my thickening cock. “Good luck.”

Josha glances from me to Byrd, and his lips twitch. “You too.”

Byrd vaults off the stage and stalks toward me, not even a little unsteady, although I could swear he’s had as much to drink as I have. I should probably meet him halfway, mitigate the damage, but watching him move through the small crowd like a hunting cat has me glued in place. With one last sympathetic look, Josha flees, rocking the iron bench in his haste to escape.

How Byrd can loom over me with only two extra inches of height, I have no idea, but he does, and I practically swoon. He’s close enough to smell the whiskey on his breath and the clean tang of his sweat, and I sway into him, caught in his tether.

He curls his hand around the back of my neck and squeezes, the blunt bite of his nails along my pulse sending it skittering.

“What was that about?” he asks, voice deep and dangerous and oh so fucking hot. I slide my arms around his waist.

“An experiment.”