“Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be with a man? To be with me?”
Croix jerked back, his eyes wide with shock, but what surprised Brayden was the desire in their depths. “I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” Croix opened the door.
“Why not?” Brayden’s alcohol induced haze pushed him to the brink of bravery and right into the well of insanity. The questions and cravings he’d had for his friend for so long rose to the surface.
“You’re drunk,” Croix muttered, shoving him into the car.
“Not so drunk I don’t know what I want,” Brayden admitted for the first time out loud. Later he could blame the alcohol, but right now, in this moment it was surreal. Croix actually looked at him with fire in his eyes, there was lust there, or Brayden was delusional. He closed his eye murmuring, “Not that it will ever happen.”
The door slammed and the other opened followed by another loud bang. He swore he could feel Croix’s warmth across the console seeping into his skin. The scent of leather and Croix’s spicy, musky cologne filled the small space. Could a man die from blue balls? He dug his fingers into his thighs to keep from reaching for Croix.
He’d never considered himself one for torture, but this seemed pretty damn close.
~ Above is an excerpt from, The Closer I Get (Picture Perfect, book 1), a book by Draven St. James and LL Dahlin.
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