“Mmhmm.” Win licked his fingers. “Guilty as charged. Whatcha gonna do about it?”
“If I could move, I’d show you. But I think I gained ten pounds since this morning—I can barely walk.”
“Poor baby. Does that mean I get to tuck you into my bed tonight and have my wicked way with you?”
Their eyes met across the dancing flames from the fire pit, and Elliot’s belly tightened in response to the rising heat and desire reflected in Win’s eyes.
“Is that what you want?” He licked his lips of sticky sweetness.
“I want you.”
“Then we’re on the same page.”
Win doused the fire, and hand in hand, they crossed the yard to the house. On the rear porch, Win stopped and framed Elliot’s face between his hands.
“I don’t want to lead you on. We’re here to enjoy each other, as long as it lasts, right?”
The faint hope that their fun afternoon would’ve miraculously changed Win’s mind, and that he’d want a relationship, faded. Elliot couldn’t be upset—Win had been nothing but up-front with him, and Elliot could walk away, knowing they’d still be friends.
If he were smart, that was what he’d do. But he’d never been smart about men.
Besides, if he left now, he’d never know what being with Win was like. That afternoon’s taste wasn’t enough. He wanted more, and by “more,” he didn’t mean everything; he didn’t mean love and commitment. If he said no, Win would kiss him good-bye and find someone else, because men like Win weren’t alone for long. Elliot would see him and the next man together, knowing it could’ve been him kissing Win, touching him, and he didn’t want that. This time he would go into it with eyes wide open. No free-falling into love. He wanted this night with Win more than anything. He could do this. He would do it.
“That’s right,” he replied, and the relief on Win’s face hurt more than he’d imagined, but Elliot mustered a smile. “Friends having fun together.”
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