Our gazes lock and hold. For some reason I’m reminded of a lesson from my eleventh-grade English class, when we studied Shakespeare and the characters talked about humors, and my teacher likened physical chemistry to laser beams shooting out of people’s eyes.

And the whole thing suddenly makes sense. Because every time Queenie and I connect, it’s like there’s energy passing between us, the kind that keeps drawing us together, making it impossible not to give in to it. Which is exactly what I find myself doing. “There’s a reason I can’t stay away from you, even if it would be easier for both of us.” I dip down and press my lips to hers.

“It’s probably my mad blow job skills.”

“That’s just a bonus.” I take advantage of the fact that her mouth is open by stroking inside.

I’m honestly too tired to keep fighting against the pull, so instead of staying inside the lines we’ve drawn for ourselves, I tromp all over them. Like every other time we’ve had our tongues in each other’s mouths, it escalates quickly.

“I really tried to keep it platonic.” I kiss along the side of her neck, finding that sensitive spot behind her ear and grazing it with my teeth.

“I know. We were doing okay for a while. The ax throwing was almost a tipping point for me.” She pulls my shirt free from the back of my pants and runs her warm palm up my back.

“God, I love your hands on me.” I bite her earlobe, then start working my way across the edge of her jaw. “Why was the ax throwing almost a tipping point?”

Queenie angles her head to the side, giving me more access to her neck. “You looking so proper, throwing an ax like it was your job, wound me up. Your hard-on against my spine. All the touching.”

I pull back so I can look at her. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Definitely don’t stop. And if I’m being one hundred percent honest, I’d also love it if your face lips ended up making out with my vagina lips.”

I close my eyes, because seeing her expression and hearing those words does nothing to help my self-control. “Wait. I think we need to figure this out first, before we get carried away.”

Queenie blows out a breath. “Figure what out?”

“What’s happening between us.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious. I was sad; you consoled me. We have chemistry and we’re acting on it.”

“It’s more than that, though.”

Queenie rolls her eyes. “You must really enjoy blue balls, King. Can’t we be spontaneous and hump on each other without all the psychoanalyzing? Let’s get carried away now, and we can talk after.” She drags her nails along my abs.

“I want to date you,” I groan.

This time she’s the one who pulls back. “We’ve already been over this and why that can’t happen right now.”

“I want to take you out for dinner and go to the movies and hang out with you.”

“We already do that, apart from the movies. We throw axes instead.”

“But I don’t get to kiss you good night. Or sleep next to you. I don’t want you to be a secret I have to keep.”

“I guess you’ll need to convince my dad it’s okay for me to date you, then.” She tugs on the back of my neck. “Let’s finish this conversation after we fool around.”

I let her bring our mouths back together, and for a while I get lost in a long, slow kiss. Somehow we end up on the bed, and my shirt gets tossed on the floor. Once the clothes start coming off, things go from hot to frantic, and any thought I had about talking this out disappears.

Just like the time she came to my place, we end up naked, with Queenie straddling my face while she takes me in her mouth. I have no recollection of oral sex ever being this amazing—either the giving or the receiving—but I could literally spend hours in this exact position, or any variation that allows for mutual gratification.

Unfortunately, it starts to become difficult to concentrate after a while because my chest, face, and stomach are getting itchy. I refocus on the feel of her mouth, the vibration of her moans against my erection every time I lick her just the right way, how soft she is on my tongue, and how good she tastes. As distracting as the annoying itch is, I finally warn her I’m going to come soon. She almost knees me in the head as she shifts around.

“Hey, I’m not done with you!” I try to catch her ankle before she can get too far, but all of a sudden I have an excellent view of what she’s doing to me. I groan at the sight of her stretched out between my thighs, fingers wrapped around the base of my erection, lips covering the head, cheeks hollowed out as she sucks. “You are depravedly stunning like this.”

She pops off for a second, tongue circling the ridge, hand moving up and down. “Do you like it when my mouth is full of your cock, Kingston?” Her lips cover the head again and slide back down.

“You have no idea.” I prop myself up on one elbow so I can skim the place where her bottom lip meets the base of my shaft with my thumb, and then along her throat when I feel the head bump the back. I try to remain civilized and respectful, but it’s a challenge when she says things like that and follows it up with deep throating my entire erection. “I want inside all of you like this.”

CHAPTER 11

THAT SEEMS RASH

Queenie

I don’t think Kingston realizes that his constant commentary is an absolute turn-on. And it’s not like he ever says anything really and truly dirty. It’s more that he just keeps talking and offering praise in the form of mostly PG statements.

I hum around his erection, determined to actually take all of him, because listening to him lose it is becoming one of my favorite things. His fingertips drag along the soft, sensitive place under my chin, and he grunts his approval.

“I can’t hold off anymore, Queenie,” he warns.

I press my thumb against the spot under his balls, and his fingers slide into my hair, curling to grip the strands as he finally lets go. His expression reflects both hunger and satisfaction.

I’ve always been a fan of oral: obviously receiving is amazing with someone who knows what they’re doing. But I find that with Kingston I love the giving, maybe because he gets so into it, and he likes to give while he gets. I’ve always assumed it would be too much of a distraction, but I’m finding I don’t mind having to split my focus at all.

When he’s spent, he flops back on the mattress with a sigh. “Your mouth is glorious, Queenie.”

“So is yours.” I stretch out beside him. His hair is an absolute mess from my hands having been in it while we were kissing, his face is flushed, and he’s breathing heavily. “You wanna check to see if you have condoms in your room before you get hard again?”

He side-eyes me. “Uh . . . are you serious?”

“I get the shot, but I figure you’d want to be extra safe like the Boy Scout you are. You’ll get hard in, like, five minutes; might as well be prepared for all possible scenarios, don’t you think?”

He rubs at his bottom lip and exhales a long breath. “Uh, I’d like to talk to your dad first.”

“Why? It’s not like you’re going to ask him for permission to have sex with me.”

“Well, no, but I’d at least like to get his consent to date you.” He runs his palm down his chest and back up.

“Oh. Right.” I guess he’s taking me seriously about convincing my dad it’s okay for me to get involved with him. “But I don’t see what that has to do with us having sex.”

“I’d like to take you out for dinner first.”

“What if we order room service?”

“I mean, I’d like to take you on a proper date, where I pick you up at your house and bring you flowers and chocolate. Then I’ll take you out for a nice dinner.”

“It’s kinda late to do that tonight, don’t you think?” I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s already ten. It’s way too late for a dinner date.

A grin tips up the corner of his mouth, and he scratches his neck. “It is.”

“So . . . does that mean you don’t want to have sex with me tonight?” He’s already getting hard again. I poke his semisoft penis and frown. I’m not sure if it’s the lighting or what, but it looks a little red . . . and bumpy.

“No. I mean, yes, of course. I want to be inside you more than I want my next breath.” He skims my cheek with his fingertips. “But I want to do things in the right order, and so far it’s all been very backward. Let me put the effort in, Queenie. I want to show you you’re worth it.”

“When you put it that way . . .” I prop myself up on an elbow, ready to barter for a round of wet Slip ’N Slide, but I’m distracted by the blotchy red patches that have appeared on his chest and stomach. “Uh, is this normal?”

He glances at my hand, which is right by his now mostly erect, hot-pink peen. “We’re talking about sex, and you’re naked, and all I can smell and taste is you, so yeah, getting hard is normal.”

“No, I mean this.” I poke one of the raised red welts below his navel and follow the visual trail that extends all the way up his chest, to his nipples, over his neck, and to his mouth. I can actually see it growing progressively worse with each passing second. “Are you having an allergic reaction? Oh my God, are you allergic to me?”

“What? Oh hell!” King sits up in a rush and runs a hand from his pecs to his peen.