Page 103 of Crease Collision

The tight, restless buzz under my skin loses its edge.

I’ve missed him so much. All week, I kept telling myself road trips are merciless. Everybody gets strange when they’re running on bad sleep and hotel air. Once I get home and see Oskar, the static will stop. Everything will feel normal again.

It has to, because I can’t be without him regardless of how scared I am.

An hour later, the doorbell rings. I’m already moving before the sound has faded.

The breath goes out of me as soon as I open the door. We don’t move. Oskar is just there, his cheeks flushed red from the January wind, his hair a mess, his eyes wide and locked on mine. He looks like he’s been holding his breath since I left.

Fuck.

The distance vanishes when his cold hands frame my face, fingers sliding into my hair while his body presses me against the wall. We kiss, but there’s hesitation in it. I think we’re both asking the same question and terrified of the answer.

Then a week of distance, weird texts, and deep anxiety burns away. I fist my hands in the thick wool of his coat, pulling him closer, needing the heavy, solid heat of him to ground me. I’ve needed that since the last time we were together.

He moans against my mouth, a low, gravelly sound, and my shoulders finally drop. The tension leaves me exactly as it does when the final horn blows after sixty brutal minutes on the ice.

Jesus Christ. Maybe this was only a bad stretch. A ridiculous amount of travel and too many nights without each other. Too much time for the past to haunt me.

But now Oskar is here, holding me like he’s trying to memorize the shape of my body, kissing me like he never wants to stop. I close my eyes and let myself believe everything is okay.

When the kiss breaks, words rush out of me. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” he whispers. “You’ll never know how much.”

He covers my mouth with his and slides his tongue inside. I groan because it feels so good but isn’t enough.

It’s nowhere near enough. A single, overwhelming need replaces the canceled plans and the gnawing fear that I’d fucked everything up.

I pull away from his mouth. My hands are already unzipping his coat, shoving it down his arms. It lands on the floor, and my voice comes out raspy. “God, I need you.”

A flash of cold, sharp fear shoots through me. Then it’s gone, engulfed by the fire roaring in my gut. Hunger fills me and becomes one desperate, demanding ache.

“Need you too, baby.” He slides his hands under my shirt. They’re cold against my hot skin, making me shudder.

We stumble down the hall toward the bedroom. Halfway there, he yanks my T-shirt over my head. I get rid of his sweater but have no patience for the shirt underneath. Buttons fly, scattering across the floor as we start moving again.

The bed catches us when we fall into a tangle of limbs and frantic kisses. He crawls on top of me and grinds his hard cock against mine. Jolts of electricity race up my spine, silencing every thought except more. This is exactly what I need—not just sex, but Ozzy looking at me like I’m all he wants.

His eyes are wild as he taps my arm. “Let’s get the rest of our clothes off.”

In fits and starts, we finish undressing, sneaking kisses as we go. Then I use both hands to push him back onto the mattress. “Need to taste you.”

He keeps his gaze locked on mine as he spreads his legs, and I settle between them. When I take him into my mouth, he tastes like salt and skin. The suction makes him hiss, and he tangles his fingers in my hair.

It’s only a moment until he says, “Stop. You’re going to make me come.”

I’d love to swallow his cum, but I need him inside me even more, so I pull off.

He sits up. “Lie back and let me suck you.”

“No. Please fuck me, Ozzy. I need it.”

“I’ve got you, baby. No worries.”

I lie back. His tongue is hot and insistent, licking and teasing me until I’m writhing on the bed.

“Feels great,” I say, “but put your cock inside me.”