Page 34 of These Wicked Hearts

“Reckless?” Is he fucking joking? “I’m not reckless!”

“You should have hidden that slutty tattoo.”

“Slutty? My tattoos aren’t slutty.”

“Tell that to my tongue.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweats and grins at me. “And I’m not telling you what I do. I’m open to you guessing, though.”

“A personal trainer?”

“No.”

“A nude model.”

“No.”

“A bodyguard?”

“Why, are you hiring?” He winks. “And no, but I do sometimes punch people in the face.”

“For your job? Are you a boxer?”

“No.”

“So, you’re around naked men, have to get tested regularly, and sometimes you punch people in the face.”

He nods.

“An enigma. Very mysterious.”

He nods quickly. “Can I ask a question?”

“If I say no, we both know you’ll ask anyway.”

“So, like . . .” He turns more to me. “The last time was great, right? Like it wasn’t just me? I mean I just, it was, wow. Like, wow wow.”

“I’m rethinking all of this.”

“I’m just saying, it was amazing, right? I mean, I just lay there, so maybe it was only good for me. I don’t normally let my partner do all the work. I’m a giver. I’ve been told I’m a five-star eater. Had to look up what that meant.” He grins like the devil but then it falls flat. “I mean, maybe they were lying to me. Though I like to think what I lack in technique I make up for with enthusiasm. I’m a very eager lover. Most of the time. I mean, you practically did all the work, and I barely did anything but⁠—”

“Wha—what?” What the hell is he talking about? Just lay there? He offered up his beautiful body like a gift. I’ve never had that much fun with someone. But instead of all that embarrassing shit I don’t feel like sharing, I just shrug.

“It was okay.” He glares at me flatly. “Fine. It was great.”

“Because I haven’t felt like that ever,” he admits. “And sometimes when my brain gets fixed on something, I can’t think of anything else. I mean, not in an obsessive way. Well, maybe. Like, I’m not ‘wearing your skin’ obsessive, but like, really craving more of what happened between us. It’s all I can think about.” He takes a breath. “That’s it. Your move, rock star.” He snorts. “I fucked a rock star.”

“I . . . I don’t know what to say.” My brain tries to sift through all the word vomit. “You give me a headache.”

He nods.

“It was great sex, Atlas. Just relax, okay.”

“I prepped in case you were—I mean if we⁠—”

I need to shut this gorgeous boy up. I go to him and push him against my couch and watch him fall on it. I slide into his lap, pleased when his hands find space on my hips then smooth up my spine. “I’m going to fuck you. Okay?” I grab his face and pull his attention to me. “We’re going to do this exactly how I want to do it.”

“What do you mean?” He kneads my hips as they roll on his lap.

One more night and I’m going to unleash everything I am on him. One more night. “Do you remember your safe word?”