The disturbing thought fled when Alec gripped the edges of Dylan’s jacket and lifted his chin to meet the kiss head-on, shoving the moment from way-better-than-expected to smokin’ hot. The change was entirely too much to process, so Dylan closed his eyes and turned his brain off.
He increased the pressure, and Alec’s lips opened willingly beneath his. The surge of satisfaction had Dylan shifting closer, instinctively tipping his head to seek a better position. First left. And then exploring from the right, gathering more of that mouth with his. A stream of sensations whizzed by like the blur of scenery at high rates of speed. The sensations included heat and moisture and softness, as well as hot, damp breath and the faint taste of a fruity wine.
Enjoying the hard chest beneath his hand, Dylan slid his palm lower, past the flat abdomen and landing on the lean jut of Alec’s hip. Alec let out a tiny whimper, and Dylan just managed not to haul the man closer.
Not a trace of disgust pricked Dylan’s conscious. In fact, his body grew frustrated by the limited contact, so he opened his mouth wider, pressed deep. Alec moaned beneath him, as if asking for more.
Oh God, no. No tongue. No way was Dylan up for tongue.
The entire event couldn’t have lasted longer than five seconds, maybe six—okay, more like ten—but then Alec touched his tongue to Dylan’s lower lip, right before giving it a gentle nip. The pleasure nearly crippled Dylan, and he groaned.
Jesusfuckingchrist.
Dylan drew back, stunned. Body smoking. Blood boiling. Limbs singed.
What the hell?
Blue eyes blinked up at him. “Sorry.” Alec cleared his throat. “Got a little carried away.”
Dylan wiped his mouth, surprised to find his fingers shook a little. “S’okay, man.” He swiped a hand through his hair and hoped he appeared calmer than he felt. “I’m the one who started the whole lip-lock idea.”
Several seconds passed by as Dylan tried to get his act together while Alec looked as if he was in pain.
Alec finally spoke again. “I need another drink.”
And all Dylan could think was I need about twenty.
~~~***~~~
Two shots of tequila later, with the stability of his knees still in question, retreat seemed to be Alec’s only option.
Three uniformed servers bustled across the hardwood floor of Noah’s kitchen. The impressive room contained restaurant quality appliances, eleven-foot ceilings, and huge windows overlooking the bay. Silver platters of appetizers lined the granite countertop. Although the space also included a full wine refrigerator and the bottle of Patrón Alec had pulled from the cupboard, he appreciated the solitude the most. He needed to focus on recovering from the feel of Dylan’s mouth pressed against his.
For the first few seconds of the kiss, all Alec could think was this isn’t real. Of course Dylan wanted to show Tyler up. But the longer the moment had gone on, the more genuine the scenario felt, until Alec had begun to envision how the night could end, with Alec on his knees in front of Dylan. Or vice versa. And, oh God…
He pressed his lids closed, rubbing his eyes.
“Alec.”
He looked up and met Tyler’s gray gaze, his ex leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. Alec’s heart picked up its thudding pace, and he braced for the encounter.
Wasn’t a make-out session with Dylan in front of fifty of Noah’s friends—not to mention the fallout from the event—enough to contend with for one night? And exactly when had Alec’s life turned into a headline worthy of People magazine?
Alec took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in his chest. “Tyler—”
At the same time, Tyler said, “I want to—”
They both paused, and the heavy atmosphere grew more oppressive. A muscle in Tyler’s jaw twitched, a habit that Alec remembered from the early days of their relationship. Every time they’d met with an organization to request financial support for their newly founded clinic, Tyler had been well prepared. Cool. Confident. Sharply dressed and in total control. Except for the small tic that had been the only clue to Tyler’s discomfort.
The same tic that had appeared the afternoon Tyler told Alec goodbye.
Alec’s pulse increased to an uncomfortable rate. He’d fought hard for the right for them to marry. All he’d ever wanted was to share his life, his home, with someone special. Commitment. Tyler knew that the day he’d moved in. And was that too much to ask?
Apparently Tyler thought so.
“Actually, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way things went down,” Tyler said as he entered the kitchen. “I realize me leaving seemed to come out of the blue. And I know how hard that can be.”
For the first time since the breakup, Alec let his anger take the lead. “Do you?” The whiplash turn of events had left Alec stunned. He’d never even had a chance to save the relationship. “Everything seemed fine, and the next thing I knew, you were gone.”
Tyler glanced out the window. “In college, the same thing happened to me.” He crossed his arms. “I never did figure out what went wrong.”