known what he was doing anyway, and wasn’t budging from her course.
When a half hour had passed, he found himself in Maisie’s room, outside her bathroom door, debating whether to ask when she’d be coming out so he could warm up her food, and therefore his.
But the door opened, suddenly, and there was Maisie wrapped in towels, her eyes opening wide in surprise to see him standing there. It was a morning do-over, except he was at her bathroom door.
The fluttering at his mind disappeared, and with the relief came a rush of heat and that bothersome feeling. Why had she kept him waiting?
The light on her damp skin was not unlike the glow she’d had in her dark city, so forgetting breakfast altogether, he stepped inside, took her by the shoulders, and smashed his mouth to hers.
Do-over. How many of those were granted in a man’s life?
He felt a shudder go through her and sensed the towel wrapped like a turban on her head slipping, but he only fitted his mouth to hers even more harshly to take her in.
She’d hate him later, but that couldn’t be helped.
Her head tipped back slightly to accommodate him, the tension in her body easing, while her upper arms flexed under his grip to reach for him.
Yes, closer would be better. He adjusted his hold so that their bodies could come together. Damp spots soaked through his clothes here and there, but he didn’t mind. He wanted to light all the windows in all the dark buildings in her city, and he was sure the electricity between them was enough to do just that.
She had the nerve to giggle under his very intense assault. Seemed she wasn’t angry at him for before, after all.
He pulled back to find her fighting the smile overtaking her face. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ll be serious. Please continue.”
At least she was inviting him to continue, so his pride was somewhat saved. “What’s so funny?”
She winced, so he knew it was going to be bad. God help him.
“It was a very excellent kiss and I was trying to figure out how to move it to the bed—” Another good sign, so Steve took a deep breath to hear her out. “—but then I imagined calling out Steve at some climactic point, which I’m sure I would be compelled to do, except the idea of a breathless Steeeve just made me laugh. But I’ll get over it.” She beckoned him forward. “So kiss me again. I’m totally down for this.”
Not so fast. “My name is what made you laugh?”
“It’s a perfectly good name, I know. Very common. It used to bug me, but it doesn’t anymore.” She smiled at him. “Suits you, actually.” Then she laughed again.
“What were you doing thinking while I was kissing you, anyway?”
She appeared to sober, but was faking. “My brain does that. It thinks. And it was thinking, let’s move this over there .” Her gaze roamed to the bed. She suddenly squinted at him. “Do you happen to have a nickname? You know—Ace, Tiger…Sport?”
His nickname growing up had been Devil. “Most people call me Coll.”
“I’m not calling out your last name. ‘Oh, Coll! Yes, Coll!’ It’s so impersonal.”
Enough. His blood was running hot. Time was running short.
With a quick reach and flick of his wrist, he had the towel that was wrapped around her body in his grasp.
“Steve!” she said, surprised and blushing.
“See,” he answered, “my name works. Say it just like that.”
***
Maisie wasn’t shy. She liked her body and liked sex.
But Steve Coll was very different from any guy—well, all two of them—that she’d been with before. The first had been Jared during her senior year in high school. The second was Dillon, who ran an illegal Rêve in the basement of his grandmother’s house near UCSD. They’d been a thing until he found out that she could get Darkside on her own, and then he’d gone weird on her. Dillon was about Steve’s age, but aside from their both being male, they were utterly different animals.
For Steve she ached with
When a half hour had passed, he found himself in Maisie’s room, outside her bathroom door, debating whether to ask when she’d be coming out so he could warm up her food, and therefore his.
But the door opened, suddenly, and there was Maisie wrapped in towels, her eyes opening wide in surprise to see him standing there. It was a morning do-over, except he was at her bathroom door.
The fluttering at his mind disappeared, and with the relief came a rush of heat and that bothersome feeling. Why had she kept him waiting?
The light on her damp skin was not unlike the glow she’d had in her dark city, so forgetting breakfast altogether, he stepped inside, took her by the shoulders, and smashed his mouth to hers.
Do-over. How many of those were granted in a man’s life?
He felt a shudder go through her and sensed the towel wrapped like a turban on her head slipping, but he only fitted his mouth to hers even more harshly to take her in.
She’d hate him later, but that couldn’t be helped.
Her head tipped back slightly to accommodate him, the tension in her body easing, while her upper arms flexed under his grip to reach for him.
Yes, closer would be better. He adjusted his hold so that their bodies could come together. Damp spots soaked through his clothes here and there, but he didn’t mind. He wanted to light all the windows in all the dark buildings in her city, and he was sure the electricity between them was enough to do just that.
She had the nerve to giggle under his very intense assault. Seemed she wasn’t angry at him for before, after all.
He pulled back to find her fighting the smile overtaking her face. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ll be serious. Please continue.”
At least she was inviting him to continue, so his pride was somewhat saved. “What’s so funny?”
She winced, so he knew it was going to be bad. God help him.
“It was a very excellent kiss and I was trying to figure out how to move it to the bed—” Another good sign, so Steve took a deep breath to hear her out. “—but then I imagined calling out Steve at some climactic point, which I’m sure I would be compelled to do, except the idea of a breathless Steeeve just made me laugh. But I’ll get over it.” She beckoned him forward. “So kiss me again. I’m totally down for this.”
Not so fast. “My name is what made you laugh?”
“It’s a perfectly good name, I know. Very common. It used to bug me, but it doesn’t anymore.” She smiled at him. “Suits you, actually.” Then she laughed again.
“What were you doing thinking while I was kissing you, anyway?”
She appeared to sober, but was faking. “My brain does that. It thinks. And it was thinking, let’s move this over there .” Her gaze roamed to the bed. She suddenly squinted at him. “Do you happen to have a nickname? You know—Ace, Tiger…Sport?”
His nickname growing up had been Devil. “Most people call me Coll.”
“I’m not calling out your last name. ‘Oh, Coll! Yes, Coll!’ It’s so impersonal.”
Enough. His blood was running hot. Time was running short.
With a quick reach and flick of his wrist, he had the towel that was wrapped around her body in his grasp.
“Steve!” she said, surprised and blushing.
“See,” he answered, “my name works. Say it just like that.”
***
Maisie wasn’t shy. She liked her body and liked sex.
But Steve Coll was very different from any guy—well, all two of them—that she’d been with before. The first had been Jared during her senior year in high school. The second was Dillon, who ran an illegal Rêve in the basement of his grandmother’s house near UCSD. They’d been a thing until he found out that she could get Darkside on her own, and then he’d gone weird on her. Dillon was about Steve’s age, but aside from their both being male, they were utterly different animals.
For Steve she ached with
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