A woman in the yard next door stared at him as she worked on her garden. Even from a distance, he could feel her disapproval. Kit gave her a tiny finger wave and pranced to the door with a lot of hip sway, working it every step. He lived for pissing off judgmental people. They had no clue what he had survived to come out this fabulous. He refused to tone down his shine for the asshole masses.
When Matthew answered the door, Kit forgot about the neighbor. Matthew wasn’t wearing a shirt. His nipples were pierced. Kit’s gaze slid down Matthew’s body. He was one giant tattoo. Fuck. He was beautiful.
“Am I early or...”
“Only by a minute or so.” Matthew took his hand and dragged him inside. “I just spilled our dinner all over myself. We may be ordering in.” Matthew winced. “Sorry.”
Kit waved away his apology. “The last time I cooked, a man died. You’re fine. We’ll figure it out.”
A smile snapped to Matthew’s lips at Kit’s claim. “You’re a nut.”
He had no idea.
“I can’t believe you live so close and in this house. What the hell, Matthew?”
Matthew shrugged. “Would you like a tour?”
“Of course.” Kit linked his arm through Matthew’s because he liked touching all the inked skin. As Matthew led him upstairs and pointed out various rooms, Kit puzzled over the complexities of life. Kit did not like to be touched, and he didn’t touch other people. Matthew was one of the very few exceptions. Zep and Lucky were allowed to touch him because they were his chosen family. Lucky was his friend, but he felt more like a brother. Zep acted and felt like Kit’s dad. Frost occasionally touched his arm or kissed his cheek. Kit never flinched away, but Frost was kind of like a stepdad. The twins were babies. They were harmless. He loved holding them. But he didn’t understand why Matthew didn’t bother him.
Kit glanced his way. Matthew didn’t feel like a brother or a father. He sure as hell wasn’t a child. Yet, somehow, Matthew wasn’t like everyone else. Kit wanted Matthew to touch him. He didn’t understand.
Matthew led him back downstairs. Kit spotted a pool through the French doors in the formal living room. His curiosity skyrocketed by the second. There was definitely something Matthew hadn’t told him. They passed an indoor gym, which seemed crazy since Matthew worked at a gym. Finally, they came to an enormous bedroom. The already high bed sat on a raised area that looked custom made for the massive cherry wood piece. Everything about the house screamed money, character, and taste. Just like Matthew, it was a work of art. Also, just like Matthew, Kit wanted to know more. Matthew had his attention, and it had nothing to do with the money Matthew obviously hid. Matthew had layers. Kit wanted to peel them away. Honestly, he couldn’t get enough.
Matthew couldn’t stop watching Kit’s every reaction. They were so close to his bed now. All it would take was some persuasion. Years of longing and desire fed Matthew’s inner darkness. He felt like he stalked Kit, waiting for his moment. In fact, his hands lifted, as if they couldn’t wait another second to touch Kit.
Then Kit turned and leaned back against the doorframe, stopping Matthew from touching him the way he wanted. He held Matthew’s stare. “So, tell me, how does a yoga instructor afford this house?”
Matthew stepped closer, crowding Kit’s space. “I’ll tell you as soon as you tell me why a man who’s been in several movies and magazines doesn’t live on his own?”
Kit’s hands landed on Matthew’s sides, forcing Matthew to temper his breathing. He couldn’t focus on anything beyond the heat of Kit’s hands. Kit lightly stroked.
Matthew leaned closer, losing the threads of the conversation. He wanted Kit so badly, it hurt. This was the first time that dream didn’t feel out of his reach.
Kit didn’t look away. He looked like he was waiting for Matthew to make the first move. His lids lowered as Matthew dipped his head.
The doorbell rang, freezing Matthew in place.
“You have to be fucking kidding me.”
He wanted to throw a giant temper tantrum. Matthew wanted to cry. They had been so close to kissing. Matthew was certain of it. He might have stamped a little harder than necessary on his way to the door. His temper spiked when he found Cindy, the HOA president, on his doorstep. She was the nosiest and worst person on the planet. There was nothing he wanted to be doing less than dealing with her right now.
“Hey, Cindy.”
A fake smile stretched Cindy’s lips. “Hi, Matthew. We noticed you have a guest.”
Matthew’s smile turned brittle. He wished he wore a shirt. Matthew had lived here for several years now, and he still hadn’t figured out who “we” was. “Well, yeah. It’s my house. Sometimes I get visitors.”
“Oh, of course. You’re completely allowed to have whoever you want in your house. That’s not the issue. You’re a really great guy and we’re super proud to have the grandson of a war hero among us.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Thank you.”
“We’re just a little concerned about the number of homosexuals that are invading us.”
Matthew’s eyebrows tried crawling toward his hairline.
Cindy wasn’t finished. “This is a conservative neighborhood. Everyone has kids here.”
“You might be a conservative, but that doesn’t make the neighborhood...” Matthew’s gaze slid to where Kit stood out of sight of the open doorway. Kit had pulled his shirt higher and tied it beneath his sternum, showing off his flawless stomach, which begged for someone to bite it. By someone, Matthew meant him.
Cindy was still talking about bible verses and corrupting children. Matthew couldn’t focus on anything other than Kit stripping off his pants. He wore a red lace thong. Matthew’s body stirred. Before he knew what would happen, Kit skipped his way and launched himself into Matthew’s arms. Matthew’s hands automatically cupped Kit’s bare ass cheeks as Kit’s legs wrapped around his waist.
“Come on, Daddy. I’m getting cold. How can you neglect me to play with a girl?”
Even though Matthew grasped that Kit was fucking with the homophobic bitch on his doorstep, his mind wasn’t strong enough to handle Kit’s half naked body against his. He couldn’t pretend. Matthew felt too much for Kit.
“No one comes before you.” He held Kit’s stare as he made the claim, hoping Kit understood he meant it.
The insulted stammering coming from the doorway became a distraction. Matthew’s gaze shot toward the door. “We’re busy.” He kicked the door closed.
Kit stared at Matthew’s mouth.
Matthew couldn’t have been harder.
“Your hands are on my ass.”
Matthew licked his lips. He swore he could already taste Kit. “Your ass is in my hands.”
Kit leaned a hair closer. “That’s fair.”
A stuttered breath escaped Matthew.
He felt Kit go hard against him.
Matthew broke. He backed Kit against the door and claimed Kit’s mouth. Kit came back at him every bit as hard. Matthew let Kit’s feet slide to the floor so he could grasp Kit’s jaw. He held Kit’s face in place so he could lick Kit’s tongue exactly the way he had dreamed of doing.