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lingering trace of aftershave. “Evie—she could come back down.”
    “One kiss, Ross, that’s all I’m asking. I don’t intend to break you apart. I like Evie. She suits you.”
    Ross shook his head, but even as he did so, he tilted forward, bringing his lips closer to Kit’s.
    One kiss! The tremble in his loins told him he wanted more.
    So many shared moments, but this was only the second occasion they’d properly kissed. If they’d resisted the first time would things have turned out differently? If he resisted now, what would happen? Would Kit walk away, go back to Japan and leave him to his cosy, normal life with Evie?
    The trouble was, just looking at Kit was tantamount to being teased by the devil. Something about him beckoned you closer, made you want to touch him, and long for him to touch you. It’s how it had happened the first time. He’d spent too long looking at Kit, admiring the lines of his wiry body as he fucked. In those days, he always seemed to be watching Kit fuck. More often than not it had been Sammie, but there’d been a host of other faces too. Then Kit’s interest seemed to wane. He was suddenly all for stepping back and letting Ross sow his oats.
    Kit’s lips barely brushed the surface of Ross’s own. Whisper light, they dusted the over the sensitive skin, offering the promise of enjoyment, but not yet delivering.
    “I love her,” said Ross, half-turning his head away. A wave of melancholy besieged his tired mind.
    Kit’s hard fingers curled around the side of his jaw, and forced them face-to-face again. “This doesn’t change that. I don’t expect it to.”
    Kit might say it and believe it, but Ross wasn’t so sure. Everything impacted on everything else. He had no idea how Evie would react to even knowing that he’d shared a homoerotic encounter or two with Kit in the past, let alone that Kit seemed intent on picking things up exactly where they left off as if nothing had bloody well happened in-between.
    “Ross,” Kit sighed. Their lips finally met, Kit leading. Kit pressing him hard up against the humming fridge and not letting up, forcing compliance and taking what he wanted.
    Somehow Kit managed to get a hand down between them. He covered Ross’s loins, kneaded his already hardening cock through the layer of denim, leaving Ross gasping.
    “Kit,” he shot out a warning. His friend merely smiled and playfully circled the button fastening of Ross’s jeans.
    He’d resist, Ross told himself, holding himself rigid, every muscle in his body pulled taut. But he’d fail. He always did where Kit was concerned. He just couldn’t say no to the guy. Not ever.
    Instead of springing his cock free and going down on his knees to blow him, Kit relinquished his grip and turned away.
    “You taste just as good as you ever did,” he said. A hint of sadness tinged his voice. “Good night, Ross. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” And he went upstairs to bed.
    Shocked and aroused, Ross remained slumped against the fridge, his thoughts a raging bag of emotions. That was it? One kiss and then walk away? Damn, Kit! Ross’s heart was racing, and his cock begging for some action. He couldn’t go upstairs to Evie like this. Chances were she was already asleep, and he didn’t even want her suspecting that he was horny over someone other than her.
    “Shit!” he cursed and freed his cock. He rested one hand on the corner of the kitchen table, while he quickly pumped his cock. He came quickly, exploding onto a square of kitchen towel. No points for style or stamina for that performance, he thought ruefully as he tidied himself up. A trace scent of sex still clung to him, even once he’d finished washing the dishes, but at least he was no longer standing to attention.
     
    For some reason, despite the yawn stretching her face, Evie couldn’t seem to settle. Kit’s presence had changed the dynamics of the household, warmed areas that were previously cold and made others less inviting. The