Sage and Sand by Yolande Kleinn

Author:Yolande Kleinn [Kleinn, Yolande]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946316035
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

*

Marshall's room is at the very end of the upstairs hall. It's a tiny space, dark but for an open window letting in a cool breeze and just enough moonlight. Marshall nudges him across the threshold, and a moment later Bram hears the sturdy click of the door latching shut.

He stands perfectly still as Marshall circles him slowly. They stare at each other, and Bram swallows. The silence is thrilling, and it sends anticipation twisting beneath his skin.

It's Marshall who moves first, stepping forward so suddenly that Bram stumbles back. Marshall just keeps coming, closing the distance between them, pushing Bram deliberately until his shoulders bump the door. There's the press of cool wood along his spine, and it's like the moment at the base of the stairs all over again.

There's something sharper in the air now, though. Marshall braces one palm flat beside Bram's head as he leans in; his other hand curls beneath Bram's chin, urging him to meet Marshall's eyes. There's something almost terrifying in the way Marshall is watching him, the fierceness of his focus. It's as though he's not looking at Bram, but through him, to every carefully guarded secret. Somehow, the thought doesn't scare him like it should.

He reaches one hand between them and twists his fingers in the front of Marshall's shirt, thoughtlessly tugging him closer.

Marshall breathes a greedy sound and crushes Bram hard against the door, taking his mouth in a rough kiss. Bram gasps as Marshall's fingers slide into his hair, cupping the back of his skull. Marshall's entire body presses closer, an inferno of heat trapping him in place, hurrying his pulse.

The first nudge of tongue catches him off guard, but Bram parts his lips readily. The deeper kiss sets off something bright and eager in his chest, and he frames Marshall's face with both hands. Marshall's hair is soft and clean where it curls over his fingertips, and Bram moans around Marshall's tongue.

He's too occupied to protest when those strong hands release him, and a moment later he hears the heavy thump of a long leather coat dropping to the floor. Bram feels foolish, but also frantic as he reaches now for the buttons of Marshall's shirt. The top four already gape open, but Bram's fingers fumble at the next in line, one after another until the very last button falls loose. He barely notices Marshall doing the same to him, distracted as he is by the heat beneath his hands.

Then Marshall grabs him by both wrists and pins them to either side of Bram's head, jostling him against the door and breaking the kiss. Bram stares, wondering again if he's done something wrong.

But Marshall is staring back just as hard, and there's no censure in his eyes. A wicked smile curls slowly at one corner of his mouth, and he regards Bram with an expression that kindles fire through his blood. Marshall's shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, baring his muscled chest, firm planes broken by frequent scars.

When Marshall leans forward again, it's not to reclaim the kiss that's already taken Bram apart.

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