Setting Fire to the Stars (a MM Sci-Fi Romance)

Chapter 12: Temptation [M]

**(Note: This chapter contains sexual themes that may be inappropriate for young readers including explicitly sexual content and pearl-clutching smutty language. Age +18 Reader discretion advised.)**

((Edit: I, uh, upped the spice for this chapter just a tad . . .enjoy.))

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Lauren
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A wave of déjà vu swept over me as I blinked up at the dark gray ceiling. Thunder rolled as lightning flashed from the dark depths beyond my window. Confused about where I was, I attempted to roll onto my side, only to release a sharp hiss at the stabbing pain. My entire body ached as though I had taken a swim in barbed wire when I brought my fingers up to prod at the tender area of my ribs.

"Shit—ow ow!" Forcing myself upright, I snuck a tentative glance down at my aching abdomen and an unintelligent whimper fell from my lips. My torso was colored a frightening shade of purple, standing out against my freckled skin. It looked like someone had sloppily tattooed smears of grape jelly onto my chest.

A deep intake of breath from the dark corner of the room caused me to whip my head toward the sound, my hands rising in defense, but instead of the masked assassin I expected to find lurking in the shadows, I was shocked to see a certain raven-haired male.

Peter reclined in the same leather chair that I had slept in yesterday, chest rising in falling in deep slumber. I sighed in relief, my shoulders drooping as tension drained from my body as I took him in.

Eyes that contained the wrath of the seas remained closed as he dozed, his chiseled jaw slack, features appearing more gentle than the usual brooding mask he wore. His unforgiving lips, which were normally twisted down in a grimace, met together gently like lovers. Tousled dark hair tumbled over his forehead, making him look like the sex-god everyone knew him as. Peter's chest rose and fell, looking more relaxed than I'd seen him in a long time. It wasn't my first time catching a glimpse of him while he was asleep, but I spared myself a moment to appreciate him nonetheless.

Fuck, he was frustratingly handsome.

Still an asshole, though.

He was certainly bigger than me, all that football and weightlifting resulting in firm muscles and sharp edges compared to my scrawny self. Against my better judgement, I couldn't help but study his sculpted body, from his defined pecs down to where his shirt rode up above those immaculate washboard abs. Licking my chapped lips, my gaze slowly fell to the deep 'V' of Peter's hips.

Jesus, was I drooling?

Quickly swiping my mouth, I was ashamed to find that there I was indeed a line of spit trickling down my chin.

I should stop. Ogling a straight man in his sleep is a big NO. Just stop looking. Look away, Lauren. . . Look away, dammit!

Being the weak man that I was, my sights delved down to the slight treasure trail leading into the band of his pants. Then lower and lower still, all the way down to—

Hoooooooo boy. I'm in trouble.

A dark, twisted heat rocketed through me, my hands wringing together in an attempt to cease my train of lustful thoughts. If I didn't, I was going to have something else to worry about other than my injuries.