I have a little more of The Sorcerer's Guardian (out now!) for you today. In this scene, Loriot and Savarin have walked into a dark room. Loriot moves to light the candles, but Savarin grabs his arm to hold him back while he lights them with magic. We're in Loriot's head here.
But in that breathless moment, heat rushed through him from the one point of contact between them, and he wondered in what was obviously lunacy what it would feel like to turn and push Savarin up against the closed door, trapping him there with his body and kissing him. He wondered what Savarin would feel like against him, under him. Would he melt into Loriot’s kiss? Would he push back and fight for control?
He looked from the elegant, long-fingered hand on his arm up to Savarin’s eyes and saw something flare in the gray depths. Was it the same mad awareness Loriot was suddenly feeling?
They stared for a long moment, and the reckless impulse to actually find out the answers to those questions swept through Loriot. But Savarin dropped his arm and broke eye contact, looking past Loriot to the candles, and Loriot felt as if he’d been doused in cold water.