Slowly, reverently, I move down his body. Each new patch of skin gets thorough attention from my hands and lips. By the time I reach for the waistband of his boxers, Nate’s breathing has grown heavy, his eyes dark with desire.
“Caspian,” he groans. “You’re killing me here.”
I look up at him through my lashes, unable to suppress a grin. “Patience, Nathan. Good things come to those who wait.”
My fingers tremble slightly as I tug down Nate’s boxers, anticipation building in my chest. As the fabric slides down his thighs, my eyes are immediately drawn to a distinctive mark on his hip. I gasp, my heart skipping a beat as I recognize the familiar shape.
“Is that…a maple leaf?” I breathe, my voice a mix of wonder and disbelief.
Nate chuckles, his body relaxing under my scrutiny. “Just my way of proving I’m a true Vermonter, through and through.”
But I barely register his words, my mind racing as the pieces fall into place. That beauty spot—so unique and memorable—can’t be a coincidence. Memories of that passionate New Year’s Eve encounter flood back, snapshots of pleasure and connection that I’d tucked away as a beautiful, fleeting moment. It all feels like a lifetime ago, but at the same time…
“Nate,” I whisper, my eyes wide as I look up at him. “You…we…”
He tilts his head, curiosity replacing the playful glint in his eyes. “What is it, Cas?”
I keep my revelation to myself for now. After all, what are the odds? Maybe every guy in Vermont really does have a maple-leaf beauty spot, or maybe I remember it wrong and the other guy’s maple leaf wasn’t really a maple leaf. Besides, if my New Year’s Eve man isn’t Nate, how weird is it to bring up a hookup right now? I push the thought aside, focusing on the gorgeous man before me.
Nathan Stone. My sometimes grumpy but always kind neighbor. The big guy with the even bigger heart who gave me his winter coat when I was freezing. The guy I can’t keep out of my mind because his ocean-blue eyes sparkle like sunlight on fresh snow whenever he smiles, making my heart skip a beat every single time. The gentle giant who carefully tends to both forest and hopeless neighbors with those strong, capable hands, revealing a tenderness that matches the warmth in his gaze whenever our eyes meet.
“You know what?” I say, my voice husky. “I think I need a closer look at that beauty spot.”
Nate’s eyes darken with desire. “Be my guest,” he purrs.
I slide down his body, my lips trailing along his skin until I reach that tantalizing maple leaf. I press a soft kiss to it, relishing Nate’s sharp intake of breath. Then, without warning, I take his hard cock into my mouth.
“Fuck, Caspian,” Nate groans, his fingers tangling in my hair.
I hum in response, savoring the weight of him on my tongue. The taste sends a jolt through me. Is it similar to that night, or is my mind making it all up and wishing for things that didn’t happen? I push the thought away again. Right now, I just want to focus on making Nate feel good.
As I work him over, Nate’s breathing grows ragged. “God, you’re amazing,” he pants. “I want… I need…”
I pull off with a pop, looking up at him through my lashes. “What do you need, Nate?”
His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide. “Can I fuck you?” he asks, his voice rough with desire.
A thrill runs through me. “Hell yeah,” I breathe, already getting hard again at the thought.
Nate grins, reaching for the bedside table. “Condom and lube, coming right up.”
As he rummages in the drawer, all I think about is how familiar this all feels. The way he touches me, the sounds he makes—it’s like déjà vu in the best possible way.
Nate turns back to me, condom and lube in hand. “Ready?” he asks, his voice soft.
I nod, lying on my side, facing him, and spreading my legs invitingly. “More than ready.”
He pops open the lube, warming it between his fingers before gently pressing one inside me. I gasp at the sensation.
“You okay?” Nate asks, pausing.
I nod enthusiastically. “Perfect. Don’t stop.”
He chuckles, adding another finger. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
As Nate carefully prepares me, I love how tender he is.
I watch, breath catching, as Nate rolls the condom on with practiced ease. His eyes meet mine, dark and intense. “You sure about this?” he asks, voice husky.
