We've been dancing around this for weeks. We've admitted that our fake relationship has turned into something real, but we've never actually talked about feelings and shit.
"Yeah?" It's all I can manage.
"Yeah." He abandons his packing and moves to stand in front of me, between my knees. "In case it wasn't painfully obvious."
Reaching out, I pull him in by his belt loops. "You're not exactly known for your transparency, Huntington."
"I'm trying something new," he says, his voice softer now. "Being honest about what I want."
"And what do you want?" My voice comes out rough.
His answer is to lean in and kiss me, his hands cupping my face with surprising gentleness. It's different from our usual kisses. This is slower, more deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize the feeling.
When he pulls back, his eyes are darker. "Take me to your room?" My room is further back in the house, so it's less likely that we will emerge to a group of guys casually critiquing our performances.
"What about the movie marathon?" I don't really care, but I want to always check in with him.
"They won't miss us," he says, tugging me toward the door.
The walk to my room takes longer than it should because we keep stopping to kiss in the hallway. When we make it inside and I kick the door shut behind us, we're both breathing hard, hands already working at each other's clothes.
"Should we be quieter?" he asks as I push him back onto my bed. "People downstairs?—"
"Let them hear," the words are muffled against his neck since I can't stop nipping at his skin. "I'm done… Caleb, this is completely real for me."
His breath catches. "James?—"
"Unless you want to keep being quiet?" I pull back slightly to look at him.
"No," he says firmly, pulling me back down. "No more quiet. No more fake. Just us, dating and all that."
His sweater goes over his head, followed quickly by his t-shirt. My hands explore the newly exposed skin, tracing the lines of his torso as he arches into the touch. His fingers work the buttons on my shirt quickly, pushing the fabric from my shoulders with an impatience that makes me smile.
"Someone's eager,"
"I've got three days with my family coming up," he says, his hands moving to the front of my pants. "I need something good to remember while I'm surrounded by politicians and photographers."
I laugh against his neck between biting kisses. "Happy to provide the service."
"Shut up and kiss me properly."
Doing what he asks is easy. Kissing him while our bodies push together, lining up our fronts so I can rub against his hard cock. He touches me like he's in a hurry, like he's trying to save up enough of this feeling to get through his days away. I take it slower, moving down his body bit by bit, wanting to stretch out the sensations.Edging Caleb a bit will be fun.
By the time we're both half naked, the fun part has turned into a more intense sex than usual. His eyes stay locked with mine as I move on top of him, both of us breathing heavily in the soft light from my bedside lamp.
"James," he whispers from beneath me, already looking wrecked, and we've barely started. His carefully styled hair is a mess from my fingers, his shirt is somewhere on the floor, and those perfectly pressed slacks are hanging off one ankle because we didn’t have the patience to actually remove them properly.
"You're thinking too much," he says, yanking me down by my collar for another kiss.
That's rich.A laugh tries to escape.My entire brain is focused on making him beg. Nothing else exists right now except Caleb and how wrecked I can get him.
It's hard to think when his tongue's in my mouth and his hands are getting my belt off pretty fast for someone who I’m supposed to be distracting.
Breaking the kiss, I work my way down his neck, tasting salt and whatever expensive cologne he wears that probably costs more than my textbooks. His breath hitches when I reach that spot below his ear, the one that makes him grab my hair hard enough to hurt.
"James—"
"Shut up." My teeth nip at his collarbone. "Let me work."
