“What do you want?”
Benji huffed a laugh, rubbing his cock harder against him. “What the fuck do you think?”
Noah smiled. Then he dragged Benji away from the mirror, shoving him up against the bathroom door.
“Can’t make a mess,” he said, crushing Benji against the wood. “Think you can come just from this?”
He shoved his hips against Benji’s, grinding so hard Benji whimpered.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “Fuck.”
He tried to move his hips against him. Noah grabbed his hip, pinning him still against the door as he humped him.
“Fuck,” Benji said again, voice cracking as Noah used him. “Can I suck you off?”
“No. You just get this.” Noah grinded faster, the hard line of his cock through two layers of clothes making Benji’s mouth water.
“Please?” Benji tried. “I can make it so good, take you so deep?—”
He cut off with a moan as Noah slid a hand around his throat. Not squeezing, just resting.
Noah bit his ear. “Want me to go tighter?”
“No,” Benji said hurriedly. Then he hesitated. “Not my windpipe. Maybe around the sides?”
Noah squeezed with his fingertips. Benji sucked in a deep breath, euphoria racing through him. Of course, Noah knew exactly what he needed. He’d been worried the first time Noah did this, the panic so far away he’d barely noticed it. But Noah had never restricted his airflow. It was just pressure, a delicious collar making Benji’s eyes roll up in his head.
Noah picked up the pace, rubbing his clothed cock against Benji’s so fast Benji worried about chafing. Then Noah’s hand tightened on his hip and throat, and the worry dissipated to the place all his worries went when Noah had him.
“So good,” Noah muttered into his neck, panting wetly. “My good boy. Nobody touches you like I do, huh? Nobody elseseesyou.”
“Yeah,” Benji managed, marveling. He was pinned in place against a bathroom door, and he’d never felt so safe.
“Mine,” Noah said. He pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Say it.”
“Yours,” Benji groaned.
Then he came, letting out a cry so loud Noah had to slap a hand over his mouth.
CHAPTER 18
Katee Robson was one of Noah’s favorite interviewers.
She was friendly. Considerate. Didn’t blow smoke up his ass. But most of all, she had integrity. She didn’t twist stories to suit her angle; she told it straight. And if you told her something in confidence, you’d never see it splashed over a tabloid the following week. He’d learned this the hard way—by making an idiot of himself after a messy breakup and spilling his guts to her on a balcony during a party. They were both fresh out of college by then, but she was still a journalist. And Noah had woken up the next day with a pounding hangover and the sinking realization that he needed to do damage control. He’d called her, hoping Michael hadn’t gone after her yet.
She said he hadn’t. Then she assured him that since he wasn’t on record, she wouldn’t use a word of what he said.
And she hadn’t. Not one word of their conversation had leaked. All these years later, Katee was one of the only press people whom Noah actually looked forward to talking to.
She beamed at him as she sat down in his office. “Noah! You look great. Have your arms gotten bigger?”
“More importantly, have yours?”
She laughed, bringing her arms up and flexing them. There was the slightest bulge against her suit jacket.
“Your gym advice really worked,” she told him as she set up her phone to record their conversation. “Do you do personal training on the side?”
“Maybe one day.” Noah grinned. “What can I do for you, Katee?”
