I kicked my shoes off and rushed to the stairs, two at a time. I ignored the ache in my thighs. I reached the third floor, staringat the black 3B surrounded by a wooden door stained dark red. That door stood between me and a possibility.
Did I come in hot and heavy? Did I give him a hug and assure him things would be okay? The movies made it look easy, as if the act of offering your heart would always warrant a soft symphony that ended with a kiss.
Don’t back down. Don’t run. Don’t lie to yourself.
I knocked.
His shuffle across the room felt like an eternity. My conviction faltered, and excuses for standing outside his room came to mind.
“Lacie is that—” Nick wore nothing but a towel as his eyes widened.
I stepped in and closed the distance. Sliding my hand up his neck, I pressed against his bare stomach. My other hand wrapped behind his back, removing what little distance remained. With our foreheads pressed together, I offered a split second where he could pull away and say no.
He didn’t. We kissed.
If there were hesitation, it evaporated as our tongues touched. As I inched forward, forcing maximum body contact, the door slammed shut behind us. I jumped, but before I could pull away, his hand gripped my neck, pulling me back to him. He still smelled of smoke and tasted of whisky and chocolate. Nick couldn’t be any more of a turn on if he?—
He broke our kiss before pressing our foreheads together. “But?—”
“I don’t believe in curses,” I cut him off. Covered in tattoos of warriors, I’d be his armor if it meant seeing that smile again.
“This won’t fix anything,” he whispered.
“I know,” I said. The words caught in my throat. It wasn’t all about him, and that terrified me. “But I still want it. This. You.”The last word was barely more than a whisper. I had torn open my chest and exposed my heart.
He reached down. The towel hit the floor.
“Me too.”
He stepped back, pulling at the bottom of my t-shirt. I followed until he stopped, pulling the shirt over my head. With arms around my torso, he rested his head on my bare shoulder. I squeezed him tight, kissing the top of his head. This wasn’t about sex, not entirely.
“I’m here,” I whispered. He needed affirmation. I needed certainty.
He nodded. With a final squeeze, he leaned back, staring into my eyes. It was the moment where we decided how this night would go. With a slight rise of the eyebrow, I found the devilish curiosity. My grin answered his question.
I pushed him onto the bed.
It was as if I were seeing him naked for the first time. Sprawled out, I couldn’t help but admire the way his thighs thickened until they reached the bulge before his belly. I hadn’t noticed the light dusting of hair that night. It started at his navel and ran to the top of his belly before vanishing.
It wasn’t the bears in the wild he needed to be worried about. The sight of him had me pressed against my zipper. I wanted to strip and let my junk breathe, but not before I studied this beautiful man. With virgin skin, I imagined what he’d look like in my chair. He’d want a small sigil on his forearm to remind him of somebody or a bear paw on his bicep. Or perhaps his beauty lay in the contrast.
“You’re beautiful.” It felt juvenile saying it out loud. His cheeks turned red, but he didn’t break eye contact. I preferred action over words, though it seemed Nick appreciated affirmations. Mental note made.
I popped the button of my jeans, pulling the zipper down one slow click at a time. Nick didn’t lift his head off the bed. He had already seen me naked, excited, and ready to go. However, this time, it wouldn’t end until we both came.
I kicked off my jeans and hooked my thumbs in my briefs. With a quick swipe, I stood in nothing but socks. I ran my fingers along his thighs until they curved into his waist. I moved to my knees, positioned between his legs, half-hanging off the bed. When my lips touched the inside of his thigh, he let out an audible gasp. I continued the achingly slow pace, gently kissing one before moving to the other.
Tonight, I wanted to be the one who removed the weight he carried.
When I kissed his testicles, his fingers gripped the blanket as if he could come that moment. Sliding along his legs, I replaced the comforter, gripping his fingers. Tonight, I’d do everything in my power to pull him from that void.
My tongue dragged along his balls, up his shaft, to the head. Locking eyes with him, my mouth hovered just above his cock. I paused long enough that he bit his lip and let out a slight whimper. That was the consent I needed.
I swallowed the entirety of Nicholas Johnson.
He moaned as I savored his taste. Touching the back of my throat, I proved a gag reflex existed to be conquered. Nick’s hips bucked while his fingernails dug into my wrist.
I imagined he’d be reserved while naked. When his hand moved to the back of my head, and his hips continued bucking, I stood corrected. He fucked my mouth until I had to come up for air. With a quick rush of oxygen, I returned to his cock, both hands on the back of my head as he continued bucking. Beneath the gloom hid a stud who knew exactly what he wanted.
