“Morning.”
Noah’s voice rumbled, low and scratchy and pure sex, reverberating right through Ramin’s core. Ramin clenched up, swallowing a whimper as his dick flexed again.
Noah had to notice.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I… I mean, I didn’t mean to…”
Ramin tried to pull away, but Noah held on to his arms, kept him close.
“It’s okay.” Noah backed up again. “I’m hard too.”
Ramin’s brain short-circuited.
Noah took Ramin’s hand and twined their fingers, guiding Ramin to rub soft circles on his chest. Even through Noah’s borrowed shirt, Ramin could feel the warm, firm swell of his chest muscles.
“You feel so good holding me,” Noah murmured. “Is this okay?”
Ramin’s breath hitched. “Uh. Huh?”
Was it okay?
It waseverything.
“You can touch me more.”
Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck!
Ramin was still asleep, that’s what it was. He was dreaming. Having a sex dream about Noah. It wasn’t the first time, after all, though this one was more realistic than the last one had been. Yeah, that’s what this was, just another sex dream. He’d wake up with wet sticky underwear, and oh God please don’t let Noah notice—
Ramin bit his lip but didn’t wake. Noah was still moving Ramin’s hand in circles around his firm stomach. But then they stilled.
“Ramin?”
Ramin was amazed he could make his voice work. His throat felt like sandpaper. “Yeah?”
“Do you… not like this?”
Noah released him.
“I’m sorry, I thought… I mean, I just…”
Ramin brought his hand back to Noah’s stomach. Was this really real?
Who cared?
“I like it.”
He’d wanted to touch Noah ever since he saw him.
“I like it too.” Noah let out a rumbling sigh. And then: “You can go lower.”
Fuck if Ramin needed to be told twice.
Heat rose as Ramin reached the waistband of Noah’s boxers. His fingers moved on their own, stroking the skin of Noah’s waist, playing with his happy trail, before slipping under the elastic.
Holy shit.
“You sure?” Ramin paused with his hands in Noah’s soft, silky hair.
