When we’re finally both naked, I take a moment to actually look at him. Nick’s not built like the guys I usually date, with a perfectly sculpted body that comes from spending lots of time with a personal trainer. He’s lean and a little soft around the middle, with a trail of dark hair leading down from his navel and a handful of freckles scattered across his chest that I want to map with my mouth.
He catches me staring, and his cheeks flush. “What?”
“Nothing. Just…you’re really hot.”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised about it.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m appreciating.” I trace a finger along his collarbone, down to his sternum. “There’s a difference.”
His flush deepens, spreading down his neck, and I file that information away for later. Nick blushes with his whole body. Good to know.
But then Nick’s hand wraps around my cock, and suddenly, I’m not thinking about his blush.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my hips jerking involuntarily.
“Good fuck or bad fuck?”
“Very, very good fuck. Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t stop. He strokes me slowly, adjusting his grip when my breathing changes, thumbing over the head in a way that makes my vision blur.
My vision doesn’t improve as he starts to kiss his way down my chest, his breath hot against my skin.
He glances up at me through long eyelashes, a question in his eyes.
“Yes,” I manage. “God, yes.”
He continues his torturous kissing down my stomach, and then to my hipbones, and I have to fist my hands in his sheets to keep from embarrassing myself.
“Just so you know,” Nick says conversationally, like he’s not inches away from my extremely interested cock, “I’m having a very surreal moment right now.”
“Yeah?”
“I have literally had dreams about this. Like, actual dreams. And now it’s happening, and I don’t know whether to be turned on or have an existential crisis.”
I laugh, which probably isn’t the sexiest response, but I can’t help it. “Can you do both simultaneously?”
“I’m an excellent multitasker.” He presses a kiss to my hip bone. “Just give me a second to process that I’m about to blow a guy whose poster has been on my wall for three years.”
“Take your time. I’ll wait.”
“So generous.” He looks up at me through those ridiculous lashes, his eyes dark with want. “Okay. Crisis managed. Horniness winning.”
And then his mouth is on me, and I stop laughing entirely.
He’s good at this. Really good. He starts slow, teasing, learning what makes me gasp and what makes me grip the sheets harder. His tongue does something absolutely devastating, and my hips buck involuntarily.
“Sorry—” I start.
He pulls off just long enough to say, “Don’t apologize. That’s hot as hell.” Then he takes me deeper into his mouth, and I lose the ability to form words.
My hand finds his hair, needing something to anchor me. He hums around me and the vibration makes me see stars.
“Nick,” I warn, my voice wrecked. “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last.”
He pulls back, lips swollen and shiny, looking extremely pleased with himself. “That’s kind of the point.”
“I want—” I reach for him, pulling him back up so I can kiss him. I can taste myself on his tongue, which should be weird but is actually incredibly hot. “I want to touch you too.”
