“Bad different?”
“Gooddifferent. Like your brain isn’t running laps around Central Park.”
I rolled my eyes. “Still jogging. Just not sprinting.”
We went quiet, but the silence was easy.
“You know,” he said, voice soft, “you can talk to me about anything.”
“I know.” I caught myself worrying my lower lip. “But I wanted to look at you first.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “I like that.”
“Tell me about your day,” I said.
“Nope. I want to know about yours. You’re the one who seems different.”
I rolled onto my side. “Fine. But don’t make fun of me.”
“Absolutely not promising that. Go.”
I shook my head. “Asshole.”
“There you are.” His voice was warm. “What’s going on with you, Pack? After you tell me, I have something big to show you.”
Heat crawled up the back of my neck. “Careful. Keep talking like that, you’re gonna start something.”
“Oh? Is that a warning?”
“No. It’s a promise.”
He looked into the camera. “Tell me what you want tonight.”
“I want—” My voice cracked, so I stopped and swallowed. “I want time with you. Right now. I want to see you. Hear you. Feel close.”
“No problem,” he said. “We can do that. And to be clear, dicks will be involved?”
My pulse kicked into high gear as Nico Fever spread through me. I was already getting hard. “Yes.”
“Give me a sec, and I’ll call you from my computer. Have yours ready too.”
I finished stripping and settled back on the bed. When his picture materialized on my laptop, I gasped. He was spread out, muscles and cock on display, naked except for a beat-to-hell Lake Michigan State hockey hat.
“Holy shit,” I rasped. “Is that the same one you wore in college?”
“Yep.” His eyes crinkled. “Thought maybe you’d like being roomies again tonight. We could do something I used to think about all the time.”
“Fuck yeah. Um… God, you look hot.”
“You’re the one who’s hot,” he said, raking his eyes over my body. “I like seeing you hard for me.”
“You’re pretty damn hard yourself,” I said, wrapping my hand around my cock. “I see it throbbing from here.”
He blinked very slowly, a kitty kiss. “So, we’re in our room. I come back from the bathroom, and you’re still on top of your covers. Wearing only your boxers.”
“And you…” I was already there, back in that cinderblock room, the scent of his laundry detergent back in my head.“You’re not wearing a shirt. Only your ratty gray sweats. Going commando like you always did. I can see the outline of your cock through them.”
“Yeah.” He stared a moment, reaching for his dick. “Especially since I start getting hard the minute I see you. You’re lying there with your hands behind your head, looking like you expect me to do something about it.”
