“I thought you might like them.”
“Then I do want to try,” he said.
“Alright.” I smoothed my hand up and down the length of his spine. “Just twist off the cap and bring it up to your nose. Plug one nostril and take a deep breath. It kicks in pretty quick.”
“What does it feel like?” he asked, fingers already working on the cap, this time getting it all the way off.
“A bit like flying, I think. But not too far from the ground.”
“Do I just?” Smith took off the cap and raised it toward his face.
“Just take a breath of it, I’ll count for you. Don’t get it on your skin, just…” Before I could finish, the bottle was there, his eyes were closed, and his chest swelled on an inhale. “Good boy, baby. Yeah, one, two, three. That’s enough.”
“I thought it would burn,” he murmured, breathing out a slow hum of air.
I took the bottle and cap from his hands, watching as the rush hit him. Smith floated out of his body briefly, a deep laugh building in the back of his throat before it died. His chin quivered, and he let out a shaking exhale, lashes fluttering as he came back to himself less than a minute later.
“Hi,” I whispered, turning his face toward mine.
He blinked at me, jaw still slack until his mouth dragged up into an easy smile.
“Hi,” he said back.
“Are you good?”
“Better than, I think.” Smith hummed, another slow blink. “So people do this…during sex?”
“It helps you relax.” He cut me off with an agreeable laugh. “It helps you feel good.”
“I feel great,” he murmured, sliding his hand up my thigh but still stopping short of trying to reach for my cock.
“Can I make you feel better?”
“God, yes.”
I put the cap back on the bottle and slid it back into Smith’s limp hand. I waited until he curled his fingers around the brown glass, then nudged him further onto the bed.
“Hands and knees,” I told him.
“Hmmn. Yes, Sir,” he said it more like a moan, and I waited until he’d gotten into place to correct him.
“Just Riggs, tonight.”
“Riggs,” he rasped my name, stretching his hand out toward me. I dropped into a squat and brought my mouth level with the edge of the bed. I kissed his fingertips, and his knuckles, laughing under my breath when he buried his face into the pillows.
“I’m here, baby.”
“I really love when you call me that.”
I trailed my fingers up the length of his arm and down the arch of his back.
“I love calling you that,” I told him. “I love you.”
“God.”
“Be careful with the poppers,” I warned, coming around to the foot of the bed. “Use them whenever you want, but I’ll tell you when sometimes too. Alright?”
“Yes. Yes, Riggs.”
