“Sensitive?” he asked.
“I guess,” I said. “Feels good.”
Xander hummed, brushing his fingers down further—also sensitive—and back up again, making me gasp.
“You’re right, you do feel good,” he teased. “Relax.”
“This is as relaxed as I get,” I joked.
Xander hummed again, fingers still exploring with light touches. “Well,” he said. “We’ll see about that.”
“You look alotmore relaxed now,” Xander teased, grinning at me as he worked a couple—three?—fingers in and out of me, rhythmic and soothing enough to send me off to sleep if his other hand wasn’t playing with my cock the whole time. Instead I was floating in a sea of warm arousal and bedclothes that smelled like Xander and I never wanted to move.
“Mm,” I said, since it was about the only verbal communication I could manage.
Xander laughed, bending to kiss my crooked knee, free hand roaming to oversensitive skin and making me hiss.
“Wish you could see yourself like this,” he said. “You’d never try to tell me you weren’t sexy again.”
“Take a picture,” I offered, forcing myself to speak.
Xander raised an eyebrow.
“Take a picture,” I said, surer this time that I wanted that. “Then you can show me.”
Xander hesitated a heartbeat or two, then reached over to the nightstand.
“Using your phone,” he said, holding it up so I could see.
I shrugged. “I’ll send it to you later.”
I could tell by the way Xander looked at me then that this meant something to him, that I was trusting him with this. All I could do in response to that was smile.
He fumbled with the phone while I watched him, brows furrowed in concentration.
I loved him. I loved watching him like this. I loved being with him.
“I’m not as good at this as you,” Xander said.
“I love every picture you ever take,” I told him. “I could teach you how to do it like I do it, but then they wouldn’t beyourpictures anymore. Let me see?”
Xander turned the phone around, and I smiled at the picture.
“Sexy, right?” Xander asked, earnest.
“I think it’s sexy that you look at me and see something worth capturing,” I said. “Ifeelsexy when I’m with you. I thought that the first morning. That I’d never felt like that before.”
Xander set the phone aside. “Good,” he said. “I think Dante was right about people who feel sexy being better in bed, but I’m not sure I ever want to tell him.”
I laughed. “So you’ve been flattering me all this time for better sex?”
“Well it’s working,” Xander said, grinning at me. “And it’s not flattery if it’s true. My knees nearly gave out on me when you walked into my bakery and I didn’t even know then that you were the boy I’d had a crush on for months.”
“Months?” I asked.
Xander shrugged. “You had me at hello,” he said. “Before that, even. I actually squealed the first time you talked to me. Dante heard it, you can ask him.”
“I might,” I teased, smiling up at him. “Do I make you feel sexy?” I asked, reaching out to trail my fingers over his skin, skimming over the planes and dipping into the valleys of his incredible body.
