I growl under my breath, moving closer to him. “I’m not sure a few weeks is enough time to get to everything I want to do to you, but fine.”
Nicholas laughs under his breath, quivering slightly. Even though my emotions are best stuffed down in a pit, there’s no hiding our physical attraction. I make sure Nicholas knows exactly how much he turns me on, and I have no doubts he feels the same way.
He slides against me. One leg goes over mine, and when I stretch my arm across the back of the couch, he finds his place.
“There’s one obvious thing we’re building up to,” Nicholas says, and his hand traces down my arm. “Do you want to fuck me?”
Blood rushes through me.
Tonight is not a date night, I remind myself. I’m just helping drop his groceries off.
“If you’re asking me to spend the next three weeks fucking you, the answer is yes.”
Nicholas grins. “What else do you want?” he asks.
I consider his question. “I’m past experimenting. I know I’m bi. I know I like touching your body. And I’m not really interested in bottoming. That doesn’t feel right to me, although hell, what do I even know about myself, really? Except I think I actually do know that I don’t want that.”
I realize I’m losing the thread and take a swig of cider.
Nicholas hums softly, nuzzling close to me. “That’s fine. You don’t have to want anything you don’t want.”
I take in a deep inhale of his scent, and decide to try to be brave and honest, like he is.
What else do I want from the next three weeks, my last time with Nicholas?
“I’m curious about this,” I tell him and pull him a little closer. “What we’re doing now.”
He tilts his eyes up to me. “Cuddling?”
I snort. “No.”
I’m not asking for cuddles. That’s absolutely not what I’m saying because no.
“Slowing down,” I try again. “Seeing what it’s like to be up close when we’re not focused on our dicks.”
I don’t even know how to say it. But I know it’s the kind of thing that won’t be so easy to find after I leave. Not as easy as a quick hookup.
Couldn’t imagine doing this kind of thing with anyone but Nicholas, actually.
“I like slowing down,” Nicholas says. He sits up. “Just touching. Can I take your shirt off?”
I blink. Am I about to get laid?
“For slow touching,” he says, reading my mind. “Nothing more than some skin contact.”
My heart is beating in my ears. “Okay.”
Nicholas pulls my shirt off, gently tossing it aside. A second later, his shirt comes off, too, and he curls against me, bare chest to bare chest.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs. “This isn’t a cuddle.”
I cough out a laugh. “Good,” I say, pulling him closer. “I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
Nicholas takes in a deep breath, and I feel it through my body as he lets it out slowly. I ease into a more comfortable position, and we stay like that, sprawled on the bright couch, houseplants around us.
And yeah. This is the kind of thing I’m still curious about. Because I don’t know that I’ve felt this way before.
“What’s left on your list?” I ask. “You can’t keep me guessing forever about your fantasies.”
