“Take a shower.”
“I’m not dirty,” Nicholas points out. “I showered after the game, before we left to come home.”
“Yeah, I know but—you smell different.”
“My toiletry bag got lost on the second day and I had to borrow Tony’s shit. He uses fucking two in one body wash and shampoo.”
“I don’t like it,” Andrew says. “I like when you smell likeyou.”
A soft growl of pleasure rumbles out of Nicholas’s chest at the idea that Andrew likes his scent. He was going to shower regardless because Andrew, who never asks for anything, asked him to, but knowing why has him even more eager.
“Are you going to change?”
“Yeah, but—” Andrew pulls back, cheeks flushed. He really does look two seconds away from passing out. “I wanna shower first.”
“Use my stuff,” Nicholas demands. “I wanna smell myself on you.”
“You going to rub yourself on me, too? Piss on me to stake your claim?”
“You into piss?”
“If you ever pissed on me, it’d be the last time you ever saw me,” Andrew says, his indignation kind of adorable.
“Noted. No pissing. I noticed you didn’t say I couldn’t rub my naked body on you.”
“If you wanted,” Andrew says, the red flush to his cheeks spreading down his neck.
“Princess,” Nicholas growls, crowding into his personal space with both hands on his face, “you like me claiming you.”
It’s not a question, and Andrew doesn’t answer, at least not verbally. The tiny shudder he releases though, the widening of his eyes and the way he leans into Nicholas’s touch, says it all.
Andrew King ishisand he likes it.
“After you shower, I want you to put on my clothes.”
“I have my own clothes,” Andrew says, the protest half-hearted at best.
“I want you to smell like me. Every inch of you. My shampoo, my body wash, my clothes, and then my sheets. Because you’remine.”
“Caveman,” Andrew grumbles, those gorgeous brown eyes of his half-lidded as his fingers smooth down Nicholas’s spine.
How has no one else seen what a perfect fucking creature this man is? So controlled, so particular, yet so ready to allow Nicholas to take a little bit of that control in private when he lets his mask fall. Nicholas might not be sure if he deserves Andrew, but like fuck is that going to stop him. He’s going to spoil this man, adore this man, and figure out how the fuck to be worthy of keeping him.
“You’re mine, princess. I told you I don’t share what’s mine.”
“And I told you, there’s no one lining up to share,” Andrew says in a tone that’s far too self-deprecating for Nicholas’s liking.
“Shower with me.”
Expecting a refusal, and perfectly prepared to accept it, he’s taken by surprise when Andrew nods. “Alright.”
Not one to question things, he grabs Andrew’s ass and hefts him up, smiling to himself when Andrew’s long legs wrap around his waist, even as he splutters.
“What the hell, Nicki.”
“We’re showering.”
“I can walk.”
