I look down at the briefs. “Yeah, aren’t they cool?”
“If you’re six, I suppose.” His eyes narrow. “You have the wrong day on.”
I shrug. “Well, that’s just me, I’m afraid. Carefree and debonair as the day is long.”
“Or just not very good at laundry.”
My laugh is far too loud, and his mouth twitches, but he immediately snaps a few pictures of my face. That sobers me. I almost want to tell him not to focus on me when I laugh. It’s when I’m at my most vulnerable.
Ever perceptive, he stops. “You okay? Want me to stop?”
I smile at him, unable to hide my affection. He’s just always so careful of me. Always asking if I want him to stop. Always checking if I’m alright. I’ve spent my life searching for this sort of attention and never managed to find it. It’s more special to me than he’ll ever know.
But as I watch him track my features, I think maybe he does know. He has a knack for decoding me. Probably because he studies me more intently than the codebreakers did with the Enigma machine.
“I’m fine,” I say firmly. “Where do you want me?”
His eyes have become dark and full of want. “On the bed,” he says hoarsely.
I swallow hard, and the whole room seems to still.
I settle on the mattress, lying back and looking up at him as he takes the picture. He sets one knee on the mattress, depressing it so I roll slightly to him.
I can’t see his face, which suddenly bothers me. It’s like his attention is somewhere else, so I raise my hand and pull at my nipple ring, hearing his soft intake of breath with satisfaction.
“Xavier,” he warns, and I shoot him an innocent look.
“What?”
“I’m keeping this decent.”
I gesture down my body and bug my eyes out.
His lip quirks. “I’m only taking pictures of your torso and face, not your cock.”
“Why not? It’s the best part of me.”
His face clouds the way it does when I say anything derogatory about myself. “No, it isn’t,” he says immediately, and it makes my whole chest feel mushy and warm, which won’t do at all.
“Don’t you want to take pictures of my cock?” I say, shooting him a cajoling smile. “He might feel left out.”
His mouth is still set in a firm line, but he can’t hide the heat in his eyes. “Xavier, you can’t offer to do that,” he immediately chides. I’d have put money on him having an objection to this. “Nude pictures are a surefire way to fuck up your life.”
“But it’syou,” I say in a small voice. “You’d never hurt me like that, would you?”
“No, of course not,” he says, setting his camera down and running a finger over my face. It hovers near my lips, and I make my mouth into an exaggerated pout to make him laugh. When he does, I take his finger and suck on it, watching the laughter fade like the sun into night.
I release his finger with a pop. “Do youwantto?” I ask breathily.
There are a few seconds of hesitation. “Yes,” he finally says, and it’s like a starting gun on my cock.
I lower my hand and run my fingers loosely over my dick, which is chubbing up nicely. His eyes linger and flare with heat, and I reach out, kicking his leg gently. “Aren’t you supposed to be photographing this?”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says darkly. “I know it.”
“Hopefully not right now. I have an agenda.”
His lip twitches. “When don’t you?”
