He pulled back just enough to look at me, blue eyes dark, jaw tight. Sleeves already rolled up his forearms like they always were now, the sight doing ridiculous things to me.
“Yes,” he said simply. “I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Since the kid called us boyfriends?”
“Since before the kid.” His hands slid down my sides, tugging my shirt up and off in one smooth motion. “I said boyfriend out loud. To a stranger. And then your hand found mine and we walked like that and I thought… this is what it’s supposed to feel like.” He swallowed, forehead resting against mine for a second. “And then I thought about the room. About getting you in that tub and taking my time.”
I made a low, helpless sound and kissed him harder, walking him the rest of the way until the backs of his thighs hit the tub.Clothes hit the floor in a messy trail—his shirt, my jeans, his pants, until we were both naked and the water was high enough.
He watched me step into the water like he didn't want to blink and miss it.
Nathan shut off the faucet, then stepped in too, sinking down into the deep, steaming water with a low exhale that went straight to my dick.
I was not patient. This was a known quantity about me. I had never once in my life been patient and I was not going to start now, in a hotel bathroom, withmy boyfriendstepping into a bathtub.
I straddled his lap immediately, and the heat of the water and the heat of his body hit me at once. His cock was already hard, thick and flushed, pressing up against my ass as I settled on him. I rocked down once, grinding, and his hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise.
"Hi," I said.
"You said that already," he said.
"I know." I rolled my hips, once, just to see what happened. "I'm saying it again."
What happened was his hands gripped my hips and his head went back and he made the sound.Thesound. The one I had been thinking about since the first time I heard it in my apartment, the one that I was apparently going to be thinking about for the rest of my natural life, lower and more unguarded than anything Nathan let out in any other context.
I was so in love with him it was genuinely alarming.
"Boyfriend," I said, into his mouth. "You said boyfriend."
"Wesley—"
"To a child." I kissed him. "In public." Another kiss. "Without checking anything first."
He groaned, the sound deep and unguarded, hands sliding up my back to pull me closer. “Wesley.”
His voice cracked on my name, and then he was kissing me like he was starving for it—messy, open-mouthed, tongue fucking into my mouth in slow, deliberate strokes that matched the way his hips rolled up against me.
I threaded my fingers through his wet black hair, tugging just enough to tilt his head back so I could suck at the strong line of his throat.
His hands were everywhere—cupping my ass, spreading me open, one slick finger teasing my hole before sliding inside with perfect, unhurried pressure. I moaned loud, grinding down onto that single finger while our mouths crashed together again.
The kiss turned filthy fast. Tongues tangling, spit-slick and desperate, little gasps and wet sounds echoing off the tiles. I could feel every inch of him under me—broad shoulders, hard chest, the way his abs flexed every time I rocked against him. His free hand wrapped around both our cocks, stroking us together in the hot water, thumb swiping over the heads on every upstroke until I was whimpering into his mouth.
“Nathan—fuck—” I panted, breaking the kiss only to rest my forehead against his, brown eyes locked on blue. The steam made everything hazy and intimate, evening light slanting through the cracked window and catching on the droplets clinging to his lashes. “I love you.”
“I know,” he said, voice gravelly, finger crooking inside me to press against my prostate.
“Nathan.”
His mouth curved, that small, smug, devastating smile. “I love you too. Obviously.”
“You have to stop saying obviously.”
“It’s accurate,” he murmured, adding a second finger and scissoring them slowly, stretching me open while his other hand kept stroking us in that perfect, maddening rhythm. “And it’s true.”
“It’s smug.”
"Those aren't mutually exclusive," he said, and kissed me again before I could tell him he was right, deep and slow and thorough, the Nathan version, like he had decided this was worth his complete attention and once Nathan Cross decided something he did it right.
