Page 329 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

The sleek Phantom slips into traffic

as the partition slides up.

The city falls mute around us,

and I start at his throat,

undoing the top button,

then the next, one by one.

He sinks back into the seat,

palms inching up my thighs,

head falling against the headrest,

a man completely undone.

And as I undress him,

he’s paralyzed by my fragile touch,

his dark gaze heavy and loaded

and tracking my every move.

A song drifts through the cabin,

voice climbing wounded,

piano floating on an ache.

The starlight roof overhead

casts tiny diamonds on our skin,

dancing along my fingers,

drifting over his jaw.

They follow my hands

as they slide down his buttons,

and when I bare his chest,

he holds his breath,

a man so painfully human.

I glance up,

never seeing him so nervous.

“Breathe, Andrew,” I murmur, pushing the shirt off his broad shoulders.

His chest caves with a long exhale.