Blindly Yours

33 | All of you

?? ?????? ??

I brush my fingers across the table, eyes trickling over Nolan's boxes of camera things. It doesn't matter how many times I've been in this room before, something new is always catching my attention. Right now, it's the tray of technical-looking objects I think might be lenses.

"These look expensive," I say, to no one in particular, picking one up and rotating it between my fingers.

Nolan glances over from where he's adjusting a tripod, amusement flooding his face.

"They are."

I nod, placing it back down amongst the others. It's late, probably too late to be wandering around his home studio, but after we watched TV he insisted he had to fix some things. Instead of staying put like he told me to, I couldn't help but follow him.

This world, his world, is so alien to me. I don't look at it and understand the rules, the structure, the order. But he does. He snaps into focus like it's all he's ever done, lets it take over his brain in a way nothing else really has.

"And your cameras?" I add, eyeing the two placed carefully nearby.

"Nearly made me go broke," He mutters, only slightly joking, "I'm saving for a third one, hopefully, a real old vintage one."

"That's cool," I reply, unsure what else to say. It is cool, and interesting and something that clearly means a lot to him. That suddenly makes it mean a lot to me, too.

I take a few more strides across the room, white walls and huge lights piercing into my tired eyes. With the lights on overhead everything reflects brighter, it verges on giving me a headache. I don't know how Nolan spends so much time in here.

I'm nearly back to his side, pretty ready to wrap my arms around his waist and drag him into a kiss, but pause when my eyes catch a familiar box on the ground. It's exactly where it was last time, dark-green and wearing at the corners.

It's in my hands before I can think, brain wanting to pick apart every part of him filtered through the photos. They're not just good, they reveal fragments of his life that he doesn't share openly. I don't know about college or anything else in between, this gathers some of those scattered pieces.

The noise of the lid opening draws Nolan's attention back to me immediately. His eyebrows draw together as if to say, really?

"You've seen those already," He says, matter-of-factly.

"And I want to see them again," I hum, "Unless you're embarrassed?"

His eyes narrow, not fully giving in to my challenging, "It's not embarrassing, it's just...I don't get it. They're nothing special."

They're special to me.

I only catch a few faded colours, blurry shots and artistic portraits before the box is stolen from my grip, leaving my arms out aimlessly and gripping at nothing except the space between me and Nolan. In a flash, he's cornered me, punched the oxygen from my lungs, smothered me with his closeness.

"Is this another one of your distractions," I murmur, losing all conviction.

If it is, it's working.

His fingers hold firm at my waist, pulling me inwards as I tilt up to stare at him. The air crackles, heat burning up too fast. I suddenly don't care about what I was going to do, I just need him to hold me like this forever.

"You're always a distraction."

I shake my head. Maybe in disbelief, maybe because I don't want him to stop talking.

"One day I'm going to find out all your secrets and unravel you completely," I say, like a vow, a promise. It feels like the end goal, the thing I want from him most. "No more hiding, no more leaving me in the dark."

His hands yank me closer, our chests threatening to touch now. The way he looks at me, like he can't quite believe what I'm saying, temporarily distracts me from the heat burner lower between us both.

"Are you now?" He challenges.

He doesn't deny it.

I nod, rolling my hips ever so gently. The bulge that meets the space between my thighs is unmistakable and growing. Heat floods down my core, rushes to my brain at lightning speed. I lean my lips forward, painfully slowly, until they meet the crest of Nolan's ear.

"If you want me, completely, you can't hoard secrets forever," I whisper, charged on burning confidence, "You want that, don't you? To fuck me, to make me come... to make me yours."

His only response is a low, guttural groan that nearly makes me pass out on the spot. It reverbs through my brain, catches on every single response system I have. My thighs clench, throat swallows, teeth bite my lower lip. My control fades instantly, melted into a puddle by nothing but a noise.

Then his hands are scooped under my thighs and I jump up instinctively, legs clasping around him as he holds me up in the air.

Our lips crash together, hotter and hungrier than any time before.

There's no wait, no build up. It's just wet noises, tongues fighting for devouring dominance, lips crushed together with brutal attraction.

I snake my hands up to his face, holding him against me.

He cradles me against his dick, giving me access to roll my hipsharder now.

And I do, almost frantically, chasing the pleasure running through my veins.

I swipe the inside of his mouth, tangle my tongue in his, kiss him so hard my vision pulses at the edges.

My pussy gushes, wet heat reacting every time he draws me in further.

I pull away with eyes probably drunken on lust, only to murmur, "Bedroom," before diving back in.

He nods, still attached to me. I make reckless sounds into his mouth as he stumbles backwards, meeting me with his own deep hums. One hand leaves my waist to turn off the light and for a second, he's got me firmly slotted in one hand. It doesn't bother him and I know he won't drop me.

"Fuck, Ava, slow down," He hisses, like he doesn't really want to be saying it.

I drag myself away as slow as I can, running my tongue over his bottom lip, "What?"

His eyes flick down to where we're adjoined, to where my skirt is bunched up again and you can just make out a flash of pink panties grinding desperately against his straining bulge. I kill it, for a second, my body immediately mourning the loss.

"You want me to come in my fucking pants, hm?"

I nod, "Maybe."

He chuckles, lowly, moving again and directing us to the room next door.

His bedroom. The grey sheets come into view, the lamp giving the room a shadowy, yellow hue.

I focus my attention on kissing him, on running my hands up into that velvet hair and guiding his face into mine at a delicious pace.

His heels hit the foot of the bed as I try (and fail) to slow down my built-up urges that have been trying to escape all night. I can tell he's going to turn around, place me on my back and take that strong position over me. My wrists practically flutter with the memory of him pinning me down.

But I have other ideas.

I slip my legs from his grip quickly. He's caught off guard, so I drop easily. The second my feet touch the rug I press both hands on his chest and push him onto his ass, body landing on the end of the bed.

He blinks up at me, half curious, half trying to put the pieces together before I act. But he can't hide the fire, wild and rugged, as it tears through his pupils, looks at me like something worth savouring forever.

I should say something sexy again, sweep him off his feet, but I notice something suddenly.

"You got a rug?"

He frowns, watching the way my eyes move down at it, then just shrugs, "You told me to invest in some decor."

And he listened!?

I'm surprised for a small, fleeting moment, then my eyes latch back onto the scene in front of me.

Nolan sitting there, thighs casually spread, hair messy and lips kiss-swollen.

The grand prize, the only place my gaze can settle on, is the tent poking out his pants.

It's insistent, big and my mouth threatens to water.

I don't want to leave it to the imagination anymore.

"Be honest," I hum, watching him watch me, "Did you get the rug for this?"

An eyebrow arches, "For what?"

I sink to my knees in a second, skin touching the soft material. My hands run up and clasp possessively over his thighs. I spread my fingers teasingly, running small circles over the fabric as he eyes me with bated breath.

"Shit," He whispers, so quiet I almost miss it.

I widen my eyes seductively, flicking strands of hair over one shoulder.

I'm challenging something powerful, the version of me who feels good.

I feel electric under Nolan's gaze, in control as I tease my fingers dangerously close to his zipper.

And the way he's reduced to silence consumes me whole. His lips part, saying nothing.

"You gonna tell me what you want?" I tease, "Or am I the only one who has to beg?"

He's genuinely speechless for a second. I know he'll play it off, act like it's all intentional, but I catch those moments he has not one single smart comeback. Satisfaction blooms through my chest.

"Ava..." is all he mutters.

"You know what?" I murmur, dragging my hands upwards. I press one palm over his bulge insistently, applying enough pressure that he represses another groan, "I'll help you with this bit."

I'd like to think I know what I'm doing when really I'm just desperate to feel him in my hand. I want to watch him lose control - even the thought is stirring heat between my thighs.

My finger grips the zipper, pulling it down teasingly, revealing the boner strained against his boxers. It's intimidating, and that's without seeing it in all its glory. I get his pants to his ankles then turn my attention up, eyeing the sight in front of me.

"Poor thing," I mutter, palming him with my hand harder this time.

Instead of a groan Nolan comes out with a tortured sentence, "You are actually trying to kill me."

I cup my hands around the length, squeezing tightly and strangling away whatever words were going to come from him next. Then my fingers slip under the waistband, dragging the material down carefully, slow enough to let me savour the moment.

His erection springs up, hard, big and flushed. My hand tightens around the thick length, fingers already trailing their way to the blossoming tip beading with pre-cum. The touch sends sparks through my skin, pooling all the way low in my belly.

I drag my hand upwards in one experimental stroke, tilting my head up to watch the way his eyes bear into me completely.

I can tell he wants to throw his head back but he's resisting, opting to watch my every movement instead.

It's fucking intense, his pupils flashing darker than I've ever seen them.

"What do you want, hm?" I whisper, slowly stroking him again. I squeeze enough that his breath comes out heavy, but not enough that he gets that pleasure he wants so badly.

He narrows his eyes, "Really?"

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

He huffs out a strained laugh, littered with disbelief. I meet that by dragging my teasing hand higher and swirling the bead of pre-cum across the head, painfully slowly. His hips thrust up, so gently, but so noticeable it makes a smile spread cheek to cheek across my face.

"Where the fuck did this come from, pretty girl?" He asks, more of a question for himself. The last words come out as a sort of choke.

"Payback," I murmur, still working him as he watches every move of my wrist, "Don't dish out what you can't take."

He swallows, face flushed, fingers gripping tighter into the bedsheets. But his face is a mix of pride, pleasure, surprise and unwavering heat. I press my thumb into the head harder, wrap my fingers tighter, drag with more burning pressure down the length of his shaft.

He doesn't reply, so I prompt him instead.

"Do you want me to suck your cock, Winters?"

His brows raise a fraction, his dick fucking twitches in my hand. The words are dirty and raw and I don't know if he expected them at all. It's the Winters that got him, though, that rewired his brain entirely. I still play innocent, watching as he squirms internally.

Then, he nods. Every fleck of hazel burns, bleeds with want, need. Desperation is written all over his face. I reward him by squeezing my hand tighter around him then, I lean down and kiss the very tip of his dick, so gently it could mean nothing.

But it means everything.

"Words," I say, mocking every time he's said that to me.

"Oh my- fuck," He chokes out, blinking in surrender, "Yes, Ava, I want you to suck my cock."

I give him a wide, Cheshire Cat smile of approval, loving the way he's broken down under my touch. Then, because he's not the only desperate one, I lean in to the base of his dick, dragging my tongue up from bottom to tip.

He shudders under the touch, letting me stroke him with my tongue a few more times. The way his breath rests heavy, more obvious in the silence, spreads a jolt arousal between my thighs.

Eventually, I take the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue before sinking down completely. His length buries into my mouth, thick as my lips stretch. The salty taste of pre-cum smears into my cheeks, mixing with heat and desire as I let him consume me completely.

I suck my mouth off slowly with a small pop noise.

When I take him in again I force myself deeper, let my throat flutter helplessly around his dick.

I stop just before the point of gagging, letting my body adjust to every inch in my mouth.

I keep bobbing my head, up and down, swallowing him over and over again.

The fire between us burns, my body prickles with goosebumps.

"You look so beautiful like this," Nolan murmurs, voice stripped back to something rawer, more primal, "You take me so fucking well, Ava."

The praise actually makes my clit throb, my thighs clasping together in a desperate attempt to gain some sort of friction. Burning pressure soaks into my brain, explodes as I moan desperately around his cock. I'm not really thinking, my brain imploding with overwhelming desire.

The vibration of my whimper makes Nolan swear under his breath again, strained and deep. His hips lift off the bed ever so slightly, thrusting lightly into my throat, forcing me to take him deeper. I do, saliva forming on my lips as my mouth curls around him.

Suddenly, one of his hands moves from the bed and I don't feel it until it snakes into my hair, firm, gentle and commanding all at once.

The sudden feeling makes me pause, for a small second, my brain short-circuiting.

His possession rips through me, makes another desperate noise escape across the head of his dick.

"Don't stop," He commands, watching me with wild fire in his eyes.

I blink, pulling myself off him completely. I can feel a line of salvia streak my chin, messy in all the best ways. I can't decide whether to give in or say something bratty again. His fingers tighten in my hair, touch overwhelmingly reverent.

"You're gonna let me fuck your mouth, okay?" He drawls.

Yes, please.

My thighs twitch as a pool of heat drools down them slowly. Nolan glances down to my skirt, eyes brushing my revealed thighs.

He noticed. He noticed how much his words turn me on.

"You like it when I say all the things I want to do to you? My needy fucking girl," He continues with a sort of mocking tone, "Are you going to take everything I give you? Choke on my cock like a good girl?"

I still don't say anything, brain unable to conjure up any sentence that seems appropriate right now. I'm so wet it practically hurts. Nolan's cock stays upright, flushed and tempting in front of me.

I must nod or come out with some sort of agreement-adjacent whine because Nolan's eyes darken, one of his hands reaching out to brush my lower lip, "Ava, baby, I'm going to need to hear you say it."

It seems silly that I was teasing him not so long ago. The power has flipped back to him and remarkably, I'm not really mad that it has.

I nod, firmly now, "Yes...you can fuck my face."

He grins, immediately, jaw clenching in satisfaction.

It's barely two seconds before the hand in my hair guides me back down onto his dick, every inch swallowed brutally into my throat.

It's gentle touch at first, a direction, touch that sends shockwaves through me.

Every time I pull upwards he's right there to make me sink back down again, stretching my lips wider as I give in.

I hollow my cheeks, my tongue dances, my body hums with pleasure.

It's overwhelming in ways I never thought possible.

When I bob my head again Nolan holds me down, my throat fluttering as my nose brushes his pelvis.

I'm held there for a second, so full, gagging on his dick. Fireworks explode behind my eyes.

Then his hand moves faster, more intentionally. There's control behind it. His hips thrust up in a rhythm that reduces my sucking to choked sobs, every roll of his hips meeting my throat. I sound so desperate and messy as he uses me. He's fucking my face now, properly.

Spit slicks my lips as I take him deeper and when he buries himself to the hilt again I suck him down as hard as I can, blinking up to watch the pleasure coarse through his face.

He's been watching me this entire time, mesmerised by himself disappearing down my throat.

He groans so deep it ripples through me.

I can tell he's close.

His thrusts are sloppier, his fingers can't hold me down with the same strength, he bites back a moan every time I swirl my tongue in the right way. He's falling apart.

"Fuck, Ava-" He growls, like he wants to say everything and nothing at the same time, "You're amazing, you...you look so fucking perfect."

I keep letting him use me, everything working on autopilot. I can wait to feel him let go completely, watch the tension shatter in his eyes as he comes.

All of a sudden he pulls himself off with a hissed curse, "Fuck."

I freeze, wide-eyed as I blink up at him. My lips are wet and little-swollen. I can imagine the mascara beneath my eyes and messy hair I probably have right now. I wipe away that string of saliva, tilting my head.

"What?"

"I want to be inside you."

Oh.

As soon as I comprehend the words he's lifting me up off my knees and crashing me into his mouth at lightning speed.

He tastes like musk and him and something delicious that curls low in my belly.

The wetness leaking between my thighs is suddenly so much more obvious, rubbing together as I'm dragged over his thighs and onto his lap.

I kiss him harder, battling our tongues together as our hands start to frantically paw at clothes that seem really unnecessary in this moment.

There's no resistance, barely any words, just burning friction as we devour each other.

I scramble to grip the bottom of his shirt, finally pulling it off and revealing that olive-toned chest I've been daydreaming about.

My hands begin to roam every crevice of solid skin as soon as I see it, drifting across the ridges that are warm under my touch.

Nolan's hands work to do the same, pulling my own top off and leaving me in my bra.

The coolness of the air hits me, that and the realisation that this is the first time I've been this revealed in front of him.

I also let him eat me out on the kitchen counter a few hours ago.

But I don't have time to feel self-conscious. Nolan moves away from my mouth, littering kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, then finding the top of my breasts, every touch like a spark of fire keeping me alive. His hands find my waist, holding me still.

"Beautiful," He murmurs against my skin, "So god damn beautiful."

The words send more jolts of pleasure through my body and I fight the urge to roll my hips. His dick is still there and uncovered, brushing up against my skirt and I can only think one thing: I want him inside me too.

In our whirlpool of manic hands and intoxicating kisses my skirt disappears, chucked across the room probably.

Air brushes across my thighs and Nolan's hands are firmly reaching to undo my bra.

It's still hesitant, like he's asking a question.

I have no doubt he could unhook it in a second if he wanted to.

"It's okay," I murmur into his mouth without him ever having to say the words.

It falls away instantly.

His lips trace the exposed skin, coming down to my nipples, stiff in the cool air.

My head slumps into his shoulder as he sucks on the peaks, drags his tongue across every sensitive nerve.

I think he's muttering more things, incoherent praise, but my mind is too far away from earth to make sense of it.

Impatiently, my hands snake down and pull off my own panties. No slow wait, no controlled precision like earlier - I'm hungrier than ever. Nolan does the same, kicking off his pants and boxers now pooled at his ankles. It happens in a blur and slow motion at the same time.

Then we're naked, tension exploding at the roof. The only thing left is to feel him inside me and fuck do I want to feel that.

There's a crinkle as Nolan pulls a condom out from somewhere and rips it open. He slides it over his length.

"Was that in your pocket?" I muse, too distracted to really care.

"I'm prepared," He hums back, "I invited you over, didn't I?"

I can't say anything back before our lips meet again and my hips lift on their own, one hand gripping back around Nolan's cock and lining it up beneath my entrance. He reaches out a hand, pushing hair carefully over my shoulder, then dragging his eyes to where I'm still hovering.

His pupils flash with undeniable need, scan me once over before I push down onto the head.

It practicallyenvelops me. Then, I sink down further, every inch of him stretching the walls of my pussy.

I let out an exhale of breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding, letting the sensation of him eat me alive.

My hips roll, once, twice, a third time.

The pleasure shoots through me, every nerve jolting at being split open on his cock.

My arms fall over his shoulders, pressing tighter every time I rise up and take him deeper.

My voice has devolved into moans, most of which are captured in his mouth and met with similar, throaty noises.

I feel like I've lost all control of my senses. There's just Nolan beneath me, around me, holding me tight as my pussy flutters and squirms. It's electrifying.

"Not like this," He groans suddenly, "I won't last."

I'm flipped over before I can process it.

My back hits the bed, cushioning the motion and Nolan's on top, caging me in immediately.

His strong arms stand tall beside me, one already moving to line himself up again.

His knee pushes my thighs further apart in my stunned frozen second.

I can feel myself exposed in front of him, but when he presses a gentle kiss to my lips, murmurs something reassuring, I know this is all I've ever wanted to be.

When he pushes in I throw my head back, feeling myself clench against his length.

It feels too big all over again in this new position.

But he goes slow, slides in until he bottoms out.

The fullness is mid-boggling, another whine slipping from my lips.

Nolan's tilted down to look at me fully. ..he likes watching me.

"You good?" He groans. I can tell he's not moving so he'll last longer and that makes a giddy smile break across my face. I'm doing this to him.

I nod as best I can, "Never better."

He moves again after a second, thrusts punishing movements that seem to sink deeper every time. The coil in my belly tightens, spirals, melts with everything he gives me. Time floats away, every second absorbed by the way he's pounding me with his cock.

My arms, still around his neck, drag him down lower, forcing him to kiss me again.

Our tongues slide together, making similar obscene noises to the ones coming from my pussy.

He drives harder, hitting the spots that make my vision sparkle at the edges over and over again.

At some point my legs reach up, clenching around his waist and angling him down deeper.

"Do you know how fucking amazing you feel?" Nolan groans, using one arm to pull my legs a bit higher around him so they loosely cross at the back.

"What?" I murmur, almost losing my train of thought as he pushes his cock into my core, "What,fuck...do I feel like?"

"Like my brain is collapsing in on itself..."

Thrust.

"...like nothing else will ever compare to being inside you..."

Thrust.

"...like you're the only fucking thing my body's ever needed to survive."

Fuck, that's so hot.

The pit in my belly dangles on the edge of explosion, my vision blurring at the edges.

I can't hold on much longer, my legs almost losing their grip on Nolan's waist. My pussy clenches, desperate, dripping and still taking every inch of him.

His finger now circling my clit makes my brain scramble, everything fuzzy as I try to spit some words out.

"I...can't..."

"I know, baby," Nolan croons, smoothing one hand down the side of my cheek, "Just hold on a little longer, okay? I want to feel it with you."

I don't know how I do it, pressure has already built up to the point my voice is wordless sobs, my arms are pressing into Nolan's shoulders hard enough to leave marks, my body is a trembling mess.

But somehow, I hold on longer, letting Nolan's thrusts turn messy.

His voice shakes as he chases his own release, hips eventually shooting back in with a final, halted thrust.

"Go on, pretty girl, give me what you have."

And I do. My legs shake, voice tears into something between a moan and a scream, arms drag him down so he nearly collapses over my shoulder.

The white hot sparks melt with his, tangled into a ball as he finishes inside me, voice muffled up against my ear.

Just that noise makes the aftershocks last longer, makes my legs keep trembling.

Nolan stays buried in me, just as overwhelmed.

The world starts to bleed back to life, but different.

Quieter. Our heartbeats rattle together, our skin sticks together with the sinful truth of everything we just did.

We're still connected, still together and somehow it feels more vulnerable than the actual fucking.

"Jesus," He says eventually, pushing himself back up over me, "What just happened?"

I don't know what to do, or say, or think.

For some reason that makes me laugh, a gentle one with shaky breath but the smile on my face is unmistakable. And the actual joy, the comfort, the safety, it lingers. It feels scarily permanent...like I should expect it.

My heart actually throbs when Nolan returns the smile. His hair is all messy in a sex-ravaged way and the look in his eyes makes me think he's just as dishevelled as me. It's unfairly attractive.

"That funny to you?"

"Very."

He just tuts softly, like he can barely come up with words to say. Warmth sticks between our skin, the particles in the air seem softer. His hand travels back up to my face and strokes a thumb over my cheek again. It steadies me, firmly gentle like all his touch.

"I think I'm just going to stay in you forever." He whispers, leaning down to where our lips almost touch.

I tilt my head, hair splayed out on the sheets beneath me, "Are you obsessed with me, Winters? Sounds like you might be."

"I shouldn't have told you about the last name thing."

He's right, I'm going to use it against him forever now. Even just me saying it has made his jaw clench harder, his eyes bear deeper into mine.

"You have your nicknames," I muse, talking into his mouth at this point, "Pretty girl? You like that one."

"I like it because it's true, you are my pretty girl."

My pretty girl. I can feel the line of blush across my cheeks, the heat of flush up my neck. It feels so personal, so true - especially when he kisses me directly after saying it.

It's a different kiss. So slow, our lips falling into a delayed rhythm like they're cherishing every second of the contact.

His tongue slides against mine, exploring, lapping at my lip gently.

My chest rattles with something bigger than just lust or attraction.

It's that comfort, that kiss that erases all of my worries.

When he drags away my words are gone for the millionth time.

"You drive me crazy, really fucking crazy. I think I've already lost my mind."

I chuckle, "You'll lose it even more if you stay inside me for any longer."

"In that case, maybe I'm happy to be a madman."

"You're so stupid," I murmur back, wondering how the same guy I used to be scared of can be this insanely cheesy.

He pulls out reluctantly, pulling himself off me and sorting himself out.

I reach over for his discarded t-shirt and shove it over my head, letting it fall to mid thigh.

His musky, woody scent rubs against my skin, consumes my senses, lets me melt in him even more.

When my eyes flick back up he's dragging on some shorts but his chest is still out, shiny and spectacular.

"We should shower."

I raise my brows, "We?"

"Yes," He affirms, playful smile already back in action, "We."

He's right, and the firm tone slipping through his voice tells me immediately, I'd have no real choice anyway.

I know I'm still ridden with the smell of sex and musk and everything else that comes with it.

But I'm also worried a shower would wash away everything else, the afterglow warmth, the calmness in the air.

"In a little bit," I say, more of a question, "I want to...chill first."

Nolan nods firmly, "Of course, as long as you get in at some point."

I roll my eyes faintly, but at this point it feels like a term of endearment. I'd be lying if I said his constant care for me didn't make me feel more stable than I have in years. I hope he knows that.

Suddenly, my phone pings faintly. It's been in here at some point but is now probably buried under some piece of discarded clothing. After a few seconds I find it on the floor, under my bra. I only mean to check it quickly, make sure it's not an emergency, but the text catches me off guard again.

Unknown number: Hey, Jason, again. Just thought I'd send you the link to our magazine and some of the ideas for the next shoot, you can find it all here. Still hoping you'll consider getting involved. Thanks.

My face must contort into something confused or appalled because I can feel Nolan's frown without looking up. He's closer, right at the edge of the bed by the time I look up.

"You sure you're okay?" He hums, referencing my same jitter earlier.

I wonder what he's thinking. Does he think I'm lying about it being my dad?

I don't like that. And I don't want to lie to him either. Maybe it's the mush my brain has become after sex, or the way he just touched me like he'll understand every problem I've ever had, but I suddenly don't want to keep this from him.

I think he can handle my stupid photo dilemma.

"It's...another photo opportunity," The honesty falls off my tongue easier than I thought it would, "For a magazine. I don't know what to do."

He seems surprised for a fraction of a second but it settles into something else, ease. Like he knows exactly what to say, exactly how to crush the thoughts swirling in my head.

"I'd want you for my magazine too," He murmurs, arms planted down beside me as he leans in closer, "And I think you should do it, I've told you before, the camera loves you."

I lock eyes with him, trying to read his pupils as best I can. It's annoying that they seem so truthful, that he believes every word coming from his mouth. My brain echoes back the things he said only a few days after he came home.You might just be my muse.

"You're so scared of being perceived that you can't appreciate how beautiful you look, Ava," He asserts, voice quieter, "Every time I look at you through that lens you're basically glowing."

"You would say that, I'm your muse."

That makes him pause and something flickers through his expression for a brief moment.

Like we're in the past for a second.

Everything is so different now. I'm not the girl he liked behind the camera, I'm the girl he just slept with, the girl wearing his top in his apartment.

One of his hands has started stroking soft circles on my thigh and his eyes keep dipping towards my lips.

I've somehow let him see every part of me I keep locked away.

This isn't psycho brother Nolan or taking photos for his website Nolan.

This is my Nolan, whatever version of him I've seemed to unlock.

And all it does is make me wonder how much of the past bleeds into the present.

Did he always want this? Is that why he wanted to take photos of me in the first place?

Is that why he terrorised me when we were teenagers?

And then there's the scarier question, always present, riddled with too many consequences:What even are we? What is this?

"I think you should do the photos because you're made for it, because your incredible, because you deserve more than this stupid fucking town," Nolan says seriously after a moment, "Do it for yourself. You deserve this."

The words get through to me, more than I'd like to admit. He's right. People tell me they like my photos, that I look good and in the few times I embrace it, I feel good too. I can't keep self-sabotaging myself because I have lingering self-esteem issues.

I need to break this pattern of spiralling now, throw myself into things that I know will be beneficial even if they're fucking scary. I let Nolan steady me, stoke his hand across my thigh until I'm nodding.

"You're right...thank you, I needed to hear that," I admit, smiling harder than I mean to, "I'll take the opportunity...I'll do the photos."

Nolan's face brightens instantly, "That's my girl."

We kiss again, half celebratory, half burning off the tension still brewing between us. It doesn't ever seem to go away completely, humming like an undercurrent ready to surge at any moment. But I feel good about this decision for once. I'm taking a step forward.

"I can help, with your confidence," Nolan suggests when he pulls away.

I frown, "What?"

"I can take photos of you, you know, like in that week I first came back. You do it enough times, you get so comfortable with the camera you forget it's there."

I don't know whether to be grateful he offered to help or embarrassed he knows I'm still uncomfortable after all this time.

My memory flicks to him in that room, before anything, when his eyes met mine and calmed me down without a word.

When the flashes and pointed lenses overwhelmed me completely, he steadied me.

If there's anyone who's going to help me fix this, it's him.

"So you can jerk off to them?"

The old joke is a lot more heated now.

The childish smirk on Nolan's face says it all, "No need. I've got the real thing right here."

When he leans in to kiss me again I gently push him back.

"I have an idea of my own," I say, "Use me to get back into your cool photography, I can be your artsy little subject."

He shakes his head so quickly I wonder if he even heard the full question, "Not happening."

"Come on," I groan, tilting my head.

His eyebrows furrow, jaw locked seriously. You'd think I'd asked him about his deepest darkest secrets. Which I also still know nothing about.

"What is your obsession with those?"

"They're really good, you're talented," I admit, "You don't have to give up on that just because you're doing professional photography too."

He just blinks, like he's trying to figure out some sort of game or trick.

"They're nothing, they're-"

"God, you're such a stubborn ass sometimes," I interrupt, "Please tell me you'll think about it, for me. This way you can help me and yourself at the same time."

I think he's going to resist again but something does soften in his hard exterior, that shell he has cracking every time I beg a little too much. Maybe I do have a stronger hold over him than I realise, maybe it's growing the more time we spend together.

He shrugs reluctantly, hand flexing on my thigh, "Fine. If it's what you want."

"It is," I nod, edging closer to him, "It really is."

He scoops me up in his arms, bridal style, before I can gather what's happening, my legs dangling across him suddenly.

A laugh falls out of me, giggly like a schoolgirl as I'm whisked out the room and back to that couch we left a few hours ago.

He grins, flopping us down and pulling us closer together as the dark night sky sparkles outside.

We end up talking for a while, about small things, like Nolan's still suffering car. He holds me close, arm over my waist, my head nestled in his chest. The air settles, comforting and still in a way that consumes me whole.

All those things that hang heavy like an angry raincloud subside, fall away next to this temporary peace we've managed to create. I can hear my heart thump in my chest, echo in my ears, until the only thing I feel is Nolan holding me close.

Eventually, we make it to his shower. The same stupid knobs I don't know how to work shoot us with cold water for way too long before he turns them up to warm.

The water washes away my goosebumps, then Nolan's hands wash away soap, fingers smoothing over my skin like something sacred.

His hands wash my hair, massage my shoulders, cover every inch of my body until tension melts away.

Halfway through he ends up on his knees, face buried in me, again.

I don't really know how it happens, or why I let him pin me up against the wall as he devours me whole, but the moment ripples through me.

My vision blurs at the edges, pleasure shoots through my veins and I release all over again.

By the time I slide in next to him, in his bed, I'm too tired to contemplate how weirdly comfortable this is.

It's like I'm supposed to fit under his arm, held tight as he brushes rouge hair from my face.

I'm sure if we had the energy we'd be going at it again but my eyelids are so heavy I can barely keep them open.

"You okay, pretty girl?" He murmurs, hand cupping the side of my cheek.

I nod, leaning forward to place a peck on his lips. It lingers a bit too long, like we're both savouring a kiss we never want to end. I don't want any of this to end.

"You look so beautiful like this, you know that?" He hums again, voice low and heavy.

My stomach churns, cheeks still blushing pink like this is a stupid crush and not something more. Something that's overtaken every part of me. I smile more genuinely than I care to admit and mumble a slightly embarrassed thank you.

Everything moves slower in a way I can barely explain.

I feel lighter, like I'm floating a foot off the ground.

I need him, need his warmth, his comfort.

My chest twists itself into knots every time he unashamedly looks at me for way too long.

Under his gaze I feel better than I have in a long time.

"Goodnight, Ava."

"Goodnight, Nolan."

And then I drift off into sleep, his arm banded around my waist.

?? ??