Chapter 12 Aaron
twelve
Aaron
“Have you been here before?” I ask as Nick settles next to me in our booth at Bourbon and Branch. The booths are narrow with straight backs, and Nick chooses to sit next to me, so we end up pressed together.
We’re both rather full from dinner, but the walk from Elements to the speakeasy helped make room for one of their delicious cocktails.
Plus, I’m not gonna lie, even if it hadn’t, having my thigh pressed against Nick’s is much better than having a table between us.
If dinner had given me a wonderful opportunity to watch his gorgeous and expressive face as we talked through our meal and dessert, now I get to feel him next to me, and that’s even better.
“I’ve never been here. It’s really cool.”
“Another first for me,” I say and nudge Nick's shoulder. I want him to put his arm around me and bring our bodies closer together. It’s ridiculous how much I crave that contact with him, and judging by the way he leans against me, the feeling is mutual.
There’s also the way his gaze keeps dropping to my mouth then back to my eyes.
When our drinks arrive, I make a show of taking my first sip and licking my lips, smiling as I watch the heat build in Nick’s expression.
The drinks here are strong and absolutely delicious and halfway through mine, I’m able to give voice to the thought that’s been at the forefront of my mind since we sat down.
“Will you come home with me?” I ask. Concern clouds Nick’s features, so I quickly add, “No pressure. I’m just not ready for our night to be over.”
Nick studies my face, and I try to keep my expression neutral while my insides are a tangle of anticipation and hope. After a moment that seems to stretch for hours, Nick leans closer. I’m drawn forward, reducing the distance between us to almost nothing.
“I’d love to,” he says against my mouth just before he kisses me.
We stay for another round because my place is literally right around the corner, a fact that Nick finds funny as we walk the short distance from the bar to my apartment.
“Were you planning this?” he asks as we take the elevator to the third floor.
“Would you think less of me if I had been?”
Nick crowds me against the back wall, presses a knee between my legs, and leans his body against mine. My heart races as I stare into his bright, blue eyes, barely hearing him tell me he finds confidence sexy as his lips skate along the line of my jaw.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him it wasn’t my sureness at the outcome of this evening that led me to choose locations I could walk to, it was the readiness of escape if this date went the way so many of my previous ones had.
I don’t get the chance. Nick kisses me as the doors to the elevator open on my floor, and I get the barest of tastes as his tongue flicks over my lips before the doors start to close.
We break apart, Nick lunging for the doors, me for the button to make them open again.
We’re laughing as we exit the elevator. I take hold of Nick’s hand and lead him down the hall.
Every step we take feels new to me, as if I’ve never walked this hall before, never seen my own door, used my key, stepped across my threshold, heard my front door close and the lock engage.
Nick’s presence remakes the world, and his touch when he raises his hand to my face remakes me.
I rest my forehead against his, sharing space, sharing breath, but before I can say anything, Nick speaks.
“I’m not making any assumptions here,” he says. “I’m not thinking that just because you invited me over, it means we’re going to do anything more than talk.” He smiles. “But I hope it does.”
“I’m not making any assumptions either,” I say. “I know you’re used to things moving pretty fast, but that usually doesn’t work for me.” It’s my turn to smile. “But, for the record, I wouldn’t mind if they do.”
“That’s good to know,” Nick says, and then we are kissing again.
Fuck. I love the way Nick kisses. It’s possessive without being demanding, firm and confident without being aggressive.
His hands cup my face, fingers tangling in my hair, thumbs stroking along my jaw, encouraging me to open and invite him in so we can taste each other.
His every move asks permission, and I can’t help but grant it as my senses become overwhelmed by him.
When my back touches the wall, I groan because it’s brought Nick’s body flush against mine.
He’s as hard as I am, and the feel of him rocking his hips against me sends shivers throughout my body.
I am as turned on as I can ever remember being and can’t stop myself from burrowing my hands beneath his jacket—we haven’t even taken our coats off—then pulling his shirt from his pants so I can finally touch his bare skin.
I run my hands up the broad expanse of his back, tracing the lines of muscles and bone with my fingertips, then pressing my palms against the small of his back to bring him closer.
This time, it’s Nick groaning into my mouth as his hips stutter forward, quick motions that make me long to know what it will feel like to have him in my bed. I have no doubts that’s where we will end up, but despite my obvious desire, I am perfectly content to stay right where we are.
At least I am until Nick begins kissing along my jawline and down my neck, his hands dropping to my shoulders and pushing my jacket down my arms. I let it fall to the floor as Nick pauses, hands hovering over the button at my throat.
“Is this all right?” he asks.
I nod and gasp as his mouth returns to my neck, his fingers begin undoing the buttons on my shirt with deft movements. Cool air touches my chest as Nick opens my shirt enough that he can slip his hands inside. An embarrassing whimper escapes me as his warm hands touch my skin.
“Fuck, Aaron,” he says, fingers skating over my ribs. “I want to see you.”
For a moment, anxiety flares in my chest as I think about all the guys I’ve disappointed, but then my cock throbs, and I realize, yeah, I want that too. I want Nick more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, and that desire overrides any trepidation I might have about not being enough for him.
“Couch or bed?” I ask him.
He pulls away from me, his cautious gaze scanning my expression. “Whatever you want,” he says. “Wherever you feel most comfortable.”
I smile at his answer and kiss him. “Bed,” I say with a confidence I’ve never felt before. “I want to see you, too.”
Taking Nick by the hand, I lead him through the living room and up the stairs. He follows me without comment or hesitation. We pass through the loft space where I have my office and into the bedroom beyond.
I pause in the doorway, a last flare of anxiety making my heart race. Nick must see the panic in my expression because he takes a step back and asks if I’m okay.
“We don’t have to do this,” he says.
Taking a deep breath, I nod. “I know, but I want to.” I draw him back to me, the feel of his body against mine settling something in me, helping me realize it’s not fear or worry that’s causing my reaction. It’s anticipation. I draw Nick forward again.
Passing through the doorway, I turn on the lights but dim them.
My room isn’t as posh as Nick’s. There are no pillows on my bed except the ones I sleep on, no plush comforter, no art on the walls.
It’s a utilitarian space meant for sleeping.
I doubt Nick notices, though, as he crowds against my back, lips kissing my neck, hands never leaving my chest even as we move toward the bed.
When my knees touch the mattress, I lean back against Nick.
He wastes no time taking advantage of this position, trailing his lips and tongue along the rigid line of tendons on the side of my neck while his hands caress their way upward until he slips my shirt over my shoulders and down my arms. I turn so I can do the same to him, admiring the smooth skin as I trace my way up from his fingers to his shoulders then back down over his lightly furred chest. I rest my hands lightly on his hips, thumbs brushing over the indents that mark the edges of firm muscles.
“You’re gorgeous,” I say, my face heating as I realize I’ve said it out loud.
Nick smiles. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Then we are kissing again.
I am completely besotted by Nick, my entire focus on the sensations he causes in my body, the pleasure his touch gives me, and my desire to do the same for him. We kiss while exploring the expanse of skin in front of us.
Surprisingly, I am the one who asks if I can undo the button on Nick’s pants, and he is the one who hesitates. I understand his trepidation immediately.
“For the record,” I say, my voice husky and low. “I don’t care. It doesn’t have to lead to anything else. I just want to see and touch all of you.”
Nick bites his lip, unsure, debating. Feeling bold, I press the palm of my hand against the bulge in his pants, smiling as Nick’s eyelids flutter and his lips part. A sigh escapes his mouth.
“Whatever we do tonight, it will be perfect,” I say. “I’m not judging you or putting pressure on you.” I squeeze the hard ridge under my hand. It’s a light touch, but it makes Nick gasp, and I grin, feeling playful, wicked. I lean in, my mouth against Nick’s ear, and growl, “At least not much.”
When I pull back, Nick’s eyes are full of heat and desire. He moves into my space, then turns me, and we tumble onto my bed, our legs tangling together, mouths joined. I rut against Nick’s thigh, my hands firm on his hips to hold him in place. I moan against his mouth at the sweet friction.
“Please?” I whisper, not really sure what I’m asking for but trusting I will love whatever Nick chooses to do in response.
“What do you want, Aaron?”