Page 113 of Method Acting

“Yes, there is,” I added. “Having a boyfriend with the attention span of a squirrel on speed.”

Chase met my eyes and grinned. “Right. Yes. Upstairs. That’s what we were doing.” He took off up the stairs and I followed him.

“I’ll lock the front door,” Jimmy yelled.

“Thanks,” he yelled back. “Have a good night!” Then he mumbled, “I know I’m about to.”

Chase pulled me into his room, shut the door, and locked it, then turned to me.

“So, boyfriends, huh?”

I took the hem of his shirt and pulled him closer. “Unless there’s a waiver period.”

“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head as he slid his hand over my ass and pulled our hips flush. He was already half-hard. “No waiver. I’m all in.”

“Good.” I captured his lips with mine, taking my time to kiss him properly. Slow and deep, our tongues tangling until he moaned, melting into me.

His erection was hardening between us, as was mine, and I was desperate to get my jeans off. To be naked with him, to feel his skin against mine. To have that closeness, that intimacy.

I needed it.

I slid my hand along his jaw to hold his neck and he moaned, breaking the kiss. He pulled his shirt off, then ripped mine over my head, fumbling for the button on my jeans.

“Need you naked,” he said.

I stilled his hand. “Slow down,” I whispered. “I need it too—I need to be inside you, but I want to take my time. We have all night.”

“Oh god, you’re gonna kill me,” he mumbled. “Is it possible to die from not being fucked fast enough?”

I chuckled. “Not likely. Get on the bed.”

He toed out of his shoes, pulled his socks off, then whipped his shorts and briefs off and was on the bed in record time. I toed out of my Chucks, and by the time I had my jeans off, he had a condom beside him, and with one leg raised, he was smearing lube over his hole.

So fucking hot.

Okay, so maybe going slow wasn’t gonna happen.

I kneeled on the bed, crawling between his legs, taking in his solid muscle and tanned skin. His cock lay across his hip, thick and hard, but I ignored it for now. “You’re so fucking hot,” I murmured, kissing his ribs and then tonguing his nipple.

He hissed, so I sucked on it, hard. His back arched and his cock twitched as he whimpered. “Fuck.”

Laughing, I kissed him, crashing my mouth to his and delving my tongue in deep. He ran his hands down my back, trying to pull me closer. “Need you,” he said.

I smiled, trying to decide how long to play this out. But then his brows knitted together. “I will not beg you, Amos. I’ll just get mad.”

No teasing him then.

I laughed and sat back on my haunches. “Then I better not keep you waiting.” I took the lube, smearing his hole first, then giving his shaft a few slow pulls.

“Oh fuck,” he said, raising his hips, sensitive and desperate.

So I fingered his hole, slipping a fingertip inside him, then a second. He stroked his cock and groaned, widening his legs for me.

Fuck yes.

I pulled my fingers out and he whined, his head shooting up with a mad look on his face, until he saw that I was rolling on a condom. “Just as fucking well,” he said.

“You’re so demanding,” I said, pressing my cock against his slick hole. “And desperate. And hot. You’re so fucking sexy right now.” I pushed into him, as slow as I could, watching his eyes, his face, for every emotion, every feeling he couldn’t say.

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