Page 102 of The Casting Couch

“I’m not like you,” I blurted.

He blinked.“What?”

I sat back a little, running a hand through my hair.“I mean, I’ve had sex, but not with someone who makes it look like performance art.Not where it actually… matters.Not with someone I…” I stopped myself.“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

His gaze softened, and he took my hand without hesitation.“You won’t.”

I tried to look away, but he tugged gently, guiding me up from the couch.“Come here.”

He led me down the short hallway to his bedroom.

I’d been here before too.I’d seen the messy dresser, the crumpled hoodie on the floor, the mismatched pillowcases.But it felt different now.Like stepping onto holy ground.

He turned to me and kissed me again, this time slower.Deeper.Like he was anchoring me to the moment.

We moved toward the bed together, and I collapsed onto it with him, tangled and half-laughing through the nerves.

When we paused, he looked me straight in the eye.

“The sex I have on camera?”he said.“That’s not real, or intimate.It’s not even me, most of the time.That’s Nico Steele, porn star.I’m… Nicholas.”He brushed my cheek with the backs of his fingers.“This is different.This is us.I want to make love to you, Bradley.Not fuck, or some silly roleplaying.Not act out some kink-of-the-day.I want to… show you how I feel.With my body.”

I couldn’t speak.I just nodded.

Nico moved closer, close enough that I could feel the heat from his skin before he even touched me.His hand came up and cupped the side of my face.He tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching mine—asking one more time without words.My breath hitched.

Then he kissed me.

Not a repeat of the couch kiss.This one had weight.Depth.It started softly but grew fuller, like a rising tide, like he’d been holding something back and couldn’t anymore.His lips parted mine gently, his tongue just barely grazing mine, and I let out a tiny, involuntary sound—half gasp, half whimper.His hands moved down, trailing from my jaw to my neck to my shoulders, fingers splaying across my chest like he wanted to memorize every inch.

I kissed him back, harder now, my hands finding his hips and pulling him closer until our bodies touched, bare stomach to stomach, through our shirts.I felt the tension in him, like a string pulled too tight, humming.

He moved on top of me, braced on his elbows, his body pressed against mine with nothing but a few layers of fabric between us.His breath was hot against my cheek.His eyes were so close I could see little flecks of green in the blue.He searched my face like he was afraid he might miss something.Like I was a map he needed to memorize.

My hands slid up under Nico’s shirt, fingertips grazing warm skin, and he let out a breath that sounded like a thank you.He sat up and I pushed it higher, higher, until he lifted his arms, pulled it over his head, and tossed it aside without looking.

I’d seen his chest before.Hell, I’d seen all of him before.But not like this.Not from this angle.Not with my heartbeat going a hundred miles an hour and his body sinking into mine like he belonged there.

I sat up just enough to let him peel off my shirt too, and then we were chest to chest, skin to skin.My breath caught.His fingers combed through my hair, sending shivers down my spine.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

“I know,” I whispered.“So are you.”

That made him smile.Just barely.

He leaned down again, this time slower, and kissed my collarbone.Then my shoulder.Then the center of my chest.He wasn’t rushing.He was feeling.His lips left a trail of warmth in their wake, and I curled my fingers in his hair, holding on like I was afraid I might float away.

Then his hips shifted, and I felt the hard press of his cock through his jeans.My breath hitched, and he froze.

“You okay?”he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” I said.“Please.”

That was all he needed.

His hands found the button on my pants, and I felt his fingers fumble slightly, trembling like mine had earlier in the cab.He got them undone and slid them down my legs, trailing kisses across my hip as he went.I gasped and let my head fall back against the pillow.

He sat up just long enough to shove his own jeans off, then settled between my legs again, both of us stripped down to nothing but underwear now, fabric damp and clinging, bodies aching to touch more, be more.His lips found mine again, hungry and urgent.I arched up against him, my body craving more contact, more of his warmth, more of his touch.He understood, his hands roaming over me, tracing the lines of my waist, my hips, sending jolts of electricity through my nerves.

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