Page 66 of Mr. Picture Perfect
I think I desperately, urgently need the distraction Cole’s face is giving me in forgetting everything that makes me afraid.
“We can slow down,” says Cole, attempting to read the weird look on my face. “You were just telling me how I’m your first guy to do anything with. I don’t want to overwhelm you or make you feel like I’m pressuring you into anything at all. Even a little bit.”
The truth is, I’ve dreamed things like this before.
For years and years, all through high school, I’ve had dreams of being some other version of myself—another Noah Reed—who lives recklessly, who doesn’t waste hours of his day calculating probabilities of danger and misfortune, who doesn’t question all the words he says …
A Noah Reed who cares less.
Happy and free.
“This is the first time I’ve … truly felt like him,” I find myself saying out loud.
Cole lifts his eyebrows, lips parted and wet. “Like who?”
“Like Other Noah Reed,” I answer proudly.
Cole’s face wrinkles up. “Like, uh … who …?” he asks again, understandably still confused.
I bring my hands to the back of his head, hooking my fingers. “I don’t want to slow down. I want you to do what you promised. I want you to …” My heart is beating frantically. The drummer who lives in my chest doesn’t know what to do. He’s freaking out. “I … I want you to show me things.”
Cole’s eyes gleam. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
He purses his lips knowingly as he appraises me. “You know, I stand by what I said earlier. You’re more confident when you’re around me.”
Then he kisses me again.
I lose my breath as I kiss him back.
His lips are both gentle and strong, which I can’t explain. I feel entirely receptive to the touch of them on me, yet my body reacts like a full-blown war has broken out inside my body, freaking out, celebrating, fight or flight response triggered, yet feeling totally at home under the command of his lips.
My hands are on his chest.
I’m not sure when that happened.
But my fingers are dancing across the shape of Cole Harding’s hard, supple body. His smooth pecs. The soft, fleshy surprises of his nipples. His abs that seem to cascade for ages down to the cute, hidden cove of his belly button, where a trail of soft hairs lead to a place where I’m stunned to say my hand is now familiar.
Cole’s lips leave mine, then dive into my neck. My head rocks back as he kisses me just under my ear, driving my senses wild. He seems to notice and spends an extra moment there, just to make me squirm giddily against his body.
His lips reach my chest, where his kisses deepen. My hands find his back, where I feel the muscles in his shoulders work as he wraps his arms around me and brings his mouth to my nipple.
The second his tongue comes out, I’m done for.
Pleasure crackles through me with unrelenting force as I feel his tongue play against my nipple. I sorely underestimated how sensitive they are—and how skilled Cole’s tongue can be.
My hips thrust forward, grinding my hard cock against him. Without clothes in the way, I realize how exhilarating it can feel to be this exposed to another man. All of my body, on display. Every part of me, accessible for him to do with as he pleases.
He moves further down, lips and tongue dragging, causing my heart to beat harder as I feel him slowly growing closer to where all of my pressure suddenly lies. I feel his wet body slide across my cock as he descends, until finally my cock brushes against the side of his smooth face.
My fingers curl into his wet hair, caressing him. I gaze down to watch as he places kisses on the side of my cock, as if greeting it with love. He looks drunken with desire as his kisses grow deeper, my cock throbbing against his soft lips.
Then his tongue comes out to play again, licking along the whole length.
My mouth hasn’t closed. I can’t believe what I’m watching. What I’m feeling. What he’s doing to me.
What he’s about to do to me.
