Page 23 of All in December
“You said your week was busy?” I ask, wanting to find a time to see him.
“Yeah,” he says on an exhale. “Work’s been a mess, and Benji keeps asking when we’re gonna see you two again.”
My heart jumps. “So does Sam. He keeps asking if we can go skiing with you both again this weekend.”
“They’re kind of a perfect match,” Nash says, and I can hear the affection in his voice.
He’s not wrong, and I can only hope there’s a hidden meaning in that statement about us being a perfect match, too.
“I keep wishing we somehow lived next to each other, instead of twenty minutes apart,” I murmur, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Like… right next door, ideally.”
“I’d probably be at your house right now,” he says without hesitation. “You’d open the door, let me in, and I’d finally kiss you.”
My fingers tighten around the phone that’s resting on the pillow beside me. I imagine opening the door and him wasting no time as he steps up to me, grabs my face, and slams his mouth to mine. A quiet gasp escapes me before I can stop it.
“I want that,” I whisper, my voice barely there. “So much.”
“I think about it constantly,” he admits. “Think aboutyouconstantly.”
Heat pools in my stomach, my body already reacting to the sound of his voice and the images he’s painting with it.
“You did say you’re good at keeping your promises,” I tease, my voice rough with want.
“Oh, I am,” he assures me, and I can hear the smile in his voice—smug, seductive, and sincere all at once. “And that one’s at the top of my list.”
“Fuck,” I gasp. My dick is thickening in my boxer briefs, and I want to stroke myself to the sound of his voice, to the fantasy he’s building. It’s unbelievable how much he’s affecting me even through the phone. I swallow and decide to take a chance. “What would you do… once you were inside?”
His exhale is slow and sounds a lot like ammmsound. “You sure you want me to tell you that?”
“Yes,” I beg. “Tell me.”
There’s a moment of silence, and the anticipation only makes me harder. I squeeze myself through my briefs, thumb brushing over my tip before the urge to free myself becomes too much. I lift my hips and get naked, hand wrapping around my cock just as I hear his voice.
“I’d close the door behind me.” He continues the fantasy. “And I’d press you up against it so you could feel what you do to me. I’d grip your hips, kiss you slow at first, then deeper like I’ve been thinking about since that night in the hotel.”
A gasp leaves my lips. I need lube. He’s only talked about kissing me, but the image of it is filthy. I bite my bottom lip, reaching into my bedside drawer for lube, struggling to stay quiet even though no one’s around to hear.
“Then what?” I ask, desperate now, holding my dick in my grip while I find the bottle.
He hums low in his throat. “Then I’d take my time with you. Grind against you, kiss you until you’re so worked up you’re begging me to take you to bed.” He pauses, and it’sfilled with tension through the phone. “Would you let me undress you, Caleb?”
I nod even though he can’t see it. “Yes.”
“I’d bring you to your bedroom,” he continues. “Let my hands get acquainted with your sexy body. Touch every inch of you until you’re shaking for me, desperate for more.”
A low sound escapes my throat despite my best efforts to swallow it down.
“That’s it, I want to hear you,” Nash encourages.
I squirt some lube into my hand and start stroking my cock. My entire body is keyed up with the kind of tension that won’t go away on its own. I want him—the weight of him, the heat, the pressure of his body against mine. Need to feel it.
“I’d pull your shirt off first,” he murmurs, “then push you back onto the bed and climb over you, grind down on your clothed erection until you’re writhing and begging for me to get us both naked. I want to see how you look when you fall apart under me.”
“Fuck,” I breathe.
“That’s what I want, Cay,” he confirms. “Because you’re in my head. Every second of every day, I think about you. I keep wondering how it’s possible that I’ve only known you a few days and I already want you this much.”
The confession floors me—more than anything else he’s said—even though my mind is spinning on his nickname for me.
