Page 33 of Sebastian

He rubs the back of his neck again and my body moves before I can stop it. I tug at his wrist, then pull his hand into my lap, holding it in both of mine. He talked me back from the edge of an anxiety attack earlier with nothing more than a grounding touch. I have no idea if this is comparable, but I want to try.

“Do you want the truth or…”

“I want whatever you want to tell me.”

Noel’s ridiculous limp dick explanation pops up in the back of my mind and I squash it as violently as I can. Christian obviously doesn’t have a problem getting it up. At least not anymore, not with me.

Christian stares at our hands for a moment, then flexes his fingers so they brush against my wrists, my palms. It’s a weird kind of intimacy, us caressing each other’s hands like this. It’s not a part of the body I think too much about. Hands are utilitarian, they’re functional. I don’t usually sit around rubbing my hands against someone else’s. And yet, it’s so comforting, so unguarded that it makes my heart swell with affection.

“I don’t really know how to explain it,” Christian says.

I wait for him to continue at his own pace while our hands keep moving.

“It was like something snapped one day and I realized I didn’t like what I was doing. I hated it. The work, the life, everything. I wanted out.” Christian’s gaze flicks up to mine. “It sounds stupid, doesn’t it? People would kill for that kind of life and I just got tired of it.”

The fatigue I hear in his voice makes my heart ache and I grumble silently at Noel. See? Nothing to do with erectile dysfunction. I hook our thumbs together so I can grip his hand tight. “I don’t think it’s stupid. Maybe you were burnt out.”

He nods with a quirk of his lips. “That’s one explanation.”

I tilt my head. “What’s the other?”

“That I couldn’t cut it.”

My hackles rise. I didn’t like it when Noel tried to smear Chris Preacher’s good name. Apparently, I don’t like it when Christian does it to himself, either.

“Don’t say that.” I give his hand a shake. “You were the hottest porn star around for years. How is that not being able to cut it?”

The smile he offers me is wry and self-deprecating and I get the sudden urge to kiss it off his face. He is Chris fucking Preacher. He is fan-fucking-tastic. If he needed a break from the constant hustle of the adult entertainment industry, then he deserved one. No one, not even him, is allowed to think poorly of him because of that.

“I’m serious,” I say with another shake of his hand when he doesn’t immediately agree with me. “You’re allowed to have breaks.”

“Ten-year-long breaks?”

“Even ten-year-long breaks.”

He stares at me for a moment and I stare right back, trying to imbue as much gravitas into my expression as I can. Then he pins me with a serious look.

“If I’m allowed to take ten-year-long breaks, then you’re allowed to not think of everything.”

A flush rushes up my neck to my cheeks and I drop my chin to my chest. “That’s not the same thing,” I mutter.

Christian lifts his hand to my chin and raises it back up. He’s leaning toward me now, face only inches away from my own. Our gazes collide and my lips part trying to drag in more air.

“It is the same thing,” he says softly before his eyes drop to my mouth.

My tongue sneaks out to lick my lips and I swear he’s going to kiss me. His eyes have darkened and his fingers on my jaw have tightened. I want him to kiss me. I want to fall back into his embrace and feel his searing touch again. I want to slide naked against him and rub my cock against his. Fuck, I want that so much.

But he pulls away and drops his hand. The rush of air that comes between us feels frigid against my heated skin. It takes me a moment to blink the haze of lust from my eyes.

By then, Christian’s shifted away so we’re not touching anymore. I don’t like the distance between us. I want us to get closer, not farther from each other. But… I don’t know.

There isn’t any rule that says we’re not allowed to fuck without the cameras on. We’re both adults. We can have sex with whomever we want, whenever we want. And clearly, we’re both into it.

Except… it does feel like we’re not allowed. Like we’ve established ourselves as work colleagues and to act on what we’re both clearly feeling would be crossing some invisible line. An arbitrary line that we can erase, sure, but one of us would have to make that first move and neither of us seem to want to.

At least, not yet.

Christian clears his throat. “So, um, when will the video go live?”

---